Murder by Christmas (Edna Davies mysteries) (13 page)

“Watcha doin’ here?” he asked, leaning on the broom handle and not taking his eyes off Edna’s companion for a second. He was grinning broadly and when Edna turned to look at Gran, the old woman had the same expression on her face.

Ahhh, true love
, Edna thought, smiling to herself as she looked from man to woman.

The frozen tableau was shattered by a middle-aged woman who burst through the swinging doors from the kitchen. “Sorry, we’re closing for the day,” she said before recognition dawned as she spotted Gran. “Oh, it’s you, Gran. I thought I sent you home. What are you doing out in this weather?”

“Hi, Priscilla. I don’t think you had a chance this morning to meet my friend and neighbor, Edna Davies.” Turning to Edna, Gran said, “This is Priscilla Powell.” At once, she extended a palm to Codfish, “And do you know Codfish McKale?”

The two restaurant employees nodded to Edna who acknowledged their greetings with a small wave of her hand and a “Nice to meet you.”

Gran turned to Codfish. “Edna wants to talk to Vinnie. Is he still around?”

“Nope.” Codfish shook his head. “Left an hour ago.”

“Do you know where we can find him?” Edna tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Nothing was going right. Whatever she tried seemed to bring her no closer to finding Mary, and now her mind kept turning back to Kevin Lockhorn’s odd behavior. She was finding it hard to stay focused. Concentrating on why she’d come back to the diner, she said to Codfish, “Do you have a number where I can reach your nephew?”

“Yup, sure do. It’s at home by my phone,” the old man said. “That’s the only place I call him from. Haven’t the need, otherwise. Don’t carry one of those tiny, tinny, fancy phones. Can’t hear a blame thing on ‘em.”

“I have his number,” Priscilla spoke up, “but it’s in my purse out in the trunk of my car.” When she saw the quizzical look on Edna’s face, she explained. “I’ve already loaded everything in my car. I only came back in to tell Codfish to quit working and lock up. With this storm and all, we won’t be open for supper tonight.”

 When Priscilla didn’t volunteer to go out and get her purse, Edna said, “If I give you my phone number, will you call me with his number as soon as you can?” She dug a pen out of her bag and, going to the counter, quickly wrote down both her cell and home phone numbers on a paper napkin. Handing it to Priscilla, she said, “It’s important that I reach him.”

The snow had stopped falling by the time Edna and Gran were back in the Kia and heading for Laurel Taylor’s house, but, looking at the sky, Edna could tell the storm was by no means over.

“Do you think Priscilla will call me?” Edna asked Gran.

“I’m sure she will, but if you don’t hear from her, let me know and I’ll phone her. Priscilla’s mother and I are old childhood friends, you know.”

Gran talked on, but Edna was so intent on driving that she was conscious only that the older woman was talking about someone named Faye and would occasionally mention Codfish. Fortunately, there weren’t many cars on the road, but the few who were had Edna’s full attention. Finally arriving at the cat shelter, she noticed Charlie Rogers’ car in the driveway and pulled in behind his vehicle.

“What brings you out here?” Charlie looked surprised and not too pleased to see the women standing on the porch when he opened the door to their knock.

“Nice to see you, too, Charlie,” Edna said, smiling in an attempt to disarm him. “I was hoping to get a list of Laurel’s volunteers. I thought I’d contact them to see if anyone has heard from Mary,” she added when he didn’t return the smile and didn’t move aside to let them enter the house.

“I’d like to hear from her myself,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Look, Edna, you’ve been helpful in the past, but I’m afraid you’re getting in the way this time. I’m the one who needs to find Mary, not you. She’s probably the last person to have seen the victim alive and, as such, she’s a valuable witness for my investigation.”

Edna felt her eyes widen. “Except for the murderer, you mean. The murderer would have been the last to see the victim alive. You’re not thinking that Mary had anything to do with Laurel’s death, are you?”

“No,” Charlie said with a snort, brushing aside the idea. “But she was seen driving off at a pretty fast clip. Now she’s nowhere to be found and she doesn’t answer her phones.” With those words, he pulled his own mobile from the holster on his belt and punched in some numbers.

As she watched him put the phone to his ear, Edna thought she heard a distant, muffled ringing. She turned and cocked her head, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. Slowly, she walked down the stairs and started wading through calf-high snow when the sound stopped. She turned to see Charlie putting the phone back into its holder.

“Charlie, did you just try to call Mary?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Dial her number again, will you?”

With a frown and a shrug and watching Edna intently, he complied.

“What is it?” Gran asked from the porch steps.

Not answering, Edna cocked her head and turned again toward Charlie’s car in the driveway as the ringing tone sounded again. “Don’t hang up unless voice mail kicks in,” she called over her shoulder as she moved as quickly as the snow would allow. When the ringing stopped, she looked back at Charlie to see that he was redialing. Almost at once, the ringing started up once more. As she bent and brushed away the snow beside the driveway, the ringing grew louder. With a final swipe of her hand, she hit something and saw the stainless steel phone shoot up with the handful of snow she’d raised.

It was ringing and it was Mary’s.

Chapter 14

“That explains why she hasn’t answered her mobile.” Charlie trudged through the snow to reach Edna’s side. “I’ll take that,” he said, reaching for the ice-encrusted phone.

Handing it over, she said, “It may explain her not answering this particular phone, but it doesn’t explain why she hasn’t been home or called us from somewhere else.”

“Do you think she might have been kidnapped?” Gran asked, her eyes wide over the recent discovery.

Astonished by the idea, Edna nearly laughed at its absurdity. But was the notion so far-fetched? What would cause Mary to leave home and not contact her friends? Before Edna could voice her own questions, Charlie spoke.

“Hold on. Let’s not jump to conclusions.” He put a gentling hand on Gran’s shoulder and looked from her to Edna. “Mary was seen driving away from here yesterday afternoon. Alone. Nobody else was in the car. Finding her phone here in the snow, we might assume that, at one point, she stepped out of her car. On the other hand, we don’t know if she went into the house or stood here talking to someone or threw her phone out the window …” He paused, as if considering why Mary might have thrown the phone or what else she might have been doing for her mobile to be found lying next to the driveway. Instead of making further assumptions, he smiled at Edna. “You know Mary and how she loves to watch people, how she tries to hide in plain sight. It’s one reason she wears those camo clothes. She’s probably off on one of her campaigns. I’ll bet she doesn’t even know she’s lost her phone, but as soon as she discovers it’s missing, she’ll be calling you to see if she left it at your house.”

Knowing he was trying to allay her fears, Edna couldn’t help but smile back at him as she thought of some of the quirky things Mary had done, but she sobered quickly. “I can’t think she’d be playing games for this long, particularly with her big holiday party only two days away, Charlie. What if she’s had an accident? Have you contacted the hospitals?”

He sighed and shook his head, rubbing a hand across his chin in frustration. “I’ve been concentrating on the murder site, not on Mary, but I want to find her even more than you. As I said before, she’s probably the last person to see the victim alive. So far, all I’ve been doing is dialing her phone periodically. Until now, I didn’t know the darn cell was just lying here under the snow.”

“Are you officially off vacation and back on duty?” Edna asked.

“Yes, but assigned only to this case. We’re short-handed and with the storm, road accidents, and emergency calls, not to mention the flu that’s going around, I’m having to beg for what little assistance I can get. Despite the M.E.’s report, the chief still isn’t totally convinced Laurel’s death wasn’t just an unfortunate accident--woman tripping or fainting and falling down stairs. He says the fall could have caused the bruises on her arms and face. Personally, I think he’s trying to justify not assigning anyone else to help me, but it wouldn’t be a wise career move to challenge him.” Charlie’s lips turned up at the corners as if to let the women know he was making light of the situation, but his eyes remained sad and serious.

Edna felt as exasperated as Charlie sounded. “What should we do about Mary, then? How do we find her?”

He glanced from Edna to Gran and back. “I know you’re worried about her. I am too. But look, everyone in the department knows her, at least by sight, and most would recognize her Jeep. We’re all keeping an eye out, and I’ve asked the dispatcher to let me know if any accidents come in involving a ragtop. So far, I’ve heard nothing, so she’s probably fine.” This time his smile did reach his eyes when he said, “You know Mary. She can take care of herself.” He extended an arm, palm up, toward their car. “Why don’t you go home and get out of this cold. I promise to call as soon as I hear anything.”

Ignoring his suggestion for the moment, Edna stood her ground and repeated her earlier question. “What about the hospitals? Have you called to see if she’s been admitted to the South County? They might not give me information about a patient, but they’d confide in a police officer, wouldn’t they?”

At this, Gran spoke up. “If Mary’s supervisor is also a volunteer, she might not have to abide by confidentiality rules. Talking to her is on our list. Maybe we can swing by there on our way home from the animal clinic.” She seemed more amenable to Charlie’s suggestions, at least about getting out of the cold.

Edna frowned as she tried to recall the plan which she’d left on the dashboard of the Kia. Experiencing a momentary lapse of memory, she thought the last two nights of inadequate sleep must be catching up with her. “Animal clinic?”

Gran scowled at her, as if Edna were trying to renege. “We’re going by the clinic to pick up Callie.”

Now Charlie looked perplexed. “Callie?”

“I adopted one of Laurel’s kittens,” Gran explained, still staring at Edna as if reminding her of a promise. “A Christmas present for my granddaughter. Roselyn took the cats to the clinic this morning. Said I’d have to go there to finalize the adoption and pick up my little calico.”

Her memory jogged, Edna remembered one of the other reasons for coming to CATS and turned to Charlie. “Do you have a list of Laurel’s volunteers? Maybe in an address book or a file on her computer? I’d like to call around to see if one of them might have seen or spoken to Mary.”

He shook his head. “Laurel’s desk was ransacked. Someone broke in through the back door last night, forced the lock. Whoever it was went through the place like a tornado. I haven’t found a single personal paper of any sort. Plenty of junk mail, unpaid bills, catalogs, but nothing like a letter or contact information for friends or relatives. Definitely no address book.”

“And her computer?” Edna asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Looks like she had a laptop, but that’s missing along with the rest. Whoever took it left only the printer. If she had any thumb drives, those are gone, too. I’m about to canvass the neighborhood to ask if anyone saw or heard anything last night. I also want to find out if anyone recognized the man who was seen in the backyard yesterday afternoon. It’s possible he might have been checking out the place and returned last night.”

At this suggestion, Edna immediately thought of Vinnie Valmont. Had he been the burglar, trying to recover some money for himself? Perhaps he thought he could get Bethany’s back pay, too. Maybe he thought he could sell the computer, if he couldn’t find cash. Did he take Bethany to the train so she wouldn’t be considered a suspect or an accomplice?

Edna put a hand to her now-pounding head. What was she thinking? Of course, it wasn’t Vinnie. With nothing more than her wild imagination to go on, she didn’t voice her thoughts. She instinctively liked the young man, but Mary had mentioned he’d been a mischievous youth, in trouble with the police before. He might possibly be a burglar, but a murderer? She mentally shook her head and sought reassurance. “Do you think the person who broke in might be the same one who killed her?”

Before he had a chance to answer, Gran interrupted. “Could we go soon?” Her voice shook with cold, and Edna realized the chill had crept into her own bones, as well.

She instantly felt guilty for keeping the elderly woman outside for so long. The snow had stopped for the time being, but the temperature was dropping fast as the afternoon wore on.

Charlie walked them to the car, holding onto Gran’s arm as he helped her through the drifts and around to the passenger’s side of the Kia. “Remember, straight home to a pot of tea and a warm fire,” he admonished them, but with a half-smile. “Leave the detecting to me.” He assisted Gran into the seat while Edna slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Shutting the door, he waved them off. In the rear view mirror, Edna saw him watch as the Kia moved away.

“We’re not really going straight home, are we?” Gran’s voice still trembled, and she pulled her coat more tightly about herself.

“We’ll stop by Perry’s clinic first and pick up your kitten.” Edna turned to Gran with a conspiratorial look. “And, if the snow holds off, we might as well head over to the hospital. It’s not very far out of our way.”

As she turned onto the main road that would take them back to town, she was relieved to see it had been freshly plowed and sanded. At the moment, there were few cars, so she thought she and Gran could both use a distraction from the chilly air while the car warmed up.

“I know you’re helping out at Krispin’s Kitchen because you and Priscilla’s mother have been friends since childhood, but how did Codfish McKale come to work there?”

“He was a classmate of ours. Isn’t it fun how small the world is sometimes?”

Edna smiled to herself as Gran sat up straighter. The ploy had worked. As she talked, she seemed to forget the cold.

“Walter … that was his name before he earned his fisherman’s stripes.” She chuckled at what seemed to be a long-ago memory before continuing. “Walter and I were friends back in our school days. We probably would have started dating, but he dropped out as soon as he turned sixteen. All he ever wanted to do was go to sea.” She sighed. “I thought we’d keep in touch, but he was out on the boats from dawn to dusk, sometimes for days on end. When he did get to shore, his mother told me that he’d be so tired, he could hardly keep his eyes open to finish his supper before stumbling off to bed. He came by the house to see me a couple of times, but I was out. He never called or warned me he was coming, you see. I remember he was very shy.” She smoothed the collar of her woolen coat away from her neck. The car’s heater was doing its job. “I was out with my girlfriends when there wasn’t school the next day. Never was one for sitting around the house with my parents. What teenager would?” Sighing, she said, “Eventually, he stopped coming around and we lost track of each other. Since we’ve reconnected, I’ve been wondering if I was looking for him in my husbands, all these years.”

Remembering that Gran had been twice divorced and once widowed, Edna thought she’d steer the conversation in a slightly different direction. “How did he get nicknamed Codfish?” she asked.

“Oh, that.” Gran trilled her delightful, tinkling laugh. “He was a natural fisherman, always knew where to find the best and biggest schools, particularly the cod. Other fishermen christened him with the nickname the day he signed the papers on his first fishing vessel. Proudest day of his life, he told me.”

At that thought, she fell silent. She was quiet for so long, Edna finally glanced over to see Gran staring at the windshield. Edna was sure the older woman had gotten lost in thoughts of long-ago times. Eventually, she heaved a sigh and turned to Edna.

“Arthritis caused Walter to give up his boat. He told me he didn’t know what to do with himself, once he no longer spent his days trawling the North Atlantic. Faye--that’s Priscilla’s mother, you know--she told me he spent too much of his time in bars, talking to anyone who’d listen to his tales. Said he’d start singing the old shanties when he had enough whiskey in him.”

“So Faye kept in touch with him over the years,” Edna guessed.

“No. Their meeting again was pure coincidence. He started eating at the diner. It’s the best meal you can get in town for the price. Mostly, you get the daily special or a hamburger plate. Not a lot of variety, but wholesome and filling.”

“So Faye recognized him?” Edna asked, not wanting Gran to get sidetracked by the menu.

“Not quite like that. Priscilla got to know him first. She’s a good listener and so kind-hearted. When Walter, or Codfish--I’m trying to get used to that nickname--when he got to know Priscilla, he’d sit for hours telling her his tales of the sea. She’d be sweeping or cleaning up the kitchen while he talked. Eventually, she began handing him a broom or a dish rag as he followed her around.”

Edna chuckled at the image. “That sounds like what I used to do when my children wanted to talk. I’d have them help me with whatever cleaning or cooking chore I had to get done at the time.”

Gran laughed and then grew serious. “Faye told me Codfish had a pretty bad accident last year and nearly lost his life. Guess it gave him new motivation to live ‘cause he’s been hanging out at the diner instead of in the bar. He was helping out so much, Priscilla talked to her mother about paying him a small wage. That’s when Faye finally met him and realized who he was.”

Mention of Codfish’s accident made Edna think of Aleda Sharpe, the woman who had sideswiped a drunken Codfish and not stopped. She’d been on her cell phone at the time and, apparently, hadn’t known she’d hit the man. After her arrest, Aleda and her husband and their teenage daughter hurriedly left town, amid scandal and gossip. They put their house up for sale and, ironically enough, Gran was the person who bought the property.

“He really hasn’t changed much over the years.” Gran continued speaking, almost as if to herself. “I think he needs someone to look after him,” she said as Edna turned into the parking lot of Perry’s Animal Clinic.”