Classic Revenge (16 page)

"I'm not in the mood for apple pie," Millie said
thoughtfully as she pushed the sun visor up. "That meatloaf special on that poster in the window sounds good,
though."

"Are we here to investigate the menu or Mark Wilson?" Trish asked irritably. "Okay, look, we need to remember the plan. We walk in, very casually, and find a
table. Then we happen to notice Mark. If he's sitting
alone, we ask him to join us and then bring up the subject of how his job is going since Sam sold his business
and then Susan's death. Watch carefully for any strange
expressions or a sudden change in his tone. Of course,
if he's sitting with somebody, then we wait him out and
confront him in the parking lot right before he leaves.
Remember, we're going to act casual and unobtrusive.
Has everybody got it?"

"Got it," Millie and Edna responded in unison. Millie
pushed open the car door and scrambled out. "Let's
go.

So much for subtlety, Trish thought with exasperation a few seconds later. Millie barreled through the
door and headed straight for the table where Mark sat. A waitress had just placed a glass of iced tea in front of
him. "Hello, Mark! What a surprise to see you here. Do
you mind if we join you?"

He didn't have time to answer. In the process of
adding sugar to his iced tea, he watched Millie plop
down across from him.

Edna shot him a quick, apologetic smile. "How nice
to see you again, Mark."

Mark laid his spoon on the table, his eyes round with
surprise. "Uh ... yes, same here"

Trish tried to smooth over the awkward moment. He
obviously didn't remember them. "Gosh, I guess the last
time we saw you was at Susan Wiley's funeral. I know
Sam appreciated your coming." She saw recognition
register in Mark's mind and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you still keep in touch with him?" Millie asked
sharply as she peered over the top of her menu. Thankfully the waitress appeared just then to take their order,
so the quick kick Trish gave Millie under the table went
unnoticed. As soon as they got back home Trish was going to make Millie write the word subtle one hundred
times !

As soon as the waitress left, Edna started up the conversation with a friendly smile at Mark. "Are you still
in the same line of work?"

Mark leaned back in his chair. The shell-shocked expression he'd been wearing on his face ever since they
had bulldozed their way to his table seemed to be easing somewhat. "Yes, I am. As a matter of fact, I work for
Bennie Johnson, the man who bought out Sam. Bennie's
a nice guy. I'm basically doing the same thing I did for
Sam."

"Oh? And what exactly is that?" Edna asked sincerely.

Mark began discussing his job function and the
similarities and differences in the work he now did for
Bennie all during the meal. Trish sipped her iced tea
and breathed a sigh of relief. Edna had drawn Mark into
easy and friendly conversation so that now when the
pertinent questions came he probably wouldn't become
suspicious-unless, of course, Millie opened her mouth
again. But they were running out of time. Mark probably only had an hour for lunch, and the clock was running fast.

"Sam had a lot of loyal employees. I'll bet some
weren't so thrilled when he decided to retire and sell
his business." Trish had to fight to keep her mouth from
dropping open. It was a perfect segue into the answers
they were looking for ... and from Millie, no less!

Mark gave a slight chuckle. "You can say that again.
Most of us were happy for him, but there were a couple
who were downright mad."

Trish's ears perked up. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Mary Chavez, Sam's bookkeeper, complained for days. When Sam found out that Bennie had
his own bookkeeper, he tried to help Mary find another
job. He even set up some interviews for her. But she
still kept blaming Sam for ruining her life, as she put it,
and didn't even try to get another job. Sam gave her a
month's severance pay even though she stormed out of
the office the day before he officially retired."

Edna shook her head. "Some people you just can't
help no matter how much you may want to"

Mark agreed. "She wasn't even that good a bookkeeper. She called in sick quite a lot and was always behind on deadlines, but Sam kept working with her." Trish caught Millie's eye across the table. Mary Chavez's
name was on the list Sam had given them.

"That's such a shame," Edna murmured. "You said
there were a couple of people upset. Did anybody else
feel the same way as Mary?" Edna asked the question
nonchalantly as she took another bite of her pie. Millie
also stayed silent as they watched Edna artfully draw information from Mark. He appeared genuinely happy
with his position under Bennie's ownership, and if he
held any hard feelings against Sam, he was hiding it extremely well.

He shrugged as he leaned back in his chair and
dropped his napkin on his plate. "Most of us kept our
jobs, those who wanted to, anyway. Old Tom Jones stayed
on for a while, but he was really upset that Sam didn't sell
the business to him-as if he had the money! Anyway,
Bennie didn't much like him, so when Tom demanded
more money, Bennie refused, and Tom up and quit."

Tom Jones-Trish was quite sure that name had also
appeared on Sam's list. "What is he doing now?"

Mark shrugged. "I'm not sure. I heard he tried making
it as a subcontractor for a while, but he was overcharging
and underperforming. Word gets around in the construction business. If you take advantage of people, you're
more or less black-balled. He's probably drawing unemployment and blaming the world for his problems."

Trish wanted to know more about Mary's and Tom's
general attitudes and if there was anybody else who
might be holding a grudge against Sam Wiley, but Mark
signaled to the waitress for his check. "I have to go
check on a crew. I really enjoyed seeing you ladies
again. Tell Sam I said hello when you see him." Mark smiled, unfolded his tall frame from the chair, and nodded a redundant good-bye. Trish watched him leave, a
thoughtful expression on her face.

"So, what did you think?" Millie asked around a
mouthful of pie. "I don't think he's our man."

"Neither do I," Edna sighed. "Mark's a nice man and
appears to have been a loyal employee. He doesn't
seem to think too much of Mary Chavez or Tom Jones,
though."

"I agree," Trish said. "I wish we could have talked to
him longer. I'd like to know more details about any
confrontations he might have witnessed between them
and Sam."

"I would have asked him," Millie said sweetly, "but I
was afraid I'd get kicked again."

Trish rolled her eyes. "You'd better start thinking before you just blurt out the first thing on your mind, or
next time I'm wearing steel-toed boots"

"That's an attractive image," Millie muttered as she
dropped her napkin onto her plate.

Joe hadn't returned from his bowling game when
they got back to Trish's house. Edna reached him on his
cell phone, and, as promised, filled him in on what they
had found out. He agreed to go by to see Sam and find
out if there had been any strange encounters with any
of his former employees, especially Mary or Tom.

Trish was preparing coffee when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Millie said, placing her pen on the paper
where she had just crossed Mark Wilson's name off the
list and rising to answer the door.

"If it's a salesman, I'm not here!" Trish shouted after her.

But it wasn't a salesman. Henry Espinoza followed
Millie into the kitchen. "Good afternoon," he said with
a nod to Trish and Edna.

"Hello, Chief," Edna said with a welcome smile. "Sit
down. We were just about to have some coffee. Would
you like some?"

"Thank you, I'd love some. I was hoping you'd be
over here, Millie," he said, lowering himself into one of
the chairs at the table.

"Would you like cream and sugar?" Trish asked with
a quick glance in his direction. Henry looked quite attractive in the dark green polo shirt and jeans, not quite
so stern and ... official.

"Just black. I came by to tell Millie that, unfortunately, the fingerprints didn't reveal anything."

"It doesn't surprise me," Millie said with a shrug. "I
really didn't think we'd find out who did it that easily."

"It was a long shot," Henry agreed. "We'll schedule a
patrol car to drive by at different times during the night
shift for the next few days, to see if we spot anybody acting suspicious. That's about all we can do at this point.
You never know-we may get lucky. According to Larry,
the only thing you noticed missing was your address
book, right?"

Millie nodded. "That's right. It's the one that had the
combination to Sam's safe in it."

"Millie..."

"Don't worry, Henry. It would probably give me a
heart attack if you took our theory seriously. You can
thank us later."

Trish hurriedly changed the subject before Millie
and Henry went another round. "Larry Thompson is
such a nice young man. Does he have a family?"

"No, he's single. His parents still live in Houston
where he was raised. He came to work for us about a
year ago. He's a great guy and good at his job"

"We're counting on it," Millie muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Any new clues on who killed Susan
Wiley?"

Henry looked at her wryly. "I was about to ask you
the same thing."

Millie gave a good impression of being taken aback.
"Why would you ask that?"

Henry raised his eyebrows. Please, dear Lord, Trish
prayed silently, don't let Millie mention Mark and what
he had told them today. Henry would just give them another lecture about all the evidence pointing to Sam.

"Our opinion hasn't changed," Edna said. "The truth
will come out, hopefully sooner rather than later, but,
regardless, we know Sam is not guilty."

Henry looked at them intently for a moment. Millie,
blessedly, kept her mouth closed under the scrutiny,
even though she looked guilty as sin. Finally, Henry
sighed and drained his coffee. "Well, I just wanted to let
you know about the fingerprints and to make sure you
got your door repaired. You still need to be careful and
stay aware of your surroundings. The thief probably
won't be back, but you don't want to take anything for
granted"

Trish stood also and walked toward the door. "Thank
you, Henry. We'll all keep an eye out and let you know
if we see anything out of the ordinary." She breathed a
sigh of relief when he said good-bye and left. She knew
Millie could only contain herself for so long.

When she went back into the kitchen, Edna and
Millie were deep in discussion. "That's a good idea,"
Edna was saying.

"What is?" Trish asked as she sank down into the chair.

"We're going to find out where Mary Chavez and
Tom Jones live while it's still daylight."

Trish raised one eyebrow. "Why do we want to know
where they live?"

"Because," Millie said impatiently, "first, we find out
where they live. Then we find out where they work, and
then we find out if they hang out anywhere. If, by chance,
either one of them is guilty, we sure aren't going to find
any clues around here. We need to go to their turf."

Trish paused. Their turf? "Why don't we just ask
Sam? He may know where they live."

"And let everybody know what we're up to? All
we'll get is another lecture to just let the authorities
handle it."

"But, Edna," Trish pointed out, "you promised to tell
Joe everything."

"I know. And I'm going to. I'm going home right
now and leave Joe a note"

Trish's lips twisted. "Why don't you just call him?"

"I don't want to interrupt him."

"Besides," Millie added, "he's probably with Sam
right-now.'-'-

Trish's lips twisted again. "Flimsy."

"Yeah, but we'll probably get away with it," Millie
said with a saucy grin. "You get on your computer and
do one of those search things to get their addresses.
Edna, you run home and leave that note, and I need to
go grab something. We'll meet back here."

Fifteen minutes later, armed with directions and Millie's binoculars-the all-important "something" Millie
had grabbed from her house, for what purpose Trish and
Edna couldn't fathom-the three women climbed into
Trish's car and headed toward Mary Chavez' house. According to the information Trish had gathered, she was
married and lived in the southern part of San Antonio in
an older residential neighborhood. It shouldn't take
more than twenty minutes to get there.

It took thirty-five. After two wrong turns navigating
through unexpected road construction, they finally found
the small red brick house. "Someone's home," Millie
whispered as she slumped low in her seat. "See the car in
the driveway?"

"Millie, sit up! And stop that whispering. You're making me nervous. Who do you think is going to overhear us?"

Millie ignored her. "Aren't you going to stop?"

"Oh, that wouldn't look suspicious at all, would it?
No, I'm going to circle the block. Edna, when we pass
the house again, try to memorize any of the car details
so we'll know it if we spot it again. Then we'll cruise
around the neighborhood a bit and see if we can find out
where Mary does her grocery shopping and stuff like
that. We've got to find a way to bump into her somehow
so that we can strike up a conversation."

Edna nodded eagerly as she sat up straighter in the
back seat and pulled a small pad and pen from her
purse. "Okay, that's a good idea."

"What makes you think Mary is going grocery shopping today?" Millie asked.

Trish glanced over at her friend sardonically. "I
don't. It could take several trips over here before we get a chance to talk to her. We'll have to come by at different times to get an idea of what her schedule is."

Millie nodded slowly. "That's a good plan," she said
approvingly. "What are we going to say to her when the
opportunity presents itself?"