Murder by Proxy (16 page)

She wouldn't have minded Starling knowing about Ernie or about her search for Anita, but she didn't want Karissa knowing she was meeting with the detective. Word would certainly get back to Grant and she didn't feel like arguing with him again. She quickly changed the subject, asking how things were at home. After ten minutes or so of catching up on the news, Edna felt her stomach growl. Into a momentary silence, she said, “Did I understand you to say that Grant used to come home for lunch?”

Or since Anita’s disappearance
, Edna calculated. The thought popped unbidden into her head, at the same time she heard Starling say, “I should go. You two can talk about Grant's lunch habits without me.”

“Oh, no,” she insisted. “You and Karissa finish your visit. I'm getting off the phone now. I've neglected my duties, and Karissa must be weak with hunger. Love you, Sweetheart. Give my love to your father.”

She hung up and set about making sandwiches and heating soup. Deciding to make extra to take to Grant, she filled a wide-mouth thermos with vegetable soup and wrapped up two ham sandwiches. She was setting their own soup bowls on the table when Karissa waddled in and eased herself onto a dining room chair.

The women ate in silence for the first few swallows. Soon Karissa put down her spoon and said, “Starling said I should ask you about raspberry tea for childbirth.”

Her mind on the morning's activities, Edna had to think for a minute before remembering a conversation with Starling over something Edna had read. Hazel Rabichek, former owner of the Davies' house in Rhode Island and an amateur herbalist, had left her recipes and gardening journals for Edna. Since inheriting these fascinating books, she had begun learning more about natural aids for health and wellness.

She hesitated before answering her daughter-in-law. “I read an article about it recently. It seems that back in the Colonial days, women drank a tea made from raspberry leaves during the last weeks of pregnancy to speed delivery. They learned of it from the Native Americans. Then, during the Second World War, obstetricians found that an ingredient in the leaves, fragarine, actually helps to relax the uterine muscles.”

“Raspberries,” Karissa said and brightened. “Do you think I could try it?” Her eyes grew wide. “My mother used to tell me how long and painful her labors were with me and my brothers. She said I should expect the same thing, if I ever had children.”

“I think you should discuss it with your doctor. Every woman is different, you know. You shouldn't worry about what your mother went through.” She reached out and patted Karissa's arm. “I sympathize with you, Sweetie, but I'm very new at learning about herbs. Mrs. Rabichek put a lot of warnings in her journals. I remember one note on the raspberry that leaves not properly dried contain hydrocyanic acid, which is a poison.” Seeing the horrified look on her daughter-in-law's face, she searched for something more encouraging. “There's something else in her journals about rubbing aloe on your skin to help reduce stretch marks. I'll buy a plant for you next time I'm out. They're easy to grow and, since they're also a succulent, will fit in nicely with the cactus gardens around the house. I keep one in my kitchen for treating burns.”

Talk turned to house plants as the two women finished eating. After seeing Karissa safely back to bed, Edna drove to Grant's office to deliver the lunch she'd made for him, glad of an excuse to return to Office Plus. Maybe she would run into Marcie again. She might have remembered something about Anita since Edna had last seen the supervisor.

Entering the lobby, she saw Brea Tweed was at the reception desk again. “Hello. What a nice surprise,” she said, approaching the counter.

“Hey, Brea, where's the meeting?” A young man, stocky with thinning brown hair, approached and patted the counter a few times to draw Brea's attention.

The visitor brightened perceptibly and seemed to forget his rush. “Hi. I'm Wayne Freedman. I do contract work for Grant sometimes. Great guy.” He held out a hand to Edna and she shook it.

“Freedman,” she said. “Not an uncommon name, but are you, by any chance, related to Ernie Freedman?”

“My pop,” he said, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face. His eyes darted toward Brea and he said no more.

A bit startled that Ernie hadn't mentioned anything about his son working for Grant, she didn't have time to reply before Brea said, “You'd better get your butt downstairs, Wayne. They're in the IT conference room.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He dashed around the desk. “Nice meeting you,” he called before disappearing behind the partition.

She stared after him, trying to figure out why Ernie hadn't mentioned his son to her. If Wayne's behavior had been any indication, Grant probably hadn't connected his worker with the detective he was so adamantly avoiding. Why not? She was pondering this strange turn of events when Brea's voice distracted her. “Wayne used to date Anita. Still has the hots for her, if you ask me.”

Fourteen

After leaving Grant's lunch with Brea, Edna walked slowly toward her car, irritation and resentment building. Why hadn't Ernie mentioned anything about his son working for Grant or about Wayne's connection with Anita? Here he was, accusing her son of complicity in Anita's disappearance while his own son was probably having an affair with the woman. And another thing, was Ernie using Wayne to spy on Grant?
The nerve of that man
, she thought.

“Yeah, I was supposed to, but Grant said they didn't need me after all.” He shrugged. “He said he left me a voice message, but I was running late, so I didn't bother to check for calls before I left the house.”

Despite her annoyance she couldn't help smiling to herself, imagining this son inheriting his father's organization skills or lack thereof, as it were. Thinking of Ernie fired up her anger. She decided to find out some things for herself.

“Does my son know who your father is?”

Wayne had the decency to look uncomfortable. “Actually, no. Well, that is, I don't think so,” he stammered. “He hasn't asked, and I haven't mentioned it. He's been pretty preoccupied with this big software project, or he probably would have made the connection, at least to ask about it.”

She scowled. “Are you spying on Grant for your father?”

His eyes widened as he protested, “No way. I'm not jeopardizing a good-paying job. I told Pop that right off. No way I'm getting involved.”

She considered his reaction for a lengthy pause while he steadily met her gaze. Finally, deciding on a different tack and watching his face carefully, she said, “I understand you're a friend of Anita Collier.”

“I wanted to. She was pretty friendly to me at work, like she wouldn't mind my calling her. I finally got up my nerve and phoned her one night. A guy answered, so I hung up.”

“A guy?” Edna prodded. “Do you know who it was?”

“Yeah, I do.” He sounded like a pouting teenager. “It was the guy used to go rock climbing with Lia Martin. His name's Yonny.” Wayne snorted derisively. “Yonny Pride. What a ridiculous name.”

The name was distinctive enough that Edna recognized it immediately and thought of the tall, dark-haired man to whom Grant had introduced her in the parking lot after Lia's funeral. She remembered the man's rugged good looks and couldn't help but compare him to the chubby young man in front of her. Besides a receding hairline, Wayne had inherited his father's portly girth. If he also had inherited his father's personality, women would feel comfortable around him, but she guessed he would elicit few sparks of excitement. A nice, loyal, temperate friend. She sighed. He wouldn't stand a chance of measuring up to a well-toned athlete like Yonny Pride.

“How long ago was this?” she asked, sensing by his reaction that the incident with the phone might have taken place fairly recently.

“Couple days before her parents' accident. I remember because I felt bad being mad at her after they died.” Wayne's tone softened, and his face now showed sorrow and concern. Edna marveled at how transparent his feelings were.

“Have you seen her or spoken with her since then?”

“Yes, Ma'am, and I told Pop, too. I saw her at the funeral, at her parents' funeral, but I didn't talk to her. Lot of people were hanging around her. I figure she didn't even know I was there.”

Yes, you would blend into the background
, she thought. It was probably a good characteristic for a detective but not for a young man in love. “And since the funeral? Have you seen her since then?” She was getting frustrated with his vague answers.
Another inherited trait from his father
, she thought sourly.

“No, not since then.”

She prodded him further. “Do you have any idea where she might be?”

He shook his head. “Pop asked me the same thing. Like I told him, if anyone knows where she is, it's probably Yonny.” Jealousy hardened his tone.

“Aren't you worried that she hasn't been in contact with anyone for several weeks?”

“No.” A hesitation. “Not really. Not until my dad said he couldn't find her. I didn't think much about it. She's away a lot, you know, on the job, driving around Wyoming and Montana and stuff. I wouldn't know who she talks to.” He had returned to his pouting voice.

“But aren't you concerned at all that your father can't seem to locate her?”

“Nah. Dad's good at finding things. He'll get her.”

After she had said good-bye to Wayne and he'd driven off, she attempted unsuccessfully to call Ernie before leaving the parking lot. On the way home she kept asking herself why he would have kept his son's interest in Anita a secret or, for that matter, the fact that Wayne worked for Grant. Just before reaching the house, she pulled over and parked, trying once more to reach the detective on his cell phone. As before, there was no answer. She double-checked the number he'd given her, making certain she hadn't misdialed. She wondered if he could have written it down wrong. Ernie had definitely asked her to call after she'd spoken to Rice. Puzzled and slightly disturbed, she drove on to the house.

Determined to put her worries aside, at least for a little while, she spent the afternoon pleasantly with Karissa and Jillian. When her granddaughter got home from school, Edna received another Frisbee lesson in the backyard. After she had managed to throw the disc straight to Jillian several times, the youngster cheered at her grandmother's improved skill. Only once during the afternoon did Edna manage to get away long enough to try reaching Ernie again, but without success.

At five o'clock Grant called to thank her for the lunch she had left and to say he was on his way home. He would stop to pick up Chinese food for dinner. Jillian helped her set places at the dinner table while Karissa talked to them from the living room couch. Everyone's mood was festive, and the party spirit continued when Grant arrived home loaded with small, white take-out boxes and extra fortune cookies. After dinner they played a game of Yahtzee and three hilarious rounds of Bonkers, Jillian's current favorite board game, before Edna finally declared herself exhausted and ready to call it a night.

Before going to bed, she reached for her cell phone and dialed Ernie's number, deciding that quarter past nine wasn't too late to try calling him once more. She almost dropped the small instrument when she heard him say “Hello.”

“Why haven't you answered your phone?” she asked, keeping her voice low. She didn't want Grant to hear her, in case he asked whom she was calling. “I've been trying to reach you all day.”

“The darned ringer was turned off.” Ernie sounded annoyed. “I could have sworn it was on, but when I checked about an hour ago, the blasted gizmo had been switched to vibrate. When it's in the side pocket of my coat and my coat is hanging on a chair, I can't hear the vibrator. I tell ya, Edna, I'm not sure I like all this new-fangled technology.”

Choosing to ignore his prattling, she cut in. “Why didn't you tell me your son works for Grant?” When the silence grew on the other end of the line, she went on. “And why didn't you tell me Wayne has a crush on Anita?” Crush might be more descriptive of a teenager, but it was the best word she could think of for Wayne's infatuation.