Murder by Proxy (7 page)

Having set the table, made a lettuce salad with an oil-and-vinegar dressing, and prepared a mock gravy with bouillon, flour and water, Edna looked at the clock. The meatloaf would be done in five minutes. Grant was late. She had always served supper at six for her family, and it was almost that now. Deciding not to break that long-time habit and thinking she would warm Grant's meal for him when he got home, she was on her way down the hall to ask Jillian to wash her hands when she heard the phone ring and Karissa pick it up.

Edna entered the bedroom in time to hear her daughter-in-law say, “Okay, we'll see you when you get home.” She pushed a button on the cordless phone and handed it to Jillian as she looked up at Edna. “That was Grant. He has to work late tonight and said to go ahead and eat without him. He'll grab something near the office.”

Edna hoped she disguised her disappointment. She was getting to know Karissa better but still was more comfortable with her daughter-in-law when Grant was around. When the two women were alone, the conversation felt stilted. Edna needed time to get to know Grant's second wife before she would feel like having anything more than superficial conversation. Oh, well, nothing to do but put on a good face.

“Will you wash up for supper, please,” she said to her granddaughter. To her daughter-in-law, she held out a hand. “May I help you up?”

“Thanks, Edna.” Karissa put out her hands, and together they maneuvered her to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “I'll use the bathroom and join you at the table in a minute,” she said, dismissing Edna with a shy smile.

Retreating down the hall, Edna savored the warmth of Karissa's smile. The more she was around this daughter-in-law, the more she liked her. Oh, but she missed Michele and the easy camaraderie they had shared. As she entered the kitchen, the oven's timer went off, and Edna had no more time to dwell on the past.

Determined to be cheerful and draw Karissa out, Edna regaled her dinner companions with stories of her children growing up and some of the family traditions they had enjoyed. Jillian and Karissa were delighted with the tales of Grant as a young boy.

Later in the meal conversation centered around Jillian's friends, both at school and in the neighborhood. Finishing the last bite of salad on her plate, Edna was thinking how much she had enjoyed the last half hour when she noticed that Karissa had hardly touched the food.

“Is something wrong?” Edna asked, concerned.

“No, no. Everything's fine. I guess I'm not very hungry.” Karissa put down her fork, not looking at Edna. “I think I'll just get back to bed.”

“You can lean on me, Karissa,” Jillian said, jumping up and standing beside her stepmother while Karissa, after pushing herself up from the table, put a hand on the girl's shoulder for support.

As Edna cleared the dishes, loaded the dishwasher and put away the leftover food, she thought about her son and wondered what was so important that he couldn't make it home to have an evening meal with his family.
Does this happen often?
she wondered. She surprised herself by thinking he might not be at the office at all but out somewhere. Visiting with Anita, perhaps? If only she had a car, she could drive over to Office Plus and at least see if his Celica was in the parking lot.

Mentally scolding herself for even thinking that her son was capable of such underhanded actions, she added soap to the trap in the dishwasher and turned it on. She then went to investigate what the other females in the family were up to. When she reached the open door to the master bedroom, she saw that Jillian had a book open and was reading quietly to her stepmother. Edna stood in the doorway and watched the two, happy to see how well they got along.

Jillian finished the page and was about to begin another when Karissa stopped her. “You've got school tomorrow, kiddo. It's time to get ready for bed.”

“Ahh, just one more page. Pleeease,” Jillian begged.

“You know the rules,” Karissa said lightly but firmly. She caught Edna's eye as she said this. Giving Edna a wink, she smiled back at Jillian. “Maybe tomorrow you can read a story to your grandmother.”

“Okay.” Reluctantly but obediently, Jillian gave her stepmother's cheek a kiss and scrambled off the bed. She then ran to Edna who bent to receive a good night hug and kiss.

Edna watched the child race down the hall to her room, turning back to Karissa in time to see a look of pain cross her daughter-in-law's face. All thoughts of Jillian flew from her head.

“What is it, dear? What's wrong?”

Karissa smiled weakly, sweat glazing her forehead. “The baby's very active tonight,” she said, holding onto her enlarged belly. “I think it's trying to kick its way out.” She attempted a laugh that turned quickly into a grimace.

“Oh, dear,” Edna said, chuckling to ease the tension, but with considerable sympathy. “I remember those days.” She went to the master bathroom and brought back a damp face cloth that she used to gently wipe her daughter-in-law's brow. Then, she refilled Karissa's water glass and asked if there were anything else she could do.

Tears glimmered in Karissa's eyes as she replied with a soft smile. “Not unless you can get my husband to come home.” With that, she closed her eyes and burrowed her head into a pillow.

Sensing the young woman wanted to be alone with her unhappiness, Edna left the room, quietly closing the door. The pleasure of the evening was gone.

In her own room she picked up her knitting bag and returned to the living room. She was making a baby's blanket of alternating green and yellow squares. Grant and Karissa had told the family they didn't know the baby's sex. They wanted to be surprised. They also informed anyone who asked that no, they hadn't chosen a name yet either. Karissa believed that an appropriate name would occur to her only after she held her baby in her arms and looked into his or her face. Her mother had named her in that manner and so Karissa would do the same with her own child.

Edna sat on the couch, knitting with the television on, although she couldn't have said what she was watching. She had turned it on primarily to hear other voices. She was counting rows to determine if she needed to change colors, when she heard a sound behind her. Turning abruptly and dropping her needles in the process, she looked into her granddaughter's worried eyes.

As Edna gently rocked the child back and forth, a thought popped into her head. Without giving it much thought, she said as if merely curious, “Jillian, would you tell me about your friend Anita?”

Brow wrinkled in a frown, Jillian thought for several seconds before finally shaking her head. “I guess not. I guess he didn't mean I couldn't talk to you, Gramma.” She smiled and rested her head on Edna's shoulder.

“When did you see her last?” Edna asked, stroking the child's hair.

Jillian seemed to think very hard before shrugging. “I don't know. It was a really long time ago. Before Grampa came to visit us.”

Edna realized how silly her question had been. Albert had arrived in Denver almost two weeks ago. The time prior to that would be fuzzy to an eight-year-old. She tried again. “When you saw her last, did she seem different to you? I mean, did she act differently?”

“Nope.” Jillian shook her head emphatically and gave a little giggle. “Anita's fun.” Then her small face took on a quizzical look. “Do you think she's with Mommy, Gramma?”

Shuddering inwardly that the child had voiced the question that had been haunting Edna herself, she said, “What makes you ask that?”

“Oh, nothing. It's just that she used to come here all the time and now she doesn't.”

“You know,” Edna said carefully, “her own mommy and daddy recently went to heaven. Maybe she just went away for a while, on a trip perhaps.” Then, changing the subject, she gave Jillian a hug, lifted the child off her lap and stood, holding out a hand. “Come. Let's get you to bed. You've got a busy day of school ahead of you.”

Jillian giggled. “That sounded just like when you talk to Daddy.” She lowered her voice and made Edna laugh by saying, “You've got a busy day at the office ahead of you, Grant.”

Finally getting Jillian to bed, Edna was about to return to her knitting when she remembered she hadn't taken out the trash. Going through to the kitchen and beyond to the laundry room where she had left a tied, white plastic bag, she opened the door into the large two-car garage.

One side of the garage was empty except for Jillian's pink bicycle and a few toys. That's where Grant's Celica would go, if he ever bothered to bring it in. He seemed to prefer parking it in the driveway. The other side held their larger vehicle beneath a fitted cover, the car they would use for family outings, Edna assumed. A large metal container stood against the wall at the rear of the big van, along with bins for recycling paper and aluminum. Once she had disposed of the kitchen rubbish, replaced the lid and was turning to go back into the house, she took another look at the canvas hiding the dark blue 4-Runner. Why would Grant cover the car when it was in the garage?

At that moment, Lia Martin's face popped into Edna's mind. She had been killed by a dark-colored SUV, according to the witness. Edna's heart began to pound. She reached out to touch the cloth but pulled back before her fingers brushed the fabric. Absurd. Grant wasn't a killer. There's a perfectly good explanation. Still, it wouldn't hurt to look, to make certain. With growing concern, she moved cautiously to the front of the vehicle and examined the covering. She could detect no variations in the shape of the hood, not like one side was caved in or anything like that. Again, she reached out her hand, and this time, she took hold of the cloth.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped back from the car and spun around, her hand flying to her heart. Grant was standing in the laundry room doorway, holding a pizza box.

Six

Pressing a hand over her rapidly beating heart, Edna gasped. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

“What are you doing out here, Mother?” Grant repeated the question as he stood aside to let her re-enter the house. “Why are you messing around the car?”

Walking back into the kitchen, she was glad her back was to her son as she thought frantically of what to tell him. She felt guilty for thinking even for a second that he could be capable of killing someone or helping another to cover up a murder, and she was horrified he might somehow read her mind.

“Well,” she began slowly, deciding she couldn't lie but perhaps she would tell only part of what she'd been thinking, “I was curious as to why you bother to cover the car when it's in the garage.”

Putting the pizza box on the kitchen counter and opening a cupboard above his head, Grant pulled down two small plates before turning to answer. “Oh, that. It's to keep Jillian from scratching the paint. She plays out there sometimes when the weather's bad, especially when the wind picks up. She says she doesn't like it when the wind blows dirt in her eyes.” Grant grinned at Edna as he reached around her to grab some napkins out of a red plastic holder on the counter. “Can't say as I blame her.”

Becoming aware of what her son was doing, she said, “Haven't you had supper yet?”

He looked sheepishly at the box, plates and napkins in his hand. “Sure, I grabbed a bite earlier, but Karissa called to say she'd share some pizza with me if I brought one home.”

“I made a perfectly good meatloaf for dinner. Karissa hardly touched it.”

“Guess her appetite's returned.” Grant hurried from the kitchen. Over his shoulder he called, “Good night, Mother. See you in the morning.”

She didn't know whether to be relieved that Grant wasn't going to press her further as to her actions in the garage, put off that her son had dismissed her so abruptly, or concerned about Karissa's eating habits. Turning off lights as she went, she walked through the living room and slowly down the hall to her own room. She donned her nightgown and slipped between the sheets, her head cluttered with many questions, some big, some small, but all promising to give her a restless night.

Why had Grant married Karissa so soon after Michele's death? What did Karissa think of her new mother-in-law? Was Jillian happy with her stepmother? She certainly seemed to be, Edna decided the answer to at least that one question.

Why was it so hard for her to accept her new daughter-in-law? Had Karissa not been hungry at dinnertime, or did she not like the meatloaf, or … and at this thought, Edna almost sat straight up in bed. Does she resent my being here? Mulling over this idea for several minutes, she finally decided she must have a serious talk with Karissa very soon.

Restlessly, she turned on her side and bunched the pillow beneath her head, trying to think of something neutral, something that would allow her to relax, when out of nowhere Anita's face popped into her head. She turned over onto her other side, punched the pillow, and stared wide-eyed into the darkness. No other answers came to her that night, and eventually, she managed to get a few hours of fitful sleep.

Rising early the next morning, Edna found herself alone with Grant at the breakfast table and decided that the subject of what she had been doing in the garage could be used to her advantage. Hoping to get the conversation over with before Jillian or Karissa joined them, she glanced at her son to see what kind of mood he might be in. He appeared to be in fairly good spirits, sipping a cup of coffee while he idly turned pages of the newspaper he had spread out on the table beside his plate.