The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery) (8 page)

BOOK: The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)
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“Well,” I said. “Not my business really. I didn’t mean to pry into her personal history. I’m curious and sometimes these little inklings are what help wrap it all up.”

“Well,” Mindy said. “You young people look at these things differently, I suppose.”

What things?
I wondered.

Tom added, “Something to be said for that.”

So what was it with the first Mr. Delgado? Did he desert them? Was he abusive? A criminal? There was something, and I knew that I wasn’t going to get the answers here.

“Well, I’m glad things ended up better for her. Was the new marriage happy?”

“As happy as it could be, considering,” Mindy said, shifting her eyes to the cuckoo clock.

Tom couldn’t resist adding, “Muriel wasn’t happy about it. I think that broke Carmie’s heart. Wasn’t the first time she’d had it broken.”

I could have sworn that Mindy smothered a snort of laughter. What do the Germans call that again? Oh right,
Schadenfreude
, shameful joy. And it’s not that difficult to elicit negative information from someone experiencing it, so I pressed on.

“And then?” I said.

“After Carmie died, Muriel moved away. That was it.”

“Hm. I wonder where she went,” I said, trying not to sound too desperate for an answer.

“Here and there. She was always restless.”

“Oh, so you don’t know where?”

“No idea,” they said in unison.

“But for a while, Carmen and her new husband and Muriel stayed here?”

Tom said, “It’s a sad story. Carmie got sick not long after they married.”

This time, Mindy flashed
him
a warning glance.

So far, things weren’t perfect with my fantasy grandparents. Tom had a bit of wishful thinking toward his former neighbor Carmen Delgado, and Mindy had been well aware of that. There was something else at work, though. I figured that Mindy was strong and practical. I didn’t see anything vindictive in her. She hadn’t approved of Carmen for more than one reason, if my Spidey Sense were to be believed. What were those reasons?

“Oh dear,” I said. “I need to locate her heirs. Mr. Lawson will need to know that.”

“Of course,” they said in unison.

“Could be the daughter. Muriel.” I gazed at them, waiting. “But I’ll probably need to check with the husband.”

Mindy said, “Rest his soul. He’s dead now too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t even catch his name.”

“Pete. Peter Delaney. He was a lovely man,” Mindy said with yet another glance at Tom. “A saint, really. Too good to live.”

This time, Tom shot
her
the warning glance.

So Pete Delaney. That didn’t fit with Smith as the owner. Perhaps Pete had sold?

Tom nodded in agreement. “Pete loved Carmie, no matter what, and he took good care of her.”

Hmm. No matter what. I wondered what that was.

“Did he die before she did?”

Tom said, “Yes. But not long before. She was having treatments in Grandville General when poor Pete was killed in a hit-and-run back in, let’s see, must have been 1974. That right, Mindy?”

Mindy nodded and Tom continued. “It happened as he got out of his car near the hospital on his way to visit her. He died instantly, I believe. It was a great shock to all of us. We all liked Pete. Carmie was devastated. She only lived a few months after that.”

I thought Mindy suppressed a sigh.

Tom seemed not to notice. He said, “So he wouldn’t have inherited anything from her.”

Mindy said with a bit of asperity, “She didn’t have anything. She never had anything to leave. She would have inherited whatever Pete left to her. He was practical and sensible in most things.” I took that to mean aside from his feelings for Carmie.

“But the house must have been hers. Did she own it or did he?”

Again with the glances. “We don’t know anything about that,” Mindy said.

“Nothing at all,” Tom added quickly.

Okay.

“Fair enough. So the daughter, Muriel, would have been the heir, most likely. We’ll have to follow up and see if there was a will. Mr. Lawson could do that. I hope she didn’t die intestate. I suppose there’s no way to know who their lawyer would have been.”

Tom said, “Well, it must have been—”

Mindy cleared her throat.

She was tough, that Mindy, even if she did seem like the perfect fantasy grandmother.

This time Tom stood his ground. “What harm could it do? They need to find out what Carmie’s wishes were. She probably had a will. Pete was good about things like that. She might have left things to Muriel. Muriel was her daughter. No matter what.”

Mindy pondered that and nodded. She reached over and squeezed Tom’s hand. “You’re right. That’s not a secret we need to keep.”

I wondered what secret they did need to keep and exactly what “no matter what” referred to.

“Lovely,” I said. “You have been so helpful. I hate to go back empty-handed. I try to do a good job, but sometimes circumstances make it difficult.”

Mindy said sadly, “Yes. Sometimes circumstances do make it difficult.”

“Dwight Jenkins was her lawyer. I know that because he was ours and we passed his name to Carmie and Pete when they got married. Pete wanted to make sure that Carmie was taken care of. I assumed that meant a will,” Tom said.

Mindy muttered, “Well, you couldn’t count on Carmie to get things done.”

If Tom heard her, he chose to ignore the comments. “Dwight’s in his seventies but he still has a law office in his home, right in downtown Harrison Falls.”

Mindy said, “In fact, we updated our wills not long ago and the previous ones were still there on file. Dwight’s taken care of us. Carmie’s papers will still be there and anyway, doesn’t a will have to be filed?”

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said, getting up to leave before there were any legal queries that “Clarissa” should know but I wouldn’t. I felt sure that Mindy didn’t want any secrets to leave with me. But maybe I’d be back.

Even if there were no secrets, Mindy made sure I left with a plate holding enough cinnamon buns to feed my private army, if I had one. “I’ll think of you with every bite,” I said, meaning my words on several levels. “I hope I’ll see you both again sometime. I’ll let you know how things turn out. I appreciate your help.”

In fact, I looked forward to seeing if I could catch Tom on his own. I figured there would be answers there and he seemed keen to share. I needed answers about secrets and about Carmen Delgado. To make sure that happened, I let my silky Pucci scarf slip onto the floor underneath my chair. Naturally, I would have to come back for that.

“I’ll leave you my telephone number,” I said, writing down the number of my burner phone on a page from my notebook. “I wonder if you’d mind giving me yours.”

Tom didn’t mind. Mindy seemed less than sure. But at least I knew I’d get another chance to see them and maybe get something more out of them about the Delgados.

I waved as I reached the edge of their neat walkway. Tom waved quickly and disappeared out of view in the house. I headed for the Accord, which was parked halfway between the Snows’ house and Audra’s. I hauled out my iPhone and checked for an address for Dwight Jenkins in Harrison Falls. I was smiling as I walked around to the driver’s side of the Accord. I turned back to gaze at the Snows’ perfect little home. I didn’t pay much attention to the roar of an engine.

I didn’t feel a thing until the shock of the collision.

I never saw what hit me.

CHAPTER FIVE

I
DID
HEAR
PEOPLE
screaming, sirens, ambulances screeching to a halt. I could still smell the baked treats, which gave me comfort and something to focus on. As the pain set in, all I remember thinking was,
Not the cinnamon
buns!

But once off the asphalt and without my magical cinnamon smelling salts, I lost consciousness before my arrival at Emergency at Grandville General Hospital. I guess I missed a lot of the exciting stuff.

Kev’s face was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. I didn’t mean to scream, but he can have that effect on people.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

“You’re lucky! Talk about a horseshoe up your—”

Uncle Mick shouldered him out of the way. “What happened, Jordan?”

Kev bleated, “She was smacked by a truck and thrown ten feet. Right through the air.”

Mick was pale as milk and his gingery freckles stood out in sharp relief against his skin. I stared at the freckles, fascinated. They must have given me something for pain or nausea, because the deep orange spots began arranging themselves into patterns and shapes.

He tried again, “Do you know what happened, my girl?”

I blinked. I really was hoping someone else would be able to tell
me
what happened. What Kev had said couldn’t be right. I tried to shake my head “no” but that didn’t work out all that well. Suddenly everyone had four heads.

“Where am I?”

“Emergency. Grandville General Hospital.”

I blinked again and regretted it instantly. It hurt when I blinked. Everything hurt. I’ve read somewhere that swearing can reduce pain. I was ready to blurt out a doozy.

“Why?”

Kev’s disembodied voice said, “Apparently you got hit by a truck.”

“Hit by a—? Really?”

Kev stuck his head around Uncle Mick and said, “Yeah. You were doing something on Maple Street and someone slammed into you and took off.” Was he eating something? For the first time in ages, I was not tempted by the idea of eating.

“I don’t remember anything. Except somebody screaming. Maybe that was me.”

“Shock,” said Uncle Mick, stepping in front of Kev and blocking him from my view. “It will take a while.”

Now Kev’s head appeared on the other side of Uncle Mick. “The docs say you’re going to be all right. You’re pretty well drugged up now, so don’t worry if you feel woozy.”

I did feel woozy. I needed to start worrying soon.

“Lucky, though,” Kev chirped.

Mick turned on him. “Stop saying that, Kevin. She’s not lucky. She could have been killed.”

Kev never knows when to shut up. I realized that even if he didn’t.

“But she should have been killed when that truck whacked her and tossed her through the air like an old—”

Uncle Mick cleared his throat warningly.

Kev blundered on. “But hey. She’s all in one piece. If that ain’t lucky, I don’t know what is.”

Even in my drugged state, I could see that Uncle Mick was on the verge of a medical event himself.

Kev babbled on. “You can thank those leaf bags.”

“What?”

“You can thank those leaf bags.”

Uncle Mick stomped out of sight. Probably needed to get away so he didn’t pop Kev in the jaw or something.

I had no idea what he meant. “Leaf bags,” I said. “What leaf bags?”

“Just what I said. Leaf bags.”

I would have stomped off to join Uncle Mick if I hadn’t been flat on my back on a gurney with my head swimming. “I heard you, Kev, but I still don’t know what that means. Why should I thank them?”

“You went flying through the air and landed on the leaf bags by the side of the road.”

“And the driver?”

“Gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Up in smoke. Disappeared.” Kev was even wordier than usual.

Uncle Mick had returned, but it wouldn’t take much to set him off again. The freckles on his forehead now formed the word “DANGER.” He said, “We get the point. Will you settle down, Kevin?” Uncle Mick’s cheeks were now Christmas red, but Kev never really notices details about people. He added, “The driver was nowhere to be seen.”

Uncle Mick glared at him. “Could you ever keep quiet for one minute of your life?”

I felt like a spectator watching a play on a distant stage.

“Lucky me,” I said with a smile.

“Double lucky,” Kev said, “because this other woman was out walking her kids in the stroller. She came around the corner, saw you get hit and called 911.”

“Right. That must have been Audra.”

Kev said, “Yeah, yeah. That’s her name. Nice-looking lady. She called me.”

“She called you?” I was spinning again. I closed my eyes. I felt like I was being flushed down a toilet.

Mick glared at Kev. “Keep quiet. And Jordan, maybe it would be better if you didn’t try to talk until later.”

I said, “But what happened to all those cinnamon buns?”

With that, I drifted off to sleep, watching Mick’s shape-shifting freckles turn into cinnamon swirls.

*   *   *

IT TOOK NEARLY
an entire day before I was back at Uncle Mick’s. There was quite a welcoming committee. Uncle Lucky and his new wife, Karen, were bustling around. Mick was busy whipping up a giant batch of macaroni and cheese dinner with a wiener upgrade. Walter and Cobain thought that kisses would make me get better, and they may have been right about that. They were curled up on the end of my bed while I recuperated. Uncle Danny and Uncle Billy were visiting as well but mostly telling tall tales in the kitchen. I knew most of those tales by heart, but it was soothing to hear snippets of them and the whoops of laughter drifting up the stairs. I thought I’d overheard Uncle Connie’s, Uncle Tiny’s and Uncle Paddy’s voices, but why would they be there?

Kev was back too. I guess it was one step short of an Irish wake.

Every now and then, I heard them whispering. Wakes bring out the conspiracies in the Kellys.

I was starting to be more aware, glad to be alive and conscious. The sight and sound of all those Kellys in wake mode told me I must have had a really close call. I wiggled my hands and my feet, fingers and toes. I lifted my arms, one after the other, and bent my elbows. I tried the same thing with the legs. Bent the knees. Lifted my feet, one after the other. I sat up and moved my head from side to side. Major aches and some pain, but everything appeared to be working. Well, maybe not the sitting-up part. I closed my eyes and let my head rest on the pillow again. Walter’s curly tail thumped against the pink bedding. Cobain licked my hand.

Everyone was supposed to let me rest, but Kev couldn’t resist sneaking upstairs. “So, do you remember anything?”

“No. I do remember the doctor saying that I may never remember what happened.”

“Lucky for you that woman can describe the vehicle that hit you. The cops will want to talk to you about that.”

“I can’t tell them anything. I didn’t see it. I didn’t even know I’d been hit until I heard about it from you in the hospital.”

“Why were you on Maple Street anyway?”

“Oh. I am starting to remember that. I was talking to Tom and Mindy Snow about the Delgados. They are Audra’s neighbors. They were very helpful. Except they were holding back on something to do with Carmen Delgado. Not sure what it was, but I intend to go back and see them.”

Kev blinked. “Who’s Carmen Delgado?”

“Apparently, she was Muriel’s mother. There’s some kind of story there. Some bad things happened.”

“That reminds me: This woman, Audra Something, was trying to see you at the hospital. She seems to be a bit mixed up about your name.”

“Oh boy. I really liked her. I told her and the Snows that I was Clarissa Montaine and that I worked for Lawson and Loblaw down in Albany and was searching for a C. Delgado. I left my Pucci scarf at the Snows’ so I’d have an excuse to go back again and try to get some more information on Carmen.”

“This Audra saved your life.”

“I am grateful.” Even though I’d deceived her.

Kev said, “And then she called me. Otherwise, I don’t know what would have happened.”

I let that go. Didn’t want to think about the other possible outcomes. “How would she know to call you?”

“That burner phone was thrown right out of your hand, I guess. She must have picked it up and I was the only contact except for herself and the geezers down the street.”

“The Snows.”

“Whatever. Anyway, she said you were being taken to Grandville General Hospital.”

“And did she really say ‘the geezers’?”

“Not exactly those words. She mentioned older neighbors. The geezers came out to help too, I guess. Put a blanket on you and kept you warm until the emergency vehicle arrived.”

“One more time, Kev, the geezers are the Snows. Do they know who I am?”

He had the grace to look sheepish as he so often does. “You mean the gee—the Snows? I think so. The paramedics checked your wallet and you’re listed as yourself here at the hospital. I didn’t know enough to keep them in the dark. You should call me first when you’re out pretending to be someone else. I love that kind of thing.”

My head hurt. “Does Vera know I’ve been hit?”

Uncle Kev couldn’t meet my eyes. “She does.”

“How did she find out? Was it on the news?”

“I told her after I got the call. I thought she needed to hear it. The signora was hysterical. More hysterical than usual, anyway. As it wasn’t you calling me or me calling you, I figured the no-contact rule wouldn’t apply.”

“And did it?”

Kev frowned. “She didn’t say one way or the other.”

“Well, what did she say? Was it ‘Unless Jordan’s at death’s door, no one is to make contact under any circumstances’?”

He shrugged. “You know Vera. Stranger things have happened.”

I tried not to roll my eyes, mainly because it hurt. “Back to the question, Kev. What exactly did Vera say?”

He shook his head, still not meeting my eyes. “She didn’t say anything.”

“Nice.” I’d treated her cats’ hairballs with more consideration than she’d given me.

“I don’t get it,” Kev said. “I think the news really bothered her, but she didn’t let on to Muriel. She spent the rest of the day in her room, if it’s any consolation.”

It wasn’t.

“You said that Audra saw the vehicle that hit me.”

“That’s what she told me when she called.”

“Did she say what kind of truck it was?”

“She didn’t tell me. She was pretty upset.”

“Well, I bet she told the police. I don’t suppose you spoke to them?”

Kev paled. He’s not good with police and in fact is skilled at avoiding them. Probably all for the best.

I lay back against my stacks of pillows and closed my eyes. “It has to be Muriel. Nothing else makes sense. I was snooping into her past and talking to her former neighbors when someone did a good job of trying to kill me.”

“And would have succeeded if those leaf bags weren’t there.”

“Thanks, Kev. But how would Muriel have known I was checking out her background?”

“What do you mean? Oh, maybe she followed you. No, she couldn’t have done that. She was at home—” A guilty expression stole across his face. “I meant she was at Van Alst House all day.”

“Even when I was hit?”

He nodded.

“It’s all right, Kev. She may have been at Van Alst House, but I know she’s still behind it. Even if I can’t prove it, I’m not going to let her mess with my head. I’ll concentrate on finding out about her and her hold over Vera. I don’t want to be distracted by negative emotions.”

Kev nodded. “Like wanting to kill her?”

It only hurt when I laughed.

“Why yes, Kev, like that. How would Muriel know that I would be in that neighborhood? She must have gotten spooked by one of her previous neighbors. A woman on Lilac Lane was making a phone call to someone after she saw me. Muriel could have arranged to have someone else follow me, but she wouldn’t have known it was me. Jordan Bingham was nowhere to be seen. I was out and about as Clarissa Montaine. I didn’t use my name. I didn’t drive my car. I wore the red wig. I left the Saab parked in front of the shop.”

Kev’s ginger eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. I’d lost him at “why yes.”

I said, “And you of all people—as a Kelly—should be aware of how easy it is for people to appear to be somewhere and yet to be somewhere completely different.”

“I wish she didn’t have such a great alibi.”

“Maybe it’s not airtight.”

“It is. She was in the house in full view. She’s usually in her suite doing who knows what. But at the time you were hit, she was in the kitchen meddling with the signora’s cooking, telling her what kind of menus she wanted. Did I mention she hates Italian food? I was there too. She got everyone into a real flap. Even Vera got called into it and she got really riled up and you know she couldn’t care less about who eats what.”

I found myself pouting a bit. It happens if you’re around Kev for too long. I said, “Fine, so even if she had found out I was there on Maple Street and her previous addresses or even if she decided to stage an attack on anyone asking questions about her, she still couldn’t have been the one to hit me.”

“Yeah. It would have been great if she had.”

BOOK: The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)
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