Haunting Refrain (25 page)

“I didn’t hit—”

He cut her off. “Do you know what this car cost? These bumpers alone are worth a fortune. I’m calling the police.”

“Sir, if you’ll just—”

Looking her up and down, taking in her worn jeans and stained shirt, he ranted, looming over her. “You’re probably on drugs or something. Don’t think you can get out of it!”

“Quit yelling!” Temper replaced shock. Hands on her hips, she faced him. “Your car isn’t hurt. I barely touched the damn thing.”

“You’ll pay for this! You give me your name and address right now.” He reached for her, and Kate sidestepped away from him.

As he got in her face, Kate could smell the liquor. “Sober up and look around you, mister. There’s nothing wrong with your car, and I’m not giving you anything!”

He grabbed at her again,
then
stopped, raising his eyes. “Ahem. Well, you should be more careful.” He turned quickly and walked to the other side of his car and got in.

Kate, surprised at his sudden withdrawal but pleased with herself, turned back to her car, almost bumping into a T-shirt-covered bosom.
Startled, she looked up.

Josephine
Wardlaw
towered over her, grinning. “You’re pretty tough for a little thing. I guess it’s that red hair.”

“Josephine! Well.” Kate felt her ego deflate like an old balloon. “I guess I know what changed his mind.”

“You were doing all right till he decided to get physical. It was probably his wife’s car.” The big woman laughed.

“Listen, I know we didn’t hit it off too well before, but I really need to talk to you about Kelly,” Kate said.

“Tell me what your interest is in all
this,
and I might.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the car, crossing one ankle over the other.

“Okay, fair enough.” Kate took a deep breath. “Have you been reading John
Gerrard’s
articles?”

“Yeah.
So?”

“I’m Kate McGuire.” She waited to see if the name would register.

“Ah, the psychic.
Well, this ought to be interesting.”

Kate explained briefly what she had seen. “I know it sounds crazy. It does to me, too. But I’m sure the murderer knew Kelly and was jealous, or angry. Do you know if she was seeing someone in secret? Did you ever see her with anyone when she didn’t want you to?”

“I never saw him, but I’m sure she was dating someone. She was practically engaged to Bill Norris, the basketball player, but he went back home to
Georgia
for the summer. That’s why she didn’t want anyone to know about the other guy.”

“Of course!”
Kate smacked herself in the forehead. “I never thought about its being Kelly who wanted to keep it secret.”

“Yeah, and Bill was due back the week after she disappeared.”

“That’s it! She was trying to break it off, and he didn’t want to let go.”

“Makes sense, if he’s nuts.
That’s a little extreme for most people, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but most people don’t kill. I think he
is
‘nuts.’” She smiled at the other woman, fished a card out of her bag, and handed it to Josephine. “Thanks. If you think of anything else, would you let me know?”

“Why?
You playing girl detective?”

“Not exactly.
It haunts me. I have to find out what happened to her. And he just attacked my friend
Venice
. That’s why I’m here.”

“Yeah, I read about that in this morning’s paper.”

“You did? It was in the paper?” Kate frowned. “Damn him. Now he knows
Venice
is alive!”

“Damn who? I can guess who knows the woman’s alive.”

“John Gerrard, that’s
who
!”

* * *

Kate fumed all the way up the steps to the studio. How could he put
Venice
in danger, just for a story? Unlocking the door, she tossed her bag and the newspaper she had just bought onto the desk and snatched up the phone. John had gone to the court house in
Oconee
County
. She was forced to settle for another nasty message on his answering machine.

Just as she hung up, the phone rang
. Knowing it couldn’t be John, she willed herself to sound pleasant. “Good morning, Period Portraits. May I help you?”

A soft voice whispered, “Is this Kate McGuire?”

Rita!
“Yes. Rita?”

“Yes. I can’t talk now, but I’m going to the grocery in few minutes. Can you meet me at the Winn Dixie on
Mills Avenue
?
The one by K-Mart?”

Kate guessed she was at home and didn’t want her parents to overhear. “I’ll be right there. Ten minutes.”

Rita hung up without saying any more.

Midmorning traffic made the trip more like fifteen minutes, but Kate spotted Rita, standing by a pile of pumpkins, right away.

“I thought you’d see me here,” Rita said, nodding at the pumpkins. “I brought you some of Charlene’s things.
It’s
letters and pictures and things from her desk. Do you think any of it will help?” She kept looking over her shoulder, shifting from foot to foot, as she handed Kate a shoebox tied with brown twine.

“I hope so.” Kate hugged the box to her chest, feeling the excitement build.

“Could I have them back, you know, after you look at them?” The poor girl looked miserable.

Kate’s heart ached for her.
“Of course.
Can I keep them for a couple of days?”

“Yes. No one will notice.” The fear of exposure faded and, eyes bright with tears, she focused on Kate. “Have you and Mr. Gerrard found anything yet?”

“Not yet.” She wished she had something to offer, but she couldn’t lie to the girl. “Rita, do you know if Charlene was dating anyone more than others, or if there was anything unusual about any of her relationships?”

Rita looked at her for a minute before answering. “I don’t really know, but I think she went out a few times with someone who was different, maybe older.”

“Different how?
Can you think of an example?” Kate’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. This was the man, she was sure of it.
“Anything at all.”

“A few times she got really dressed up, and then she would say she was meeting some girlfriends and go out in her car. She seemed to be kind of excited, but trying to hide it.”

“Why would she hide it?”

A quick, conspiratorial smile flashed over Rita’s wan face. “Dad’s very strict. He wouldn’t have let her go with someone he didn’t approve of. She’s had to sneak out before. I helped her sometimes.”

“Did she ever mention going any place different?”

“No, that’s the odd part. I asked where she was going, and she said ‘
Nowhere,
and I’m tired of it.’ She sounded unhappy about it. I wished I hadn’t asked. It spoiled her mood.” Rita looked up, adding, “But she had a couple of dates with someone else right at the end. Larry Crawford. He picked her up at the house. My dad liked him. He worked with Larry’s dad.”

“I guess the police checked him out.”

“Yes. It couldn’t have been Larry.” She blushed, and then stared at the pumpkins, looking more miserable than ever.

In a burst of insight, Kate asked, “Rita, are you seeing Larry now?”

“I want to, but Dad won’t let me date anybody. I know it’s because he’s afraid for me, but . . .
“ Rita’s
voice changed into a sniffle as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Please find out who killed Charlene. He’s killing the rest of us, too.”

“I’ll try, Rita.” Kate, feeling hopelessly inadequate, handed her a Kleenex.

Rita blew her nose and straightened, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand.” Kate racked her brain for anything that might give them a clue to the killer. “Can you think of anything at all that would help describe the man? Like, maybe she suddenly got interested in something different or started talking about some unusual activity?” Kate knew she was clutching at straws, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

“No.” Rita rubbed the side of her nose and scratched an ankle with her foot, thinking. She shrugged helplessly,
then
brightened. “But she did say something about a car once. It was only a week or so before she
—
 
We
were out and this red convertible pulled up beside us. I said that was some car, and she laughed and said I should see what she’d been riding in. That’s not much, is it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’ll be something in the box.”

“I have to go. Someone will see us and tell my parents. They’ll guess it was you,” she said, her gaze flicking to Kate’s hair.

“I understand. I don’t want to cause any trouble. How can I contact you to give the box back?”

“Don’t. It’ll just set Daddy off again,” she said. “Can I call you on Monday? That’s my next day off, and I usually go to the store after lunch.”

“That’s fine.” Impulsively, Kate hugged her. “Thank you, Rita. It was good of you to do this.”

The girl scurried into the store and disappeared.

Kate couldn’t wait to get into the box but, aware that it held memories and fragile links that meant so much to Charlene’s family, she wouldn’t risk losing anything in the car. She waited until she got back in the studio.

Before she had a chance to open it, Gwen tapped lightly on the door and waltzed in. “Kate, you ought to keep that door locked.”

“I forgot,” she said, putting Charlene’s box aside. “Did you get my message about
Venice
?”

“Yes, I came here from the hospital. Martin said I just missed you. The doctor came while I was there. He’s going to let Martin take her home this afternoon.”

“Great! Maybe I should plan to stay with her.”

“No, Martin has arranged for a couple of off-duty cops to take turns, and he’ll be there. Detective Waite set it up.” Gwen added, “She told Martin it was worth it if it would keep him and John Gerrard off her back.”

“John? What does he have to do with it?”

“He agreed to plant that article in this morning’s paper if Waite would get someone to watch
Venice
. I think
Venice
is really frightened now. She and Martin were all for it.” Gwen looked at Kate, puzzled. “Didn’t you know?”

“No! You mean they’re using
Venice
for bait?” She sprang from her chair.
“My God!
What are they thinking?”

“I think I know why they left you out,” Gwen said, arching an eyebrow. “Kate, it would have been in the paper in the Crime Beat section anyway. Martin said John bargained with Waite to get protection for
Venice
. He said he’d print the story any way she wanted it as long as
Venice
would be safe. Do you think whoever attacked her wouldn’t notice that no murder was reported?”