Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery) (9 page)

“Dear Lord,” I sighed. “What a mess.”

“Indeed.”

“Poor kid. Father dead, mother dead, aunt dead,
grandparents dead. She’s really an orphan.”

“Not quite, Miz Scarlet.”

“No?”

“Her father’s parents are still alive out in
California.”

“They are?” A little piece of me flickered inside,
hope springing eternal. Was it possible this could all turn around?
“Do you think they might want to meet Jenny?”

“Honestly?” He paused. “I don’t know. It’s
complicated. Maybe their son had the chance to tell them and they
don’t want anything to do with Jenny. Maybe they have no clue they
even have a granddaughter. I won’t know until I have a chance to
talk with them. The bad news is that Steve might actually have more
of a leg to stand on now that we know Vivian wasn’t Jenny’s real
mother. At least now he can’t totally blind-side us in court.”

“But surely the basic facts of the case still remain,
Kenny. Vivian still wasn’t of sound mind when she married him, and
that shouldn’t change the fact that she set aside money for Jenny’s
education. Jenny’s still a relative.”

“The thing is Steve is claiming that Vivian changed
her will after he married her. The case isn’t cut and dried any
more.”

“Damn.” I thought long and hard about it. In my book,
nothing had really changed. I still planned to help Jenny get
through college. It might take a little longer, but it was
doable.

“Babe, I’ve got to go. I’ll be up this weekend and
we’ll sit down with her and go over things.”

“Okay.” It was hard to keep the disappointment out of
my voice. Kenny picked up on it immediately.

“Scarlet, don’t worry. We’ll figure this thing out.
We made a promise to her and we’re going to keep it. Bye.”

“Bye.”
We
made a promise to her and we’re going to keep it
. That almost sounded like a commitment. It did, didn’t
it?

“What’s up?” said a voice behind me. I jumped at the
unexpected sound of Jenny’s arrival, as she came through the
butler’s pantry. For a moment, I studied her. She had changed so
much in the last few weeks. It was now the middle of August. Next
week, we would sign her up for her first college class. She’d take
the SATs when she was ready to matriculate. Already far more
confident, her hair was cut short, in a spiky little pixie cut,
slightly tom boyish. She wore shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt.
She had put on five pounds and it looked good on her.

“Nothing much.” I forced a smile onto my face and
turned to get busy with the bread for sandwiches. “Tennis lesson
this morning?”

“Yup. And then I’m going out for lunch with
Meanie.”

“Meanie? Who’s Meanie?”

“That’s just his nickname. They call him Amino Acid,
because he’s studying biochemistry. He’s one of the tennis
instructors.”

“Wow, a tennis player who’s going to be a scientist?
Grab him up!” She laughed as I said that.

“He’s kind of geeky,” she acknowledged. “And a little
shy.”

“In other words, he’s a nice guy.”

“Mmm....”

“I’m glad. Go have fun.”

Bur wandered into the kitchen just before noon. He
was looking for Laurel because he lost a button on his shirt and
needed it sewn on.

“She’s finishing her physical therapy session on the
porch.”

“I’ll just wait.”

I was about to say something to him about Jenny when
Huck and January started making a ruckus in the front hall. Bur and
I hurried out to the hallway in time to see the teenager
desperately trying to shut the front door on a hand.

“What in God’s name is going on?” I demanded. The
look on Jenny’s face gave me the answer. She was terrified of
whoever was on the other side of that door. Bur moved fast, pulled
the girl out of the way, and yanked open the door.

“What the f-f-f...” Bur was stunned by what he found.
A masked man burst through the door, knife in hand, and reached for
Jenny. It happened so fast, my brother just stood there, unable to
fathom what he saw.

“Don’t you dare!” I screamed. “Don’t you freaking
dare!”

I had already picked up the golf club Bur left in the
corner by the door, and I was ready to swing at the masked man’s
head. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but something almost
imperceptible changed in his eyes. What was it? Ah, he knew I
really would clobber him with the club.

“Leave!” I bellowed, my voice guttural, gritty. “Get
out of this house right now!”

Even as I said those words, I could hear a siren fast
approaching. Bur moved forward, extending his hand to Jenny, who
gratefully took it with a whimper, even as he pulled her hard in
his direction, away from the intruder’s reach. She stumbled, nearly
losing her footing. Now I had a clear path to swing at the
knife-wielding miscreant, and it was enough to make him run.
Following him to the front door, the three of us stood open-mouthed
as the man in black headed down the lane, towards a black sedan
parked in the distance. As he got behind the wheel and started the
engine, I noticed the right tail light was broken. With any luck,
the cops would pull him over for trying to snatch Jenny. And if
not, maybe they’d get him for that traffic violation. I made a
mental note to let the cops know about it.

Two police cruisers arrived almost simultaneously.
Bur rushed out to the driveway to spit out the details. I grabbed
Jenny and held her trembling body in my arms. As I did, I saw
Laurel wheel herself into the foyer. Her face was troubled, pale,
and her lips were firmly set in a grimace.

“What in God’s name was that all
about?” she demanded. “Who in heaven’s name was that? And what did
he want with our Jenny?”
Our
Jenny.

My mother was mad. Spitting mad. Next thing I knew,
she held out her arms to the teenager and the girl flew across the
room, flinging herself in my mother’s lap with a sob of pure
misery.

For one teeny little moment, I felt a pang of
jealousy as my mother comforted the motherless child. And then I
realized something about Laurel Googins that I had never understood
before -- she was fiercely protective of this waif, this orphan who
had found her way to our doorstep. She already thought of Jenny as
the granddaughter I had never given her, and nobody messes with
Laurel’s peeps. Lord help you if you try. My mother might be
wheelchair-bound, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from
mowing down anyone who posed a threat to someone she loves. That
motorized scooter of hers has some power and a determined driver
behind the hand gears.

It turned out that Laurel had just bid her physical
therapist, Lori, farewell when she spied the masked man creeping
through the bushes at the front of the house and dialed 911 on her
cell phone. The police dispatcher warned her to stay in the library
until the police arrived.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Jenny cried,
kneeling on the floor before my mother.

“Oh, child!” exclaimed the fearless Googins girl,
patting the trembling shoulder kindly. “There’s nothing to thank me
for -- you would have done the same thing in my shoes.”

It was true. Jenny would have. I think it helped her
to realize the truth of that statement.

I caught Kenny at the office a short time later and
filled him in. “Aw, geez. Not good.”

“No kidding.”

“No, I mean not good, Scarlet. The New York cops just
obtained a search warrant and served it on the assistant manager of
the jewelry store that was robbed. He was the inside man.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Sort of. He only knew two of the guys, one of whom
was Richie.”

“Two is better than one.”

“Except the assistant manager was just found dead in
his jail cell at Rikers Island. Apparently, he mouthed off to
another inmate and got himself strangled. The cops are trying to
put together the clues so they can round up the second guy. Let’s
hope that goes well.”

Chapter Nine --

“When it rains, it pours,” I responded. It was true.
The way things were looking, we were going to need a really big
umbrella.

“Listen, I’m coming up there. In the meantime, keep
Jenny home. Don’t let her out of your sight. Maybe you should give
Larry a call.”

“I might just do that,” I agreed. “Drive safely. Get
here in one piece.”

Larry was a homicide detective I met when a couple of
inn guests were murdered a couple of months ago. They were only at
the Four Acorns Inn as part of a plot to ruin Bur and me. I had no
way of knowing that the secret affair I had with an eco-terrorist
was less about love and all about hate for the Googins family
history. It turned out the guy was a serious tree-hugger, who took
exception to our family involvement in the forestry business. His
own secret was well buried with the skeletons of his long-dead
relatives. When Larry showed up with some of her colleagues to
investigate, we ended up being friends. Named after her father, she
was all business on the job and didn’t take any crap from anyone,
male or female, but off the job, she was a hoot. She could also
drink me under the table on our girls’ nights out.

She picked up the phone on the second ring, and I
heard that dry chuckle in my ear. “Well, well. What did the cat
drag in this time? I haven’t heard from Miz Scarlet in some time.
You must be in trouble, girl.”

Larry can be very accurate, even when she isn’t
trying. I heaved a great sigh.

“Oh, come on! You can’t be serious. What did you do
this time?” she demanded. I gave her the short version. “Damn. It
sounds like you picked a kid just like you! Do you have any idea
how many cases I’m working on right now?”

“Yeah, but at least with this one, you don’t have a
stiff yet,” I shot back. I heard a moment of silence, followed by a
very loud belly laugh.

“Give me half an hour. And you damn well better feed
me something good for lunch, Miz Scarlet.”

“Lobster? Filet mignon?” I offered.

“Anything but tuna. That stuff is nasty!”

Bur was relieved when I told him Larry was on her
way. I think part of that was due to the fact that Larry really is
gorgeous -- coal black ringlets that shine, skin the color of café
au lait, and a very lean, well-shaped body that she hones at the
local gym. My brother has a thing for good-looking women, but most
of all he loves a challenge. Larry had his number the first time
she met him, and she keeps him on his toes, totally immune to his
charm. She earned his respect by the way she handled things on the
case of the imposing imposter. Most of her fellow Connecticut state
troopers call her a cop’s cop. When she digs in, and narrows down
the list of possible suspects, she doesn’t stop until she corners
the guilty guy. Grown men fear her, even the men on her team. She
deliberately carries only hot pink Bics with her, not because she’s
a girly girl. She says it’s the only way she can be sure they will
keep their grubby paws off her pens.

Bur and Laurel kept Jenny company in the living room,
watching “The Price Is Right” while I made lunch. Lacey was off for
the day with her latest conquest, Raphael Rodriguez, who insisted
on taking her to an authentic meal at Cuba Libré, owned by one of
his buddies. Two of our guests, Ms. Bagdadi and Mrs. Werther, had
left early in the morning for the Connecticut Shore, to take in the
exhibits at the Florence Griswold Museum in Old Lyme. They weren’t
expected back until dinner time. Lucille Wymans, retired elementary
school music teacher, was at a luncheon reception with former
classmates from the Hartt School of Music. Eric Plouffe was at a
meeting in Hartford. With the guests all safely out of the way, I
was hoping we could wrap this case up quickly, before there was any
more nonsense.

Larry arrived just after the chicken came off the
range top grill. I let the meat rest while I answered the door.
Dressed in a pair of soft lime green slacks, a white linen jacket,
a turquoise silk tank top, and sandals in turquoise snakeskin
leather, she looked like the Caribbean equivalent of a hot female
cop. I caught a whiff of “Romance” as I leaned in for a hug and a
double-cheek air kiss. Ralph Lauren eau de parfum, recently
applied.

“New boyfriend,” I decided drolly. She slyly evaded
eye contact, so I knew I hit pay dirt.

“No time today, sister. Now, where’s the wild child?”
she asked, quickly changing the subject. He must be a keeper if she
wasn’t talking.

“In the living room.”

I made the introductions, explaining to Jenny that
Larry was considered a family friend and was stopping by for lunch,
and then I excused myself to head out to the kitchen, arriving just
in time. Scrub Oak was pacing round and round in tight circles just
below the grilled chicken. I shooed the cat away, only to find two
hungry dogs under foot. Slicing the meat, I arranged it on top of
baby field greens, added some shredded cheddar cheese, cherry
tomatoes, shredded carrots, cucumber slices, and avocado. I pulled
out some ciabatta bread, sliced it thinly with a serrated knife,
buttered each piece, and plated the final result. When everything
was on the table, I called the gang to the dining room.

“Oh, my favorite,” said Larry, eyeing the meal with
the enthusiasm of a dedicated foodie. “You have any of that
Champagne vinaigrette?”

“I do.”

We chatted as we ate, avoiding the big subject. I
watched Larry watch Jenny, and I knew she was trying to get a
handle on the teenager. By the time I brought out the fruit salad
and raspberry sherbet, the homicide investigator was rather quiet.
That usually meant she had something on her mind and she was
seeking an opening in the wall she wanted to bring tumbling
down.

Laurel and Bur excused themselves. Bur had work to do
back in his office in the carriage house and my mother had calls to
make as chairwoman of the White Oak Hill Park Conservation Society.
Larry, Jenny and I stayed at the table, and I poured another round
of coffee. That’s when Larry made her move, pouncing faster than a
conniving jaguar on an unsuspecting gazelle.