Murder by Proxy (11 page)

Marcie laughed. “You should ask Grant about that. He's done a great job of automating the process for us. Everyone in the field carries a laptop computer. Sales are recorded and downloaded to our main database. We receive orders all day long. Grant has two full-time people who monitor the orders and another to make sure our communication lines stay up.”

Edna shook her head. “I'm afraid this is way over my head.”

Marcie was obviously pleased to explain. “All our customers have standing orders. They're what we call blanket orders that are filled on a regular basis. Nobody has to contact this office unless they want to change an order. Most of our customers log in themselves to make any necessary revision before the next consignment is scheduled to ship. It's all done over the Internet.”

Edna was still skeptical about the personnel issues. “How do you know if someone is still working for you? How do you know they haven't quit and gone to work for another company?”

Marcie yielded slightly. “Actually, I usually do hear at least once a week from most of my people when they're in the field. In any case, I have a mandatory monthly staff meeting. As a matter of fact, there's one scheduled for next Friday, a week from today. Anita will show up for that. If not, she's got to call in and give me a darn good reason why she won't be here.”

Edna did a quick mental calculation. “If you haven't seen her since the funeral, she must have missed the last meeting.”

“That was shortly after I told her to take some time off. I didn't expect her to attend last month. As I said, her sales have been outstanding this year, so I wasn't concerned when she didn't show up or call in. I doubt she'll skip another, though. If I do say so, the meetings are very informative and inspiring.”

Edna felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Why hadn't anyone told her this before? Anita would be here next Friday. Certainly, Grant should have known. Why hadn't he simply told this to Ernie? Thinking of the detective, she felt elated over the good news she would have for him. At most, Ernie would have only six more days to wait before he could speak to Anita.

Looking at her watch, she was surprised to see it was nearly two-thirty. She had to be back at the house by three o'clock when Jillian got home. She was about to say as much to Marcie when a knock sounded on the door and Grant poked his head in.

Grant escorted Edna out of the building, apologizing that he hadn't gotten away from Peter in time to give her a tour of the plant.

“Marcie was telling me about Rice and Peter vying for the CEO position,” she said as they headed toward the visitors' parking area. “Which one do you hope will get the job?”

“I get along okay with both of them,” Grant said, noncommittally, as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and walked with his head down. After a slight pause, he added, “I imagine she gave you an earful about Rice.”

“As a matter of fact, she did. She says her days will be numbered if Rice is chosen to head the company.”

“She probably doesn't really care who gets it. According to the grape vine, Marcie's already job hunting. I don't think it will take her long to find something else. She's good at what she does. Too bad she got involved with Rice back when. She's blamed him for her lack of promotions ever since, but I think it's her attitude that's done most of the damage. Maybe it'll be good for her to move on.” They'd arrived at the car by that time, and he opened the door for her before turning hurriedly to stride back to the building.

Leaving the parking lot, she stopped for a car that was pulling out of a space farther down the row. Driving by the newly emptied slot, she noticed a shiny black coupe with darkly tinted windows driving down the next lane, parallel to her. It looked exactly like the one she had seen in Grant's neighborhood yesterday.

She was puzzling over the coincidence when the blast of a horn startled her attention back to her own driving where she was drifting to the left, heading toward another vehicle that was approaching the visitors' parking area. She swerved back to avoid a head-on collision and, heart pounding, managed to exit the lot without further incident and without spotting the black car again.

On the way home, she glanced several times in the rearview mirror, wondering if she was being followed.
Ridiculous
, she thought with a shake of her head.
Why would anyone be tailing me?
“I must stop being so paranoid,” she muttered, as her eyes strayed once more to the rearview mirror.

Nine

Arriving at the house, Edna pulled into the garage, as she and Grant had discussed. The Celica had no air conditioning, and Grant said the car would be like an oven if it sat in the Colorado sun, regardless of how cool the air temperature was outside. She pressed the remote that was clipped to the sun visor. As the garage door buzzed and clanked its descent, she turned and pushed herself out of the driver's seat. When she did so, she glanced backward in time to see the lower half of a shiny black coupe moving slowly past the house. She bent, hoping to catch sight of the driver, but the garage door dropped too quickly.

Was it the same car? There must be more than one new-looking black vehicle in the area. She suddenly thought of Jillian. What if the car belonged to a child molester? What if he was casing the neighborhood, waiting for a chance to grab some unsuspecting youngster? If it was the same car she had seen in the neighborhood yesterday, what was it doing at Grant's office today? She must try to get the license plate number. Maybe Ernie could get the owner's name for her.

Hurrying into the house and over to the wide living room window, she parted the filmy white curtains to look into the street. No black car in sight. As a matter of fact, there were no cars on the street at all, parked or moving. She turned and strode down the hall, hearing voices and laughter before she reached Karissa's bedroom door.

Entering the room, she saw her daughter-in-law lying in her usual position on her left side, surrounded by pillows. This afternoon the rest of the bed was almost completely covered with magazines. A woman she hadn't met before was sitting on a chair beside the bed. The two women were flipping through the publications, showing each other different pages and chattering away like a couple of magpies.

“Edna, you're home.” Karissa, looking up from an issue of
Oprah
, sounded happy to see her. “Come meet my friend Sudie.”

The stout woman, her dark hair woven into a single long braid that hung down her back, smiled and nodded, trying to stand as she clutched at a small stack of magazines in her lap. “I'm happy to meet you.”

“Please don't get up. It's nice to meet you, too.” Edna nodded her acknowledgment of the introduction before turning to Karissa. “Where's Jillian? Is she home from school?”

Her daughter-in-law frowned. “She's spending the afternoon at a friend's. Hallie's mom called to ask if it was okay. Why? Is something wrong? You look worried.”

“I just saw a black car drive by. I saw the same one yesterday. At least, it looked like the same one.” Listening to her own words, she realized again she might be mistaken about the car. She knew nothing about automobiles except that the one she had seen on both occasions was small, sporty looking, and seemed well cared for. “Do you know if anyone around here drives a shiny black car with tinted windows?”

Sudie and Karissa looked at each other as if communicating by mental telepathy. After a few faint facial and shoulder gestures, they both turned back to her. “No,” Sudie said with an accent so slight Edna wondered if she had imagined it. “I live across the street, two houses down.” She waved vaguely to her left. “The car you describe doesn't sound like one I've seen around.”

“Didn't Tio get home from the service a few days ago?” Karissa asked Sudie.

“He was supposed to, but I haven't seen him yet.” She turned to Edna, explaining, “Antonio's my next door neighbor's boy. Karissa's right. It might be his car. I'll call over there tonight and ask them just to be sure.”

Feeling only slightly better, she left the two women to their magazines and went to change into slacks and a pullover. Having the afternoon unexpectedly to herself, she felt at loose ends. She wanted to talk to Ernie, tell him what she had learned about Anita, but she had no way of contacting him. Thinking of Anita reminded her that she wanted to browse back issues of the local newspapers to see what she could find out about the Colliers' accident.

Edna let Karissa know where she was going and set off on foot. She didn't see a black car but kept an eye out for one as she walked six blocks to the library. She and Albert had discovered the place on one of their jaunts around the area, and she had been meaning to go back, delighted to know it was so close.

Inside the small, single-story brick building, Edna quickly found the newspaper and magazine racks. She selected several back issues of the Arvada Sentinel and took them to a nearby table. The article she was looking for was in the third issue she perused, six weeks back, under the headline “Couple Killed in Auto Crash.” The short piece barely described the accident, saying only that the brakes had failed as the car descended the hill at Sixty-Ninth and Ward Road. One witness, a man who had been about to cross at the walk located north of the accident site, saw the car descending much too fast before it veered out of control. The car jumped the curb and sideswiped a lamp post before rolling onto its top and coming to rest against a wooden fence. From other reports, police believed Collier swerved to avoid a cat, which probably caused him to lose control of the vehicle. Both Harrington Collier and his wife Loretta were pronounced dead at the scene.

After reading the article Edna sat staring down at the newsprint, thinking how quickly one's life could change. She folded the papers and returned them to the racks, sad and depressed. As she walked home, she wondered what it must feel like for a young woman to lose both parents in such a senseless manner. Two fatal accidents. No, three, she thought, remembering Michele's disaster last winter. Anita had recently lost not only her parents but two close friends.

Sudie was gone by the time Edna got back to the house. Karissa was lying on the couch in the living room with several throw pillows supporting her shoulders and head. After hanging up her coat and hat, Edna stood before the entryway mirror to fluff her curls back into place, noticing as she did so the sadness in her eyes. She made a determined effort to look more cheerful than she felt as she went to sit near Karissa. Her daughter-in-law was leafing through an issue of Sewing World.

Grabbing onto the topic as a distraction from her dismal thoughts, she said, “Do you sew?”

“Yes. I make all my clothes. Jillian's too,” Karissa added, smiling shyly.

Thinking back to some of the outfits she had seen on her granddaughter, Edna's eyes widened in amazement. “Even her jerseys and slacks?”

“Yes, everything. I made her a down parka last winter.”

Before this, she had thought Karissa a spendthrift with all her talk about shopping and her constant leafing through magazines. Now she realized her daughter-in-law must be gathering ideas for styles. She was trying to adjust to this new mental image of Karissa when Jillian burst through the front door.

“I'm home,” the youngster shouted to the room, tossing a small red backpack at the closet door and heading into the living room.

Edna's heart warmed at the sight of the child, although she mentally shook her head at the careless way Jillian discarded her belongings.

Karissa laughed and shouted back without sitting up, “Hi, Jilly. Glad you're home.” Then, in a more subdued voice, she said, “Did I just hear a backpack hit the floor?”

Apparently Jillian had been reprimanded before because without losing a step, she spun around and headed back to the entryway. “Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry.” She picked up her pack, opened the closet and hung it on one of several low hooks that had obviously been installed for her on the back of the door.

Edna watched in amusement as Jillian flounced over to give her grandmother a hug before bestowing a quick kiss on Karissa's cheek. She then lifted the magazine to see what her stepmother was reading.

“You miss making things, don't you?” she said, perching on the edge of the sofa as Karissa shifted her weight to make some room for the little girl.

“Yes, Sweetie, I do.” She tickled Jillian as she replied, then added, “Your father called to say he has to work late again tonight.”

“Quietly, child. We're right here beside you. No need to shout.” Karissa put her hands over her ears, a mock look of pain on her face. “Why don't you show your grandmother how to make them? Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Jillian's excitement was apparent, but she kept her voice down. “Want to, Gramma?”

“That sounds like fun.”

Edna, impressed with Karissa's easy way with Jillian, followed her granddaughter to the kitchen, leaving Karissa to her magazines. She was slowly developing a more complete picture of Grant's second wife, and she liked what she saw.

For the next half hour she and Jillian browned and drained hamburger meat and chopped tomatoes and lettuce. Jillian insisted on grating the cheese, which was fine with Edna. When it came time to make guacamole, Jillian had to run into the living room several times to confer with her stepmother, but eventually all ingredients were on the table along with place settings and Karissa waddled into the dining room to eat. The plates with their red, green and yellow ingredients looked festive.