Murder by Proxy (15 page)

Feeling the weight of her questions pressing down on her shoulders, she got back into her car, knowing she wouldn't get any answers from Ernie this morning. She kept his car in sight as they turned north toward Broomfield and the hotel that he had told her was at the east end of an industrial park known as Interlocken. His earlier description of Flatirons Crossing, one of the newer “mega” shopping malls in the area, did nothing to excite her. She was not in the mood for shopping, no matter how many or how grand the stores. Rather, scenes from this morning's tour whirled in her head. Images of the park where Lia had been killed mixed with the spectacular lake view, the Colliers' large house and Ernie's words, “We're partners.” Partners. But overlaying everything was the one thought that always remained prominent:
Where was Anita?

Thirteen

At the Omni, Ernie didn't stop when Edna turned into the parking lot but waved as he drove away. Proud of herself and relieved that she had reached her destination without having lost sight of his vehicle, she hurried into the hotel. She hoped she had arrived before Rice. It fit her plan better to be at a table before he walked in, nervous as she was over confronting him.

Off the main lobby, a pleasant young man greeted her at the wide entrance to the restaurant. At her request, he seated her at a small table where she could keep an eye on the door. She said she was meeting someone and would have a cup of tea while she waited. It was five minutes to eleven when she looked at her watch after the waiter left to fill her order.

Glancing around, she saw only three other people in the restaurant. A young woman dressed in a navy blue business suit was leafing through a stack of papers while eating a salad, and an older couple (retired, Edna thought) talked quietly over coffee. The waiter brought her tea and poured for her before setting the small pot on the table. She took a sip of the Earl Grey and was setting her cup back into its saucer when Rice walked through the door. He was studying the young woman, alone at her table, as he drew nearer to Edna. His selective vision would have ruled out the older people in the room. Edna was certain he hadn't seen her.

“Excuse me.” She caught Rice's attention as he was about to walk by. “Don't I know you?”

He turned, frowning for a second or two before giving her a charming smile. “You look familiar to me too. By any chance, have you worked at Office Plus? Is that where I might have seen you?”

She forced a delighted laugh, hoping she sounded sincere. “No, but my son does. I was there yesterday, but I would have remembered if I'd met you.” She waited to give him a chance to place her, feeling somehow it would please him to do so.

She felt her smile fade, reminded that several people had died recently and that this was serious business she was conducting. Attempting another, less bright smile, she said, “Oh, yes. Mr. Ryan, isn't it? I remember now. Grant introduced us in the parking lot.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “Won't you join me?” She was ready to hold onto his hand if he showed any intention of hurrying away, but he surprised her with his eagerness to sit.

“What are you having?” He eyed the teapot as the waiter approached the table. “This won't do. Have some wine with me.”

Before she could decline, he was talking to the waiter. “Jason, bring us two glasses of your special Chardonnay and some nachos, will you? Oh, and put this lady's tea on my tab.”

“Certainly, Mr. Ryan.” The waiter went off, anxious to please.

“That's very nice of you,” she stammered, feeling as if she was losing control of the situation.

He studied her across the table, obviously surprised to see her in the restaurant. “If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing at the Omni? Don't tell me Grant has you staying at a hotel.” He smiled to let her know he was joking.

She laughed politely in return, determined to out-charm the man. “No, I'm waiting for a friend. We were supposed to meet for brunch, but I'm beginning to think I've been stood up.” She didn't elaborate on her lie, believing the less said the better. Instead, she turned the topic to him, “And you?”

“Oh, I'm a regular for Friday lunch. I'm meeting some business clients. Boring stuff, really, or I'd ask you to join us.”

The waiter chose that time to bring the wine and appetizer to the table. She preferred to stick with her tea but didn't refuse Rice's hospitality. He raised his glass in a silent toast before taking a large swallow.

She wet her lips with the Chardonnay and put her glass down. She knew his time with her would be limited, so she decided to get him talking about himself and move quickly on to his wife. “I've been fascinated by the mix of people I've met here. Grant tells me that almost everyone he knows is a transplant to Colorado. Did you move from elsewhere or were you born here?”

“I'm originally from Chicago.”

She gave a tinkling laugh of delight. It was the sort of reaction she thought he might expect from an empty-headed older woman. “You see,” she gushed delightedly, “my son is right. So, what brought you to Denver?” She picked up her wine and put it to her lips as he drank deeply from his glass.

“I came west to find my fortune.” He gave a short laugh, apparently finding humor in his reply, before switching the subject to her. “Are you enjoying your visit to our fair city?”

“Yes, thank you.” She wasn't letting him off that easily. “Do you have family in Colorado?”

“Only my wife. My brothers and sisters prefer to stay in Chicago.” He frowned, looking into his glass as he mentioned his siblings.

She noticed the plural. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“There are nine of us. I'm the oldest.”

“Oh, my,” she said, not certain what she had expected to hear, but definitely not so large a number. “That's a lot of mouths to feed.” The comment slipped out when she thought of her own four children as teenagers with what seemed like bottomless pits of stomachs.

He snorted a curt laugh. “We weren't the wealthiest family on the block, that's for sure. Pop works hard. He's always worked hard, but he never seems to get anywhere.”

“What sort of work does he do?”

“He owns a garage. I grew up working at the garage. My brothers still do. I'm the only one who left. As soon as my brother Joey was sixteen, that made four of us at the shop and Ralphie coming along in another year. I figured I could split and no one would miss me.”

“Speaking from a mother's perspective, I can say that probably isn't true.” Edna's natural inclination was to reassure the man of his worth to his family, while at the same time she was thinking,
so he’s been a mechanic
, and wondered if he might have fiddled with his father-in-law's car.

At her last remark, he lifted his eyes to her face and smiled. “Have you had a chance to meet many of Grant's friends since you've been here?”

She almost laughed aloud. Rice seemed to be pumping her for information as much as she was him.
All right
, she thought,
give a little to get a little
. “Not very many. I'm spending most of my time getting to know my new daughter-in-law.”

He finished his wine and held the empty glass up, motioning to the waiter. She took the opportunity to broach the subject she was most interested in.

“I seem to remember your wife was a good friend of my late daughter-in-law. Michele spoke very highly of Anita.”

He frowned, as if having difficulty pulling memories from the past. “Yes, I guess they spent a lot of time together, but that was before Anita and I were married.”

Before she could reply, the waiter returned and set down a fresh glass of wine, taking the empty away. As soon as the young man was out of earshot, she slipped her question in before Rice could speak again.

“I'd like to meet your wife. Her kindness meant a great deal to my family. Would you know how I could reach her?”

A look of surprise swept the scowl off his face. “Hasn't Grant told you that Anita and I are separated?” Suspicion glinted in his eyes. “He probably knows where she is better than I do. The two of them have been chummy for years.” He studied her face closely, as if trying to learn something from her reaction.

She felt her anger flare at his insinuation but tried to keep it from her voice. Remembering the old adage about catching more flies with honey, she said, “As a matter of fact, he did tell me about your wife filing for divorce, but he doesn't know where she is. Actually, he's worried that she hasn't contacted him. If you haven't been in touch with her directly, maybe you have an idea of where she might have gone or a friend she might be staying with.”

He twirled his glass slowly between thumb and forefinger, watching the amber liquid. It was a few seconds before he looked at her. “What I think … no, let me rephrase that. What I
hope
she's doing, wherever she is, is reconsidering her marriage vows. I'm sure she'll come to her senses and forget all that nonsense about a divorce. You see, Mrs. Davies, I love my wife very much. I want her back, but I think Grant is keeping her from me.”

If you love her so much, why are you fooling around with Brea?
The thought stuck in Edna's mind as she pressed her lips together to keep from voicing her opinion. Just then, the anger on Rice's face disappeared so quickly, she might have imagined his fury until she realized with a start that he was looking at someone behind her.

He waved and, as two men paused by their table, said, “Hi. Glad you could make it. Be with you in a minute.” He waited until the men had been seated at a table near the large windows before turning back to her. The pleasure vanished from his face as quickly as it had appeared.

Fearing he was about to leave, she hurriedly repeated, “Is there anyone you can think of with whom Anita would stay?”

He drank the remainder of his wine in one easy gulp, wiped his mouth on a napkin and, bending forward over the table to rise, put his face close to hers. “If she isn't in Denver, then my guess is she's probably with her great-aunt in New York.” He stood, a smile widening his mouth, but not reaching his eyes. “Tell you what, though, wherever she's gone, she'll be back next week for the sales meeting. I don't allow anyone to miss that.”

Edna gazed at Rice's back as he walked away to join his associates. She had the distinct feeling he hadn't believed her when she told him Grant didn't know where Anita was. As she thought about Rice's supposition that Anita had gone to New York, her pulse began to beat faster, and she stared anew at the man leaning over the table to greet his lunch guests. How does he know about Anita’s great-aunt? The thought struck her like a blow that left her breathless. Grant had been adamant about Anita's having no family except for her parents.

Edna grabbed up her tote bag and coat and hurried from the restaurant. In her car she fumbled for her cell phone. Snatching up the slip of paper Ernie had given her, she dialed his number. She listened with increasing impatience to the ringing on the line. Why didn't he answer? She wanted to ask if he'd ever mentioned Anita's great-aunt to Rice. After counting twenty rings, she angrily hit the disconnect button. Ernie had specifically asked her to call once she had spoken to Rice. He'd seemed eager, in fact, to learn what Rice might say. So, why wasn't he picking up?

Forgetting to check if a shiny black coupe was tailing her, she followed the directions Ernie had given her to get back home. She would have been pleased with herself for not getting lost on the way if it weren't for her annoyance at the detective and a new sensation, a vague feeling of unease. She couldn't identify its source, but a very real sense of disquiet was causing her stomach to roil.

Pondering her conversation with Rice, she entered the house and went down the hall to see what Karissa might want for lunch. Her daughter-in-law was on the phone when Edna walked into the bedroom. This time it wasn't the cell phone she held but the cordless that usually sat on the nightstand. Edna had learned early on that the cell was kept free for emergencies or for husband and wife to reach each other without delay.

“Oh, here she is now. I'll have her pick up the extension.” Holding the phone away from her ear, Karissa said, “Starling's on the line. If you get on the extension in the kitchen, we can all talk.”

The pleasure of chatting with her youngest child dissolved Edna's concerns of the morning as she hurried to the kitchen. She picked up the handset in time to hear Starling say to Karissa, “You mean he doesn't even come home for lunch anymore?”

The enthusiasm of her daughter's greeting warmed her heart while, at the same time, shot a pang of homesickness through her. “How are you, Starling?” She hoped she sounded as cheery as her child.

“Fine, Mom.” She heard Starling giggle. “Actually, I'm much better than Dad. He thinks you've been hanging out with another man.”

Edna felt heat crawl up her neck and flush her cheeks. She was glad she wasn't where Karissa could see her. “Your father has an over-active imagination. He caught me at the grocery store. Probably heard some man talking nearby. That's all.”