Murder by Proxy (20 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Young

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Murder by Proxy
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“Oh, dear. What's the matter?” Edna was on her feet in an instant, leaning over her daughter-in-law. Her pulse raced with fear when Karissa didn't respond immediately.

“I'll be fine,” the young woman finally stuttered, “but maybe I should get to bed.”

Slowly and very gently, Edna helped Karissa to her feet and down the hall to the master bedroom. Edna's worries increased as she realized she was supporting most of her daughter-in-law's weight.

“Shall I call your doctor?” she asked, once Karissa was lying in bed and she had pulled the comforter up to her shoulders.

“No, I'll be fine. If you could just shut out the sun … ”

Edna went immediately to pull the drapes against the afternoon sun that spilled into the room. With her hand on the pull cord, she stopped and drew an involuntary breath.

“What is it?” Karissa asked from the bed, moving as if to rise to the aid of her mother-in-law. “What's wrong?”

Edna nodded toward the stained-glass adornment hanging in the middle of the large window. The sun reflected through the swirling shapes and unusual colors. “Where did you get this? I saw almost an exact copy of it this morning.”

“You must be mistaken. That was a wedding present from Anita. She makes them, and each is uniquely hers. You see, she draws her own designs and special-orders her glass because she's very particular about the colors. She's hoping to start her own business and get out of what she calls the sales racket.”

“Has she given away many of these or sold them, do you know?”

“I do know. She wouldn't sell them. She's trying to build up her inventory. We're the only ones she's ever given one of her creations to. Not even Lia had one.”

Edna didn't want to distress her daughter-in-law by disagreeing with her, but having an artist's eye herself, she was certain the glass art she had seen in the window of Yonny Pride's cabin had been made by Anita Collier.

 

 

 

Seventeen

 

He was lying to me all along
, she thought, leaving Karissa to sleep and heading for her own room to call Ernie. If Yonny had one of Anita's glass pictures, and Edna was willing to bet it didn't belong to the absent owner of the cottage, then Yonny must know Anita a lot better than he had admitted.

If it were true that Anita had known him for such a short time, as Lia had related to Karissa, then why would she turn to Yonny for help if, in fact, that is what she has done?
Is she alive? Is she being held against her will? Why is her art hanging in his window?

Edna thought back on her encounter of that morning. She hadn't felt particularly threatened by Yonny. She thought he seemed to be a caring sort of person. He was kind to his dog, and that certainly raised him in her estimation. His manner made her feel he might be slightly conceited, but he was not overly obvious or obnoxious about it. And he did have reason to be vain, she admitted to herself. He was a handsome young man, and women probably threw themselves at him. So why would he lie about knowing Anita?

 

What would be his connection to Anita? The thought kept spinning around in her head as she listened to the phone ring on the other end of the line. Why didn't Ernie pick up? Had he turned off his cell phone's ringer so as not to disturb his wife in the hospital? With that realization, she disconnected the call. She shouldn't disturb him. He had enough to worry about. She would go back to Eldorado Springs first thing in the morning and knock on Yonny's door. She'd find some excuse to get inside that house or straight out ask him about the stained glass.

She went back to the living room, her head buzzing with too many questions. Sitting on the couch, she tried to work things out in her mind, but she was so tired. Fixing a throw pillow behind her head, she settled back and closed her eyes.

“Gramma, Gramma, you missed all the fun.”

Edna was startled awake by Jillian shaking her arm.

“Leave your grandmother alone, Jilly. Can't you see she was asleep?” Grant's voice, sounding as if he were suppressing anger, came from behind Edna. “Put your coat away and go clean up. Then check to see if Karissa needs anything, please.”

With her usual bouncy step, Jillian skipped off down the hall, calling to Karissa as she went.

“Hello, Ma.” Grant lowered himself into the overstuffed chair across the coffee table from her. “Glad to see you made it home. I thought you wanted to go to the botanical gardens with us this afternoon.”

Still groggy from being awakened so abruptly, Edna was saved from replying to her son's implied criticism by Jillian shouting down the hall.

“Daddy, come quick.”

His expression changed to alarm at the urgency in his daughter's tone. Pushing up from the chair, he ran down the hall. Edna followed, her heart skipping a beat.

“What is it?” he asked, rushing into the bedroom.

“I didn't mean to scare Jillybean,” Karissa smiled weakly, holding out a hand toward the girl. “It's really nothing to worry about. The baby's restless today, that's all. He or she just gave me a very big kick, and I'm afraid I yelped.” She tried to speak lightly, but Edna could see beads of perspiration on her brow and upper lip.

Grant sat carefully on the side of the bed and took Karissa's hand. “Has this been going on all afternoon?” His glance hardened when he turned to look at his mother as if she were to blame for his wife's pain.

Karissa tugged at his hand, causing him to look back at her. “Your mother has been with me ever since you left. She has a right to some time away from here.” When Grant started to protest, she stopped him by dropping his hand and putting her fingers gently against his lips. “No, listen to me. Edna's been here when it matters. She's been getting our meals and entertaining Jillian after school. This isn't a prison, Grant.” She put her hand back into his and her look softened only slightly. “What's gotten into you? I've never seen you like this. It's unfair to think that your mother must sit at my bedside all day on the off chance that I might need her.”

Edna watched the color begin to creep up her son's neck and into his cheeks as he lowered his head and played with his wife's fingertips. Jillian had moved to his side, and he slipped an arm around her waist, hoisting her onto his knee. “I think I owe all my women an apology,” he said and turned to look at Edna. “I guess I haven't been easy to live with lately. I'm sorry.”

Jillian put her arms around her father's neck and gave him a hug. “I still love you, Daddy.”
The laughter in the room helped ease the tension, and Grant seemed to relax as he hugged his daughter back.
“I've had a lot on my mind recently, and apparently, I've been taking it out on all of you.” He was still looking at Edna.
Karissa caught Edna's glance, but her words were directed at Grant. “Are you worried about Anita?”

Surprise widened his eyes as he turned to face his wife. He hesitated several seconds while he studied her. “Well, that's part of it.” He looked again at his mother, then back to his wife before asking, “What do you know about Anita?”

Edna moved a small straight-backed chair nearer the bed and sat, saying as she did so, “I told her what I know about Anita's disappearance and what Ernie Freedman has been trying to do to find her.”

He frowned, looking again from his mother to his wife. “Did she upset you?” he asked Karissa. “Is that what started the baby kicking so hard?”

“No, Grant,” she said. “First of all, I told you, I'm fine. Secondly, I asked Edna to tell me what you wouldn't. I've been going crazy trying to guess what's been on your mind. I knew something was up with Anita, since she hasn't been around and hasn't called, but you won't talk to me.”

“What's wrong with Anita?” Jillian's small voice cut into the conversation going on around her.

With a guilty start, the adults all looked at one another, then all eyes returned to the little girl's worried face. Since she was looking at her father, he was the one who spoke. “It's nothing, Sweetheart. Anita went off to be by herself for a while after her mother and father died in the car accident. We haven't heard from her, and we're kind of worried. That's all.” He kissed the top of her head. “It'll be okay. I'm sure we'll hear from her soon.” He stood her on her feet and rose from the bed. “Now, how about if we go get pizza for supper?”

“Yeah!” Jillian shouted and raced out of the room ahead of her father.

When Grant and Jillian returned from their errand, bringing home not just one but two varieties of pizza, the family all gathered around Karissa's bed and had a bedroom picnic, as Jillian called it. Edna felt better when she noticed that Karissa seemed to be resting more comfortably. She had been relieved when Grant agreed that Karissa should stay in bed rather than attempt the walk to the dining room.

Conversation remained light, and no more mention was made of Anita or of any other topic that might make Jillian think of Anita. Mainly to distract her granddaughter, Edna entertained them all with tales of her cat Benjamin and his new friend and neighbor Hank, a black Labrador retriever. After dinner, she played card games with Jillian, giving Grant a chance to spend some time alone with Karissa. Glad to call it an early night, she went to bed shortly after Jillian. Despite the nap she had taken, she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She was awakened by Grant turning on the overhead light in her room. Dizzy from sitting up abruptly, she fought to understand what he was saying to her.

“I'm taking Karissa to the hospital.”

“What's wrong?”

“I'm not sure, but I think the baby might be coming. Jillian's still asleep, and I don't want to wake her. I'll call you when I know something.” With that, he left the room and she could hear him helping Karissa out of the bedroom.

The sound of them moving down the hallway wiped the last vestiges of fuzziness from her head. Jumping out of bed and pulling on her robe, she raced to the living room, grabbed pillows and the afghan off the sofa and hurried out to the driveway. Grant helped Karissa into the back seat of the SUV and Edna made her comfortable with the pillows, wrapping the blanket around her as Grant got behind the wheel and started the engine.

In the house, after watching until the 4-Runner disappeared down the street, Edna was wide awake. The kitchen clock told her it was two twenty-seven, but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Worried and agitated, she brewed a cup of tea and sat at the dining room table, hoping it wouldn't be too long before she heard from Grant. She prayed that Karissa and the baby would both be fine. From what they had all said, Karissa was barely out of her eighth month, but maybe they had figured wrong. Then again, eight-month terms weren't unheard of.

Trying to stop herself from imagining the worst, Edna forced her mind to the window hanging she had seen at Yonny's, convinced that he knew more about Anita than he let on. She wouldn't disturb Ernie. His wife must not be doing well if he hadn't called to check in. With those thoughts reeling around in her head, she decided that regardless of whatever else was going on, she must return to Eldorado Springs as soon as possible. She had only this one last chance to find out what Yonny really knew about Anita's disappearance.

 

 

 

Eighteen

 

Edna managed to doze fitfully on the couch for a couple of hours and finally rose at quarter past seven to start a pot of strong coffee before heading for the shower. Feeling anxious about Karissa and restless to get back to the tiny mountain town, she had already decided that if she hadn't heard from her son by eight o'clock this morning, she would roust Jillian out of bed. After breakfast they'd both go to the hospital. Certainly someone would know something by then.

“It's a boy.” Grant sounded both tired and elated when he phoned ten minutes before she had determined to waken Jillian.

“Everyone's okay?” She wouldn't let herself relax until she heard the words.

“Yes.” He gave a short laugh. It was a wonderful sound. “Yes,” he repeated, “Karissa and the baby are doing great. You should see him, Ma.”

She laughed delightedly. “I plan to very soon.” She chuckled again at her son's excitement, then asked, “How much does he weigh?”
“Seven pounds, three ounces. The doctor says he's perfectly formed and healthy.”
“Oh, Grant, that's terrific news. How is Karissa feeling?”
“She's tired but looking forward to being mobile again. Says she can't wait to get out of the house to go shopping.”

The thought of getting out of the house reminded Edna of her plans for the morning. “I was about to wake Jillian,” she began, but before she could finish speaking the thought, her granddaughter wandered into the room, wiping sleep from her eyes with the knuckles of one small fist. “Who're you talking to, Gramma?”

She motioned her granddaughter over as she said to Grant, “Here's your daughter now. I'll let you tell her.” She handed the phone to Jillian and watched the child's face light up with a wide grin as she heard the news. After listening briefly, Jillian waved the receiver in the air, tilted her head back and shouted, “I got a brother! Yippee!”

Laughing and rescuing the phone, Edna spoke to her son. “We'll be over as soon as we've had some breakfast.” Before he could protest and just in case he had other plans, Edna put the receiver back into the cradle and instructed her granddaughter to get dressed. Mentally arranging her schedule, she decided that after seeing Karissa and the baby, she would leave Jillian with her father and head for Eldorado Springs. This was working out nicely, she thought, smiling to herself as she popped two ready-made waffles into the toaster.

At Lutheran Medical Center, she stopped at the reception desk to ask directions to Karissa Davies' room. She also wanted to find out if a Mrs. Freedman was a patient in the hospital but thought the receptionist might feel she was violating patient confidentiality to answer a question phrased in such a manner. Edna had learned a thing or two from Albert about how to approach hospital staff. Taking hold of Jillian's hand, she started toward the elevators before turning around to ask. “Oh, yes, and can you tell me which room Mrs. Freedman is in? The number has slipped my mind, and like a dummy, I didn't write it down.” She looked sheepishly at the plump, elderly woman behind the desk.

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