Vi Agra Falls (27 page)

Caitlin had shredded the paper napkin and was picking up the pieces. “I feel useless. I had no idea how involved you got with these murder cases. I always thought Dad was just teasing you.”

“Unfortunately,” Judith said, “he's not.”

Renie had left the kitchen while Judith was talking to Woody. She returned through the swinging half-doors, her expression ominous. “I thought I heard something outside,” she said, standing by the sink. “There's another car over at Herself's. I went out on the porch and heard raised voices, but I couldn't see who was talking.”

Judith started to get up from the chair, but the phone rang. She leaned sideways to grab the receiver, hoping it was Woody with encouraging news.

“Hey, it's your Georgia peach,” Joe said cheerfully. “How's it going?”

“Ah…great. Fine,” Judith lied, mouthing Joe's name for the benefit of Renie and Caitlin. “How are you?”

“Just about ready to wind things up here tomorrow,” Joe replied, “but don't wait dinner. I probably won't get in until fairly late.” His voice took on a more sober note. “I take it you're keeping out of trouble?”

“Absolutely.” Judith bolted out of the chair. “Renie and Caitlin and I are just chatting. Would you like to talk to your daughter?”

“Sure, put her on,” Joe said. “Say, anything you'd like me to bring back from Atlanta?”

“Ah…” Judith was leaning so far across the table that she almost lost her balance. “No, not at the moment. Here's Caitlin.” She shoved the phone at her stepdaughter, regained her balance, and followed Renie out to the front porch.

All seemed quiet in the cul-de-sac.

“Are you sure you heard something?” Judith asked.

“Yes.” Renie pointed toward Vivian's house. “The voices definitely came from over there. Mrs. Swanson's house is vacant, and the Ericsons never make noise. In fact, I wasn't sure they knew how to talk until about five years ago when I accidentally ran over their recycling bin.”

“They are quiet,” Judith allowed. “They don't have children. That can make for a more peaceful life.”

“Yes.” Renie sighed. “Then, if they're like my three, they get married and move far, far away, and you wish they were still under your roof, making noises like the mosh pit at a rock concert.”

“I keep worrying that Mike will get transferred to some distant forest service job,” Judith said. “Look at Caitlin—she gets back here only once or—hey, is someone there on the sidewalk by Mrs. Swanson's?”

Renie peered toward the corner where the cul-de-sac joined the through street. “Yes. It's a man. He's pacing around. It looks like Mandrake Stokes.”

“Let's see what's up with him,” Judith said, going down the steps. “Maybe he's waiting for a cab.” Halfway across the cul-de-sac, she called his name. “Mr. Stokes! Do you need a ride?”

Standing under the shelter of the maple tree in the parking strip, Mandrake Stokes looked startled. “A car is coming for me,” he replied stiffly. “I'm going to the airport.”

The cousins reached the corner. “You must've finished your business here,” Judith remarked. “I hope it went well.”

“It went nowhere,” Stokes replied through taut lips. “That's why I'm going elsewhere. This was a wild goose chase.” He shook his head. “People are very odd.”

“You're referring to the Double UB ranch?” Judith inquired.

“Of course.” Stokes peered at a pair of headlights coming
along the street off Heraldsgate Avenue. “I'm a businessman, not an attorney,” he said hastily. “I am unable to sort through this ownership problem.” The car slowed down. “I believe this must be my ride.” He tipped his hat and walked swiftly to the rear passenger door. “Farewell, ladies,” he called as he got inside the car.

Judith watched the vehicle make a wide turn to head down the southbound street. For a fleeting moment, she got a look at the car under the streetlight.

“Oh, no!” she cried, digging the cell phone out of her pocket. “That's not a hired car! It's Herself's lavender Bentley!”

“So?” Renie said as Judith dialed the number she'd memorized for Mercedes and Darnell.

“Give me a minute,” Judith shot back. “Darnell? It's Judith Flynn. Where are you?”

“By the firehouse on top of the hill,” he replied. “What's up?”

Judith quickly gave a description of the car, adding that it might not have a valid state license plate. “It's the other car Mrs. Buss had shipped from Florida. I've no idea who's driving, but they're headed south from the B&B, and I think Mandrake Stokes may be in danger.”

“Who?” Darnell sounded puzzled.

“I'll explain later. Just find that car and stop them, okay?”

“If you say so,” Darnell responded.

Grateful that Darnell and Mercedes took her seriously, Judith disconnected. “The patrol cops are by the fire station,” she said to Renie. “That's only about six or seven blocks from here.”

“Now we've got
two
kidnappings?” Renie said in disbelief.

“Maybe.” Judith's expression was grim. “Let's hope that's all we have. Why on earth didn't I figure this out—” Her cell phone rang just as she was putting it back in her pocket.

“Mrs. Flynn?” K. C. Griffin's voice was brusque. “Detective
Price asked me to call you. What kind of information do you have?”

“More than I did when Woody talked to you,” Judith replied. “Could you stop by the B&B?”

“Oh…” The policewoman sounded pained. “Can't it wait?”

“No. Is Almquist with you?”

“Hardly. I'm home. I don't let him near me after-hours. I mean—” Griffin made a vexed sound. “I separate my work from my private life.”

“Then go back to work and get yourselves to Hillside Manor,” Judith retorted.
“Please
.”

“This better be good,” Griffin said sourly, and hung up.

“Mismatched partners,” Judith muttered. “Come on, let's do our own surveillance of Vivian's house.”

“Good grief!” Renie looked mulish. “It's after nine o'clock, it's dark, it's raining, and I want to watch the Upper Midwest Tractor Pull Competition on TV.”

“No, you don't,” Judith declared, cautiously opening the gate to Mrs. Swanson's backyard. “We'll get by the fence between the houses and stand under the plum tree. That way, we not only can see Vivian's house, but anybody coming into the cul-de-sac.”

“Like the guy from the booby hatch who's going to put a net over your head?”

“Keep your voice down,” Judith urged in a whisper. “The Busses may have some windows open.”

“Okay, okay.” Renie sounded annoyed. “I don't know what you're going to see or hear, but—ow!” Grabbing her foot, she let loose with a string of obscenities.

Judith turned around. “What is it?” she hissed.

“I stepped on a rock,” Renie said, hopping up and down while rubbing her injured sole.

“You're barefoot!” Judith exclaimed, trying to keep her voice low.

“It's summer. Since when did I wear shoes in the summer except to drive?”

“You are an idiot,” Judith murmured. “I hear music.”

“Good for you,” Renie said, walking gingerly on the sore foot. “Are they playing our swan song?”

“No, it's big-band stuff,” Judith said, crouching down as far as she could against the plum tree's trunk.

Renie knelt beside Judith. “I hear it now. It's pretty loud.”

“A good thing, since you won't lower your—” She stopped speaking as the music ended abruptly.

Herself's raised voice could be heard, railing at someone. “It makes not a damned bit of difference, you feebleminded moron! We're still rich! Just keep your mouth shut!”

A man spoke, but not loud enough for the cousins to hear what he said. “Billy?” Judith whispered.

“Maybe.” Renie had finally softened her tone.

“Just do as I say,” Vivian yelled. “Get your suitcase. You won't need that much because we won't…” The words faded away as she, too, spoke more quietly.

Another woman's voice interrupted. Again, the cousins couldn't make out what she was saying. Judith hazarded a guess as to the speaker. “Adelita?”

Before Renie could respond, a car pulled into the cul-de-sac. “The cops, I hope,” Judith murmured, standing up to see where the vehicle was stopping. “It's another taxi,” she said, “pulling up in front of Herself's. I wonder if Vivian and Billy are doing a bunk.”

“I'm not going to guess why, since you won't tell me,” Renie snapped, but crept closer to the sidewalk. Judith, who could only see the lighted sign on top of the cab, also moved away from the tree. Renie gestured at her. “Somebody's getting out—a man and a woman.”

Keeping a low profile, Judith reached the fence where Renie lurked by a jasmine shrub that grew on a wooden trellis. “Frankie and Marva Lou,” Judith whispered.

“Obviously recovered from being poisoned,” Renie noted as the couple headed for Vivian's porch, and the taxi drove away.

“It all fits,” Judith said, more to herself than to Renie.

“I heard that,” her cousin snapped. “If you'd tell me—” She shut up as Judith waved her into silence before scurrying back to the fence between the two houses. Very faintly, the cousins heard the chimes play “How Dry I Am.” Twice. And a third time. Then there was pounding on the door, followed by Frankie bellowing to let them in.

Judith and Renie could see Frankie and Marva Lou, but not who finally opened the door.

“Stop playing games,” Marva Lou snarled.

“No, no!” The voice belonged to Adelita. “It is wrong for you to—”

The Busses entered, slamming the door behind them.

“Where are those tecs?” Judith asked impatiently. It was starting to rain harder, and a breeze was blowing up from the bay. “Why haven't I heard from Darnell and Mercedes? And where is Terri?”

“Stop fussing,” Renie told her cousin, even as the din from inside the house grew more raucous. “Wow! They're really going at it in there!”

Judith cringed as she heard mostly unintelligible sounds from people hurling insults and threats. “Who's on whose side?” she wondered out loud. “Frankie and Marva Lou are the visitors, so Vivian and Billy are the home team. Where does Adelita fit in all this?”

“I thought you knew all the answers,” Renie retorted sarcastically.

“Not
all
,” Judith said candidly. “In fact, I just thought of something that may or may not fit. The four-way stop east of the center where Billy got cited for running the arterial is by those motels, right?

“Yes. Some kind of residence hotel on one corner, a gas station and a convenience store on another, and two motels on the south side of the east-west street. A Slumber Coach and the Travel Inn.” Renie winced at the sound of glass breaking inside the Busses' house. “Hey, hasn't Terri been staying at the Travel Inn?”

“Exactly,” Judith said. “I wonder why Billy was in the vicinity. It seems strange that—” She gave a start as the garden gate creaked. Turning slightly, she saw a hooded figure moving stealthily toward their stakeout. “Don't look, don't move, don't breathe,” Judith whispered. “I think we have a problem.”

F
rozen in place under the plum tree, Judith sensed rather than saw the hooded outline emerging through the gloom. Renie, however, had ignored her cousin's advice. “Yikes!” she cried, swiveling around to peer at the ominous figure. “It's the Grim Reaper!”

An exasperated sigh emerged from the dark hood. “What's going on in there?” Arlene Rankers demanded, gesturing at Vivian's house. “It sounds like a free-for-all. Is crockery being broken? Or furniture?” She crouched by the cousins. “Should we call the police?”

Brushing moisture from her face, Judith sank back against the plum tree. “You scared us,” she said, catching her breath and seeing that Arlene was wearing a rain poncho. “I already called. The detectives investigating the case should be arriving any moment.”

“Those two!” Arlene's voice dripped with disdain. “They were so rude to me, especially the young woman. I was sure they were going to haul me off to jail before I could finish folding the laundry.”

Judith winced at the sound of shattering glass. “That bunch
is going to be hauled off in ambulances if they don't stop fighting.”

She'd barely finished speaking when Billy and Adelita raced out of the house, down the steps, and jumped into the Aston Martin. With a squeal of tires on wet pavement, the sports car headed out of the cul-de-sac and toward Heraldsgate Avenue. Billy had been carrying what looked like a half rack of beer.

“That figures,” Judith murmured.

“What?” Arlene's tone was sharp. “You mean…those two are…what?”

“Having an affair,” Judith said.

“Really,” Arlene said disapprovingly, “the way younger people carry on!” She shook her head and sighed. “It's s-o-o-o romantic.” Briefly, her face looked wistful, but turned serious as she pointed to the street. “Where's that purple car? It was here a few minutes ago.”

“Purple?” Judith echoed. “Or lavender?”

“Lavender, yes.” Arlene nodded several times. “Very pretty.”

“Vivian's Bentley arrived from Florida.” Judith slowly straightened up. The departure of Billy and Adelita seemed to have created a lull in the conflict. Voices had been lowered, and household goods were no longer being destroyed. Judith glimpsed someone in her driveway. “It's Caitlin,” she said, and moved away from the plum tree. “I'd better stop her. She must have heard the commotion, too.”

“Judith?” Caitlin stopped by the Ericson property. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” Judith said softly. “Billy and Adelita just took off in his car. Your mother's inside with the other Busses.”

Caitlin reached Vivian's walkway. “Is Mom okay? I heard an awful row when I started outside to see your mother. Then a car roared off.”

“You heard enough,” Judith said, meeting Caitlin in front of Vivian's house. “It's calmed down in the last few minutes.”

“I'd better go in,” Caitlin said, her green eyes straying anxiously to Herself's front door.

“It might be better if you waited until—” Judith swerved around as she heard the sound of yet another car's arrival. “Finally,” she said with a sigh of relief. “The tecs.”

Caitlin looked puzzled. “The…? Oh, you mean the detectives.” She smiled slightly. “I've been away from Dad for so long that I've forgotten cop lingo.”

The white sedan was headed for Hillside Manor, but apparently the detectives spotted Judith and Caitlin. They stopped halfway through the cul-de-sac. Griffin, who was driving, rolled down the window.

“Mrs. Flynn? What's going on?”

“For openers, somebody's getting away with murder,” Judith responded. “Meanwhile, there's been an awful row at Mrs. Buss's house. Can we talk somewhere besides on the sidewalk?”

Griffin maneuvered the car to the curb in front of the Ericsons' SUV. She got out first, her no-nonsense manner apparent as she strode briskly toward Vivian's house. Almquist took his time, long legs appearing before the rest of him emerged. Renie and Arlene had come from Mrs. Swanson's garden, joining Judith and Caitlin on the sidewalk.

Griffin stood rigidly by Vivian's walkway. “I don't hear anything.”

Judith nodded. “The ruckus stopped when Billy Buss and Adelita Vasquez took off. Mrs. Buss—Vivian—is inside with Frankie and Marva Lou Buss. Obviously, they've been released from the hospital.”

Griffin beckoned to Almquist. “Move it. We're going in.”

“You first,” Almquist said, rubbing his left calf. “I got a leg cramp.”

“Oh, for—!” Griffin swallowed the rest of her invective. “Fine. Why don't you go back to the car and order a pizza?”

“Good idea,” Almquist said cheerfully.

“I'm not serious,” Griffin retorted. “Get over here. Follow procedure. Why did I ever—” Again, she clamped her mouth shut.

Caitlin stepped up to the female detective. “Let me go in first. I'm Mrs. Buss's daughter.”

Griffin expelled an exasperated sigh. “I don't care if your mother's the Queen of Sheba. We follow procedure. Move back, please.”

Reluctantly, Caitlin obeyed. Almquist ambled to the walkway. “Should we draw our weapons?” he asked in a doubtful voice.

“Yes,” his partner snapped. “This may be a hostile situation. Don't you know the rules?”

“Oh, sure,” he replied, “but I don't know what's happening.”

Griffin uttered a snarl-like sound. Taking out her service automatic, she went up the porch stairs to the front door. “Police!” she shouted. “Open up!”

Watching with obvious anxiety, Caitlin grabbed Judith's arm. “Please—isn't there some way I could go in? I…feel so guilty!”

“Of what?” Judith asked in alarm.

The younger woman let go of Judith and hung her head. “Of betrayal. Of being disloyal to my mother. You can't understand.”

Before Judith could respond, the front door opened. “Put that gun down,” Marva Lou Buss commanded. “We have a truce.”

Holding weapons aloft, the detectives went inside. The door closed, but Caitlin rushed up to the porch, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

“That's it,” Judith muttered. “I'm going in, too.”

“Oh, crap!” Renie exclaimed. “I'll have to go with you.”

“Not without me,” Arlene declared, following Renie, who was already behind Judith as she went up to the door.

The scene in the living room was deceptively calm. Vivian lay limply on the sofa, gold sandals peeking from under a scarlet, green, and black caftan. Frankie Buss sat in an armchair, looking rumpled and weary. Marva Lou stood in front of the TV, her pallor contrasting with red blotches on each cheek. Evidence of a battle was obvious. The television screen had been shattered, a chair was upended, and a small statue of the Venus de Milo had more than her arms missing. Two lamps had been toppled, a broken beer bottle's contents stained the carpet, and all three of the alleged participants looked spent.

“Now what?” Vivian muttered, narrowing her eyes at the newcomers. “Where's the icebag?” She squinted at the gaudy Murano chandelier, the room's only illumination still in working condition. “Where are my sunglasses? I can't stand that glare!”

Griffin returned her handgun to its holster. “Mrs. Buss,” she said to Vivian, “we understand a domestic disturbance has occurred here.”

Marva Lou stepped forward, rubbing her upper arm. “A family fracas, that's all. We're fine now.”

Vivian darted a malicious glance at her sister-in-law. “Speak for yourself, you viper.”

“Now, now,” Frankie began, but was interrupted by Caitlin.

“I'll get you an icebag,” she said to her mother, whose right eye was red and swollen. “Maybe I can find your sunglasses.”

“Don't bother,” Vivian snapped, groping under her backside. “I'm sitting on them. They're broken.” She glared at Marva Lou. “You owe me four hundred dollars. They're top of the line.”

“I
owe
you
?” Marva Lou sneered as Caitlin went to the kitchen. “Ha!”

Griffin appeared impatient. “Are you people going to act like civilized human beings? If you can't, we're done here.”

“They're fine,” Almquist said. “Let's go.”

“Wait.” Judith stood by the front door, willing to bar it if the detectives tried to leave. “You're not done. You've only started.”

Griffin swerved to stare at Judith. “What are you talking about?”

“I haven't told you what may be a key to solving this case,” Judith said. “I'm sure the rest of these folks would also like to hear it.”

“Oh, for—!” Fiercely, Griffin shook her head. “This isn't amateur night. You're wasting our time.”

“No, I'm not,” Judith insisted. “For starters, tell me about Aileen Rosenthal, the woman who claimed the dead body.”

“I talked to her on the phone,” Griffin replied, looking defensive. “His daughter knew about his visit here, but she was upset because he didn't return when he said he would. She insisted that was unlike him, so she contacted the local police. The vic's description fit her father. She came up here, IDed him, and asked to claim the body for burial.”

Judith cocked her head to one side. “And?”

“There was some confusion at the morgue after Ms. Rosenthal arrived. Since cause of death had been determined, she was allowed to take the body.” Griffin shrugged. “That's it.”

“Not quite,” Judith countered.

“Oh, shut up!” Vivian cried, taking the icebag from Caitlin, who had returned to the living room. “You're the biggest meddler I've ever met! As for your awful neighbor,” she went on, pointing to Arlene, “get her out of here—and take your cousin Weenie with you.”

Judith shot Vivian a severe look. “I'm not finished.”

Marva Lou's expression was malicious. “I like this. I want to hear it. Go ahead, Mrs. Flynn.”

Judith turned back to Griffin. “Did you ask Ms. Rosenthal if she had any idea who might have killed her father, or what he was doing at the Buss's house?”

“Of course,” Griffin responded. “She insisted he had no known enemies. As for coming to this house, his daughter figured he'd tagged along with some old buddies he'd known when he lived here several years ago. Ms. Rosenthal added that her father had worked for the city and still kept in touch with some of his former colleagues.”

Judith persisted. “Such as who?”

“She didn't know. Once she got back to Culver City, she thought she might find some information about his cronies. An address or phone book, maybe. She promised to let us know.”

“How,” Judith asked, “did she explain her father having someone else's wallet in his possession?”

Griffin made an impatient gesture. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“Bear with me,” Judith urged. “I have valid reasons.”

“It's fascinating,” Marva Lou put in. “Just like watching TV.”

Griffin gave the other woman a withering look. “This is real. We don't promise happy endings.”

“Speak for yourself,” Frankie murmured.

Judith kept her eyes on Griffin. “Well? What about the wallet?”

The female detective took a deep breath. “Ms. Rosenthal guessed he'd found it somewhere. Her father often gambled in Vegas or Laughlin. The wallet was returned to Mr. Brooks in Henderson. There were thirty or forty dollars in it. Mr. Brooks said that was about what he thought he had left when he couldn't find his wallet at New York, New York.”

Judith frowned. “At…you mean the casino in Vegas?”

“Of course.” Griffin looked peeved.

Vivian, who was holding the icebag to her eye, made a clumsy effort to stand up. “I wish you'd all leave.
Now
. I must rest.”

“Good idea,” Almquist said. “I could use some shut-eye, too.”

Judith ignored him. “So,” she said to Griffin, “you got no leads out of this Ms. Rosenthal, nor did you ever sit down and talk to her.”

“It hardly seemed necessary,” Griffin asserted. “She was grief-stricken, she'd been twelve hundred miles away when her father was murdered, and she couldn't think why he'd been killed. We'll follow up when she's had time to go through her father's personal effects.”

Vivian had managed to stagger over to Judith. “Do I have to ask these cops to throw you and those two other bitches out of my house?”

“Yes,” Renie said. “I'd kind of like that.”

“I wouldn't,” Arlene declared. “I've never been thrown out of anybody's house in my life, and I'm not starting now. It's—it's unneighborly, that's what it is.”

Judith hadn't budged from her stance by the front door. She turned suddenly as a noise outside caught her attention. The doorknob was moving. With a sense of anticipation, she stepped aside.

Terri walked across the threshold but froze in place as she saw the gathering in the living room and the wreckage that was evidence of a brawl. “Oh! What's all this?”

“They're just leaving,” Vivian said, bracing herself on the upended chair. “Fix yourself a drink. Get one for me.” Her good eye blinked several times. “Wait—why are you here? I thought you'd gone away.”

“Not yet,” Terri replied, leaving the door open. “Come on in,” she said to someone on the porch. “Mom's having a party.”

To Judith's surprise, Mandrake Stokes entered, smiled, and removed his hat. What amazed her even more was the couple that followed him into the living room. An almost unrecognizable
Wilbur and Patrice Griggs arrived, wearing Armani suits and smug expressions.

“Hello, Mrs. Flynn,” Mrs. Griggs said to Judith. “Hello, Mrs. Flynn,” she said to Vivian. “Two Mrs. Flynns in the same room? Or only one?” Her gaze fastened on Vivian.

“Oh, no!
No!
” Vivian cried, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.