Vanished into Plein Air

by Paula Darnell

  “Yeah?”

  “It's Amanda Trent. I have news.”

  “I have news for you, too,” he said smugly. “That nurse Samantha—her last name is—”

  “Applegate,” we both said at the same time.

  “She's Jill's daughter,” I told him. “Jill's still living in Sedona. She goes by the name Beth Applegate.”

  “Well, Ms. Snoop, I guess you're proud of yourself,” he said sarcastically.

  “Give me a break. You wanted to know, didn't you?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Good work,” he said grudgingly.

  “Thanks.” I never thought I'd hear anything close to a compliment from him. “Now do you think you can find out whether or not she's Ulysses's daughter? I know she won't be back on duty until Friday, but you could talk to her then.”

  “I'll talk to her, all right.”

  “Talk, not interrogate.”

  “I know what I'm doing. Count on it.” With that, he hung up. I suppose I shouldn't have impugned his questioning tactics, but having been on the receiving end of them myself a couple if times, I knew how abrasive he could be. The old saying “catch more flies with honey than with vinegar” wasn't something the lieutenant practiced usually, but if he could bring himself to play up the helpless patient persona, rather than the rude detective, I had a feeling he'd get a lot farther.

  Since there was little traffic and I didn't encounter another motor home on my drive back to Lonesome Valley, I arrived home with hours to spare before my date with Brian.

  After pacifying my pets, who made a big fuss over me when I came in the door, I spent a few hours in the studio, working on my painting of Toby, the bloodhound with the soulful big brown eyes. While I worked, I alternately thought of my dress purchase and worried that I shouldn't have splurged on it and thought about the ramifications of my discovery that Jill lived nearby and that Samantha, her daughter, worked at Lonesome Valley Hospital, where Ulysses had been murdered. I kept cautioning myself that such a coincidence did not mean that Samantha had strangled Ulysses. There was still a lot to learn about her. On the other hand, she was certainly shaping up as a prime suspect, as far as I was concerned.

  After a while, it was time to get ready for my dinner date. I fussed with my hair and applied more makeup than I usually wore, but I didn't do a very good job of it. My eyeliner looked squiggly, and my mascara had clumped on my lashes, so I had to start over. As I painstakingly applied my eye makeup for the second time, Laddie sat in the bathroom doorway, his head cocked to one side, watching my progress. He obviously sensed that something was up, and even Mona Lisa paid attention. When I slipped on my new maxi dress, she swished around my ankles, meowing loudly. I was about to pick her up when the doorbell rang and she scurried away to hide under the bed.

  “Here goes nothing,” I told Laddie, as he waited eagerly at the front door for me to open it. I had to admit I felt a little bit nervous, even though I kept telling myself not to be ridiculous, but the fact was I hadn't been on a date with anyone except Ned in decades.

  I opened the door, and Laddie rushed forward before I could slow him down. Luckily, Brian didn't seem to mind, and he scratched my friendly retriever behind the ears. When he looked up, he became tongue-tied and stared at me for what seemed like a very long time, although it was probably only a few seconds.

  “You look so beautiful this evening,” he said, and then thought twice about his declaration. “I mean you always look beautiful, but you look especially beautiful in that dress.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping to put the poor man out of his misery. He'd turned red as he spoke. “And you look very handsome yourself.” I wasn't fibbing. In his sports coat and slacks, Brian cut a rather dashing figure, but he turned even redder at my comment.

  I grabbed my small silver clutch, told Laddie to be a good boy, and we were off.

  “I made a reservation at Mon Ami at the resort. I hope that's all right,” he said, as soon as we were in his car.

  “Of course. That sounds good.” I'd never ventured there on my own, since it was the most expensive restaurant in town.

  Brian didn't say much on the drive to the resort. I made small talk, and he responded mostly with nods and short comments. He hadn't been at all reticent when we'd walked Laddie the evening before, but he was clearly ill at ease, and my attempts to draw him out hadn't worked too well so far. If this kept up during dinner, it was going to be a very long evening.

  When Brian pulled up under the resort's portico, the designated drop-off for valet parking, a young man in a resort uniform immediately opened my door for me while Brian took a receipt from another valet.

  “It's this way,” he said, as he steered me to the right, down a long hallway and across a courtyard. “Shortcut,” he grinned as we left the courtyard and came out next to the restaurant.

  “This place is so huge,” I said. “I only know my way around the mall.”

  “You've been here before?”

  “A few times to the art gallery and frame shop and once my son and I had lunch at Cabo.” I didn't mention the time Brooks had urgently called me to deliver Olivia's ransom and I'd gone to Ulysses's suite to pick it up.

  I noticed that only half the tables were occupied, as the maître'd escorted us to our table and pulled a chair out to seat me. Seconds later, our server appeared with a wine list.

  I was about to look at it when I noticed Brooks and Olivia tucked away at a quiet table in the corner.

  “Would you please excuse me for a minute, Brian? That lady over there lost her husband a few days ago, and I'd like to give her my condolences.”

  “Sure,” he said, standing as I got up.

  Brooks and Olivia looked up in surprise as I appeared at their table.

  “Olivia, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

  “Thank you, Amanda. It's been very difficult having to stay here while the police sort things out. I should be back in Santa Fe, making arrangements for Ulysses's memorial service and settling his estate, but, instead, I'm stuck here.”

  Brooks frowned, and Olivia immediately backtracked.

  “I don't mean to disparage your hospitality, Brooks. You've been more than generous, allowing me to stay here, and you did so much for Ulysses.” Her voice broke, and a tear trickled down her cheek, but she swiped it away. “There's so much to do.”

  “I'm sure it won't be long. I can check with the coroner's office and Sergeant Martinez again in the morning, if you'd like,” Brooks offered.

  “I should get back,” I murmured, sensing my timing wasn't ideal. “Again, I'm very sorry for your loss.”

  Although the encounter had been awkward, I'd felt the need to convey my condolences personally, because the opportunity had presented itself, especially since I hadn't yet sent Olivia a sympathy card; in fact, I hadn't purchased one yet.

  When I returned to our table, Brian smiled at me, stood up, and pulled my chair out for me. As dinner progressed, Brian relaxed, and we had a pleasant conversation over excellent food. He told me some funny stories about incidents that had happened on the oil rig, and I began to get more of a sense of the man. When he finally confessed that this was his first date in years and I countered that it was my first in decades, we had a good laugh together.

  It wasn't until Brian walked me to the front door at the end of the evening that things turned awkward again.

  “Thank you for a lovely evening,” I said.

  Brian moved closer, leaning toward me.

  “Hey, neighbors!”

  Chapter 35

  Dennis's hearty greeting startled both of us, and Brian jerked back, looking around for Dennis. He was coming up the walk, carrying a metal case.

  “I was on my way over to show you my new socket wrench set,” Dennis told Brian. “I got a great deal on it.”

  “I'll leave you two to it,” I said, unlocking my front door. I could hear Mona Lisa yowling and Laddie, who seldom barked, emitted a deep “woof.” “It sounds as though my furry fri
ends are getting restless.” I smiled and thanked Brian again before easing the door closed.

  I'd have been willing to bet Brian had been leaning in for a kiss when Dennis interrupted us, and maybe it was just as well he had shown up when he had. I still didn't know whether I was ready for a man in my life. Unlike Chip, who took romance lightly, Brian was the serious type, or, at least, I thought he was, and I didn't want to lead him on, but I didn't want to rule him out, either. Perhaps I was the one who was overthinking the situation, though. We'd had a lovely evening, once Brian had gotten over his nervousness.

  Laddie whined softly and looked up at me.

  “Don't worry, Laddie,” I said, giving him a hug. “You're my best boy.”

  He snuggled closer for another cuddle and succeeded in getting it before Mona Lisa jumped down from her kitty tree to join us, pouncing on my feet and ignoring Laddie, who backed up to make room for her.

  As I hung the aubergine dress in my tiny closet, pushing other clothes aside so that the pricey dress wouldn't be pinned between them, I decided my purchase had been worth it, but I didn't plan on more splurges anytime soon.

  After I went to bed, I mentally reviewed my to-do list for the next day. I'd get up early and take Laddie for a walk before my scheduled half-day at the Roadrunner began at nine. After that, I'd have the rest of the day free to paint. Before I fell asleep, I wondered whether Lieutenant Belmont would have any success finding out whether Samantha was Ulysses's daughter. Now that I'd learned that Samantha was Jill's daughter, I figured a public records search for her birth certificate was in order, but Sergeant Martinez might have better luck on that score than I would. My last thought before I drifted off to sleep was that Dave Martinez hadn't returned my phone call. I added contacting him to my unwritten to-do list and promptly fell asleep.

  The following morning, I was waiting for a keyholder to come along and open the door to the Roadrunner when a car slid into one of the parking spaces directly in front of the gallery. The driver jumped out, and I could see that it was Pamela's husband Rich. He went around the car to the other side, opened the passenger door for Pamela, and offered her his arm when she got out. She clung to him, as I'd seen her do a couple of other times, and didn't let go until she had to get the key out of her purse. Rich took it, unlocked the door, and held it open for us.

  “I hope you weren't waiting too long,” Pamela said.

  “Just a few minutes.”

  “Tiffany called me at home just before we left. She's sick today and won't be coming in this morning, so it will be just the two of us.”

  “Thursday mornings aren't usually too busy.”

  “That's what I thought, too. I didn't think I needed to call someone else in,” Pamela said, turning on the lights.

  “Ladies, why don't I run next door and get you some coffee while you're getting set up,” Rich volunteered.

  “That would be wonderful,” Pamela agreed. “Amanda, what would you like?”

  After I decided on a mocha and Pamela said she'd have the same, Rich left, whistling on his way.

  “He seems happy,” I commented.

  “You mean happier than the last time you saw him here?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Things have settled down, but I'm not sure it's over yet. He hasn't been raging, but he's acting possessive. I can hardly go outside to get a breath of fresh air by myself. It's a big change from a few months ago when he was seldom home, and I have to admit I'm flattered that he's paying so much attention to me again, but sometimes it's a bit much. And, of course, I don't dare mention Chip's name or call him about Roadrunner business for fear that Rich will object. It's probably just as well Chip's not using the apartment upstairs anymore and has resigned from the board. Otherwise, I might never be able to set foot in the Roadrunner again.”

  By the time Rich returned with our mochas and a regular cup of coffee for himself, we'd prepared the register, dusted the gallery, and cleaned the glass on the jewelry counter.

  “Thank you for the mocha, Rich,” I said. “Why don't you and Pamela take yours back to the office? I'll keep an eye on things here.”

  “We'll do that,” Pamela said, “but be sure to call me if you need help.”

  I had time to take only a couple of sips of my chocolatey drink before our first prospective customer of the day appeared. She spent quite a while wandering around, looking at the artwork, and kept me busy answering her questions, but she left without making a purchase.

  I returned to my now-cold mocha and slowly sipped my drink. I heard a muffled tone and scrambled to retrieve my phone from my purse, which I'd deposited in the drawer under the cash register when I'd come in earlier. I located it just in time to take the call.

  “Hello.”

  “Told you so.”

  Chapter 36

  “What? Who is this?” I asked.

  “It's Bill Belmont. Our suspect is in custody as we speak.” he said smugly.

  “Samantha?”

  “You got it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Dave Martinez did some records checking and located Samantha's birth certificate. Her mother's name is listed as Jill Elizabeth Durand.”

  “And her father's name?”

  “Ulysses Durand.”

  “But does she know who her father is?”

  “No idea, but Dave intends to find out.”

  “You say she's in custody?”

  “I may have exaggerated. Dave hasn't arrested her yet, but he's taken her in for questioning.”

  “How did you find out? I thought he wasn't going to discuss the case with you.”

  “I have my ways. Don't tell Dawn, though, or Dave and I will both be in the doghouse.”

  “Wow! It's awful to think Ulysses's own daughter may have murdered him in his hospital bed.”

  “Gotta go. The vampire's here to take my blood.” He hung up.

  Perhaps I'd been right about Samantha, but it didn't make me feel good that a daughter—and a nurse, to boot—could do such a terrible thing. I called Belle immediately to let her know what the lieutenant had told me. I knew that part of the reason he'd been willing to share the information was to let me know that the police were perfectly capable of handling the investigation. Subtext: they didn't need my help to do it.

  When I'd finished my call to Belle, I dropped my phone back into my bag and stooped to put my purse back under the counter. When I stood up, I was surprised to see Brooks standing near the jewelry counter. I hadn't heard anyone come in the door, and I'd had my back turned while I'd talked to Belle. Usually, I kept an eagle eye on the door so that I could greet customers the second they came in, but I'd been so engrossed in my conversation with Belle that I hadn't been paying attention.

  “I didn't mean to startle you, Amanda,” Brooks began, “but I confess I overheard that the police may have found who killed Ulysses.”

  “It's possible. I understand they're questioning her now. She's a nurse at the hospital here.”

  “Why would a nurse do such a thing? Ulysses was getting better. It can't have been a mercy killing.”

  “Nobody knows for sure, but she's Ulysses's daughter. Goes by the name of Samantha Applegate. It's possible Ulysses may not have known it, either. His first wife must have been pregnant when she left him, but she may not have told him. That's all speculation, by the way.”

  “Unbelievable!” he said, hoisting a large shopping bag and placing it on the counter next to the cash register. “And here's something else that's unbelievable. I need you to tell me if you recognize this.” He tipped the shopping bag on its side, reached in, and pulled out a gym bag with the Lonesome Valley Resort logo on its side.

  “Yes, it's like the one you gave me to deliver the ransom money, but aren't all the bags alike?”

  He flipped one of the handles down so that we could examine it. “Anything?” he prodded.

  “Well, yes: that jagged white scuff mark there, on the handle. That's the same bag! Where did
you get it?”

  “I found it stuffed in the back of Gabrielle's closet. She used to go to the gym at the resort all the time, so, at first, I didn't think anything of it, but then I took a second look. I remembered the mark on the handle. My own wife's a kidnapper!”

  “Why would she do something like that?”

  “Money. Why else? I bet she was already planning to divorce me, and she wanted a stake before she went back to New York. She signed a pre-nup when we got married, so she knew she wouldn't get much from me.”

  “She must have had help, Brooks. She couldn't possibly have pulled it off alone. Remember the call Ulysses got from the kidnapper at the art auction? Gabrielle was right there in the room, and she wasn't on the phone at the time, but she had obviously already contacted her accomplice, or our caller wouldn't have known where we were or who you were with.”

  “You might be right. It could be that golf instructor at the resort that she's been flirting with. He's so infatuated with her he'd probably do anything she asked. I'm going to find out right now.”

  “Brooks, no. Let the police handle it. You are planning to go to the police, aren't you?”

  “Yes, I was on my way to the station, but I wanted to make sure you recognized the bag, too. I suppose you're right,” he said with a sigh, “but I'm going to give them his name. They can check him out.”

  The rest of the morning passed slowly. We had only a handful of visitors to the gallery, and we didn't sell a single thing.

  “I hope it picks up this afternoon,” I told Pamela before I left. “It's a good thing you didn't call anyone in to substitute for Tiffany.”

  “I'm sure it will liven up tomorrow, if not today,” Pamela said confidently. “It always does.”

  Pamela was right, of course. Weekends were the busiest time for all the businesses that lined Lonesome Valley's Main Street.