“No,” Mother said. “You must have it. It’s got all my things in it.”
“Ma’am,” the nurse began, and I could tell she had experience dealing with obnoxious old ladies.
“Could we, perhaps, speak with Dr. Wilson?” I put on my sweetest smile.
“Mmm,” she said, clearly unsure. Bingo. She didn’t know how to react to someone nice. And young. “Let me ask.” She picked up the phone, and turned her back to us. I could hear her murmurs, and in a few moments she turned back to us. “The doctor said he will see you.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, with another smile. My mother just looked her usual dour self.
“I’ll be right around,” she said. Moments later the door to the inner sanctum clicked, and she pushed it open. “Right this way, please.”
We followed her back through the now-familiar halls. We paused at Dr. Wilson’s door while she knocked. I wondered where Jeanine Pryor had gotten to. Nowhere in the vicinity, anyway. Perhaps she was dealing with the crotchety new patient. Or maybe it was her day off.
Mother pushed past the nurse when she opened the door. I, of course, followed right behind. But, I shot a ‘sorry’ expression at the nurse. I’m sure hers meant ‘I’m used to it.’
“Mrs. Murphy!” Dr. Wilson stood abruptly, and indicated the chairs across from him. “Would you like to sit? But no, you won’t be staying that long, will you?”
“I believe I’ve left my purse,” Mother said.
He looked pointedly at the monstrosity she bore in her two hands, held like a shield in battle.
“No, no,” she said irritably. “My other one.”
“It would help if we knew what it looked like,” he said. He turned his gaze on me. “Is this usual?”
I nodded. Mother said, “It’s gray. About this same size.” It’s like she suddenly believed she’d really left a purse here, instead of using it as a ruse to get inside. But, without Jeanine Pryor here, we couldn’t accomplish much. I wanted to see them together. See if they acted any less guilty than they had in front of the coffee shop.
I was ready to go, but suddenly, Mother whipped out the receipt. “What, exactly,” she said, “is this?”
His skin paled, then grew bright red, then normalized. Kind of like a chameleon, but without the red, or white, background. “Oh, that,” he said. “That’s a receipt for a spa trip.”
“Yes?” Mother clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer.
“We had a giveaway,” he said. “For the staff.”
“Oh? And who won the trip?”
He looked uncomfortable as he said, “Nurse Pryor.”
“Of course,” Mother said. “If you should happen to come across that purse…”
“I’ll call you,” he said, as he stood. “Please, ladies.” He reached forward to take the ticket from Mother, but she dropped it into her bag and snapped it shut. He paused for a second, then walked us to the door, and ushered us into the hall. The harried nurse stood by the station across the hall. The doctor motioned to her. “Will you see them out?”
Chapter Thirteen
After my day, another trip to the Blue Gringo was in order. I got there early and ordered buffalo wings to go with my beer. I sat at the bar, but when a shadow darkened the door, I decided otherwise. Carrying my bottle and a red plastic basket of sloppy wings, I headed to the table Anthony Sanders had chosen. I recognized him from the other night. My sister had pointed him out. He’d been with Joe Gonzalez.
“Mind if I join you?”
He glanced up, did a double take, shook his head, and went back to nursing his beer. “Help yourself.” I couldn’t tell if he was glad for the company or could really care less. I thought I was better looking than that. Maybe I was coming to resemble my newfound identity.
“I’m…”
“Raymond.”
“Yep.” Sigh.
He looked up again, his eyes meeting mine. “I remember you. You went to school here, long time ago.”
“I did.” I popped a wing into my mouth, slid the meat off the bone with my teeth, and wiped my lips with a napkin. Not ladylike, maybe, but if you’re gonna play with the boys… nah, that’s just an excuse. I’ve always been rough and tumble.
“Get on with it,” he said, and shoved his beer arm's length across the table. “You wanna know about Tonya.”
I faux grimaced. “That was quick,” I said.
“I’m not one for foreplay.”
“Me neither.”
“So, what do you wanna know?” He kicked back in his chair.
“Just tell me about it.” I leaned back in my chair, too. I definitely need the cowboy boots, though. His had made a satisfying thunk. Mine? Nothing. Tennis shoes.
“We went up there,” he began. “Tonya. Me. Joe. There was a kegger, and someone brought some grass.” He smiled. “It was a good time. At first. Then Joe got in a fight with Tonya.”
“About what?”
“Don’t know. But she was pretty mad. She threatened to kill herself. Broke a bottle and said she’d take Joe out with her.”
“That was some kind of fight.” I took a swig. I’d never been in a fight like that before. Even with the exes.
“You don’t know Tonya,” he smiled again, but twisted it into a grimace. “Didn’t.”
“What happened then?”
He caught my eye. “It was late, but Bee’s was still open, so we went for a soda. We needed her to chill out, you know? She was creating a scene. It wasn’t so hard to get her into the car, ‘cause she was crying, and just sorta… got in.”
“Did she chill out?”
“Yeah. We thought so, ‘cause we went back to the party.”
Dumb kids, I thought, should have stayed home.
“Who else was at that party?”
“You know, everybody. Earl, Patsy, Tammy Lynn, Mac, Jeanine, Lonnie. Bunch of other kids.” He named off some others. Sounded like the whole class, and then some.
“Then what?”
“She started crying again, and Joe took her home. Said he’d be back for me later. But he came back on foot. He was…”
“Bloody?” I offered.
“Yeah.”
It was basically the same story I’d read in the paper. When they got to the crash she was missing. Pulled out of the river the next day. But nobody remembered Anthony being back at the party. Didn’t remember any of them coming back after they’d gone to Bee’s. The only thing anybody else remembered was Joe, and the blood, and Tonya going missing. They’d both gone to juvie, and then to prison.
“Why’d you get more time than Joe?”
Anthony laughed. “He was a good boy, that’s why. I got out. Then, went back twice more.”
❃ ❃ ❃
I thought about Joe and Anthony on the ride down to Truth or Consequences next morning. The Jeep ran like a charm, the bookstore down there had a good selection of books on eldercare, or so they said over the phone. But Anthony’s story still troubled me. Why had the kids gone back to the party? That struck me as just plain dumb. He also said that Tonya had threatened suicide. That wasn’t in the paper.
Come to think of it, it closely paralleled Tammy Lynn Wilson’s murder. Suicide was hinted at in both incidents. Maybe she knew something about Tonya’s death? But who would have cared if she did. It’d happened so long ago, and the perpetrators had gone to prison.
But what if it hadn’t happened that way? What if Mrs. Wilson had known the truth, and that truth had to be kept hidden? Maybe she’d been involved some way, maybe even killed Tonya, and paid hush money to Anthony, or Joe, or both, to keep quiet? I pondered that. Only Anthony was new to town, having recently got out of his third stint in prison. Could be him, I thought. I’d need to talk to Lonnie.
My thoughts kept me busy all the way to T or C, as we call Truth or Consequences. I stopped by the bookstore and picked up several likely books. Then I punched Spa Elegante at Hot Springs into the map in my phone, and headed on down the road.
I was surprised w
hen I pulled into the driveway. Hot Springs wasn’t any fly-by-night joint, nor was it a standard resort for the working class crowd. This place was first class, all the way. Giant scale flower pots, decorated Native style, lined the walk up to the towering front door. I left the Jeep with the valet, told him I only expected to be a few minutes.
As I approached, the doors opened by themselves. Inside, the marble floor gleamed, and voices echoed off the high ceilings. A massive staircase dropped down on the other side of the wide entry. It led to a patio filled with umbrella-clad tables and chairs, and onto an immaculate golf course.
I picked up my jaw, and turned left. A billionaire wife’s dream of a gift shop glistened. I spun back to the other side of the entry, and encountered a long, polished stone counter. “May I help you?” A bottle blonde, as glittering as the resort, smiled with perfect teeth.
“Sure,” I said. “I’m looking for Spa Elegante.” She pointed the way, and I entered the belly of the beast.
Upstairs, across hallways, down elevators, and past the swimming pool. Eventually, I found the place. A sign said ‘back in fifteen minutes.’
“My luck,” I breathed. But, luckily, the girl hadn’t yet left.
“Do you have an appointment?” She looked surprised to see me, and reached for the book under the desk.
“No,” I said. “I’m only trying to confirm something.”
She looked at me skeptically. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, rubbing her nose. “We don’t give out information about our patrons.”
“You misunderstand me,” I assured her. “I’m with… er… Raymond Marple Entertainment.” No one ever said I wasn’t quick on my feet.
I dragged out the receipt in my pocket. “I’m checking on this reservation.”
“Yes, sir.” Ouch. Did mother’s reach include T or C? “Ma’am,” she corrected. “It was, in fact, redeemed.”
“Great! Can you tell me the name of the redeemers? We’re under the impression that somebody other than our purchaser used this ticket.”
“It looks like it was used by…” she paused as her finger ran down the list of names. Old fashioned for a hotel like this. I’d expected a computer. But, then again, the tinkling Chinese music more than hinted at old-timey relaxation, and leaving the work-a-day, modern world behind. “Ah, here it is. A Warren Wilson and Jeanine Pryor.”
I nodded, smiled, and generally looked stupefied. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s as I expected.”
I spun about and walked quickly back the way I’d come.
“But,” she called after me. “Are they the right people?”
Chapter Fourteen
Lonnie and I sat with our feet over the edge of the fishing pier. The Rio has a relatively small man-made lake just south of town, not far from where the birdwatchers go down to the bosque. A sheriff never really has time off, but, since it was Saturday, he didn’t have to go into the office. Unless they needed him. I dipped my feet in the cool water, enjoying the wet sensation that the otherwise dry desert couldn’t provide. And I enjoyed sitting beside Lonnie, too. We were the only people on this side of the lake. Far in the distance I could see a couple of fishermen wading along the bank.
“Hey, Lon,” I said, suddenly. “What are you thinking about?”
“The last time we came down here,” he said. “Your dad brought us. Remember?”
“Yeah.” I hadn’t thought about that in a long time. I smiled. “I remember you tossed me in.”
“You got me back!”
We laughed, recalling the way I’d swam underwater, coming out the other side of the pier behind him. Lonnie thought I’d drowned, dove in to rescue me. Problem was, he didn’t know how to swim. So, I’d had to jump in and rescue him.
I began to giggle, and he joined in. Then, I laughed so hard at the memory I got the hiccups, and had to drink a full bottle of water to get rid of them.
“Those were the days,” he said at last.
“Yeah.”
“You ever think…” he began.
“No.” I shook my head. “I moved away, got married, got divorced. That’s just what happened.”
“For a writer, you don’t have much imagination, do you?”
“Nope.”
He laughed again, and pushed me in the water. “Hey!” I came up burbling. But, this time I didn’t swim under the pier. I didn’t think I could rescue him anymore. Instead, I dipped my head backwards in the water, and out again, so my hair slicked back out of my face. I tread water for a sec. “You coming in?”
“Nah.”
“Still can’t swim?”
“I can swim. But, what if I get a call?” He fingered the cell phone he’d set on the wooden pier.
That did it. I reached up, grabbed his hand, and yanked. He fell in with a splash. We laughed so hard it hurt. We were sixth graders all over again. Best friends. We climbed out, and sat dripping on the edge of the pier. Side by side. I hadn’t been this happy in years. Maybe not since the last time we sat right here. He stripped down to his skivvies, draping his wets over the pier to dry. I stared at his well-developed muscles. Nope, no longer a gangly kid. I licked my lips, then ducked my head, glad he hadn’t seen my momentary lust. He was just a friend, I reminded myself. After a second’s hesitation I followed suit, baring my bright pink with white polka dots matching undies and bra. From a distance they’d look just like a bikini. Heck, close up they looked like it. He whistled appreciatively, I giggled, then scooted to the edge of the pier and hung my feet in the water beside his. Again, we slowly paddled our feet, falling into a quiet rhythm.
That’s how it was with him. Comfortable. And we’d fallen right back into our friendship, as if we’d never been apart.
I swirled a toe in the water. “Hey, Lon?”
“Hmm?”
“You know how I went down to T or C to get those books about elder care?”
“Yeah?” He turned to look at me, obviously hearing the hesitance in my voice. So, we weren’t totally comfortable together. Anything that had to do with Mother and her darned investigation made me feel… well… out of depth.
I blew out a deep breath, and started at the beginning, like I’d encouraged Anthony to do. “Okay,” I said. “I found a receipt and a ticket in Mother’s stuff. We figured out it was for a place down in T or C. A fancy resort. It was for spa treatment, and included an overnight.”
“Okay?” That’s what I liked about him. He was spare with words, and didn’t get freaked out.
“When I went down there, I went to the hotel. Dr. Wilson had told us it was a prize for a drawing, or something, for his staff. But, Jeanine Pryor supposedly won it.”
“And?”
“Well, she didn’t go down there alone. She went with Dr. Wilson.”
“Did you look at the date on the ticket?”
“Yes.”
He waited for my reply, slowly kicking his own feet back and forth. Echoing mine, but less… exuberant.
“Um,” I thought. “It was May 28.”
“The night of May 28?”
“Yeah.”
“And they stayed all night?”
“Yes,” I said. I rested my knee on the pier, and twisted to face him. “They were having an affair.”
“Maybe so,” he said. “But, they also have an alibi.”
“Huh?”
He laughed at the stunned expression I must have worn. He tweaked my nose like I was still eleven. “That’s the night of the murder, kiddo. So, we’re still stuck with Mac and Jennifer as our only suspects.”
I sat there staring at the water. Suddenly he planted his hand on my back and shoved again. “Aaah!” I screamed. Into the water I splashed. This time, though, I swam under the pier. I surfaced as quietly as I could. I’d get him! To think—twice inside an hour.
I could hear his footsteps as he padded across the pier. He paused, then walked back again. “Raymond?” He crossed again to the far side of the pier. “Ray?” He sounded more frantic this time. �
�I don’t believe you,” he said. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
I pressed my fingers across my mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Raymond,” he called again. He splashed cannonball fashion into the water.
I broke into laughter. But, he didn’t come up. Maybe he couldn’t swim as well as he made out? “Lonnie?”
No answer.
“Lonnie?” Now it was my turn to get frantic. Had he hit his head or something? Suddenly my waist was encircled and with a sloosh I got pulled underwater. I fought it, even though reason told me it was Lonnie. Then we surfaced. I took a huge breath, then pummeled him in the chest. He grabbed my wrists and laughed. I broke into a fit of giggles, and he pulled me against him, water swirling around us.
His arm went around me, the other waving back and forth treading water style. We slowly moved backward until our feet found the slick clay and mud of the lake floor. Another step and I leaned back against a post. A serious expression had entered his eyes, light reflecting in their tawny gold. I gazed into their depths, transfixed. My arms went around him as I started to slip in the mud. He tightened his grip on me, and his free hand rose to hold on to the post.
He hesitated only a second, then his mouth came down on mine in a crushing, demanding kiss. I met his demand with my own. The world swirled around me as I kept my eyes open, staring into his. Aren’t we supposed to close them? I always had before. But there was a sense of keen excitement I felt from defying the convention.
I closed my eyes, finally, as his kiss changed to smaller, rhythmic tastes, his tongue darting lightly along my parted lips. I ran my hands up and down his back feeling the ridges and depressions of his muscles. My fingers stopped to trace the edges of a long, jagged scar. A souvenir from his profession? My hands searched lower, toward his buttocks. His own followed suit, and gripping my rear, he pulled me tight to him.
And then his phone rang. The insistent buzzing echoed from the pier above our heads.
“That’s my office,” he murmured against my neck. I listened to the buzz buzz buzzzzzz tone he’d assigned to the Sheriff’s Department. I choked back a sigh of frustration.
It's Marple, Dear Page 9
