Violet Dawn

by Collins, Brandilyn

  Bailey closed her eyes, love and aching for her husband welling within her. “No. But I’m glad he came. You okay?”

  “Course I’m okay; I’m terrific. Hey, that’s some news about Edna San missing. What do you suppose happened?”

  Bailey drew a breath. It was so like John to make light of his illness. He just didn’t like people feeling sorry for him, including his own wife. Of all the people Bailey had ever known, John was the least likely to complain.

  “I don’t know,” she said, managing a smile, “but I can tell you there are a thousand ideas floating around town at the moment, all of which have been offered at my counter within the last couple hours.”

  “Well, you keep me informed if you hear anything. But I probably know more than you do at this point. Hank told tell me they’re done with the search at the San estate. You hear that?”

  “No. He must have found that out after he left here.”

  “Yeah. His wife called his cell phone as he was driving over.

  Janet had gotten the news from somebody at church — I don’t know who.”

  Bailey studied her glass cabinet of pastries, almost afraid to ask the obvious question. “What happened? With the search, I mean.”

  John exhaled into the phone. “Chief Edwards called for it. He came in from his day off. But they found big, fat nothing. No Edna, no sign of her.”

  Lord, what could have happened to her? Bailey fingered her necklace. “What are they going to do next?”

  “Organize a bigger search. They’re asking for volunteers. Sure wish I could help. And they’re bringing in cadaver dogs.”

  Cadaver dogs. Bailey’s heart clutched. “Do they really think she’s dead? They must have found something to make them suspect that.”

  “I agree. But Janet didn’t know any details.”

  Bailey’s gaze cruised the café, gliding over S-Man and the other dozen or so customers. Ted pulled back from his computer and stretched his arms out wide, flexing his neck. He looked around, glaze-eyed, as if realizing with shock that he was in Java Joint, not some tower of Sauria, hiding from attacking Herians.

  “Oh, John.” Bailey’s voice was tight. “We’d better start praying hard for Edna.”

  “Well, I’m with you. But in all honesty, two thirds of the town might be praying otherwise. She’s not exactly adored around here.”

  Bailey shook her head. “But nobody would really wish her harm. Not here in Kanner Lake.”

  John chuckled. “Bailey, that’s what I love about you. Always thinking the best of everybody.”

  As she hung up the phone, John’s words reverberated through her. He was right; Edna was resented by so many people. Almost every local who’d come into Java Joint today had something against her, right up to the last three she’d served. Sam Beltz was married to the daughter of Wally Keller, whom Edna had sup posedly cheated out of his land. Henry Ikes had talked loudly of run-ins with Edna at the gas station. And Bart Goodlet had sneered more than once at Edna’s impatience when it came to receiving her mail.

  Truth was, if something had really happened to Edna San, if she was in fact dead, somebody had wished her more than a little harm. But a murder in Kanner Lake? Bailey could not allow herself to believe such a horrible thing had happened. Not here, in this neighborly town.

  A sole customer entered the shop, and Bailey pushed to her feet to serve him. Her glance brushed across the street — and fell upon a familiar figure. Vince Edwards. Walking down the sidewalk. He turned into Simple Pleasures.

  Bailey stilled. The chief of police — out shopping at a time like this?

  Couldn’t be. He had to be entering that store for a reason. And any current reason could only have to do with Edna San.

  Simple Pleasures . . . Paige’s nervousness.

  Bailey considered the connection, then tossed the ridiculous thought into oblivion.

  She looked to the customer, an automatic smile upon her face. “What can I get for you?” She heard the words from her own mouth, but her mind whirled elsewhere — on cadaver dogs and searches and Chief Edwards and Simple Pleasures.

  THIRTY-THREE

  A policeman walked into the store. A middle-aged officer Paige had seen around a few times. Dark hair cut short, almost military style. Not really tall, but possessing intense brown eyes and a granite-like chisel to his jaw. Tanned, strong-looking arms. Everything about him — and his uniform — screamed authority.

  Paige went cold. Her eyes cut to Sarah with silent pleading, but the woman was rearranging items, her back to the door.

  The policeman looked at Paige behind the counter and aimed straight for her. As he drew close, she could read his badge. Chief Edwards. Breath backed up in Paige’s throat.

  Chilly lake water hitting her ankles.

  “Good day, ladies.” He nodded to Paige, glanced at Sarah.

  Sarah turned around, surprise on her face, a glimmering bracelet hanging from her fingers. “Chief Edwards! I thought that sounded like you.” She tossed down the bracelet, hurried over to him. “What’s this I hear about Edna San? It must not be true or you’d be out looking for her.”

  He brought a hand to the back of his neck. “If you’ve heard she’s missing, I’m afraid that is true. But we’re keeping an eye out for her. I wouldn’t worry too much at this point.”

  His tone. Offhand. Light. Paige sensed it was the tone of a policeman who knew more than he wanted to tell.

  Sarah laid her fingers at the side of her mouth. “It’s hard to believe. She was in here just yesterday, do you know that? I could count on one hand the times Edna San has been in this store, and now to know she was here so shortly before she disappeared.”

  Shut up, Sarah, shut up!

  Paige could feel the weight of her own body against the floor, as if somebody had turned up the pull of gravity. She glanced at her hand and saw it gripping the counter. Willed it to relax.

  “Actually, that’s why I came in to see you ladies.” Chief Edwards turned to Paige. “I need to ask you a few questions about what happened yesterday when Ms. San was in the store.”

  “Oh, it was awful,” Sarah declared. “Edna came in here when there were other customers. I was in the back and Paige was helping someone. When I came out, Edna was loudly complaining about Paige’s ser vice. Then, can you believe it, the woman turned to me and practically demanded that I fire her.” Sarah’s cheeks reddened. “As if she’s got the right to tell me what to do in my own store.”

  Vince Edwards listened calmly, his gaze fixed on Sarah’s face. His weight was on one leg, both hands low on his hips, his expression inscrutable. But Paige could practically see the video camera recording from his policeman brain, registering every nuance, every detail.

  He tossed a glance at Paige, then back to Sarah. “What happened after that?”

  Sarah let out a disgusted tsk. “She turned on her heel and stalked out. Everybody in here just watched her go, totally stunned.” She waved her hand in the air. “Tell you what, I hope she never does come back in this store. Customers like her — I don’t care who she is — I can do without.”

  Chief Edwards tilted his head as if in agreement. “You say you were in the back room when most of this happened?”

  “Well, when it started, yes. But I sure heard the worst of it from Edna San.”

  “Okay.” The chief turned again to Paige. “I need to talk to you about this privately, if you don’t mind. It’s just routine. I’ve got to follow up on everyone who saw Ms. San or had any kind of interaction with her in the hours before she disappeared.”

  Somehow Paige managed a nod. Her body had gone numb.

  “Sure, go ahead.” Sarah again, almost smiling.

  The chief’s eyes remained on Paige. “It’s probably time for your lunch hour, isn’t it? I can take you somewhere, buy you a sandwich.”

  “I — yes, I’m supposed to have a break now.” Paige heard herself talking. Did the words sound normal? Innocent? “But I’m not very hungry.”r />
  “Then we’ll just get a soda or something. It won’t take long. Believe me, I’ve got far more important things to attend to. But I’d just like to get this out of the way.”

  Sarah frowned at Paige. “Go on, dear.” She whisked her fingers at Paige, as if urging a dawdling child. “He’s not going to bite. Chief Edwards is a very nice man. This is just part of his job.”

  Edna’s body splashing into the lake.

  Tension dug knuckles into Paige’s shoulders. She was too exhausted to think clearly; she would never get through this unscathed. What if she made some slip? “Do I need my purse?”

  He shrugged. “Up to you.”

  A moment later, clutching her purse, walking on wooden legs, Paige allowed herself to be escorted out of Simple Pleasures by the Kanner Lake chief of police.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Cell phone pressed to her ear, Leslie pulled open the door to her VW. Her entire body tingled with anticipation. “Jared, with all this stuff Chief Edwards just told me, you know he’s got to believe there’s been foul play, even if he won’t admit it. I mean, why else would Edna San’s guard dog have been killed?”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” Jared sounded as pumped as she was.

  Leslie slid into her car and tossed her steno pad and pen onto the passenger seat. “Listen, I’m going to run down more information, so I’ll be really busy for a while. I won’t be able to report in every minute, okay?”

  “Go for it, girl. Just don’t leave me hanging too long. Tell me everything you’re up to, and I can help gather additional info.”

  “Sure. Absolutely.” Leslie pushed sincerity into her tone, meaning not a word of it. She didn’t want to share any more of this limelight than absolutely necessary. She slammed her car door and started the engine, still holding the phone to her ear. Checking Lakeshore Road both ways, she pulled a U-turn and headed toward town.

  “Who’re you goin’ after first?” Jared asked.

  “I want to find out everything I can about what was discovered on the search. There’s more than Chief Edwards told me; I can feel it. I’ll get in Frank West’s face and see what he’ll spill. Then maybe I’ll tail the cops for a while, see where they go.”

  “What about talking to Edna San’s assistant?”

  Leslie braked for a curve. “No way to get to her right now.I can’t sneak on the property — there are No Trespassing signs everywhere and I don’t doubt they mean it. Besides, remember when I tried to interview her before, when Ms. San first moved here? Woman’s lips were as tight as a drum. I don’t think she’s the best use of my time right now.”

  “Understood. I’ll see what I can do with her.”

  “Sounds good. Talk to you soon as I can.”

  Leslie clicked off the line, inordinately pleased with herself.She’d handled the call perfectly. Leslie Brymes, reporter on her way to fame, had a few plans up her sleeve, and the last thing she’d do was give her boss a chance to shoot them down. Okay, so her plans were kind of wackball. But under the circumstances they could majorly rock. That adage about being safer to ask for forgiveness than permission was definitely in play here.

  And no doubt before the day was out, she’d be begging forgiveness. “Jared, I know I should have checked with you first. But I just got caught up in the moment, you know? And suddenly there I was, making the calls . . .”

  Downtown Kanner Lake was about ten minutes away. Leslie hadn’t a moment to lose. Quickly she dialed the number of the place she used to work as a high school student.

  “IGA.” Store owner Ralph Bednershack sounded irritated.

  “Mr. Bednershack, Leslie Brymes here. I need to speak to Marge O’Reilly.”

  “Yeah, you and everybody else. How’re we supposed to get any work done around here with the whole town calling?”

  “I’m not ‘the whole town,’ I’m Leslie, and this is my job. Come on now, be nice and let me talk to her.”

  “Okay, okay, hang on. Marge!” He seemed to holler right into Leslie’s ear. She could imagine the bulldog-faced old man turning every head in the store. “It’s Leslie Brymes, and you know what she’s gonna want!”

  Leslie clenched her teeth in frustration. “Do you have to inform the entire world?”

  “Yeah, well, I got her for you, didn’t I.” Ralph breathed into the phone like Mr. Snuffleupagus. “Okay. Here she is.”

  Leslie heard muffled noises, the sound of a receiver being passed.

  “Hi, this is Marge.”

  Her tone was guarded. Marge O’Reilly’s husband had been involved in hundreds of searches in Washington and Idaho, and no doubt she knew all about reporters. Leslie needed to win her over in a hurry.

  “Hi, Marge, it’s me.” Clipped and businesslike. “Have you heard from Lester yet? I just got through talking to Chief Edwards and he told me the search is done.”

  “Oh. No, I haven’t heard a word.”

  Drat.

  “Have you heard something?”

  Leslie thought fast. “Yes. They did not find Edna San. I can’t say the other details I know — they’ll come out soon enough. I just wanted you to know that your husband’s fine, the dog’s fine. But it looks like there’s going to be a bigger search. Volunteers are being called.”

  “Goodness.” Marge inhaled a quick breath. “Doesn’t sound good. Thanks for letting me know, Leslie.”

  “You’re welcome.” Leslie rushed on. “Will you take down my cell number and call me if you hear any further particulars? I promise to keep you informed too.” She held her breath.

  “Okay, fine.”

  Leslie rattled off her number. Marge repeated it as though writing it down. Still, Leslie had to wonder as she ended the call. Oh, well. Some leads panned out, some didn’t.

  On to the next — Frank West.

  Dynamite-looking cop that he was. Plus he had a sultry voice. As Leslie dialed the police station, she allowed herself a fleeting daydream of being up close and personal with the man. She sensed he was attracted to her, but he also seemed intimidated. Maybe he just didn’t want to mix it up with a reporter. Well, they’d just see about that.

  The phone rang once, twice. “Come on, Frank,” Leslie whispered. “Be there.”

  The voice she’d hoped to hear answered the phone. Yes! She plunged ahead.

  “Hi, Frank, it’s Leslie Brymes. I’ve been talking with Chief Edwards out at the San estate. From what he told me about calling out cadaver dogs and volunteers, I understand you all suspect foul play. How can I help? Can I call volunteers for you?”

  A pause. “I don’t think so, but thanks. I’m already getting that coordinated.”

  Aha. Note — already coordinated.

  “What time do you expect to have people back out there?

  Especially the cadaver dogs?”

  “Soon as possible. Probably in about another half hour.”

  Another new tidbit.

  “What about the timing of Ms. San’s disappearance? Sounds like it must have happened just before she stepped into that bath.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He sounded surprised that she knew this. “That’s what we surmise.”

  “Which would make it . . .” She pushed out a quick breath. “I can’t consult my notes while I’m driving. What time did Chief tell me she was supposed to take the bath?”

  “Nine o’clock. That’s her schedule every night.”

  Leslie grinned. “Oh yeah, nine o’clock. Right.”

  “Look, Leslie, I gotta go.” Frank’s tone turned brisk.

  “Okay, just a final question. Who’s your main suspect?”

  “I cannot divulge that information at this time.”

  Oh, great. Cop-speak.

  “So you do have one.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What about her son and daughter? Former husbands? You call them?”

  “Leslie, I need to go.”

  “Any of them have any idea who could have done this?”

  He sighed. “Huh-uh. No can do.
”

  “Come on, Frank.” Her voice softened. “Do it for me. You know I can call her son and daughter myself. Jared and I talked to them for our articles when Edna San first moved here, and they liked us.”

  “So go call them. I’m hanging up now.”

  “Frank — ”

  The line clicked in her ear.

  “Oooh!” She made a face at the phone and threw it on the passenger seat.

  After another mile Leslie hit town. She planned to pull over on the first block of Main Street, out of sight of Jared in the Times office. She’d need both hands free to write down the numbers from Information. Let’s see. She calculated the various contacts she should make. FOX News — home of her fave reporter, Milt Waking, so that one was a no-brainer. CNN. MSNBC. CNBC. That ought to do it.

  The rest of the media were going to come running soon anyway, national included. What she needed was to position herself as liaison for the all-news channels right up front. With any luck, one or two of them would interview her for information. Sure, reporters liked to break their own stories, but if she made herself indispensable, just maybe . . . She’d seen it a million times on the cable news networks — a local reporter with on-site information being filmed. All those perfectly coifed, slick television reporters from Spokane would salivate over the chance at a national segment. Leslie had to beat ’em out.

  Leslie turned right on Main Street and spotted a parking place just down from Java Joint. She pulled in and put the car in park, leaving the engine running and the air-conditioning blasting.

  Here goes, girl. Sound professional, not like your heart’s in your throat.

  The first part was easy — getting the numbers from Information. That done, she took a deep breath and forged ahead.

  Each network bounced her from person to person. It took her a while to reach Someone Who Mattered. And she never did speak with anyone whose name she recognized. Still, she persisted, and hung up from each phone call believing she’d made a contact. She told them enough details to hook them (which didn’t take much more than Edna San’s name and the word disappeared), then let them know she had exclusive information.