Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3)

by Sara M. Barton

  Chapter Ten --

  Larry hadn’t gotten back to me. I tried once more, but she still wasn’t answering her phone and now my concern was growing. By the time Max returned to the inn, a big brown paper sack in his arms, I was perplexed.

  “How’s everything?” he greeted me. I took the package he offered and set it down on the hall console table. “You don’t look happy.”

  “It’s been a wild afternoon.” I filled him in on the news about Edna.

  “Oh, she’s a tough nut to crack, like my Aunt Goldie. She goes right for the jugular, a regular pit bull in pumps, always looking for a way to cut you down to size. Larry’s going to hit the roof about this mess.”

  “I haven’t gotten through to her yet.”

  “What?”

  “I left her messages and sent her a couple of texts, but I couldn’t reach her. Edna had the same problem,” I told him. A funny look came over Max’s face. He fished his phone out of his pocket and punched a few buttons.

  “Give me a minute,” he said, walking away.

  “No problem, Max. I’m going to take the dogs out.”

  Gathering the canine trio together, I took them for a quick trip around the yard, just long enough for them to get the job done. When I walked through the back door, the retired homicide investigator was nowhere to be seen. I checked in the living room, where I found the Googins girls watching the local news channel. “Have you two seen Max?”

  “Oh, he poked his head in to say hello and then asked us to tell you that he is expecting an important phone call. He’ll catch up with you.”

  “Great,” I nodded. I hoped that didn’t mean trouble for Larry. How complicated could it be to find out where she was and why she wasn’t answering her phone? “In the meantime, I think I’ll get cracking on dinner.”

  Stepping out into the hallway, I noticed the library door was shut. Apparently, the experienced investigator needed privacy. Surely he should have had an instant answer when he called Larry’s unit. Someone had to know where she was. Should I view the closed door as a harbinger of trouble? Now I was definitely worried.

  Half an hour later, Max came to find me in the kitchen, where I was in the middle of preparing a chicken for the roasting pan. His eyes had a guarded look to them, his mouth was drawn tight.

  “Want the good news or the bad?”

  “How bad is it?” My stomach felt like I was riding an express elevator down from the fortieth floor.

  “Larry left the forensics lab in Meriden two hours ago. She told the people on her team she had a personal emergency. Her phone was just found on the seat of her car, along with her purse. There were signs of a struggle, some blood. Not a lot of blood, but enough.”

  “Dear God!” I sank down on a stool, stunned. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Unfortunately, it is,” he reminded me. “At least Michaela isn’t here.”

  “You think someone kidnapped Larry?” It must be true. How else could we explain the items left in her car? Larry never went anywhere without her phone. It was a lifeline, especially since she was always on call.

  “It’s possible.” Max was hedging his answer. Did he want to believe she’d be okay as much as I did?

  “She was so worried about this case, Max. Carmine Tossi’s kid....”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s an ugly situation.”

  “Do you think someone’s trying to squash the investigation?”

  “It’s hard to know what to think, Scarlet. We really don’t have anything to go on at the moment.”

  “What if she was kidnapped....Or worse?” I suddenly flashed back to my dream. No, not a dream...a nightmare. Someone had wanted to get Larry. Even in my sleep, I had known she was in grave danger. “What if someone wants to kill her?”

  “Not to worry. I’m sure her colleague misheard her,” he fibbed, pretending that there was a logical reason why the homicide investigator was missing. “It’s just a silly misunderstanding. The state cops will locate her before you know it.”

  That didn’t explain why Larry left her phone and her purse behind. Nor did it explain the blood in her car.

  “And if they don’t?” I wanted to know.

  “Don’t even say that, Scarlet.” Our eyes met and I could see the painful doubt creeping into his thoughts, feeding his personal sense of helplessness. He was no longer running the show. Max couldn’t call in his people or launch an investigation. He was a civilian now. “There’s got to be a logical explanation. There has to be one!”

  “What can we do? We’ve got to do something,” I insisted. “We can’t just sit here on our hands!”

  “I gave the unit my number. They’ll call me back when they’ve got something. I told them Larry’s parents are coming in tonight.”

  We were at a loss, the pair of us, sitting in the library and waiting for answers, waiting for some reason to hope. Twenty minutes later, when the landline rang again, I expected to hear Edna’s voice on the other end. I was shocked to hear Larry speak.

  “Ms. Wilson? This is Laurencia Rivera. I’m staying in the White Oak Room at the inn while my condo’s being painted....” What was she talking about? I put my hand over the phone.

  “Max, it’s Larry, and she’s acting like she doesn’t know me!”

  “Put it on speaker,” he urged me. “Hurry up!”

  I did as he directed, my fingers trembling as I punched the button. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before I spoke, mentally preparing myself. “Yes, Ms. Rivera. What can I do for you?”

  “I wonder if you could help me out. I think I left my bank card on the dresser in my room. Is there any chance you could go in there and check for me?”

  Max grabbed my arm and squeezed, before he leaned over and whispered into my ear. “Tell her you’ll be happy to look. Then put the phone down and walk out the door. Make some noise.”

  I followed his instructions. Max met me in the hallway. “Okay. When you go back in there in a minute, you ask her if it’s a Bank of America card. When she says yes, you tell her you have it. Got that?”

  Why did it matter if it was a Bank of America card? I started to ask, but Max shook his head.

  “Just trust me, Scarlet.”

  A moment later, I made a very loud approach into the library, with Max softly on my heels. As he hovered, I spoke.

  “Ms. Rivera? Is it a Bank of America credit card you wanted?” There was a long pause before Larry responded.

  “Why, yes. Yes, it is. Did you find it?”

  “It was on your nightstand.”

  “Great,” Larry told me. “I’ll be right over to pick it up. I’m having dinner with a friend of mine tonight and I promised him I would treat.”

  “Okay,” I replied, feeling a sudden rush of panic for the safety of my friend. What if this was the last conversation she ever had? What if the creep who was holding her captive didn’t bring her to the Four Acorns Inn? “Get here in one piece.”

  “Excuse me?” I could hear the worry in her voice. Had I just put her in greater danger? Think, Miz Scarlet. Say something logical.

  “Be careful. The roads are icy now.”

  “Right,” said the experienced homicide investigator, sounding relieved. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  I barely had time to hang up before Max grabbed my arm and steered me out of the library and down the hall in the direction of the living room.

  “We have to put the ladies somewhere safe,” he told me. “Is there a closet we can use, somewhere that won’t be searched by Larry’s abductor?”

  “Better yet, what about the carriage house?” I countered. “Bur’s got a heated workshop in the garage. Will that help?”

  “Absolutely!” Max let out a long breath of relief. “I’m going to need your mother’s wheelchair.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t have time to explain now.”

  Three minutes later, bundled up against the cold, the ladies were escorted out to the tiny workshop at
the back of the building. Max had to lift the wheels on my mother’s motorized chair over some of the patches of ice on the driveway, but we managed to get her there in one piece. Tapping the switch for the automatic overhead door, my heart pounding, I counted the seconds until it rose. Time was of the essence. There was no telling when Larry and her kidnapper would show up. Hurrying inside, I led the trio past my car, all the way to the door of the small room in the back of the carriage house, where I flipped on the overhead fluorescent light, and searched for my brother’s favorite flashlight. With the blue Maglite in hand, I turned on the thermostat for the electric baseboard heater. Then I retrieved two plastic patio chairs and set them on the floor in the corner. Max and I lifted my mother to her feet and helped her into one of them.

  “Here,” I handed Lacey the heavy flashlight. She groaned under its weight.

  “We don’t have much time,” Max informed them. “Stay here. You’ve got your phones?”

  “We do,” Lacey told him. I could see the Googins girls were terrified.

  “We’ll come and get you as soon as this is over. Keep the light off.” I hugged my mother, kissing the top of her head, and then I threw my arm around Lacey’s shoulder. “Be safe.”

  “Scarlet, come on!” Max had the wheelchair and he was standing in Bur’s open bay. I flipped off the ceiling light and shut the door to the workshop, following in his wake. That’s when a pair of headlights flashed in the driveway. “Crap!”

  “What are we going to do?” I cried. I started to run for cover, but then the horn honked. It was a familiar horn. Looking up through the glare, I saw the SUV had New Jersey plates.

  “Kenny! What is he doing here?” Relief flooded over me like a big, warm wave of pure, unadulterated love. Kenny to the rescue. My hero. Everything will be okay now.

  “Say what?” Max was stunned. We stood there as the car rolled down the driveway towards us. “His timing is perfect!”

  “You’re telling me!”

  Thirty seconds later, Kenny’s Ford Edge was safely ensconced in the garage, out of sight. The three of us sprinted back to the house with the wheelchair in tow, even as Max and Kenny were plotting strategy.

  “You call the state police....” The former homicide investigator barked out orders, giving Kenny the contact numbers to get the ball rolling. “If you hear me say ‘rock and roll’, Ken, that’s your cue to burst in.”

  “Got it.”

  “You armed?” Max wanted to know.

  “You bet. And I can be dangerous when I need to be.”

  The two men put the wheelchair down in the hallway and Max settled into it. “Do you have a lap blanket for me, Scarlet?”

  “Sure. There’s one in the living room.” I went to fetch it. The soft whir of the motorized machine told me the anxious investigator was hot on my heels, giving it a test run before the action heated up. He got stuck on the lip of the threshold, as one of the wheels spun, and had to back it up and try again. “Make sure you go over the threshold with the full force of the motor behind you, Max.”

  “Front wheel drive, huh?”

  “I guess so. Here’s your blanket.” I laid the Black Watch tartan over his knees. “What do I do?”

  “You act like you don’t know Larry. You’re just an innkeeper and she is a guest, just like I am.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “What about the credit card?”

  “Take mine.” Max pulled out a Bank of America credit card and handed it over to me. “Put it in your pocket, but don’t hand it over unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “They’re here!” Kenny popped his head into the living room to warn us. He finagled with the mantle greenery, tucking something behind it. “This is a wireless camera. I’ll be able to monitor the action in this room. I have a couple more set up in other rooms, just in case.”

  “Oh, where is Huck?” The Yorkshire terrier wasn’t on his sofa.

  “I put the dogs on the sun porch, so they won’t be in the way. I’ll be in the library. State cops are en route. ETA is ten minutes.”

  “Roger that,” Max told him. “Okay, people. It’s show time! Don’t rush to answer the door, Scarlet. We’ve got to use up as much of that ten minutes as we can, so stall, stall, stall.”

  “Right.” My hands were clammy and cold as I stood in the hall. I rubbed them briskly together, trying to warm up. When the doorbell rang, I forced myself to count to one hundred before I slowly made my way to the front door, stopping to turn on lights as I went along. The foyer was brightly illuminated by the time I opened the front door to invite Larry and her abductor in.

  “Hi,” I said in an overly cheery voice. “You made it here safely. How’s the driving?”

  Larry’s face was a study in tension. Her normally alert eyes looked hollow and empty, and for a moment, I wondered if she had been sexually assaulted. I caught sight of the elbow that poked into her side, prompting her to respond to my question. The man beside her was definitely controlling her movements. Who was he and what did he want with her?

  “The driving was fine, Ms. Wilson. I wonder if I could get that credit card now....”

  “Gee, it’s a shame you have to run off. Are you sure you two wouldn’t like to stay for dinner? I’ve got a roasted chicken that is about to come out of the oven,” I smiled. I forced myself to be friendly to the man holding my friend. “There’s plenty.”

  “We’ve got a reservation,” she answered woodenly. “If I could just have that card, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Hold on a minute,” said her companion, a man in his forties, as he stood behind her. Just over six feet tall, wearing a gray North Face jacket with the hood drawn tight, he seemed to tower over Larry. His eyes were green and narrow, cat-like; he eyed me like I was a canary. This man was definitely a predator. “There’s no reason to be hasty. Let’s not rush off.”