by J. C. Eaton
My aunt had told me Louis knew the chef at Saveur de Evangeline, but so did lots of people. Big deal. No, judging from the mixed-up phone conversation Myrna overheard, whoever this Louie was, he couldn’t be a retired saxophone player from a cruise ship band. Only Shirley Johnson and the other women in my mother’s book club could come up with a theory like that.
Chapter 13
“Hey, Phee! This is a long shot, but you wouldn’t happen to know anyone by the name of Louise Munson, would you?”
It was a little past nine the next day and Nate had just walked into the office. Before I could say anything, he continued. “Funny story. She was on the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Posse report. Called in the night before Theodore Sizemore was found on the golf course. Actually, it was more like a predawn call, but they had it listed as the prior night so the date was off. Anyhow, this Louise Munson apparently calls the sheriff’s posse periodically to complain about car headlights waking up her bird.”
“Nate, I—”
“Hold on, kiddo. Hold on. It gets better. Like I was saying, she’s registered a number of complaints because when car headlights flash through her bedroom window, they wake up her bird and it starts squawking. The sheriff’s office told her to either cover the bird cage with some blackout fabric or close her curtains, which she refuses to do. Says the blackout fabric is too stifling for the bird and she likes to look at the stars and moon when she goes to sleep. Long story short—she lives perpendicular to the road that runs next to the golf course and across the street from none other than Wanda and Dolores. You know, the place with the trampled perennials. Phee, this lady might have actually seen a getaway vehicle. Yeah, yeah, don’t say anything. It was ridiculous to think you might know her.”
“Actually, if it’s the same woman I’m thinking of, I do know her. She’s in my mother’s book club.”
Nate stared at me as if I had two heads. “Oh. That would explain everything. You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s reliable as a witness or anything, would you?”
“No, not really. The women in my mother’s club are all very nice but seem to be prone to exaggeration, rumor, and innuendo and, need I add, fear-mongering.”
“Oh brother. Looks like I’m in for a hell of a morning. I’m supposed to meet with her in an hour and a half.”
“It’ll be fine. She’s a very nice woman. Honestly. Besides, you’ll get to catch up on all the local goings-on.”
“Just what I need. A morning at Peyton Place.”
I started laughing as he made himself a cup of coffee and headed to his desk. “Oh my gosh. I almost forgot, Nate. I left you a message on your desk. A woman stopped in about her ex-boyfriend and some missing money. I told her you’d call her.”
“She’s not from—”
“No. Not everyone’s from my mother’s neighborhood.”
He was about to say something when the phone rang and I picked it up. Telemarketer. I hung up and got on with my work. Augusta arrived a few minutes after Nate took off to see Louise Munson. Her usual greeting was replaced by frantic shouting.
“Phee! Phee! Did you catch the early morning news? No, I don’t suppose you did or you wouldn’t be sitting so calmly at your desk.”
“What? What news? What did you hear?”
“The police found Roland LeDoux’s motorcycle. Your aunt’s master chef. That Roland LeDoux.”
“Yes, yes, there’s only one Roland LeDoux I’m familiar with. Where did they find the bike?”
“In someone’s garage in Sun City Grand. The police got a tip and, sure enough, they found that motorcycle.”
“Did they make any arrests?”
“No. They found the bike, but the person who lives in that house can’t be found. It’s probably the killer and they’ve left the country by now.”
“Did the police give any names?”
“No. Everything’s under investigation. They’ve got the house cordoned off with that yellow tape. Who are they kidding? The killer’s long gone. Even if they’ve got a name and put it out on the no-fly list, it’s probably too late.”
“Sun City Grand is huge, Augusta. Did they say what street it was?”
She shook her head and went back to her desk.
There wasn’t too much I could do at this point except wait and see what the police turned up. Sun City Grand was in Surprise and in a police jurisdiction. That meant a lot of sharing information with the sheriff’s office, and if what Nate told me was true, then the process would take a heck of a lot longer. Not as simple as having the Sun City West sheriff’s deputies speak with Cecilia and Myrna as a courtesy to the Surprise Police Department. Yep, those police officers sure “dodged a bullet” with that one.
Everything seemed to happen at once later in the afternoon when Nate got back to the office.
He threw the door open and shouted to Augusta and me. “You ladies won’t believe a word of this, but Louise Munson saw the very car whose headlights disturbed her bird.”
I minimized the spreadsheet program in front of me and got up from my chair just as Augusta stopped what she was doing and looked at our boss. “Real bird or chocolate?”
Nate gave her a sideways glance. “Seriously, ladies. This may be the break we need. There’s a streetlight next to the Munson woman’s mailbox and when the bird started squawking, she got out of bed and looked out. Of course, she couldn’t get the license plate and it was too dark to see the actual color of the vehicle, but she recognized what kind it was.”
He stood there absolutely still with a wide grin on his face, and I was dying to hear the rest. “Come on, Nate. Are you going to keep us in suspense or tell us?”
“A Lexus. And not just any Lexus, mind you. She said it was one of those with a grill that looks like an angry jaw dropping down the bottom of it. I pulled up a few models on my smartphone and she was able to narrow it down a bit. Too bad there’s no street surveillance going in and out of Sun City West. Louise went on to say no other cars disturbed her bird before or after that one.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
“So you know what I’m thinking? Could be that whoever lobbed a heavy rock at Theodore Sizemore’s head must have had a car parked somewhere in the vicinity. The very car your mother’s bird-loving friend spotted. The perpetrator had to walk across Wanda and Dolores’s side yard to get to their car. It’s all adding up, but what the hell? You both know as well as I do that every retiree in this state owns either a Lexus, a Buick, or some rust job they drove out here with.”
Augusta cleared her throat with enormous guttural sounds. “I happen to own a Ford pickup and, for your information, it’s rust free.”
“I wasn’t referring to you. You’re not a retiree yet.” Nate started for his office.
“Wait!” I said. “So now what?”
“More questioning. More connections. Right now, more coffee.”
I took that as a hint to get back to my own work and sank myself in front of the computer. My fingers had barely touched the keyboard when my cell phone rang. I thumbed through my bag and got to the call before it went to voice mail.
“Phee! Don’t say a word. Do not say anything. Listen to me. I called you on your cell phone because I didn’t want to call on the office line. Can you hear me?”
As if to make her point clear, my mother shouted it again.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes, I can hear you. I’m in the next town over, not Bolivia! What’s going on?”
“What’s going on? What’s going on? I can hardly think. I knew something like this was going to happen. It was a matter of time. But would your aunt listen? Oh no. Not Ina. Eternal bliss and all that malarkey.”
“Is Aunt Ina all right?”
“Physically she’s fine. She’ll outlive us all. But no, she’s not all right. Louis is missing.”
“WHAT? What do you mean missing?”
“Your aunt Ina hasn’t seen or heard from him since yesterday morning when he woke her. Said he had lots
of errands and business but he’d see her for dinner. He never showed up. Then she began to think maybe he meant dinner the next night and that he had a musical engagement somewhere. A gig. That’s what she called it. A gig. But that wasn’t like Louis not to call her. Your aunt didn’t sleep a wink and went over to his house around three in the morning. No one answered the door, so she let herself in with the key he gave her. She was petrified that he’d had a heart attack or fell and was unconscious. But no. No one was there and his bed was still made up. Face it, Phee. Louis Melinsky has gone missing. I saw this once on Telemundo. The groom got cold feet and took the first plane out of Mexico.”
“You don’t really think he’d do something like that, do you?”
“How am I supposed to know? I don’t even know the man. But between you and me, if he didn’t dump her, it could only mean one thing—foul play. Kidnapping. Murder. Ransom. The point being, Louis is missing.”
“Oh my God! That’s terrible.”
“No. Terrible was having to listen to your aunt. She kept going on and on about being jilted at the altar and turning into the next Miss Havisham. Ranted about dying in her wedding dress and burning down a house. I swear she’s off her rocker. Who on earth is Miss Havisham? Is that someone we know?”
“No, Mother. It’s a Charles Dickens character. From the novel Great Expectations. She was a wealthy spinster who got left at the altar and . . .”
“Never mind. Right now, Louis Melinsky needs to be found. You have to do something.”
“Um, er . . . Did Aunt Ina call the Surprise police and report him as missing?”
“They won’t take the report until forty-eight hours are up. Unless it was someone who skipped out of a facility. Then they’ll take the report.”
“Okay. Okay. Nate’s still in the office. Let me talk to him and we’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, try to find out if Louis might have given Aunt Ina an idea of where he could be.”
“If he gave her an idea, do you think she’d be calling me?”
“Okay. Forget it. Wait till I call you back.” I ended the call and flew out of my office so fast I nearly collided with Augusta, who was on her way to the copy machine.
“Family trouble,” I shouted as I headed to Nate’s door.
He must have overheard me, because he was leaning against the door frame motioning for me to step inside.
Chapter 14
“Okay, kiddo, suppose you start at the beginning.”
“If I do, we’ll be here for hours. I’ll make it quick—my aunt’s fiancé is missing and it’s too early for the police to do anything about it.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not the police. Give your aunt a call and we’ll meet her at Louis’s house. He might have left a clue or something about his whereabouts.”
Amid her sobbing and histrionics, I was able to get Aunt Ina to give us the address and agree to meet us there in a half hour.
“You’ve got the watch!” Nate shouted to Augusta as he and I walked out of the office and over to his car. Turning my head quickly, I saw her give us a salute and a wide grin.
“This is really above and beyond for you to do this, Nate.” I buckled my seat belt. “You’ve got enough paying cases on your docket without adding my family’s drama to your plate.”
“Part of this is my fault, Phee, and I’m really sorry.”
“Your fault? What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been so busy with the Sizemore death, the cheating exes, and the deadbeat dads that I never got a chance to run that background check on Louis Melinsky for you. I could kick myself in the butt.”
“Don’t worry about it. The guy is probably on the up and up and the only thing troublesome is my imagination. Of course, people don’t just up and run and not tell anyone their plans. Especially if the anyone is the person they’re supposed to marry in a few weeks.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe it’ll turn out to be one big misunderstanding and all will be well with the world again.”
It wasn’t. Beginning with the directions my aunt gave us. I thought Nate was going to have a coronary.
“Your aunt said to turn at the pretty beige house with the tall trellis. What the heck, Phee? All the houses here are beige and most of them have trellises. Quick. Load the info into the Garmin, will you? It’s in the glove compartment. At least she knew her fiancé’s street number. Who gives directions like that?”
All of my family members, if you want to know the truth.
I didn’t want to tell him my mother had lived in Mankato for most of her life and, with the exception of major crossroads, she hadn’t a clue to the street names. Why should my aunt be any different?
The tension seemed to leave Nate’s face as the robotic voice from the Garmin enunciated street names and mileage. Louis Melinsky’s house was a few blocks from the Sun City Grand Recreation Center on Remington Drive. Unfortunately, as soon as we turned onto his street we knew something was wrong. At least we knew it before Aunt Ina did.
“Check that address again, will you, Phee? Did your aunt give us the right one? Louis’s house is supposed to be on the left-hand side of the street. That better not be the one I’m looking at. Please tell me it’s not.”
“It is, Nate. It’s the house with the yellow crime scene tape. My God. They’ve got that stuff plastered all over. It’s the house Augusta described from the news. Only she didn’t know the address. This is the house where the police found Roland LeDoux’s motorcycle in the garage. What a nightmare.”
“You can say that again. I’m pulling over and we’ll check it out.”
To make matters worse, a police car was parked smack-dab in front of the place.
“Oh, hell no,” I shouted. “Here comes my aunt.”
Like a banshee, Aunt Ina was unstoppable. “Oh my God! What happened? Did someone kill my Louis? Oh my God! They’ve murdered my poor Louis in cold blood.”
We had parked across the street from Louis’s house and my aunt pulled up right behind us. Nate and I were starting to get out of his car when she came barreling toward us, her long braids slapping against the sides of her face. If it wasn’t such a serious situation, I might have found myself laughing.
“Calm down, Aunt Ina,” I said. “Louis Melinsky isn’t dead. The reason the house is cordoned off is because someone tipped off the police that Roland LeDoux’s motorcycle was inside the garage.”
“Oh my God! Then my fiancé is a killer? He murdered Roland LeDoux and stole his motorcycle?”
By now Nate was standing directly in front of my aunt, motioning for her to calm down. “No, no, Mrs. Stangler, we don’t know that. Your niece and I just got here.”
“Then how do you know about the motorcycle?”
“It was on the news, Aunt Ina, only we didn’t know it was Louis Melinsky’s house where they found it.”
“I’m going to faint. That’s what I’m going to do. NO! Wait. I’m going to scream. First I’ll scream and then I’ll faint.”
“Don’t faint and don’t scream, Aunt Ina. Come on and sit down in Nate’s car.”
Immediately, Nate held the car door open and waited for my aunt to take a seat. “There’s water in the console. Help yourself. I’m going to have a word with the officer across the street.”
I sat directly behind my aunt and watched as Nate crossed the street to speak with the patrol officer on duty. Both he and Nate stood facing the house. It was impossible to tell what was going on. A few minutes later, Nate slid into the front seat and turned to face us.
“I showed him my identification and told him I had been hired by the family to investigate Louis’s disappearance. The house is still considered a crime scene, so I won’t be able to check anything out without police presence. I’ve got a number to call in order to make those arrangements. There’s one technicality.”
I leaned forward and waited for him to explain.
“I stretched the truth back there. No one’s hired me.”
“You’re hired! Y
ou’re hired!” my aunt started screaming. “What do I have to sign?”
Nate explained that in order to comply with state regulations, she’d need to sign a contract authorizing Williams Investigations to look into the disappearance of her fiancé.
“I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a copy of the contract. You can sign it and e-mail it back. The instructions are pretty clear. If you’re not comfortable with that, you can fax it or snail mail it back. You do have an e-mail address, Mrs. Stangler, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I don’t live in the Dark Ages. And, for your information, my printer has all sorts of capabilities. So does my computer. It’s just that horrid little smartphone that drives me crazy. I keep getting all those colored circles confused and I never know what button to push next. Anyway, here you go.” My aunt flipped open a small pad from inside her bag and scribbled what looked like an e-mail address on it.
“This is me. [email protected].”
Nate’s expression was deadpan, but I could tell that inwardly he wanted to burst out laughing.
“Aunt Ina, are you going to be all right? We’ll follow you back home. Try to relax. Maybe make yourself a cup of tea and watch an old movie or something. I promise we’ll call if anything turns up.”
Then Nate interjected before my aunt could say anything. “Mrs. Stangler, should the police call and ask to question you, have them wait until I can be present. Understand?”
“There’s nothing I can possibly tell them. Nothing.”
“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all of this, Aunt Ina, but if it will make you feel any better, you can start calling all of the area hospitals on the unlikely chance he’s been admitted somewhere.”
“I did that already! Hours ago! I called every hospital in all of the local networks, plus the independent ones and a few from Indian reservations. I gave his name and a description in case they thought he was a John Doe. Louis Melinsky isn’t in any of the hospitals. No, there’s nothing that can put my mind at ease. No cups of tea. No old movies. The only thing I’m going to do is to try on my wedding gown again and—”
