The Edge f-4

by Catherine Coulter

  The first thought in my brain when I saw Elaine Tarcher up close was that if she wanted to jump me, I wouldn't have hesitated any longer than I'd hesitated with her daughter. The woman wasn't anywhere near her husband's age. I knew she had to be at least in her late forties, given Cotter's age, but still, she just didn't look it. There wasn't anything pathetic about her. I had nothing against cosmetic surgery, if that's what she used to stop the march of gravity. If so, Elaine Tarcher had an excellent cosmetic surgeon.

  She looked to be in her thirties, no older. She was wearing a black cocktail dress, sheer black panty hose, and black high heels. She had Cal's rich brown hair, short and styled in a mussed-up fashion that made her look very natural and, at the same time, eminently sophisticated. At least half a dozen men were standing around her in a circle, and she let them admire her. I heard her laugh, a charming sound, full and deep and very personal. I didn't agree at all with Maggie that any of her moves were ridiculous.

  I heard Alyssum Tarcher call out Maggie's name. She shrugged, pressed my hand, and left me. I stood there observing Elaine Tarcher's magic.

  "Everyone thinks my mother is just a silly, useless ornament, but it's not true."

  I smiled down at Cal Tarcher, who'd come up behind me. I couldn't see any just-had-sex signs on her face. She was back in her frump mode, neat as could be, her glasses firmly in place. She had changed her blouse since I'd ripped hers. This one was just as bland.

  "Introduce me, Cal."

  She looked up at me, silent for a moment, and said, "I wish you weren't staying with Paul."

  I felt her lurching upward, bringing me deeper inside her body, and swallowed hard. "I agree, but there's nothing to be done for it."

  "Old Charlie Duck adored my mother. She'll be one of the main speakers at his funeral tomorrow. I hope you'll be there? That's all she's talking about tonight, his murder. She's really mad about it."

  "Oh, yes, I won't miss it. Perhaps Jilly can come as well."

  "When are you going to leave? To go back to Washington."

  "I don't know," I said. "Maybe I'll stay on a couple more days. I thought of Laura and felt a hard dash of guilt for having sex with Cal. I shouldn't, I knew that, but it was still there.

  I met Elaine Tarcher, all of her gathered admirers, and Miss Geraldine, the leader of the town League and the mayor of Edgerton. She was a well-dressed old bat with a sharp tongue and faded blue eyes that I bet never missed a thing. She said, "Well, boy, I understand you came to see what happened to your sister. Well, I'll tell you what happened. She was going around a corner in that Porsche of hers and lost control. I've told Jilly a dozen times to be careful, but she just sings and dances away. She's fine now, I hear. That's good."

  "That's exactly what Jilly said happened," I said.

  "How long are you staying in Edgerton?"

  "You'll make Mr. MacDougal feel unwelcome, Geraldine, and he's not," Elaine Tarcher said. She'd not said anything up to now. She'd been studying me, assessing me, calmly. There was nothing at all flirtatious in her manner. I wondered if she was seeing me as a possible mate for her daughter. I saw her group of friends fade back when her husband came over.

  Alyssum nodded to his wife, then kissed Miss Geraldine's parchment cheek. "You've met our guest here, Geraldine?"

  "He appears to be a good boy. Or maybe he's just tall and good-looking and nothing else interesting. I've heard he wants to solve the puzzle of our key letters."

  "I've been working on it," I said.

  "So did Charlie Duck," Elaine Tarcher said. "He told me just a couple of days ago that he was getting real close. I know I never should have thought it up since I didn't have anything to go with it, and I've thought and thought, but without reportable results."

  "BITEASS-not easy," Alyssum said. He was impatient with this nonsense, I could see. Where was that prick, Cotter?

  "Edgerton Town League," said Elaine. "That would have been better. Simpler. Short and to the point."

  "Not as clever," said Miss Geraldine. "I've always admired clever. Don't worry, Elaine. I'm counting on our nice-looking fellow here. So you're with the FBI. Is that right?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I also heard you were in the hospital until just before you came here."

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm just fine now."

  "Are you some sort of hero?"

  "No way, ma'am, just in the wrong spot at the wrong time. How about Better Information Through Elucidation And Sober Selection?"

  "That's not bad," Elaine said, nodding. God, she'd taken me seriously. No, I saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

  "It doesn't mean anything," Alyssum said. "It's just nonsense."

  Elaine Tarcher gave me a sweet smile. "Keep working on it, Mac. Do you mind if I call you Mac? Good.

  It's a nice solid name. Poor Cal, now she's got a burden to bear-"

  "Please, Mother, don't."

  "All right, dear. I forgot."

  "Maybe," I said, "if you could tell me the purpose of the BITEASS League, I could come up with something better."

  I know I didn't imagine it. Elaine Tarcher shot a look toward Miss Geraldine, who just smiled and said, "We do a bit of everything, Mac. I originally organized the League to force a local chemical plant to clean up its waste. With Alyssum's help, we got them to do it. We discovered we had clout. With an entire town focusing on one specific problem, we could accomplish quite a lot. Now we use it whenever anyone in town needs help or there's another problem common to all of us. Nothing more than that. It's worked very well."

  "Usually we're just a big social club," Elaine said. "Tomorrow we'll hold a wake for poor Charlie. The funeral will be the next day. We want to give him a good send-off."

  "Poor old man," Cal said.

  "It's time for Geraldine to cut her birthday cake," Alyssum Tarcher said.

  I walked with them to the long table where a large three-tiered cake sat, weighted down by more candles than I could count.

  "Don't think we're insulting her," Cal said. "Geraldine always insists that the number of candles equal the number of years."

  I saw Paul out of the corner of my eye, cutting through the crowds of people to get to me.

  "What's the matter, Paul?"

  "Mac, I just got a call from the hospital. Jilly's gone. They don't know where she is. Do you know anything? Did she tell you where she was going?"

  Chapter Ten

  It was after midnight when we'd all come back to Jilly's room. I stared down at her bed. It looked like Jilly had simply stood up, lightly smoothed her hand over the covers, and left the hospital room.

  "She had no clothes," I said as I touched my hand to her pillowcase. "She couldn't have just walked out of here in her hospital nightgown."

  Paul said, "She asked me to bring her clothes this afternoon. I did. I didn't want to make her feel like she was some sort of prisoner. Believe me, she never said she was planning on walking out of here."

  "This is weird," Rob Morrison said, walking into the hospital room. "Was she even strong enough to walk out of here?"

  "Yes," Maggie said. "She was getting stronger by the minute. Her muscles hadn't given out on her. She was only here for four days, Rob. Does anyone here know anything?"

  "Nobody saw a thing," Rob said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. His neck cracked. "Man, this doesn't make any sense. Why would she leave? Why didn't she say anything to the nurses? She's got to be here somewhere. I've rounded up everyone I could find to search the hospital, top to bottom. Two of the security guys have established grids in the parking lot and the grounds and are walking them off.

  They won't miss her even if she's hiding under a car."

  "I'm talking to everyone," Maggie said. "Someone must have seen her leave. She's not a ghost."

  Paul said suddenly, "Maybe somebody took her." It was the first time he'd said anything like that since we'd all run out of the Tarcher party more than three hours before.

  I turned slowly to face Paul. "Wh
y would anyone take Jilly?"

  "I don't know," Paul said. "But somebody may have been afraid she'd remember everything that happened Tuesday night. She was gone for three hours, dammit. Where did she go? What did she do?"

  He added on a whisper, "Maybe it was Laura. I don't understand what was going on between Jilly and Laura anymore. Who else would have done it?"

  I pictured Laura in my mind and I couldn't begin to believe she could have done anything like that. But Jilly had said that Laura had betrayed her, that Laura was dangerous.

  "Fine," I said. I took Paul's arm and pulled him out of Jilly's room as I said, "Excuse us, Maggie, Rob, but I've got to clear something up with Paul, and it just can't wait."

  "Maybe Laura took her," Paul said again once we were in the empty hospital corridor.

  "Let's say that Laura did take her. Did she have a gun to her head? Maybe Laura was carrying her over her shoulder? That means that someone must have seen Laura with her. It's ridiculous, Paul, just plain ridiculous. Now, I dragged you out here because I want the truth out of you and I want it now. Did you sleep with Laura?"

  "All right, so I didn't sleep with her," he said, and my nerd brother-in-law actually flushed up to his eyebrows.

  "Why would you tell a lie like that about an innocent woman?"

  "I wanted to sleep with her, but she turned me down. I wanted to get even."

  "That doesn't make sense, Paul. You never knew I'd even meet Laura Scott. How would that be getting even?"

  "It wouldn't. Look, Mac, I wanted to sleep with her. It was a fantasy, nothing more really, just lay off. It's not something I'm proud of doing, but I did it. Now I'm undoing it."

  I said slowly, "Jilly told me that Laura had betrayed her. If you didn't sleep with Laura, if you made it all up, then what did Jilly mean?"

  Paul shrugged. "I guess Jilly must have believed that Laura was my lover."

  "I suppose you made some comments that Jilly might have misinterpreted?" I wanted to slug him. It was hard not to.

  "Look, Mac, Jilly and I were married for eight years. You can't be married that long and not have some problems. We had our share."

  "According to Jilly in February when I saw her, you and she were in the sack all the time, having a fine time."

  "Yeah, well, sex isn't everything."

  "Paul, was Laura at your house last Tuesday night?"

  "Of course she wasn't there. Why would she be? I already told you, Mac, it was just Jilly and me and the halibut we broiled. What the hell does that matter anyway? I'm going back to Jilly's room."

  I watched him until he disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. I heard Maggie speaking to Rob as they walked out of Jilly's room, over the security guards' voices, all of them talking over one another, making no sense really.

  Mrs. Himmel caught sight of me and waved me down. I saw at least half a dozen hospital personnel milling about behind her. She was wringing her hands. I'd never seen Mrs. Himmel flustered before. She looked like she was going to burst into tears. Her pallor worried me. "Mrs. Himmel," I said, gently touching her shoulder.

  "Oh, Mr. MacDougal, it's all my fault. Oh, God, Mrs. Bartlett is gone and it's my fault."

  I pulled out my firm, very matter-of-fact voice that sometimes worked to calm things down. "Let's go someplace quiet, Mrs. Himmel. I need your help." I followed her to the nurses' lounge. There were two nurses inside, drinking coffee. I heard one of them say, "People said that she'd tried to kill herself. Well, now she just left to do it right this time."

  The other nurse jumped to her feet when she saw me. "Oh, Mr. MacDougal."

  "Excuse us, please. Mrs. Himmel and I need to be alone for a moment."

  The nurses were out of there in under two seconds. I led Mrs. Himmel to an old brown vinyl sofa that had seen better days maybe three decades ago. "Tell me what happened," I said, sitting down beside her.

  She drew a deep breath, her fingers curling into a fist. I saw that she was a strong woman. Her biceps rippled as she clenched and unclenched her hands. She was regaining some healthy color, thank God.

  "Mrs. Bartlett was very quiet," she said finally. "I just thought she had a lot on her mind, and no wonder.

  I've heard a lot of the stuff that's been going on, so many questions, so much that people wanted her to tell them. I heard her say today that everything from that night was blurry. Well, I suppose that's possible, but I really don't think so.

  "Oh damn, let me just get it off my chest. It is all my fault. If I hadn't eaten shrimp for dinner, I would have been at my station just down from Mrs. Bartlett's room or actually with her in her room, tending her, and nothing would have happened!"

  "Shrimp?" I must have blinked because she leaned over and patted my hand. She was in control again.

  "How could you possibly know? I've had a bad reaction to shrimp in the past, but it looked so good that I wanted to eat just a little bit. Well, I did and it hit me really hard. I was in the bathroom most of the time, sicker than Mr. Peete down the hall who just had a chemo session. Because I wasn't at my post, Mrs. Bartlett could have just walked out with no one stopping her or asking her questions, probably with no one even noticing her. And of course she had her own clothes. Dr. Bartlett brought her a suitcase this afternoon. She'd been fretting about it, you know, so he gave in and brought her the clothes she wanted."

  Paul could describe what Jilly was wearing.

  "When we walked in here just a few minutes ago, I heard Brenda Flack, one of the ICU nurses, talking about Mrs. Bartlett leaving to kill herself. I hate to say this, Mr. MacDougal, but it's possible."

  "No," I said. "Jilly told me very clearly that she lost control of her car. She didn't try to kill herself. I believe her. Why did she walk out of here without telling anyone? I don't know. But count on it, I'm going to find out everything. Can you think of anything that happened today or this evening that wasn't quite right?"

  "Well, there was a phone call from that young lady who was here yesterday."

  "Laura Scott?"

  "Yes, that's her. She asked to speak to Mrs. Bartlett, but there was a foul-up and she never got through to her. But why would that be important? They were friends, weren't they?"

  At three in the morning we still had exactly zilch. No one had seen Jilly. No one had seen anyone carrying her out of the hospital or carrying much of anything, for that matter. Maggie Sheffield had an APB out on her. Since we had no clue about a car, there wasn't much to say other than to give a description of Jilly, and from Paul, a description of the clothes she was wearing, a gray running outfit with black trim and black-and-white running shoes.

  I put pressure on the phone company and found out that there'd been a phone call to Jilly's room from the single pay phone on Fifth Avenue, downtown Edgerton, at 8:48 P.M. Laura's call had come in about eight, but she hadn't spoken to Jilly.

  I found Paul sitting in the chair in Jilly's room, his head in his hands.

  I said, "Someone called Jilly from a pay phone in Edgerton earlier this evening."

  "There's only one public phone," Paul said. "It's on Fifth Avenue, right in front of Grace's Deli."

  I said, "Anyone could have ducked out of the party to go make the call. You included, Paul."

  "Yes," he said, not looking at me. "Cotter disagrees with me. He thinks Jilly was pissed off that everyone had assumed she was trying to kill herself. She wanted to make all of us worry that she just might try it again. She wants to make us suffer. She'll show up soon, laughing at us. Oh, yeah, Cotter was here earlier, helping look for her."

  I said, "Let's get some sleep. It's late. My brain's scrambled. There's nothing more we can do until morning. Come on, Paul, let's go home."

  I wanted at least three hours' sleep before I went to Salem to see Laura.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was just after seven the next morning when I pulled my car into a guest parking spot in front of a parkside condo complex. I got out and looked around. The complex didn't look more than
three or four years old, designed in a country French style, three condos to each building, all of them garnished with pale gray wooden siding. The park was quite pretty, all pine and spruce trees, and playgrounds for kids, and even a pond for ducks and lily pads. As I walked into the complex, I saw a swimming pool off to the left, a clubhouse, and a small golf course. I remembered Laura saying that the library didn't pay much.

  That was interesting. This place wasn't cheap.

  Laura Scott opened the door and blinked at me as T said, "Nice digs."

  "Mac, what are you doing here?"

  "Why didn't you go to see Jilly yesterday? You told me you were going to visit her."

  She just shook her head at me. It made her long hair swing and lift. She was wearing nice-fitting jeans and a loose T-shirt, and running shoes on her feet. I thought she looked elegant and sexy.

  "Come in, Mac. Would you like a cup of coffee? It'll take me just a few minutes to brew."

  "Yeah," I said and, having no choice, followed her into one of the most beautiful homes I'd ever been in.

  The foyer was small, tiled with country peach-shaded pavers and whimsical accent tiles of French country scenes. Off to the left was a beautiful oak staircase leading upstairs. I followed her through an archway into a living room that was octagonal-shaped, giving it complexity with lots of nooks and crannies. There were bright colors everywhere, window seats, small flashes of scarlet pillows, and richly colored South Seas-patterned material on a sectional sofa. There were lamps and chairs and small groupings and nearly every inch of the room was filled with something extravagant, brightly colored, and utterly useless. It coaxed you right in.

  There were plants and flowers everywhere. A mynah bird stood on the back of a chair watching me. He squawked, then began poking under his wing feathers.

  "That's Nolan," Laura said. "He doesn't talk-which is probably a good thing-just squawks occasionally."