The three years Rebecca had spent with Vernon had been mostly happy. She’d always been a serious person, and no one had expected her to ever marry. She was eight years older than Mindy, but at times the years between them seemed more. Mindy was carefree and daring, while Rebecca was studious and cautious. Mindy was also pretty and sexy, and Rebecca, merely neat and attractive. Many men had pursued Mindy, while Rebecca had had only a few suitors.
Vernon Armfield had changed her life. When he first came to work at Davidson Industries as the assistant general manager, Mindy decided she would show him the town. They did go out a few times, but soon Vernon spent more time in the accounting office where Rebecca worked than on the tennis courts with Mindy. At first Rebecca thought Mindy had tired of him and he had come to her for comfort, but she soon realized that wasn’t the case. He wanted to spend time with her. He took her to concerts, to plays, and even on picnics. Her father was pleased. Vernon was a good catch, and Walter Davidson was happy to see the ambitious young man pursue his eldest daughter.
“Reminds me of myself when I was his age,” her father often said.
When they caught the general manager of the company using company supplies to start a small business of his own, Walter promoted Vernon into the position, and he excelled at the job. In a short period of time, company sales increased by almost twenty-five percent. Walter was delighted and made no secret of the fact that when he retired, he wanted Vernon to take his place.
The next six months brought two events Rebecca would never forget. On a Saturday night in February, Vernon asked her to marry him. She said yes to the delight of her father, and to her surprise, her sister seemed happy about the news, too. But her elation subsided when a week later, Walter Davidson had a massive heart attack and could no longer run the business.
Rebecca quit her job to stay home with him, and Vernon stepped into his shoes. The company continued to grow and prosper. Playing off the opening of the Dickens book, A Tale of Two Cites, Rebecca often told people that was both the best and the worst year of her life.
She and Vernon married in May, and in July, her father died. She never did return to a full shift at work after his death, because Vernon insisted she stay home and concentrate on being his wife. She worked enough to keep her hand in the business, but both of them were happy with her at home.
The present year had turned into another bad one for Rebecca. Two months after their second anniversary, she lost the child she’d prayed for. All of her doctors told her she would’ve never carried the child to term, even if she hadn’t fallen. Rebecca believed them. She also believed them when they told her that at thirty-six, she should give up the idea of becoming a mother and allow them to perform a total hysterectomy. The endometriosis she’d suffered had been terrible, and it wasn’t getting any better.
Knowing she would never have a child was hard for Rebecca to accept, and even with Vernon’s approval and support, she became depressed. A small breakdown, her doctor called it, and he recommended Vernon check her into a hospital. He refused. Instead, he hired nurses and doctors to be at their home around the clock. Mindy also spent a lot of time with Rebecca.
The only leftover fringes of that event now were the nights she couldn’t sleep because of her dreams about babies. She kept waiting for them to completely subside.
Wilma came into the room with a tray laden with breakfast foods, bringing Rebecca back to the present. She slipped into her pink and white silk robe and moved to the small table in the alcove by the window.
“I brought you some fresh fruit and took the liberty of making you French toast, Ms. Rebecca. I know how much you like it,” the maid said.
“That’s nice, Wilma.”
“How are you feeling this morning, ma’am?”
“Surprisingly well.”
“That’s good. I was afraid you were sleeping in because you didn’t sleep last night.”
“I slept almost all night, Wilma. I don’t know why I slept so late this morning. Maybe I needed the extra rest because I didn’t sleep much the night before. I feel really good this morning.” Rebecca almost added, Please don’t be so careful with me. So I had a little breakdown six months ago... I feel fine now. Instead she said, “The French toast is tasty, Wilma.”
The telephone rang. The maid answered it and then turned to Rebecca. “It’s a Nick Quimbley. Do you want to talk to him?”
“Oh, yes. I do.” Rebecca put her fork down on the breakfast tray and took the phone from Wilma. “Good morning, Nick.”
“Good morning, Rebecca. I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“Not at all.”
“I wanted to see if you would accompany me to your sister’s condo this morning.”
“Of course. I want to find out where she is as soon as I can. Will you give me time to shower and get dressed?”
“Sure. Will an hour be long enough? “
“Perfect.”
“Good. I’ll be there in an hour. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Mr. Armfield.”
“You’ll have to call him at the office.” Rebecca gave him the number.
“Thank you, Rebecca. See you in an hour.” Nick hung up.
Rebecca turned to Wilma. “I went to school with Nick. I engaged his company to look into Mindy’s disappearance. I have a feeling he’ll find her soon.”
“I’m sure he will.” Wilma smiled at her employer. “I know you won’t rest until Miss Mindy is found.”
“You’re right. I want to know that she’s all right.” On impulse, she reached out and took Wilma’s hand. “Thank you so much for all you do for me.”
Wilma smiled and blushed. “It’s easy to be good to someone as nice as you, Ms. Rebecca.” She dropped Rebecca’s hand and headed for the door. “If you want anything else, you just ring me.”
“I will, Wilma.”
Chapter 9
After Nick hung up the phone, he stood to stretch his six-foot frame. Vernon Armfield had been at the office just like his wife had said. In fact, his secretary had pulled him out of a meeting. Nick didn’t know why he’d thought the man wouldn’t be in. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. There was something about the man Nick didn’t like. He had visions of Armfield going to Mindy’s place to destroy evidence before he had a chance to get there.
Ever since Gordon had tossed that piece of paper concerning Mindy Davidson’s disappearance on his desk, Nick had experienced flashbacks of his high school crush on Rebecca Davidson—he didn’t want to call her Armfield. The thoughts had been especially strong since he’d seen her yesterday. Nick knew he should probably ask someone to go with him and Rebecca to the condo, and he supposed guilt had made him ask Vernon. He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he was glad Armfield was too busy to come, though the man did ask Nick to call him if they found anything suspicious or anything that led them to believe something had happened to Mindy. He had asked Nick to do this before telling Rebecca. Apparently Vernon wanted to protect his wife.
Nick sat back down. He had a gut feeling this guy knew more than he was telling. Still, he seems to genuinely care about Rebecca. I don’t get it. He’s such a contradiction. I saw a coldness in his eyes he’d seen a thousand times in the eyes of criminals. Yet when he mentions his wife, he’s got another personality altogether. Aloud he added, “I wonder if he really loves her, or if that’s just an act.”
“Talking to yourself again, Nick?”
“Yeah, Bernie. You know I’m good at that.” Nick turned his chair around to face his partner.
Bernie Wheeler was nothing like the television detectives who always get the girl. He was a good fifty pounds overweight, with thinning red hair, horned rimmed glasses, and a rumpled suit. He was not at all handsome, though no matter where he went, he was a welcome addition to the crowd. He used his manner and appearance to his advantage and often infiltrated groups whenever the job called for it.
On impulse, Nick said, “I’ve got to go see if I can find any clues about
a missing person. Want to come along?”
“Sure. How long will it take?” Bernie flexed his arms, though they were more flab than muscle.
“I’m not sure. Depends on what we find.”
“Can’t ride with you then. I’ll take my car in case we don’t get through in time. I have one of those damn dentist appointments this morning. I hate to go, but it’s an evil I can’t avoid.”
“I don’t care much for going to the dentist either.”
“By the way, who’s the missing person?”
“Mindy Davidson.”
Bernie whistled. “You don’t say?”
“You know her?” Nick raised an eyebrow.
Bernie shrugged. “Seen her a few times. Good looking gal.”
“Have you seen her lately?”
“It hasn’t been too long. A week or so ago, she was in a bar I went to with some guys when Arlene was visiting her Mom.”
“Was she alone?”
“Let me think.” He frowned. “No, I think she was with someone. Don’t remember if it was a guy or a gal.”
“Think about it. See if it comes back to you.”
“I can do that. Where are we going?”
Nick gave him the address. “I have to pick up the missing person’s sister, a Mrs. Armfield. Give me about a ten minute head start.”
“Will do.”
Chapter 10
South Port, on the Eastern coast of North Carolina, was lucky. Though it had sustained some damage from the recent hurricane, it had managed to escape the encroachment of developers who seemed hell bent on destroying most of the shoreline from Charleston to North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Some of the neighboring areas hadn’t been so lucky. Bald Head Island, visible from South Port’s waterfront park, was being developed into a prestigious area for the professional elite. Holden Beach to the south, though still considered a family beach, had also caved and given in to building condos and waterfront homes.
The town of South Port was located on the Cape Fear River, although looking across the span of water, one might think it was the ocean. A town steeped in history, with its antebellum homes, naval museum, and authentic antique shops, South Port seemed an unlikely place for a beautiful, mysterious body to turn up. But it had.
Ross Taylor found the dead woman when he was out for his usual morning run. He probably wouldn’t have seen her at all if he hadn’t been nursing a hangover. He’d run the area of the waterfront park and turned onto Bay Street, then Kingsley and up East Moore beside the Old Smithfield Burying Grounds.
Winded, he moved to the side of the graveyard and leaned on the old fence in the shade of a large magnolia tree. Wishing he’d brought his water bottle, he scanned the old cemetery for a spigot he might use. That was when he saw her.
At first, he was too stunned to move, but soon something compelled him to step into the graveyard and walk toward her body. For a few seconds, he thought she might be a drunk passed out there, but as he drew closer, he realized something was wrong.
She had been placed on top of a grave, with her left arm lying by her side and her right hand on her chest, the way a funeral parlor might lay out a corpse for burial. He didn’t have to get close to know the woman was dead.
What a waste. She was a real looker.
After staring in fascinated horror for several seconds, Ross came back to reality. He knew he had to do something but wasn’t sure what. Looking across the street, he saw no one.
He didn’t see anyone the other way either, but he knew the police station wasn’t far. Forgetting his thirst, he headed in that direction.
Chapter 11
Rebecca sat on the terrace while Nick and Bernie checked Mindy’s condo. She didn’t want to be inside in case they found something. Nick promised to keep her informed.
She couldn’t help thinking that Mindy was always getting herself into trouble, but so far she’d always managed to wiggle out of it. This time felt different. Mindy was either being held captive somewhere against her will, or she was dead.
With a start, Rebecca stood and walked to the edge of the patio, bent down, and pulled a weed from her sister’s petunias. Anything to keep her mind off the awful things that could have happened to her sister.
* * * *
Inside the condo, Nick Quimbley took a quick look around and decided Rebecca was right. There were no signs of a struggle. Poor housekeeping had caused the disarray. Nick also remembered that when Rebecca and her husband had mentioned the clutter in the condo, both had seemed to accept the notion that the elusive Mindy was somewhat of a slob.
After making a quick check of the kitchen, Nick moved into the bedroom where Bernie was opening a dresser drawer. “Find anything?”
“Not much,” Bernie pushed the drawer closed. “There are some porno films in the night stand and sex toys in the bathroom closet. She must have been into some kinky things.”
“That doesn’t really mean anything,” Nick said. “We all know people like that.”
“And some of them would surprise you.” Bernie chuckled.
“I’ve heard there are some people who—” Nick paused in mid-sentence, his gaze on Mindy’s pillow. “Look at this, Bernie.”
Bernie Wheeler straightened from his crouched position and came to stand beside Nick. “What is it?”
“Look at that spot on the pillow. Does it look like blood?”
“Could be.” Bernie bent over the pillow, careful not to touch it. “Looks like lipstick to me, though. Of course, it could be a spaghetti stain or some other kind of tomato sauce.”
“Lipstick I understand, but why would there be a tomato stain on a pillow?”
“Who knows?” Bernie shrugged. “Maybe she was eating tomato soup in bed.”
“I think I’ll have it checked out to be sure. Might be our first clue.”
“And that might be our second one.” Bernie pointed to the edge of the bed near the pillow.
“What is it?”
“A long black hair. If I’m not mistaken, Mindy Davidson is a blonde.”
Nick looked at the hair. He couldn’t help thinking to himself that Vernon Armfield’s hair was dirty blonde mixed with gray. Aloud, he said, “Rebecca might be right about her sister not being missing of her own accord. What do you think?”
“I agree.” Bernie looked at Nick. “What are you going to tell her?”
“She’s not the kind of person I like to lie to, but I’m going to spare her our suspicions as long as I can.”
“Sounds good to me. She seems like a nice lady.”
“She is.” Nick smiled.
Bernie cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Nick caught his expression. “She and I went to high school together.”
Bernie nodded, but said nothing else.
Nick figured Bernie had already guessed his interest in Rebecca was due to more than just being a helpful detective. Bernie Wheeler was good at reading facial expressions. So good, Nick found it downright scary. Bernie could often tell him what he was thinking before he thought it.
He decided not to elaborate any further about his relationship to Rebecca. Instead he said, “Do you need to get to your appointment?”
“I’ve got another hour.”
“If you want to look around here some more then, I’ll take Rebecca home. I don’t want her here if something turns up to indicate foul play.”
“I agree you should take her home. I’ll give you a call later.”
“Thanks Bernie.”
“Sure.” His friend grunted with that all knowing smile.
Chapter 12
“You found something, didn’t you?” Rebecca asked Nick once they were in the car.
He blinked. “What makes you ask that?”
“You’ve been quiet. As if you don’t want to tell me something.”
He started to lie, but when he glanced at her face he couldn’t do it. He decided to tell her as little as possible.
“I’m not sure what we found, Rebecca,”
he said in a soothing tone. “Bernie’s still looking around. So we’ll wait and see if he comes up with something.”
“If you didn’t think something was wrong, you wouldn’t have run me out of there and left Mr. Wheeler on his own.”
He smiled at her. “You’re a smart woman, Rebecca Davidson Armfield.”
“I try to be.” She half smiled back at him. “Some people try to shield me, but I know more about what’s going on than they think.”
Nick didn’t ask to whom she was referring. “We found a few things that may or may not be clues, but as I said, we’re not sure what it means.” He wasn’t going to tell her anything specific.
“Are you aware that my sister has a lot of strange friends?”
“Not really—but now that you’ve told me, I want to make sure none of them had a reason to help her leave town.”
“Nick—” She bit her lip. “You think Mindy’s dead, don’t you?”
“Why would you say that? I never make up my mind until I have all the facts. Mindy could be very much alive and having a ball on some nice beach in the Bahamas, for all we know.”
“Not without her bag.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. I’d stake my life on the fact that she’d never leave town without it unless she was forced to do so.”
“Do you think your sister’s dead?” Nick hadn’t wanted to ask her that, but knew he had to.
Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, my. I hope not. I keep thinking we might get a ransom note or something.” She wiped her eyes. “But I can’t help thinking things aren’t going to turn out like I want them to.”
Nick decided that if Mindy had come to some harm, Rebecca knew nothing about it. A wave of relief washed over him, but he refused to admit why. He would only say it had something to do with his suspicions about her husband.
To her, he said, “Ransom is a possibility.”
Rebecca paused, and then put her hand on his elbow.
“Nick,” she said. “Find out what happened to my sister. I don’t care what it takes. Please…just find out.”
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