Death with a Dark Red Rose

by Julia Buckley

  “I just made these,” he said. “I’m good at making things in the kitchen. You can all have one.” He set down the tray and then started to walk into the next room.

  “Carl,” Doug said, his voice mellowed by perhaps one degree. “Come back and sit with us. I want to talk to you.”

  Carl hesitated, then looked at Belinda. She nodded. “Come on back and meet my friends.”

  He strode back to the table, looking uncomfortable. He sat down at the far end, and Belinda took up her story. “Carl said he wanted to show me something, and could I come with him. He implied it would only take a minute, which is why I didn’t leave a note or anything. I’m so sorry,” she said to Doug, who was playing with her hair and kissing her cheek every now and then.

  “I was telling the truth,” Carl said. “I was going to just take you over to Plasti-Source, but then I felt like they’d be watching us, and I tried to think of someplace private. So I drove here.”

  Belinda frowned. “Yes, Carl drove here, despite my protests, and we are still working that out.”

  Doug scowled in Carl’s direction. “Something you should know, Carl, is that I love your sister, and you scared us all to death. We thought someone had kidnapped her. And essentially that’s what you did. I could charge you with abduction.”

  Carl’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Clearly, he had not anticipated this response, and he looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I guess I just figured—I’d have her back by afternoon, so what was the big deal?”

  Doug’s frown was Olympian in scope, but Sam held up a hand. “You were picturing Belinda living alone, being kind of an introvert, right? But she’s made a lot of new friends over the last year.” He pointed around the table at Belinda’s new friends. “And when she’s not with her real family, we’re her family.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened, and the smile she sent Sam was full of gratitude. Then she frowned at her brother. “But aside from that, I told you I had to be back, and you simply disregarded me. That’s not okay, Carl.”

  Carl shifted in his chair, restless as the princess on a pea. Doug frowned. “Why did you lie when we got here? Why did you say Belinda wasn’t here?”

  The boy shrugged. “You said you were the police. You didn’t say you were her friends or anything. I didn’t want the police bothering her.”

  “Oh, Carl,” Belinda said, her tone a mixture of frustration and indulgence.

  Doug had sliced off a piece of his caramel apple with a pocketknife and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened, and he said, “My God, that’s good.”

  Carl smiled for the first time and I realized what a handsome boy he was. “I’m a really good cook,” he said. “I watch all the cooking shows.”

  “Carl’s trying to get on one of them,” Belinda said, her pride overriding her anger. “One of those shows like Top Chef or something.”

  Sam and I both tried our apples, and Doug was right. They were amazing; Carl had obviously made his own caramel mixture, and it was like nothing I’d ever tasted—buttery and fruity all at once. “Oh wow, Carl!” I said, and he bestowed his handsome smile on me as well.

  Doug took another bite, then held up a hand. “Okay, I’m glad to have found Belinda, and I appreciate the snack, but I think you owe us all an explanation, Carl. Why did you bring Belinda here, and what does it have to do with Plasti-Source?”

  Carl shifted in his chair and sent a look to Belinda. He seemed to be seeking guidance. Belinda nodded, her green eyes calm and wise. “Tell him, Carl. He can help.”

  “Help with what?” Doug said.

  Carl got up, poured himself some coffee, and sat back down. “I have a problem about one of my friends. A mystery, I guess you’d say.”

  “We’re good at solving those,” I said.

  Carl looked at me with the face of a worried boy. “He’s a guy I work with at Plasti-Source. His name is Luis. We like to hang out at lunch and just shoot the breeze. He doesn’t care that I’m younger than he is. We both like the same stuff: reading history books, really all books for Luis, and cooking, and playing video games, and working in the garden. We just hit it off right away.”

  Sam put a friendly hand on Carl’s thin arm. “And what’s the problem with Luis?”

  Carl frowned into his coffee, then looked at Sam with troubled eyes. “He’s disappeared.”

  4

  Readers ask me where my ideas come from. I’ve never quite known the answer to that, but I can assure you that they come in droves. They always have.

  —From the notebooks of Camilla Graham

  DOUG WAS CUTTING another piece of his apple. “What do you mean, he’s disappeared? If he didn’t show up to work—”

  “He didn’t,” Carl said. “Which isn’t like him. He’s got what my dad calls a good work ethic. He’s always early, and he stays until no one needs him. And he’s real devoted to his wife and stuff.”

  “Maybe he’s home with his wife,” Sam suggested gently, studying his coffee cup.

  Carl turned to him, thin and nervous. “I went to his house in Blue Lake, days ago. His wife was there; her name is Elena. She said he wasn’t around, but she didn’t expect him because they had a fight.”

  This seemed like a strange echo of what Doug had told us about his fight with Belinda and her subsequent disappearance; he and Belinda exchanged a secret glance, perhaps in acknowledgment of this.

  Doug looked troubled. “Well, it’s his wife who would have to report him missing, Carl.”

  “She’s lying,” Carl said, thrusting out his chin.

  “Why do you think that?” Despite himself, Doug seemed intrigued by Carl’s story.

  Carl jumped up again to retrieve the coffeepot; he returned and started topping off everyone’s cup. His brows were furrowed with anger or concentration. “I don’t think it, I know it. You have to know Luis. He’s the nicest guy, really soft-spoken and kind. He and I sometimes played video games together at this place in Stafford, and he was always spotting me tokens and stuff. He knew I liked cooking shows, so he got me a cookbook once with recipes from The Great British Baking Show. For no reason, just because I liked it.”

  My eyes went to Belinda, who was studying her brother with a mixture of love and concern. Then I said, “Carl, he sounds like a great guy. But why does that mean his wife is lying?”

  Carl looked at me with interested green eyes. “My boss at work says he’s not going to hunt Luis down. They’re all saying it—the big bosses and even the guys we work with from day to day. Joe and Gino said Luis has pulled stuff like this before, and so Phil Enderby said as far as he’s concerned, Luis is fired. So I went to Elena, and she said Luis and she fought, and she’s not expecting him back in the near future. It seems like the only one who misses Luis is me. That’s fishy.”

  To my surprise, Doug leaned forward almost eagerly. “You know what, Carl? That is fishy. Did you think he was the type to wander off?”

  Carl shook his head. “No. He liked going home and watching TV every night, just like most people. Elena is a great cook, he said, and he looked forward to eating her dinner and watching cop shows on TV. He even told me once he hated traveling. He said it was lots of driving or flying just to see a few things far away, and the whole time you’re wishing to sit in your own house and relax. He just likes being in his own space, but suddenly he’s gone.”

  Sam was starting to look interested, too. “You said Luis lives in Blue Lake?” He turned to the cop at the table. “That’s your jurisdiction, Doug.”

  Doug nodded. “But clearly I won’t have a missing persons report. Still . . . it would give me a great reason to march into Plasti-Source and get the lay of the land in there.” He turned to Carl. “What’s that company like?”

  Carl shrugged. “They’re okay. They pay pretty good. No one’s super friendly. It’s not one of those companies
where everyone is encouraged to go out together after work or anything. Luis was the only friendly one to me. He and I both work in IT. When I got hired I was just an entry-level clerk, but they kept needing me to solve their computer problems. So I got promoted.”

  I was almost finished with my caramel apple and wondering if I could ask Carl for another one. Sam saw my yearning expression and grinned at me. “Carl,” I said. “Does Luis have a phone? Have you tried texting or calling him?”

  Carl sighed. “Yeah. It just goes to his voicemail over and over. Which is also weird. Luis loves his phone. He was always playing games on it, and whenever I sent a text, he answered it.”

  Again, this seemed like a repetition of what we had gone through with Belinda. “And his wife didn’t seem concerned about him? Even if she was angry, she would want to know where he was, wouldn’t she?”

  Carl nodded. “I know something is wrong. Because even if he didn’t contact his wife, I think Luis would contact me. We’re always texting each other jokes and GIFs and stuff. He has this funny laugh, and he loves jokes. I sent him a couple on the first day he lost contact and never heard back. Now I haven’t heard from him in five days. Almost a week. It’s just weird.”

  A sudden thought struck me. “Belinda. Wasn’t there a guy in our last Blue Lake book club meeting named Luis? The dark-haired guy who sat by the door? We were discussing Great Expectations. He had found all the humorous parts and laughed about them.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened. “I think you’re right. I can look him up—we all signed in. I think we had a total of fourteen people for that discussion.”

  Carl leaned forward. “That sounds like him. He loved to read; he always had a book with him. Sometimes he listened to them on his phone. But he said he read less since he met me because we were always talking.”

  “Camilla is going to be sorry she wasn’t here,” I murmured to Sam. “She loves a good mystery in real life, too, not just in the books she writes.”

  The words elicited a shocked look from Carl. “You know a writer named Camilla? What’s her last name?”

  “Graham.”

  Carl slapped the table. “I read her books. I’ve read a ton of her books. I was getting Luis to read them, too.”

  “Aren’t they great?” I said.

  Carl nodded. Then he said, “Are you Lena London? That new lady who writes with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow! You guys are famous!”

  I smiled, and Sam touched my hand. “Camilla is,” I said. “Very famous.”

  Doug studied the wood table for a while. Finally, he said, “I’m going to look into this, Carl. I’m very curious about Luis as well. And about the company where you both work.”

  Carl’s face melted into relief, and suddenly he was emotional. “I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I’m sorry I took away Belinda and didn’t let her call anyone. I was worried about Luis and I didn’t take my pills. I’ve taken them every day, but I didn’t take them this week, and then I got caught up in wanting her help and wanting to talk to her alone and thinking about the cabin. I got caught up in it.” His lashes held tiny pinpricks of tears; I felt answering tears forming in my own eyes.

  Belinda said, “It’s okay, Carl. But you have to take the pills when we get back. I mean right away.”

  “I know.” Carl wiped at his eyes. “I’m sorry to everyone.”

  Doug offered a genuine smile. “Carl? I didn’t want to meet you this way, but it’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out a hand, and Carl shook it with a shy smile. “I don’t suppose you have any food that resembles lunch in that fridge?”

  Carl beamed. “I do! I stopped at Peabody’s on the way into town. Belinda was so mad at me. But I can make a real good lunch that I saw Gordon Ramsay make.”

  “Well, if Gordon Ramsay made it,” Sam joked.

  And just like that the tension was defused. I texted Camilla to tell her that all was well, and Doug made Belinda call her parents to tell them the same. Carl practically skipped into the kitchen and wrapped an apron around his waist. I wandered to the giant wall of books and saw that one of the Fraileys (and I thought I knew which) had arranged the books in order of genre, and then alphabetically within those sections. I was drawn to the mystery section, which contained three old Camilla Graham titles, and to the classics section, which was well stocked with Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, and the Brontës.

  “Hey, bookworm,” Sam said behind me. “Want a caramel-flavored kiss?”

  “When don’t I want that?” I said.

  Sam bent to press his lips to mine. “Mmm,” he said.

  “You were right about everything,” I said. “You told Doug that she would be here, that everything would be fine, that he would feel relief and joy. Look at him.”

  We turned to look out the window, where Doug and Belinda were talking animatedly in the front yard. Doug impulsively picked her up and spun her around, and they both laughed like children. “That’s joy, all right,” Sam said.

  “You’re like a wise old mariner,” I said.

  “I am old,” Sam said.

  “Oh yes. Old man of thirty-six.”

  “The pendulum has swung back.” Sam continued to study Belinda and Doug out in the bright yard. “But this story has me troubled. Things don’t sound good for Luis.”

  “I don’t know. We learned today that missing people can be found.”

  “Let’s hope so.” He turned and shifted his attention to the bookshelves. “What looks good?”

  “Everything! I wonder if the Fraileys have a lending library. They have a great history section over on the last shelf. A couple of books about the Native Americans. And one huge one about World War I.”

  “Sounds intriguing.” He scanned the room. “Between the books and Carl’s food, a person could spend an enjoyable weekend here.”

  In fact, a delicious aroma was emanating from the kitchen, along with the sounds of pots clanging and Carl’s melodic humming. “I did not expect to be dining in Michigan today. But I’m glad. This was the most positive outcome we could have imagined.”

  Doug and Belinda came back in and stomped their feet on the doormat. Their cheeks were rosy, their eyes bright. Sam and I exchanged a glance and silently agreed that whatever argument had existed between them had now been resolved.

  Soon we were again seated at the table, and again Carl was feeding us—this time chicken parmesan sandwiches on crusty bread. “I don’t have beer or anything,” Carl said. “I don’t really drink. But I have fresh cider.”

  “That’s perfect, Carl,” Belinda said.

  Carl stood over us for a moment, looking around the table. “I’ll just say a basic blessing over you,” he said, and murmured a prayer that we could barely hear. Then he went back in the kitchen.

  Belinda said, “For a while Carl thought he might want to be a priest. He’s very spiritual.”

  “He’s great, Belinda, and very handsome. And he looks so much like you! Does your other brother resemble you, too?” I asked.

  She nodded. “We all look kind of similar, we Fraileys.”

  Sam was already eating his sandwich. “This is amazing,” he said. “Adam should hire this kid at Wheat Grass.”

  Belinda’s eyes brightened. “Oh my gosh, that’s a perfect idea! Wheat Grass is such a sophisticated restaurant—Carl’s always admired it.”

  “I’m sure we could arrange an interview, since we are all good friends with the proprietor,” I said. “By the way, I need to tell Camilla that I saw her books on the shelf here. I hope she doesn’t mind that I keep bugging her. I know she and Adam are having their little romantic getaway.”

  “She loves it when you text her,” Sam said.

  “I need to text Adam, too. We’re right in the midst of planning Camilla’s party. You all know it’s at the end of the month, right? I came here las
t year right after she turned sixty-nine. This year—seventy—is such a momentous birthday, and Adam and I want to make it special.”

  “Do you need us to help with anything?” Doug asked, looking at his plate. He, too, seemed quite enamored with his sandwich.

  “I think Adam and I have it covered. He’s providing the Wheat Grass main room, of course, and we have been planning all sorts of little surprises. It gave me something to do while I was recuperating.” I pointed vaguely at my arm. Doug and Sam grew solemn; they both hated to think of the car crash that had nearly killed Camilla and me in the summer. I realized it might be best to change the subject.

  “I have a lot of texting to do, and not just to Adam. I’ll do that while you drive home, Sam.”

  Doug finished his last bite and cast a longing expression at his empty plate. “That was amazing. And speaking of driving home, we need to do that. My fall outing is ruined, but I can still treat my Belinda to a nice evening in Blue Lake.”

  “That sounds great,” Belinda said with a smile.

  Moments later we were helping to clear the table and carrying dishes into the kitchen, where all five of us collaborated on washing, drying, and putting away. We had made it our unspoken goal to put Carl at ease, and by the end of our KP duty he was laughing and joking with Sam and Doug as though they had grown up together.

  Belinda smiled at this from a corner of the kitchen where she was sorting silverware. Her eyes met mine, and I gave her a thumbs-up. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and grinned back at me, and I was struck by how attractive she was, how she had blossomed as a woman in love. I wondered if she and Doug would get married, or if now at least she would tell him that she loved him, too . . .

  “Lena?” Sam said. “Are you ready?”

  “What? Oh, sure. We have two cars; how are we dividing passengers?”