Murder by Proxy

  As she looked around, she spotted a shiny black car half a block away. In this neighborhood of minivans and four-wheel-drive vehicles, it was unusual to see a new or sporty car, let alone have it parked on the street. Residents usually garaged their cars or pulled into the driveways. The rear and side windows of this one were darkly tinted, so she couldn't see if anyone was in it. Probably visiting. She shrugged, raised her coat collar against a wind which had picked up and become cooler, and with one hand holding down her hat, headed off in the opposite direction.

  Not liking to be late even for an informal appointment such as this one, she hurried toward the neighborhood shopping mall, thinking with some annoyance of Albert returning the rental car to the airport when he'd left. She had wanted to keep the car, but he had decided she wouldn't need it. He reasoned that Grant would do the grocery shopping. Besides, Edna didn't know the city and was no longer used to heavy traffic and highway driving, since Albert chauffeured them whenever they went out.

  “What if there's an emergency?” she had asked.

  “Dial 911,” Albert responded.

  “Or call me on my cell phone and I'll come home. I'm only a half hour away,” Grant interjected.

  She knew her son wanted to be helpful, but he hadn't aided her cause with that suggestion.

  “Besides, Sweetheart, I'd worry about you if I thought you were driving around this big city by yourself.” Albert had ended the discussion and hugged her warmly before leaving to catch his plane.

  She thought of the navy blue 4-Runner Grant had driven to work last week. Since Monday it had been sitting in the garage under a dust cover. Maybe she would ask him if he would lend her the Celica, and he could use the SUV. She didn't relish the thought of driving around a strange city in a large, unfamiliar car, but she could manage fine in the smaller one.

  She could always get another rental using her credit card, if Grant didn't like the idea of her using his car. I’m surprised Albert left me alone to care for Karissa and Jillian if he feels I’m that helpless, she thought, beginning to fume, not for the first time since Albert's hurried departure.

  Aware of her growing agitation, she forced her mind off the subject and concentrated on her meeting with Ernie. She didn't know if she would, or even could, be of help to him, but she was intrigued with his story and wanted to hear more. Who was this Anita Collier? Edna mentally reviewed some of what she had learned so far. As her thoughts sorted out the information, she began to feel queasy. Anita had been a friend of Michele, and now Michele was dead. Apparently, so were Anita's parents and another of her friends, Lia Martin. Thinking of the mystery novels she'd read and crime stories she'd watched on television, Edna reminded herself that in those stories characters were always saying there was no such thing as a coincidence. Could all these fatal accidents somehow be connected? If they were, Anita was certainly a link.

  She felt her unease grow. What about Anita herself? Is she another victim? If she's alive, why hasn't anyone seen or heard from her?

  As she carefully traversed the busy parking lot, heading for the market, Edna tried to think more positively. She would wait to hear what Ernie had to say. Approaching the automatic doors, she glanced at her watch, wondering if he might have given up on her and left.

  Inside, sounds of conversation, the blip of electronic scanners and hum of conveyor belts assaulted Edna's ears. Slightly out of breath, she paused, looking around for the deli section and the small eating area he had said she would find. Dodging carts and baggers at the end of the checkout lines, she finally spotted the detective sitting at a small table, a Styrofoam coffee cup in front of him. As she came closer, he stood, relief plain on his face.

  “Did you think I wasn't coming?” she asked, unbuttoning her coat.

  “It had crossed my mind,” he said, indicating she should sit on the anchored swivel chair across from him. “One thing I've learned is that women are never predictable.”

  She studied his face for a minute, but before she could determine if he was joking or not, he said, “Want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I'm fine. I've just finished lunch.” She slipped off her coat and laid it on the stool beside her before sitting across from him. “I haven't much time, so you'd better finish telling me about Anita. You said her parents died in a car accident. Are you certain it was an accident?” She thought again of Michele's skiing fatality and Lia's hit-and-run.

  “It's what the neighbors said. I have no reason to think otherwise.”

  “Do you know what happened or how it happened?”

  “I've been more concerned about finding the daughter. I can get details from her, if I need to know,” he said, sounding defensive.

  “Another car accident,” Edna mused. “Do you think there might be a connection between the Colliers and Lia's death?” Silently she wondered, or Michele’s death?

  “I don't know what to think yet. I've only been on this case a couple of days. All I know is I can't find Anita Collier. The police are on the lookout for the vehicle that plowed into the Martin woman. I have a friend on the force who will let me know if they find it. My job is to track down Anita, not find the driver who killed Lia.” His voice held a note of what Edna felt was desperation.

  Prompted by curiosity, she made a mental note to visit the library and see if she could find some back newspapers. A car accident resulting in a double fatality would certainly have appeared in one of the community weekly papers, if not the daily paper. If she was in luck, and Anita had paid the extra expense, she might even find an obituary for the Colliers. Aloud, she said, “You mentioned a great-aunt dying. What's that all about?”

  “Elizabeth Collier Maitland. She's the reason my client, her lawyer, has been trying to reach Anita's father.”

  Edna shook her head. “This is all very confusing.”

  Leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table between them, Ernie said, “I'll try to tell it like my client told me.” He paused for a minute as if to regroup his thoughts before continuing. “The Collier family originally came from upstate New York, somewhere around Rochester, and apparently, they're rich as sin. Elizabeth never had children, and her brother had only the one son. That was Harrington, Anita's father,” he added.

  “When he was in his early twenties, Harrington had a falling out with the family. My client isn't certain about the details, but Harrington's father disowned his son. Harrington left the area, never to be heard from again.”

  “How terrible,” Edna murmured, thinking how miserable she would be if she lost contact with one of her children.

  “Yes, well, apparently Mrs. Maitland has known for some time that Harrington has been living in Denver. For years, she had hopes he would someday contact her, but recently she suffered two heart attacks and can no longer wait for him to make the first move. She wants a reconciliation but figures Harrington must be as pig-headed as his father. As an incentive, she's stipulated in her will that if her nephew comes to see her before she dies, he will inherit her estate, estimated at roughly ten million dollars.”

  Ernie paused as if to let the amount register with Edna, who merely raised her eyebrows and nodded for him to continue.

  “If Harrington refuses to reconcile with his aunt, the estate goes to The Quinn Foundation, an organization for the care of homeless animals, headed by Mrs. Maitland's veterinarian, Louis Quinn. My client says Mrs. Maitland has two dogs, three cats and six exotic birds, and she's worried about their welfare after she's gone. He also says this Quinn fellow has ingratiated himself with the rich widow, and my client doesn't trust the vet as far as he can spit.”

  Trying to make sense of what she was hearing, Edna said, “But since Harrington is dead, doesn't that already mean Dr. Quinn will inherit everything?”

  “My client says not. According to Mrs. Maitland's will, it can be Harrington or, if the aunt survives him, any of his offspring. Obviously, that means Anita, but she must show up in person. That's the kicker. If she doesn't present herself be
fore her great-aunt passes, then the vet gets it all.” Ernie paused briefly before continuing. “Because of the old lady's fragile condition, my client hasn't mentioned the nephew's death to her yet. He thinks if we can bring Harrington's daughter to Mrs. Maitland, it might make the news of the nephew's death less of a shock. That's why I have to find Anita as soon as possible. Docs don't give Mrs. Maitland much longer to live.”

  Edna remembered Grant's concern that Anita was hiding purposely. She thought of Anita's friends and family, too many of them dead under mysterious circumstances. Is Ernie telling the truth, or is this an elaborate story to win my sympathy and assistance? Is he really working for Mrs. Maitland’s lawyer or for Dr. Quinn? Or could he be working for Anita’s husband? Does he want to find Anita to send her to New York or to prevent her from getting to her great-aunt’s bedside or neither? Edna's head was beginning to ache as she tried to separate her son's suspicions from this earnest stranger's pleas.

  “Why are you doing this?” she finally asked aloud. “If you don't take cases involving people, why are you so determined to pursue this woman? Why not turn it over to the police, report her as a missing person?”

  Ernie hesitated, looking at the Styrofoam cup he was mutilating with his fingers. After a long moment he raised his eyes to hers, looking defensive. “Look, I'm not out to stiff anyone, but if I can reunite an old woman with the only relative she's got left, if I can help to make her last days happy, my client will pay me well.” He frowned and pursed his lips, looking down at the now demolished cup. In a voice so low that she almost didn't catch the words, he said, “And I can sure use the money right now.”

  Edna thought about his answer for a few minutes before replying. If his story were true, the important thing was to find Anita and get her to New York. But if Grant's feelings were correct, Anita could be walking into a trap. If Edna were to help Ernie, maybe she could make certain no harm came to the young woman. Remembering Grant's story of how Anita had cared for Michele and Jillian, Edna felt she should repay some of that kindness. If she could help at all, and if there really was a dying great-aunt, Edna wanted to see that Anita got safely to New York. Whatever else was involved, this Mrs. Maitland was the only relative Anita had left. In a moment of fantasy, Edna pictured herself accompanying the young woman to her great-aunt's deathbed.

  The thought of flying brought Edna back to her senses. She had been on an airplane only once in her life, and that had been last week. Because of the urgency of her husband's request, she had proven to herself that she could overcome this particular fear, but that didn't mean she'd enjoyed the experience. Forcing the memory from her mind, she said, “Okay. Assuming I won't be able to get any more information out of Grant than you have, how do we go about finding Anita? Where would we even begin to look for her?”

  Ernie's face lit up at her implied collusion before his frown reappeared. “That's the odd thing. She seems to be everywhere but nowhere. The only thing I've done so far is leave messages on her answering machine. That's how I knew Grant had changed the recording. Since she hasn't called me back, I don't even know if she's gotten the messages.”

  “Not calling someone back is not unusual,” Edna said. “I don't return calls if I don't recognize the name. Too many sales people leave messages as if they were long lost friends.” She thought for several seconds before continuing. “You've been to her home?” It was more a question than a statement.

  “Several times. Her parents' next-door neighbor gave me Anita's address and the picture. She seemed worried. Said Anita had mentioned taking some time off work so she could go through the house, box up personal papers, take clothes to Goodwill. You know, stuff like that. According to the neighbor, Anita wanted to put the house up for sale as quickly as possible, but the neighbor hasn't seen any activity around the place since around the time of the Colliers' funeral. Said she'd tried calling Anita at home and on her cell phone, but she hasn't been able to reach her.

  “After talking to the neighbor, I went to Anita's condo and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I even staked out the place for a few nights. It's a big complex, mostly young singles, lots of comings and goings „til pretty late. Things pick up again about six in the morning when people start leaving for work. None of the neighbors I talked to pay much attention to other units, so I didn't learn anything from them. I noticed Anita's lights go on and off in different rooms at different times, but my guess is they're on timers.”

  “What about her mail? Wouldn't that be stacked up or her mailbox overflowing? Maybe you could check with her postal service.”

  “She rents a post office box. So far, I haven't been able to find out if she's picked up her mail or not or if she requested a hold.”

  “Maybe she changed her mind about taking time off and has gone back to work. Some people seem to need the distractions of a job after a major tragedy in their lives. Have you found out anything at her office?”

  “Before Grant had me thrown out, you mean?” Ernie's eyes twinkled, taking some of the sting out of his words. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did, but it didn't do me much good. Her paycheck gets deposited automatically, so she doesn't have to come in to pick it up on payday. I checked with the utility companies, but all her bills are paid automatically through her bank.” He lowered his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “I swear people's lives run on autopilot these days.”

  Edna nodded in agreement before speaking. “So what makes you think she's missing? She might be working. From what my son tells me, she covers a wide and pretty desolate territory.”

  “That's where you can help me out. If you can't get Grant to tell you where she is, maybe you could go to his office and ask around. See if anyone's heard from her or maybe get names of some of the customers she would contact?” He smiled ruefully. “I'd go myself, but thanks to Grant, I'm no longer welcome around his workplace.”

  While she was thinking about how she might arrange to go to Grant's office and spy behind his back, the phone in her purse began to play the jaunty little tune he had selected when he'd programmed his family's numbers into the instrument. Looking at her watch as she reached for the cell, she was astounded to realize it was nearing three o'clock, the time Jillian usually got home from school. Feeling certain it was Karissa calling, Edna didn't look at the caller's ID before answering.

  “Yes, dear, I'm on my way home right now.”

  “Edna?” Albert's voice, sounding confused. “Is that you, Edna?”

  “Albert?” Surprised to hear from her husband in the middle of the afternoon, Edna was momentarily at a loss for words.

  “What do you mean you're on your way home? Where are you?”

  “I'm at the grocery store near Grant's house. I thought you were Karissa.”

  Just then a young woman approached their table, stooping to pick Ernie's hat up off the floor. “Is this yours, sir,” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Ernie said, retrieving the crumpled item from the woman. “Must have dropped it. Thanks.”

  “Who's that?” Albert's voice sounded in Edna's ear. “Doesn't sound like Grant. Who are you with at the grocery store?”

  She didn't want to go into a lengthy explanation right then, so she improvised. “Sorry, dear, but you seem to be breaking up. Let me get back to the house. I'll call you later.” Without waiting for a reply, she pushed the disconnect button.

  Five

  Edna agreed to let Ernie drive her back to the house, although she worried that either Karissa or Jillian would see her with him. If word got back to Grant, he would be very angry. Really, I must have my own car, she thought as they neared her son's address.

  “Do you think you can scout around Office Plus for me?” Ernie's voice broke into her thoughts as he stopped in front of the house.

  Guilt about being with him in the first place made her hesitate at the thought of sneaking around Grant's place of business, but only until she considered the missing young woman. She held a picture of
Lia in her mind—had the funeral been only this morning?—and coupled it with the small photo of Anita that Ernie had given to her. Mentally, she put the two young women side by side with her own youngest daughter Starling. What would she do if Starling were missing? Edna's heart lurched.

  Anita needs to be found. I don’t care what Grant’s motive is for keeping quiet or Ernie’s for tracking her, I want her found. I want to know she’s alive and well, Edna thought.

  Anxious to get away, but realizing there was still much she wanted to know, she said, “Perhaps I can arrange something. How will I contact you?”

  “I'll have to call you. I'm in the process of changing my mobile service, and I don't have my new phone yet.”

  “Do you have an office?”

  “It's in the basement of my house, but I'm out most of the time. You won't get me there.”

  “Don't you have an answering machine? I could leave a message.”

  “My wife usually answers the phone, but she's been sick lately, and I don't want her disturbed. No, I'd better call you.”

  Wondering if he were making himself purposely unavailable, Edna pulled a scrap of paper from her tote bag and scribbled down her cell phone number.

  Pocketing the bit of paper, Ernie grabbed her arm as she was about to get out of the car. “I'll put a list together of things I want you to find out. Can you meet me back at Safeway in the morning, say around nine o'clock?”