Death By A Dark Horse

Chapter Twenty

  My first conscious thoughts puzzled over why I was at my aunt and uncle's, in bed, in my clothes, with daylight illuminating the drapes from behind. Not knowing what day it was also bothered me—along with some other vague worry I couldn't name.

  I washed my face, went into the kitchen, and mumbled a greeting to Aunt Vi and Uncle Henry, who were finishing lunch. I sat, lump-like, in my usual spot at the kitchen table. Before I knew it a steaming cup of tea appeared in front of me. I inhaled the sweet perfume of the Earl Grey, and sipped it slowly.

  "Did you get enough sleep?" Aunt Vi asked.

  "I think so." I yawned. "What day is this?"

  "Friday, love. Are you hungry?" I shook my head. "Juliet called a little while ago. She wanted to know where Delores is."

  "I don't know." The events of the previous evening and early morning sorted themselves out in my mind. "She didn't tell me her plans for today. Juliet's sure she's not somewhere at Copper Creek?"

  "Yes, she said she's been missing all morning."

  "She's not in her house?"

  "I think they checked. Everyone's worried."

  I thought again, sipping more tea. Coffee would kick-start me faster. My head was still woolly. Perhaps she had gone to the sheriff's office. But she'd told me to go. I couldn't think of any possible explanation. I'd have to look for myself.

  I left my aunt and uncle's, promising I would call them should I learn anything, and drove home. I brushed my teeth, changed clothes and drove to Copper Creek. Juliet watched my approach from the office window, her arms folded and a frown on her face.

  "Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?" she snapped as I walked in.

  "Gee, I'm sorry, Juliet." I laid on the sarcasm. "I was up late and then at the Sheriff's Office at four this morning."

  "Delores is missing, and no one knows where she is. You saw her last. Where is she?"

  "Give me the key to her house."

  She scowled, but went to her desk and got the ring of keys from the top drawer. "I already checked. She's not there." She threw them at me and missed.

  "Well, I'm going to check anyway." I plucked the key ring off the floor.

  Delores's home, a single-story modern rambler at the far edge of the Copper Creek property, was quiet and tidy. Someone had washed the breakfast dishes and lined them up to dry on the drain board -- most likely Delores. Mail was stacked neatly on the desk. I went into each of the two spare bedrooms and checked the closets -- why, I couldn't say. My mind offered numerous possibilities I didn't want to consider, even briefly. I found nothing there. I checked the bathroom, then went to Delores's bedroom. The bed was made, so I had no way of telling if it had been slept in or not. Just to say I had, I looked under it, found a pencil, but that was all. On the vanity in her bathroom stood several prescription bottles, a plastic pill case, and a small zippered kit of some sort. The pill case had fourteen little compartments, with the day of the week and AM or PM printed on each lid. The lid of the Friday morning compartment was up and it was empty, so she had taken this morning's dose of whatever. I peeked inside a closed compartment and counted six pills. I had no idea she took so much medication.

  The zippered case contained a log book, and two small items, neither bigger than the palm of my hand. The wider of the two was equipped with an LED screen and a couple of buttons. I looked in the log book. It was filled in, but not copiously, with a range of numbers in the low one-hundreds. The column that caught my attention was the one titled, "Additional Blood Glucose." Evidently, Delores was diabetic. I never knew. From the number of other pills in her case, I guessed there were other health issues, too. The labels on her prescription bottles didn't tell me anything except the name of the drug, how much to take, and when. If I had any medical background I could have guessed what they were for. It distressed me that I'd always thought she was healthy. Why didn't I know? I left the house, locking the door behind me, and returned to Juliet.

  "I didn't know Delores was diabetic," I said.

  "Yeah. She has to eat regularly, and she takes a bunch of pills for that and other things."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "What? You want a rundown on everybody's medical history?"

  We glared at each other until I broke the standoff.

  "It is not my fault she's missing. I'm trying to help. Where are the guys?"

  Her expression didn't soften. "They're on the afternoon schedule."

  The hardly informative answer meant they were anywhere on the property working on whatever projects Eric has assigned to them.

  I tracked them down. They were worried, but had no clues. I talked to the instructors, something Juliet hadn't done. Only Anne had seen Delores. She'd driven out close to nine o'clock. I went to Miguel and Maria's house, but only Miguel was there and I'd just talked to him.

  "Maria went to the store," he said.

  "Have her call me when she gets home."

  There was nothing more I could do at Copper Creek, so I went home and called Detective Thurman.

  "Delores is missing," I told him without preamble.

  "Since what time?" he asked.

  "A little before nine this morning. She was at the office early. One of the instructors saw her drive out."

  "She hasn't been gone that long. She'll be back when she's finished running whatever errands she's got."

  "This isn't like her to be gone so long and not let anyone know where she is. Besides, she's diabetic and has to eat regularly." I felt I had to make a point.

  "There's nothing I can do right now, and I think she's old enough to get her own meals."

  What did it take to get this guy off his butt? "She knows who killed Valerie, too." And I knew he didn't believe me. "What if something happened? I'm afraid for her."

  "Look," he said, in a tone I was becoming all too familiar with. "Give her time. She'll turn up. If she's not back first thing tomorrow morning, we'll start looking."

  That was all I would get out of him. I turned on my computer intending to get some work done, but turned it off before it fully booted up. This didn't feel right. Something was wrong. I'd have to find her myself.

  By the time I drove back to Copper Creek, Maria had arrived home from the grocery store. The men were in the house for their afternoon break before evening chores, and Juliet was there as well. While Maria bustled around putting groceries away I told them about my conversation with Detective Thurman.

  "She will be as mad as a wet rat when she comes back and finds out you called the police on her," Maria said.

  "I wish someone would fill me in," Juliet said. "What do you guys know that you're not telling?"

  Miguel and I looked at each other.

  "Didn't you say anything?" I asked.

  "No. I thought you would tell Juliet, she would tell Eric and he would tell Jorge."

  "Oh."

  Obvious communications breakdown. I guess I couldn't be too hard on Delores for the same lapse. So I told them about the three of us going to the Broken Axle. I knew Maria wouldn't be pleased, but I saw no way around it. Miguel would have to field this one himself. However, I never got a chance to tell them what we discovered. Maria came out of the kitchen like a mad bee on a mission and slapped Miguel soundly on the arm. He flinched.

  "You lied to me! You know I do not like you going to those places!"

  "But Maria, we did get some information."

  "Ha! All you found was some drunk to buy beer for!" She planted her fists firmly on her hips. Her black eyes sparked fire.

  "Well, actually, Thea paid for the beer."

  "You let a woman buy your liquor?" She pulled at her hair. "¡Ay, Dios mio, Miguel!" She let loose with a stream of invective Spanish, none of which I understood, but whose meaning transcended linguistic barriers.

  By the time she finished she had included Miguel, Jorge, and Eric in her diatribe. If appearance was anything to go by, each acted suitably humbled.

  Then Maria turned on me. Shaking her finger and switchi
ng to English she told me less eloquently, but no less effectively, "You should not have gone to a place that has such a reputation as that one. Besides, it is not right for a woman to pay for things a man should pay for. You make yourself look like, like …."

  "A hussy?" Juliet offered.

  I knew she'd get some mileage out of this.

  "Yes, a hussy! You will never find yourself a husband. It is hard enough at your age, anyway. Why do you want to go and make yourself look like a hussy? No man will have you."

  I was speechless. Juliet was finding it hard not to snicker. She poked Eric in the ribs with her elbow. Maria wasn't finished. She pinned Juliet with a stern look she'd undoubtedly learned from the nuns.

  "You I must talk with in private the talk your own mother should have had with you."

  Juliet opened her mouth but Maria's hand flashed up like a traffic cop.

  "When the men leave we will talk about the cow and how she should not give milk away except to the farmer who owns her."

  Maria must have thought she was being obscure enough for no one to catch her meaning. Juliet bit her lip and examined the carpet. Eric received her final rebuke.

  "And you," she said, not bothering to switch to Spanish, "you will hear me about the dishonorable man who steals the milk."

  She turned and marched to the kitchen, leaving Eric red with embarrassment and the rest of us afraid to speak. I heard cabinet doors slamming and pots rattling. A short moment later she reappeared in the kitchen doorway brandishing a long-handled pot like a war club. "All of you," she said, swinging the thing in a wide arc, "out of my house and back to work!"

  We all moved toward the front door.

  "Except you." She pointed the pot at Juliet.

  Juliet cast a pleading look at me. I pretended not to see.

  "All of this because Delores wanted to go look at a horse to buy." Maria marched back to the kitchen.

  We looked at one another, shocked.

  "Maria," Miguel called, "you mean Delores told you where she was going?"

  "Yes, she told me." She reappeared in the doorway. "She was going to look at a horse to buy." Relief spread audibly through the room. "If any of you bothered to be where she could find you she would have told you, too." She returned to the kitchen.

  As we filed out the front door, our moods greatly lightened, Maria yelled from the kitchen, "¡Juliet! ¡Eric! ¡Aqui! ¡Ahora!"