Classic Revenge (26 page)

"This is serious, Trish." Millie was on her second
cup of coffee and had repeated the same sentence for
the third time now.

Finally! Trish wasn't sure that jumping for joy would
be appropriate, but, nevertheless, she was thrilled Millie finally understood what a serious situation this was.
Playing detective definitely had some bright spots, and
she felt that some of their clues would be instrumental
in closing out the case, but now it was time to let the
real pros take over. It would even be nice to let Millie
be the one to call Chief Espinoza, to tell him everything
they knew, and then maybe they could all go do something that old women normally did.

"Tom Jones must realize we're on his trail, but he probably doesn't know exactly how much we actually suspect.
We've got to be very careful. We can't afford to make
any mistakes that could make him go underground" Millie got up from the table to get yet another cup of coffee. "We still don't have any hard evidence."

Trish blinked, visions of shopping and dining out
fleeing from her mind. "Are you crazy?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask" Millie smiled
impishly. "Now, I called Michelle early this morning
and gave her the tag numbers from the car. Since she
works for an insurance company, she'll be able to tell
us who the car is registered to. I told her to call me over
here" She sat back down and looked at her watch.
"Edna will be here soon. Get me some paper and a pen,
will you?" Practically licking her chops, Millie rubbed
her hands together. "We're getting close, I can feel it!"

"Stop it, Millie!" Trish demanded, her eyes almost
popping out of her head. "Stop it right now, or I'm going
to have you committed. Do you realize what you're saying? There have been two murders-two! This is out of
our hands now. We're done ... finished ... kaput ... the
end! Do you understand?" Trish's voice had risen and
her hands were clenched tightly on the table. She had to
make Millie stop this now, and, if it came right down to
it, she'd physically sit on top of her to keep the old coot
safe.

"I understand that you're quitting right when we're
about to solve Susan's murder." Millie's voice had risen
a few octaves too. "And here I thought Edna was the
wimp," she added, sticking her nose in the air.

"Why, you-"

"What's going on in here?" Edna asked from the
doorway, a worried frown on her face. "I knocked, but
nobody heard me. I can't imagine why, with all the
yelling going on. Anyone care to fill me in?"

"Millie's crazy"

"Trish is a wimp."

Edna held up a hand, a smile pulling at her lips. "Slow
down, please. I've known you both a long time now.
Trish is definitely not a wimp, and Millie, there are times
that you're not crazy. What's this all about?"

Millie huffed and sat with her arms crossed while
Trish explained to Edna what had caused the disagreement.

"Well," Edna began, and then sat down, clearing her
throat, "well, I guess I can understand both your opinions."

"What do you mean?" Trish asked incredulously.
Millie looked over at her with a smug expression and
smiled.

"Well ," Edna hesitated. She swallowed, her gaze focused on her fingers twisting nervously on the table, and
then swallowed again. "It's just that Joe and I talked to
Sam last night on the telephone just about things in
general, you know, and to see how he was doing. He
just sounded so ... dejected. It broke my heart," Edna
took a deep breath and looked up. "I think the enormity of everything that has happened is really sinking in,
and he's feeling helpless and alone. I'm worried he may
fall into a state of depression that he can't pull himself
out of"

The room was silent for a while. "That's the main
reason we need to let the police do their job," Trish
said, but her tone lacked conviction, even to herself.

"No, that's the main reason we need to speed things
up and solve this ourselves," Millie said in a quiet, firm
voice. She held up a hand when Trish started to interrupt. "Look, despite what everyone thinks, I'm not crazy
and I'm not stupid. Sure, there's a chance that justice will ultimately prevail and the real killer will be discovered, but how long is that going to take? Since the police believe Sam is guilty, they're not seriously looking
at anybody else. So, what happens to Sam in the meantime? This is a good, decent man we're talking about,
one who just lost the love of his life." Millie's voice was
slightly shaking now. "But if we do anything further,
we have to do it together or not at all. I vote we continue our investigation, find out who the monster is who
could have done this, and free Sam to go through the
grieving process and then move on with his life."

Edna reached over and squeezed Millie's hand.
"Count me in," she said quietly. Then they both looked
at Trish.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and gave
a weak smile. "What? You're acting like I have a choice
in the matter."

Millie grinned and then got up to give Trish a big
hug. "That's my girl! And, by the way, I never thought
you were a wimp. I just wanted to get under your skin."

Just then the phone rang. "That's probably Michelle,"
Millie said and hurried to answer it.

Of course, Trish thought to herself, shaking her
head wryly, I never get any phone calls here at my own
home. But Millie was right; it was her daughter. She
wrote something down on the pad by the phone, her
eyes wide in apparent wonder at something Michelle
was saying. Trish quickly explained to Edna why
Michelle was calling. They could only hear one side of
the conversation, but by Millie's comments-"Are you
positive? ... That's fantastic! ... Do you have an
address?"-the information Michelle was relaying was
obviously important.

A minute later, Millie hung up the phone and sat
back down. Excitement was almost exploding from her
very pores. "You're not going to believe this! Guess who
the car is registered to"

"Who?" Trish and Edna replied in unison.

"It's registered to-.-. . Clarissa Jones!"

For a moment, Trish and Edna both had blank expressions on their face. Then a chill started to spread down
Trish's back. "Tom Jones' wife."

"Well, she's his ex-wife, to be exact," Millie said, a
satisfied smile on her face. "I've got her address too."

"What was Tom Jones' wife doing at Mary's?" Edna
asked.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out," Millie
said and rose from her chair. "I'm going to go lock
up my house and change shoes. I'll be back in a
minute." She was gone before anyone could say anything more.

"I guess that means we're going somewhere," Edna
said, her lips twitching in amusement.

Trish let out a sigh and nodded. "Well, at least one
statement Millie made is true"

"What's that?"

"She's not stupid."

"It doesn't look like anybody's home;" Trish said,
slowly driving by the tan stucco townhouse. Amazingly,
they had found Clarissa Jones' house without any trouble. They were either getting better at directions or they
were just plain lucky. No, they were definitely getting
better, Trish thought smugly as she pulled up a few
houses away and parked. "Now what do we do?"

"We wait."

"And how long do you propose we wait, Millie?"
Trish asked, keeping the impatience from her voice
with effort. She knew they were all tense, wanting to find
solid answers, and she wasn't in the mood for another
squabble. "It's mid-morning. Clarissa could be working,
or out shopping. It's broad daylight, and I'm not particularly comfortable sitting out here where everybody and
their dog can see us"

"Trish has a point, Millie. We don't want to be too
obvious. Now that we know where the house is, we can
come back anytime."

With one last look at the house, Millie sighed loudly
and turned around. "Okay, let's go. We've got to do
something, though"

Trish knew she was going to regret her next comment,
but since they had all agreed they were going to finish
this to the end, they might as well get aggressive-or really, really stupid-in their tactics. "We need to go back
to Tom's."

Millie thought for a moment. She turned slowly then,
and looked at Trish with raised eyebrows. "That's a
great idea, if I do say so, myself."

"I don't think we should go now, though," Trish said.
"It'd be the same problem with the daylight."

"Why do we need to go back to Tom's?" Edna asked.
"We know that Clarissa went to Mary's house, but
we're still just guessing about Tom's involvement."

"I'd bet my bottom dollar that Clarissa and Tom are
in this together," Millie said, her face set in tight lines.
"Probably like Bonnie and Clyde, they think they can
get away with anything. But they're wrong. They've
got us on their tail, and we're going to prove they're
guilty."

And I'll bet they're just shaking in their boots, Trish
thought.

Trish peered over the dashboard and saw Tom get into
his truck. When his taillights disappeared around the corner she looked at her companions seriously. "Are you
both absolutely positive that you want to do this?" The
day had dragged by as they had waited impatiently for
the darkness of night to fall. Then, with nerves stretched
to the snapping point, they had driven to Tom's, parked a
few houses away from his trailer, and waited for some
kind of movement.

"I'm sure," Millie said emphatically.

After a moment Edna nodded. "I'm sure."

Trish took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to pull the
car a little closer. Millie, we've got to act fast. For all we
know, Tom may have just gone to the store for a gallon of
milk or something. Edna, you stay in the car and if you
see Tom coming back, you honk the horn twice and then
drive to the entrance of the mobile-home park and wait."

"Okay, I've got it," Edna said.

Millie reached over and patted Edna's hand. "Don't
worry. Remember, if anything goes wrong, we'll meet
you at the entrance. Don't wait more than ten minutes,
though. If we don't show up, you drive up the road to
that Laundromat we passed on the main street and call
Joe immediately."

Edna sighed deeply. "I know, I know. Just please be
careful, and please, please hurry."

Trish looked at Millie. "Are you ready?"

"Let's roll!" Millie replied, tightening the dark scarf
she wore over her hair. Trish normally would have
laughed at Millie's bravado, but right now she was too frightened to do more than roll her eyes. What they
were going to do was dangerous and illegal. It was also
necessary.

Trish pulled the car up in front of the trailer right next
to Tom's. Without a word, she and Millie got out of the
car, and Edna got into the front seat. The sky was dark
with slowly moving clouds covering the moon. There
wasn't a street light or a porch light to help guide the way
as Trish and Millie walked hand in hand toward Tom's
trailer. Millie wasn't quite as unaffected by their adventure as she pretended, Trish thought with sympathy as
she felt the slight tremor in Millie's hand.

The lights were still on inside Tom's trailer, and for
the first time Trish wondered if someone else might live
there. She whispered her thoughts aloud to Millie who
only shrugged and said, "There's only one way to find
out" Walking up to the door, she pounded on it hard.

Trish gasped and jumped three feet in the air. What
was Millie thinking? What in the world would they say
if somebody came to the door? She really wished Millie would start thinking things through before she acted
so impulsively.

After a few seconds, Millie casually sauntered away
from the door and started peering in the windows. "Nobody's here," she whispered loudly as she opened her
fanny pack and pulled out the bright yellow gloves. "Put
these on," she said, throwing a pair to Trish. Next she
pulled out a screwdriver and started feeling around the
window frames. "Maybe one of these windows is open
and we can crawl through"

Trish wasn't crazy about crawling through a window.
With their luck, one of them would get stuck just as
Tom came home. If only he had been careless enough to leave a door open. Just for the heck of it, she reached
for the front door knob. To her utter surprise, it turned
easily. "Millie, the front door is open," she whispered
loudly.

"Now that's what I call luck!" Millie said, scrambling
back to the door.

"Maybe it's not so lucky. It could mean Tom won't
be gone for long"

"You've got a point. We'd better hurry" Millie pushed
the door open and walked right in. Trish forced herself
not to look over her shoulder as she followed. Hopefully,
if anybody was looking, they wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention. Oh yeah, there was a fat chance of that,
she thought, considering the bright, colorful gloves.

They were immediately assaulted by the stench of
stale tobacco and greasy food. They were in the main
living area of the trailer. Against the far wall was a beige
leather sofa, an end table, and an old, beat-up coffee
table. Closer to the door was a recliner and another end
table facing a television. A lamp without a shade stood
on the table, and there was clutter everywhere, old
newspapers on the sofa and the floor, overflowing ashtrays on the coffee table and end table. Trish noticed
there were paper bags of just about every known fast
food joint thrown carelessly around the room.

There was no personality in the room, no pictures, no
memorable knickknacks, nothing but trash. Trish shuddered. Who could live in such filth? She knew Millie had
brought the gloves to protect against fingerprints, but she
was thinking they might very well protect against disease, as well. Bless Millie and her thoughtfulness.

Trying not to breathe too deeply, she saw that Millie
was carefully looking through the mess around the sofa with one hand while the other one covered her mouth
and nose. Trish sighed and looked around. They weren't
sure what they were looking for, just anything suspicious, anything that would explain the situation between
Tom and his ex-wife, anything they could use to start
putting together all the different pieces.