Half Past Mourning (9 page)

Nina stared at the woman beside her, clutching at the story she couldn’t take in. “Then all this time you must have been hearing from Danny? Phone calls or postcards, letters or something?” Nina grasped the silken robe, resisting an impulse to shake an admission from Marigold. “You must have heard something! Something to say he was all right, that he wasn’t sick, or giving you some way to reach him in an emergency.”

Marigold gave her an imperious stare, pale brows lifted in condescension, and brushed Nina’s hand away from the crumpled silk. “Well, of course, I hear from him. I didn’t for a week or two and got a little concerned, especially when I called the hotel where he planned to stay and they said his reservation was canceled. I was ready to go to Daytona myself to find him. Then a friend of his called and explained that Danny had joined up with one of the race drivers for a side trip. This driver could get Danny into, oh, what did he call it, the pit? Anyway, something to do with where they work on the cars during a race. I didn’t think it was a good idea, all those fumes, and who knows what sort of people would be around. I guess Danny knew I wouldn’t approve, so he didn’t call me directly. He had that friend call. He’s been following those races ever since, Nina. I hear from him, not as often as I want to, but I do hear from him.” Marigold stood, her shimmering skirts flaring as she turned. “I tried to get an address so I could call or write. He doesn’t stay in one place long, though I think he’s mostly in Daytona. I blame the lawyers for some of that, Nina. They encouraged him to turn his back on his mama. When he reached twenty-five, he came into his daddy’s money. He could do most anything he wanted, things that he knew weren’t right for him. And those fancy lawyers just goaded him on, told him he could buy that flashy car, go off to places whenever he wanted, even places where he’d be exposed to heaven knows what kind of germs and infections. Danny set it up with them that they’d forward his money to some bank in Daytona so he had a base of operations. He misses me, but he still doesn’t want to come home.” Lipstick and rouge stood out in harsh patches against her pale skin. Her hard blue eyes glittered with unshed tears. She whirled on Nina. “And it’s because of you! If you’d just be sensible, be realistic instead of clinging to some fairy tale idea about Danny being in love with you, and go get that farce of a marriage annulled, why, then my boy would come home. I know he would, because he always says how much he misses me. It’s you that’s keeping him away! Can’t you see that?”

White hot rage swept over Nina. The woman had blocked every attempt to find Danny. She’d derailed the sheriff. She’d left Nina to deal with the questions, the pain, and the embarrassment of being abandoned. The nightmares that tormented Nina, fearing Danny had been kidnapped, injured, even lost his memory, had left endless nights of weeping and worry in their wake. All the time Marigold had known where he was and how to reach him. “You have some nerve, Marigold! You’ve kept silent when I was sick with worry. You’ve used your position in this town to stop a proper inquiry. Now you say it’s my fault that Danny hasn’t come home.” With anger so thick she could barely breathe, Nina picked up the pocket knife and driver’s license and jammed them back in her purse. She jerked car keys from her pocket and turned toward the door. Outraged, shattered by Marigold’s revelations, she couldn’t face another moment with the woman across the room.

“I had another visitor today, Marigold. Tinker Downs, remember him? He told me his story about Danny. He said Danny went away because he needed to live his own life, not the life his mother dictated to him. I don’t know which story, yours or Tinker’s, is closer to the truth. He may have had second thoughts about our marriage, but Danny went through with the wedding. He did marry me, Marigold. If he had other plans, if he intended to make another life for himself, why did he do that? Why add the complications of a legal marriage to his escape plans? Did he leave me or did he leave you? Or was it a combination? Only Danny knows. Until I hear answers to those questions, Marigold, I’m Danny Wilson’s wife.”

****

Nina was much too quiet, and Peter didn’t like the heavy shadows in her face or the haunted look in her eyes. He’d met her at her house, the cozy house at the end of Jasmine Street, as soon as school closed for the day. At first he’d thought riding in the T-Bird was proving more difficult for her than she’d expected, but as she gave him directions to reach her uncle’s museum, he realized she barely noticed her surroundings. Her mind was anywhere but on his driving or the car carrying them.

“Turn right at the stop sign,” she instructed. “It’s the group of buildings at the end of the road. Uncle Eldon will be in his office or his shop this time of day.”

Peter, slowed by a gravel truck ahead of him, waited to make the turn. As he applied the brakes, he saw a black-and-silver car come out of the narrow road and head up the highway away from them. “Is that the sheriff or just one of his deputies? Wonder what the local constabulary is doing out here.”

Nina looked where he pointed and nodded. “Oh, yes, that’s the sheriff in person. He has the car with the buggy whip antennas.” She stared at the retreating car, her lips thinned and tight. “Wish he was half as interested in looking for Danny as he is courting votes for the next election.” Peter thought she had something more on her mind, but she stopped short of saying it. The county car disappeared from sight before she went on. “The sheriff comes by from time to time, just to keep in touch with my uncle. Once in a while there’s some boy who’s on the verge of getting into trouble, and he thinks Uncle Eldon can help out. That’s how we first met Tinker. He wasn’t in trouble, but he was getting in with other kids who could head him that way. Uncle Eldon got him involved with the cars in the museum and with the sports car club. It gave the kid some place to be when he wasn’t in school, so he didn’t have so much time to find mischief. All the kids practically worshiped Danny.” Nina lapsed back into silence.

As the T-Bird followed the narrow drive, Nina appeared lost in thought until she directed him to a parking area behind the long white brick building. She slipped out of the car, and Peter hurried to follow her to the heavy metal door opening into the building and a shadowed hallway. The office to one side was empty, and she gestured to the vast double doors at the end of the corridor.

“Uncle Eldon is down there pampering the Princess, I guess.”

“Princess?” Peter lengthened his stride to keep pace with her long legs.

“His prize, his passion,” she answered. “He found it in a junkyard before his accident. I think restoring it has kept him going. You’ll appreciate it.”

She led the way to the huge doors, pulled one open, and motioned for him to follow. Curiosity urged him past the entry, and sheer awe held him speechless once inside. A car—no, a chariot—dominated the enclosed bay at the end of the cavernous room. Blood-red coach work gleamed under the pool of lights. Chrome, polished like fine silver, twinkled against the darker body with a glittering, coiled-to-strike cobra poised on the hood. White leather showed off the tuck-and-roll detailing. Elaborate as a stateroom, the right-hand-drive steering wheel and gleaming dials set in fine-grained walnut commanded the passenger compartment. Peter was scarcely aware of the man in the wheelchair beside the behemoth. Drawn to the beauty of the lines and the power that came like a physical force from the silent machine, Peter saw nothing but the work of art in front of him.

“That’s an Isotta-Fraschini, young man, the 1924 Typo 8ASS.” The voice startled Peter into turning around. The wheelchair rolled silently over the floor. “The wheelbase measures 134 inches and the engine was the most powerful straight-eight in the world at the time. She’d do ninety miles an hour without even trying. Ever seen one before?”

“I recognize the herald on the grill,” Peter answered, “but I’ve never seen the real thing, just photos. She’s everything I ever expected.”

“Hey, Snookie!” The wheelchair spun slightly so the man in it could face Nina. “You’ve brought a man with some appreciation for a masterpiece.” He turned back to Peter. “Eldon Lassiter, sir, and it’s a pleasure to meet a man who knows what he’s looking at.”

Nina came forward and made introductions. Peter was pleased to see recognition light the older man’s eyes.

“So you’re the fellow who somehow came into possession of Danny’s pride and joy, are you? Found his driver’s license, as well, I hear.” Eldon Lassiter held out his hand. “And you think you might be some help to Nina. I hope so. At least you’ve given her more information than our friendly sheriff has after two years of piddling around.”

Glancing at Nina, Peter saw more shadows in her face and a tightening in her full lips that suggested she was biting back words, barely holding off the flood. More certain than ever that her anxiety had grown since he’d seen her the night before, he nodded to her uncle. “I hope I can bring something to light through the person who sold me the car. I like unraveling puzzles, and it seems to me Nina could use some outside help.”

Nina leaned over her uncle’s chair and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I have things to tell you,” she began, her body rigid and tense. With a sidelong glance toward Peter, she added, “I’ve had some conversations that change the way we’ve looked at Danny’s disappearance. You may have a hard time with some of the things I’ve heard. I certainly did.”

Eldon Lassiter nodded his head, a frown of concern drawing his shaggy brows together. “If it’s the truth, then knowing is better than not knowing, Snookie.” He turned the chair and rolled toward a narrow hall beside the shop. “Let’s go back to my place, where we can all be comfortable, and see what’s what.”

Following behind Nina and the man in the wheelchair, Peter could see that the living quarters behind the shop had been planned and built for a man who could manage his daily life only from the chair that gave him mobility. A masterpiece of efficiency, with every necessity at chair level, the upper half of the room served as a gallery for a connoisseur of fine cars. Peter saw brilliant photographs of cars that were works of art as much as examples of engineering. Beside them were framed and signed photos of drivers of the world who drove those automobiles.

“I see you like my collection,” Eldon Lassiter commented.

“Indeed, sir, it’s impressive.” Peter turned in a slow circle to appreciate the display around him.

The wheelchair rolled into a space between two red club chairs. Lassiter motioned to Peter to take one as Nina, biting down on her lower lip as if hounded by thoughts she hated to share, sank into the other.

“Now, tell me everything, Snookie. Did you hear from Danny? Is that it?”

Peter waited as Nina began her tale. He’d expected to see outrage, or outright fury, from her uncle as Nina began with her sudden call from Tinker Downs. To his surprise, Peter saw Eldon Lassiter nodding in quiet agreement.

“I thought there might be something bothering Tinker, something more than his usual trouble at home.” Lassiter fidgeted in his chair, then released a long-held breath. He spread long-fingered hands as if spilling thoughts he’d held back. “He came here that night, the night he left, and I got an impression that somehow he was disappointed in Danny. I sorta thought he was a little put off about you and Danny getting married, maybe felt like he was losing his best buddy. Seemed strange that he’d leave just a couple of days before the wedding. Never occurred to me that Danny had told Tinker he wouldn’t be missing a wedding because it wasn’t going to happen.”

Nina twisted the heavy gold ring on her left hand. Peter could feel the tension building in her. “There’s more,” she said at last. Her face was white with strain. She seemed to be holding a tide of turbulence inside herself.

What more could there be? She told him the boy thought Danny was planning to leave her.
I think she’s almost ready to believe it, too.
Peter looked into Nina’s caramel-brown eyes and saw darkness flashing in them. Nina was angry with a slow-burning heat, glowing with banked fury, and she was making heroic efforts to hold her composure. Something even more alarming must have happened during the day.

“I had a call from our dear Marigold after you left last night, Peter.”

“She called that late? Sounds like mother-in-law trouble brewing. Does she ride a broom and talk to a black cat?” Peter asked with an attempt at lightness.

She held up a hand, stopping further banter. “Let me get this out before I start spitting nails. Somebody in the neighborhood called Marigold to tell her I was entertaining a man last night. Marigold called me, of course. She admits she snoops but always has the most self-serving of excuses.” Nina’s lip curled in distaste. “I told her you had some information about Danny and his car. She didn’t believe me at first, but then she insisted I come over and tell her everything.” Nina shot him an apologetic look, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I couldn’t refuse to tell her, Peter. He’s her son and I thought she deserved to know what we’d learned.”

Peter listened with mounting anger and concern as Nina related the details of her visit to the Wilson estate. Nothing he’d heard about Marigold Wilson had given him a good feeling toward the woman. Hearing she’d known at the time of the wedding that Danny planned to abandon his bride, Peter would have gladly strangled Danny’s mother and left her for the crows to fight over.

“She encouraged Danny? In effect convinced him not to marry you? Maybe threw in the bribe of Daytona and a stake in the new track? Aided him in a cowardly scheme to duck out, not even giving you an explanation?” Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He crossed the narrow space between them and dropped down beside Nina’s chair. “She knew he was going to run out on you? She even covered for him, steered the sheriff away from a search, so he wouldn’t be found and have to explain?”
What kind of man lets his mother do that for him? What kind of mother would do it?
Peter felt his blood rise at the thought of Nina becoming the victim of such a pair. “She’s heard from him but never given you a word of assurance that he’s all right? Just let you wait and worry?”