Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery) (12 page)

We finally left at midnight, and the only way I
convinced Jenny to leave was that I promised her Bur would bring
her back in the morning. She cried all the way back to the Four
Acorns Inn.

Lacey was waiting up for us in the living room,
dressed in cotton floral pajamas, a glass of scotch on the side
table. She was watching an old Hollywood B-movie.

“What happened?” She led Jenny by the shoulder over
to the sofa and sat her down. I found my way to the armchair
opposite, where I regaled her with the details. She promised to be
part of the Mozzie team and help out. By the time I led the
teenager up to her third-floor bedroom in the wee small hours of
the morning, she was sleepy, but optimistic. I wished I felt that
same hope.

The first day of Mozzie’s hospital stay was brutal.
Twice, the vet suggested the kindest thing to do would be to
euthanize the dog, but Jenny just wouldn’t hear of it. She stayed
with the dog in one of the back rooms, with vet techs coming and
going as they worked around her. She refused to take a break, so we
took meals to her and held Mozzie while she ate.

The second day dawned much like the first, with a
lethargic pooch, but somewhere around midday, something changed. It
was a slight, and yet noticeable, improvement. The eyes were
brighter, more alert. Mozzie’s temperature dropped, even though he
was still on an IV drip, receiving fluids.

The third day offered a real ray of hope. Dr.
Greenwald wanted Jenny to let Mozzie sleep on his own, so that he
would get more rest, because he was starting to stabilize. The
teenager could see the dog was healing. His wounds were beginning
to clear. He wasn’t eating on his own yet, but the fluids were
helping.

On the fourth day, Dr. Greenwald told Jenny that she
needed to give back a little something to the animal hospital, to
help defray some of Mozzie’s costs. She had Jenny walk a couple of
the dogs outside before their dental cleanings, and she even asked
her to wipe down the waiting room and sweep the floor. She also had
the teenager filing papers and refilling the brochure holders. At
eight, the vet on duty told her to go home for the night, because
it was important for her to get some rest. Mozzie would be released
within twenty-four hours. Bur picked her up and brought her home
after dropping his date off. I had a plate waiting and she sat at
the dining room table, recounting her day as she ate. She was
finally beginning to relax, no longer the tense teen, and things
seemed to be turning around.

I set the breakfast table for eleven
people before I went to bed. We had six guests staying in our three
rooms, and two of the couples were traveling together. They were
leaving at seven to catch a plane, so I was up early to make them
eggs. They indulged in a variety of bagels, muffins, and
croissants, fresh mango and pineapple slices, and took their time,
reading the
Hartford Courant
and the
New York
Times
. I had already cleaned up the first
round of breakfast dishes when Jenny padded into the dining room. I
was on my second cup of coffee, enjoying a container of Greek
yogurt.

“Oh, that looks good.” The last few days had taken
its toll on her. Face thinner, clothes beginning to hang on her,
she needed to make up for lost time.

“Would you like some eggs? Maybe a cheese
omelet?”

“Mmm...can I have the comics, please?”

I handed her the Living Section on my way to the
kitchen. When I returned, with a steaming plate of egg and cheesy
goodness, she had vanished.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom,” I decided. Ten
minutes later, I went looking for her. Another five frustrating
minutes passed before I tried her cell phone. No response.

Bur helped himself to Jenny’s omelet while I was
busy. I decided that was better than letting it go to waste.

“Have you seen Jenny, Colonel Poup?”

“Nope. This could have used more onions and peppers,
Miz Scarlet.”

“I’ll try to remember that next time I make Jen an
omelet. In the meantime, I can’t reach her.”

“She’s not answering her phone?”

“No. And I can’t find her in the house,” I told him,
even as he was dialing his phone.

“Hmm...you’re right. She’s not picking up.”

“She knows we’re supposed to leave to get Mozzie in a
little while,” I fretted, as I sat down at the dining room table in
front of the comics section that the teenager requested from me.
“Where would she go? Do you think we should worry?”

What if Bobby’s boss decided to come after the girl?
What if someone snatched her? As the possible scenarios flew
through my brain, panic followed.

“Take a breath, Scar. We’ll go looking for her. Where
are the dogs?”

“With Mama,” I told him. Sure enough, January and
Huckleberry were ensconced on the carpet, in a patch of sunlight,
snoozing. My mother had her head buried in a book about Wales,
glasses perched on her nose, taking notes as she read. “Have you
seen Jenny?”

“She went out. Is something wrong?”

“When you say she went out, does that mean she
mentioned where she was going?” I wondered. Laurel shook her
head.

“I caught sight of her in the bird garden in the
backyard, if that helps.”

“It does.” I thanked her as I hurried away.

Bur beat me to the back door. “I’ll take the blue
trail, you take the yellow. I’ll meet you at the summit. Call me if
you find her.”

I hit the trail at a fast walk, dialing Jenny’s
Smartphone every five minutes. Still no answer. By the time I
reached the wooden footbridge across the stream, I was worried.
What would make Jenny just vanish? Or who?

As my eyes scanned the rugged landscape, searching
for the tiniest movement, I was baffled. It wasn’t like her to just
disappear. In the short time we had known her, she hadn’t been
completely honest, or sensible, for that matter, but she had been a
decent kid. If she up and went, she had a reason. Maybe something
upset her.

I was five minutes from the summit when my cell phone
buzzed in my hand. “Bur, did you find her?”

“She’s on the boulders at the top, Scar. She’s
bawling her eyes out. I think I’m going to let you talk to her.” My
brother has never been good about women and tears. “I’ll stay and
keep an eye on her until you get here.”

I came through the woods and out into the opening,
where the wide panoramic view of Hartford spanned the miles. The
morning was clear, with good visibility. A couple of early bird
hikers were passing through and they paused to admire the scene.
They glanced at the girl on the rock ledge, nudging each other with
that question strangers often ask each other. “Should we approach?”
I made sure to make some noise, so they would know I was there for
Jenny. They looked up at me, nodded, and moved on.

“Jen?” I called softly. Her back was to me and I
didn’t want to startle her. Those shoulders were bobbing up and
down, chin on her chest. “You okay?”

She went on crying, at times gasping for breath. I
let her agony take its course, knowing she needed to get it out in
the open. Sitting beside her, I lightly rubbed her back in gentle,
slow circles. When she rested her head against my shoulder, weary,
the little sobs intermittent, I put my arm around her and let her
finish, compose herself, and tell me what was bothering her.

“Today is...my mother’s...birthday,” she sniffed.
“She would have...been...42.”

That explained a lot. With everything that had
happened in the last couple of weeks, it would have been easy to
forget the importance of the date. But she had asked me for the
comics section of the newspaper. The date at the top of the page
must have hit her unexpectedly, as she was gazing at the
cartoons.

We stayed another half hour, talking. I asked her
what kinds of things her mother liked to do, what kinds of books
she liked to read, what lessons she taught the teenager. When we
finally came down from White Oak Hill, we walked in companionable
silence.

Bur was watching for us when we got back to the
house. He was working on his laptop in the living room, with
Laurel, while they waited for our return.

“You okay, squirt?” His voice was kind and the girl
responded honestly.

“Yes. It’s my mother’s birthday today,” was her
explanation. My brother mumbled about how tough that must be.
Laurel patted the sofa cushion, beckoning. I noticed Jenny didn’t
hesitate. She plopped herself down wearily and put her head on my
mother’s comforting shoulder.

I left them to go call the animal hospital and find
out what time we should collect Mozzie. Helping myself to a second
cup of coffee, I punched in the number, talked to Tonya at the
front desk, and promised her we’d be over in about half an
hour.

Knowing my mother wanted the chance to work her magic
with Jenny, I kept myself occupied while I waited. I was chopping
vegetables for lunch when my phone rang.

“Miz Scarlet,” Kenny greeted me. “How’s my favorite
lady?”

“Captain Peacock, it’s so good to hear your voice. I
miss you.”

“Miss you too, babe. And I’ve got news. Unbelievable
news.”

“Great. I could use something cheerful.” I told him
about Jenny’s tough morning.

“Know that one. It’s tough. First birthday after
Jillian died, it was hell. I thought I was going to feel that
heartache forever. The kids suffered, too. At least we had each
other. Poor Jenny doesn’t really have anyone who knew her mom to
share the pain.”

“We’re trying, but we don’t know what it’s like to
miss Vivian, do we?”

“Exactly.”

“So, what’s the good news?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Actually, I am, at the kitchen counter.”

“I found Jenny’s grandparents.”

Chapter Twelve --

“You did?” I was shocked. Kenny had done the
impossible...or the nearly impossible.

“We had a very long, very emotional conversation. The
Martinez family didn’t know what happened to their granddaughter.
Their son, Jaime, was studying at Boston University. He wanted to
be a chemist, and he was on a full scholarship when he met Jenny’s
mother, Christina. She was also a student. The pair fell in love,
she got pregnant, and he married her. But he didn’t tell his
parents because he knew they would be upset that the lovebirds
weren’t married by a priest. He figured that he would bring her out
to meet his parents over the summer, they’d have a formal ceremony,
and everything would be just fine.

“In the meantime, his father ran into trouble on the
family farm. He was laid up with a broken leg, so Jimmy withdrew
for the remainder of the semester, bought a bus ticket, and rode
across country to help out. The weather was bad in Colorado and
there was a terrible crash.”

“Oh, Kenny....”

“The Martinez family was devastated. It took a while
to receive all of his personal effects because the wreckage was
scattered across the highway. Someone found his notebook, with the
notes he made while he was trying to figure out how to tell his
parents about Christina and Jenny. The police had to identify the
owner of the notebook, and at the time, it wasn’t a priority that
justified the manpower. By the time they figured out it was
Jimmy’s, Christina had died of an overdose of tranquilizers and
Vivian had taken Jenny to Maine.”

“Christina must have thought Jimmy had abandoned
her,” I sighed. “I’ll bet she wondered why he didn’t call her.”

“Antonio said his wife spoke to Christina when she
called. Maria didn’t know who she was or why she was asking about
Jimmy, but when she tried to tell the girl her son was dead, the
words wouldn’t come out. Her husband gave Christina the news. He
said Jimmy’s accident happened before he reached California, so
they didn’t know what the young woman from Boston was talking about
when she insisted Jimmy was her husband.

“Later, when the notebook was returned to them, they
realized Christina and Jimmy were in love, so Antonio hired a
private investigator to find mother and child, but the man had no
luck because the trail was cold by then. The letters the Martinez
family sent to Boston were returned, without a forwarding address,
so they assumed the Mulroney family wanted nothing to do with
them.”

“Vivian and her parents never knew the Martinez
family reached out?”

“Apparently not.”

“Tragic.”

“It is. Christina was a new mother, and emotionally
vulnerable. She might have been experiencing post partum
depression, so Jimmy’s death would have hit her hard. The police
report said that she left a note, saying she just couldn’t go on
without him and that Jenny should be turned over to her sister for
safekeeping. The responding officer said that Vivian showed up
fifteen minutes after the cops did because Christina had called to
ask her sister to look after the baby. She timed her suicide,
giving herself enough time to die, but not leaving her baby
vulnerable. My best guess is Vivian carried that terrible burden
with her all her life.”

“What, that she was too late to save her sister?”

“And the guilt that she never suspected the terrible
outcome.”

“Maybe that’s why Vivian never told Jenny. She’d have
to confess that she was unable to rescue Christina.”

“There’s more. Antonio and Maria want to meet their
granddaughter. I suggested that they might want to visit the Four
Acorns Inn.”

There was a long pause as I took in that news. How
did I feel about it? I wasn’t sure.

“What if they don’t like Jenny? What if they decide
they don’t want her? I’m not certain she can handle that kind of
rejection, Kenny.”

“Scarlet, we have to give them the chance to get to
know their granddaughter. We owe it to Jenny to choose her own
destiny.”

“I know, but I’m still nervous about it. What if it’s
all too much for her? To go from losing her aunt, the woman she
thought was her mother, to finding her grandparents....”