The Goodbye Body (29 page)

I called the PD and asked for Peter, who was, as usual, unavailable. I then asked for Jorgeson, who had a much better track record.

‘The lieutenant’s in a meeting with the chief, the mayor, the prosecutor, and the director of the country club board,” Jorgeson said gloomily. “This may be a long one. Stealing a body from the morgue’s one thing, but upsetting the membership at the country club is grounds for life imprisonment without parole. It seems the ladies are refusing to play the tenth hole because it goes behind the cart shed.”

“Did Gary Billings come by to see Peter?”

“Who’s he, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s an FBI agent who was sent down to keep an eye on Dolly. He’s staying in one of the condos at the golf course.”

Jorgeson took a moment. “And he told you he was an FBI agent? Why would he do that?”

I was not inclined to tell Jorgeson how close I’d come to shrieking, “Hitman!” on the screened-in porch at the country club. “It’s a long story. He did say he was going to go to the PD to announce that he’s taking charge of the case.”

“The lieutenant’s gonna love this. I’m thinking I may go home and weed the vegetable garden.”

“I wish I could, too, except I don’t have a vegetable garden. I suppose I could go to the paint store and look at chips. Mr. Kalker’s crew should be ready to start on the walls in the next few days. How do you feel about sage green?”

“At the moment, my face is sage green and I doubt it’s all that attractive. You’d better stay where you are, Ms. Malioy. The lieutenant will want to talk to you when he gets out of this meeting. If you’re not there …”

“Weed till you weep, Sergeant Jorgeson,” I said, then hung up.

I went to find Caron and Inez. They were on the patio, conversing intently. I wondered for a brief second if Caron had actually heard what I said in the kitchen, but I doubted it. Until she reached a certain level of maturity, she was the center of the universe. She read only the comics in the newspaper and retreated to her bedroom whenever I watched the news. If I told her a meteorite was plunging toward Earth, she’d dash into the bathroom to wash her hair. And I would try to finish the last chapter in whatever mystery novel I was reading. “I knew all along it was the housekeeper” would be my last words.

I opened the sliding door. “I need you to help me.”

“Yeah, in a few minutes,” Caron said.

“Now. We are going to search every inch—no, every centimeter of this house, from the pantry to the mustiest closet. We need to do it in the next hour. Your conversation will have to wait.”

“Search for what?” asked Inez.

Caron rolled her eyes. “Have you forgotten that the police already searched the house a couple of days ago? Do you think someone managed to smuggle the dead guy back into the house and fold him up with the extra blankets and pillowcases?”

“We are going to search for ledgers. The police may have passed right over them, assuming they were of no consequence. And we need to do this before Peter gets out of a meeting and starts pounding on the door. If you refuse to cooperate, I’ll tell the officers outside that it’s too dangerous for you to stay here any longer and they need to take you to a cheap motel without cable.”

“You are Too Peculiar, Mother,” Caron said. She stood up and waited for Inez. “Okay, we’ll search the house. What exactly is a ledger? Would one expect to find it on a ledge? In a hedge? As a wedge?”

“Enough of the Dr. Seuss,” I said.

I explained the basic concept of a ledger. We split up and opened every drawer, suitcase, box, cabinet, closet, and hat-box. I pulled out all the files and folders in the desk and looked through them. Caron pranced through the den with a purple boa wrapped around her neck and went back upstairs. Inez, to her horror, encountered a dead mouse in a cabinet in the pantry and nearly fainted. I forced myself to go into the garage and make sure the storage room contained only empty boxes, a half case of wine, and a multitude of spiders.

At last I called it quits and we went into the kitchen for beverages. While Caron gleefully described a box of costume jewelry she’d found, I poured myself an inch of scotch and dropped in an ice cube.

So much for that brilliant theory.

Peter showed up an hour later, bearing hot dogs, buns, and chips. His greeting was less than exuberant. I took the groceries into the kitchen, then brought him a beer while he turned on the grill. After he’d flopped down in a lounge chair, I said, “Jorgeson told me you had another meeting today.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did you tell them about the Velocchio connection?”

“It went over really well. They demanded that I call in the FBI, the CIA, the FTA, the DEA, and everybody else short of their mothers-in-law, which I suppose would be the MIL.” He rolled his head to look at me. “It seems I don’t have to call in the FBI, since you’ve already done that.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” I said indignantly. “It just sort of happened.”

“Why don’t you explain how it just sort of happened? I’m sure it will be fascinating.”

“If you’d listened carefully to the tape of Dolly’s call earlier, you would have come to the same conclusion.”

Peter did not appreciate my tacit reproof. “I was distracted by the murder at the country club last night. The media are hounding the PD for a press conference, or at least a statement as to our progress. First a body in a freezer, then a beautiful girl in a red Mercedes. As soon as word gets out about the Velocchio family, you’ll have news helicopters over the house tomorrow. You and the girls may want to stay inside.”

“Caron and Inez are more likely to be out here doing the tango in their bathing suits, or in Sara Louise’s and Madison’s bikinis.” I took a deep breath, then related in great detail the conversation with Gary. “I suppose I pushed him into a corner,” I admitted, “but he’s a professional. He could have told me I was crazy and walked away. I didn’t have any proof that he was even involved.”

“He was going to have to step in sooner or later. Neither Petti nor Dolly was on the subpoena list, but they were clearly players. Federal charges, federal grand jury, federal indictments.” He took a long drink of beer. “This Billings guy was questioned this morning, along with all the other residents in the condos. His story was verified by the hosts of the party and the woman he escorted outside for a short while. He had no reason to flash his badge.”

“What about Daniel and Lucy, who hosted the party?”

“Neither of them left their condo until the event broke up at ten, nor did anyone else. Do you think they’re on one side or the other?”

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “Dolly did say that there was someone here who might confide in me. They showed up in the store earlier on the day I found Petti in the freezer, and later they asked about Dolly’s whereabouts. Oh, and guess what? Cal dropped off another flower arrangement this afternoon. You need to find him.”

Peter sighed. “We need to find Madison Hayes. After what happened to Sara Louise, it’s getting harder to believe she’s holed up with some college boy in an apartment. Then again, it’s possible they’ve found more stimulating things to do than look at a newspaper or turn on the TV. Anything else?”

I told him about my encounter with Miss Groggin, which he found highly entertaining. After he quit chuckling, I went into the kitchen and returned with the wieners. We charred them to perfection, then called Caron and Inez to eat on the patio. We all lacked the energy to engage in even superficially clever conversation; most of the remarks involved ketchup and mustard. Before Peter left, he told me that officers would remain at the house all night and periodically patrol the backyard. I promised to lock up and switch on the alarm. His kiss was perfunctory, as was mine.

I left Caron and Inez making monstrous sundaes and went upstairs to my bedroom. I read for a long while, although by the penultimate chapter, I was unable to stop yawning. I put the book on the bedside table, scrunched up a pillow under my head, and went to sleep.

I awoke to a faint sound from downstairs. I rolled over and found the alarm clock, which read 3:17
A.M.
Blinking, I sat up and strained to grasp what I was hearing. Music, I finally realized, nearly inaudible, but the same music Caron and Inez had been playing earlier. Perhaps one or the other of them had gone down to the den to reflect on the wisdom of doing the tango at the talent contest.

I went along the hallway and opened their bedroom door. Both of their dear little heads were on pillows, and lumps under the blankets suggested the rest of them was also there. Curiouser and curiouser, I thought as I eased the door closed and went to the top of the stairs.

The police officers who were parked in the driveway had no access to the house. The alarm had not shrieked. Had a devious FBI agent, namely Gary Billings, found a way inside, he would hardly idle away the night listening to music, nor would an even more devious hitman. Hardly professional.

I could have gone into the bedroom vacated by Sara Louise, opened a window, and pitched a lamp in the direction of the police car. I could have returned to the girls’ room, locked the door, and called Peter. I could have armed myself with a can of pepper spray, but I’d never owned such a thing.

Having dismissed my other options, I took a breath and went downstairs.

A small lamp in a corner was adequate for me to identify the back of Dolly’s head as she sat on the sofa. She was swaying with the music, as if imagining herself in Bibi’s arms in the center of a glitzy ballroom.

I suppose I should have been shocked, stunned, and flabbergasted, but I was no more than bemused. If Petti had appeared from the living room, accompanied by Scarface, Bugsy, and Bibi, I would have introduced myself and offered them wine. The past week’s events had transcended any semblance of rationality; I was beyond being overwhelmed. “Hello,” I said as I came around the end of the sofa and sat down on the ottoman. “I thought you were in Miami.”

“Good evening, Claire. I’m so sorry if I disturbed you. Now that you’re up, would you like a cup of tea? I know I would.”

“I thought you were in Miami,” I repeated.

“And indeed I was,” she said. “Then I flew to Dallas, took one of those alarmingly bumpy commuter flights here, and rented a car. I thought it best to park it at the bottom of the hill. The police officers out in the driveway failed to notice me when I stayed in the shadows along the fence. I let myself in through the side door of the garage and reset the alarm. I must admit it’s been a long day. I do believe I’ll make some tea. Are you sure you won’t join me?” Without waiting for an answer, she headed for the kitchen.

I followed her. “Okay, now I know how you got here. Shall we move on to why you decided to come back?”

She filled the teakettle and set it on the stove. “Have the detectives made any progress finding out who killed Sara Louise?”

“Did you come back to help them, Dolly? Is that why you’re here? Wouldn’t a phone call have sufficed?”

“I wish I could tell you, dear, but it would put you and the girls in even more danger. It’s imperative that no one, including that handsome lieutenant of yours, knows I’m here. Rest assured I won’t be staying long.”

“You’ve already put us in danger,” I said, grinding out each word. “I deserve to know what the hell’s going on!”

Dolly waggled a finger at me. “Let’s not wake the girls, Claire. Is Madison here, too? It would be most inconvenient if she learns that I’ve returned.”

“She disappeared a couple of days ago. I suppose it would be inconvenient, since she and Sara Louise came down here to …” I grappled for a euphemism, then gave up and shrugged.

“Kill me? They most certainly did not come here for that purpose, but it’s possible they might have eventually. Well, they probably would have. Sara Louise has always been impetuous. When they used to come to the lake house, she was the one who bartered drugs for beer with the local boys. Bibi and I could not control her. I always thought her parents sent her to us simply to get her off their hands for a few weeks. Once she went away to college, she settled down and focused on getting her degrees.”

“And preparing herself for a position in the Velocchio family? A degree in international banking would have been useful when it came to moving money all over the world. Was Bibi her inspiration?”

Dolly took out teacups and a box of tea bags. “Sugar? Milk?”

“I’d prefer answers.”

“She was always fascinated with what Bibi did, although he was reluctant to discuss it with her. In this day and age, however, with all the electronic transfers, encryptions, and heightened scrutiny by dreary federal agencies, complex computer savvy is so very necessary. Bibi accepted that, and had decided to retire when he had the heart attack. We had such glorious plans for the future.”

“We’ve already had that conversation,” I said without sympathy. “Why don’t we talk about your old friend Petti? Did he come here specifically to tell you about the subpoenas? Couldn’t he have called or sent a postcard?”

Dolly put a teacup in front of me, then sat down. “There was a certain urgency, but neither of us could trust the telephone. He called someone else with the message that he was coming. I was subsequently informed where he would be staying. I should have known it was too risky to call that motel.”

“You weren’t worried that someone might follow you when you went to meet him Sunday evening?”

She smiled. “I took great care not to be followed, and at that point, I didn’t really understand how serious the situation was. In retrospect, I should have arranged a drop-off, but I was so eager to see Petti. He was a dear friend for many, many years. He and Bibi grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, played stickball, ate dinner at each other’s house. They were closer than most brothers. He and I were going to take Bibi’s ashes to the lake house and bury them on the hillside near the terrace where the three of us spent so many pleasant evenings.”

“Not in a Catholic cemetery?”

“I knew what Bibi would have wanted. Instead, I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to Petti after the funeral.”

“Because the FBI whisked you away and put you in the witness protection program?”

“You have been busy, haven’t you? Five minutes after the funeral was over, I was taken to the airport and given a new identity and a ticket. Five hours later, I landed at the Phoenix airport.”

“So you weren’t at home to receive visitors after the funeral. That must have aroused suspicion,” I said.

Dolly shook her head. “Not really. I’d told everyone I was going to stay with a cousin in Arizona. The Velocchios were supportive after Bibi’s death, even offering financial help, and I think they believed me when I said I needed to get away. A few weeks later, I sent a letter to Bibi’s sister, telling her I couldn’t bear to go back to the brownstone and was planning to buy a home in a retirement village near Phoenix. It was postmarked in Arizona, so I doubt any one of them even gave it a thought. The FBI is amazingly adept at that sort of thing.” She gazed at me, her eyebrows raised. “Which leads me to wonder how you found out.”

It was tempting to give her a dose of her own maddening medicine, but I said, “I had a drink this afternoon with an agent named Gary Billings. With a bit of provocation on my part, he showed me his badge.”

“Gary Billings?” Her spoon rattled in the teacup. “Here, in Farberville? That’s a silly question, isn’t it? You hardly could have flown to DC and back again. What did he have to say?”

“Then you know him?”

“He was one of the agents who took me to the airport, so I don’t know why I’m so surprised he’s here. Where did you tell him I was?”

“Miami,” I said. “He said he was aware that the Velocchios had come to find you, and that he’d come, in his words, ‘to assess the situation.’ Was he planning to relocate you?”

“That may have been his plan,” she said vaguely. “I’m exhausted, Claire. I’ll sleep in whichever room Sara Louise was using, and stay out of sight in the morning. Is there any chance Caron and Inez will go out tomorrow?”

I’d had enough of her evasions and lies. It was nearly 4:00
A.M.,
my head was throbbing, and I’d learned virtually nothing I wouldn’t have figured out on my own (although possibly later rather than sooner). “If you so much as put one toe on the floor, I’m going to call Lieutenant Rosen and tell him what’s going on. He will have you picked up immediately and offer you a thin, lumpy mattress for the remainder of the night. In a few hours, you’ll be served watery coffee, powdered eggs, and cold toast. Marmalade will not be an option. You’ll then spend the day in an interrogation room, as well as the day after unless Gary Billings takes you into federal custody. Two people have been killed. No one is taking it lightly. I am not going to do anything to help you unless you tell me the truth.”

“I thought you were my friend, Claire.”

“And I thought you were mine, until I realized that all you’ve done is lie to me.”

She stared at her teacup for a long while. “Perhaps we can compromise. I’ll tell you part of it now, and after I’ve had some sleep and time to think, I may be able to give you enough information so that you’ll understand better. Do I have your permission to make another cup of tea?”

Now I felt like a churlish child whose hand had been slapped. “Go ahead, but start talking.”

She went to the stove and switched on the burner. “Petti realized that when the subpoenas were issued, the Velocchio family might suspect that I had pertinent information concerning certain testimony. He heard rumors that they had located me, so he sent the message that he was coming and I picked him up at the motel so we could drive around and talk. He gave me his cell phone and several sets of false identification. After I dropped him off at the motel, I never saw or heard from him again. Someone must have followed him here and killed him.”

“Why his cell phone?”

“Because I didn’t have one and we wanted to stay in touch. He figured he could call me on it safely. He never did, obviously.”

“You could have bought one,” I pointed out.

“I didn’t think I had time. I had to pack and be ready for Caron to take me to the airport. Petti said he’d buy another one when he got home.”

“And you have no idea who killed him?”

“Or Sara Louise, either, if that’s your next question. Petti’s body was left in my yard to frighten me. I assumed that whoever the Velocchios had sent here would learn fairly quickly that I was gone, and that would be the end of it. I don’t know why Sara Louise and Madison stayed on like they did.”

I grimaced. “Their cunning plan involved disabling the car so that you’d feel obligated to take them in for a few days. You did call, however, and they must have thought I would be able to tell them where you were. They weren’t the only ones. You’d be flattered by the number of people who’ve been concerned over your whereabouts and indignant that you didn’t return immediately to clear things up. Everybody who saw the story in the paper has demanded updates, including customers at the store, the owner of the health food restaurant, the pool guys, and even the florist.”

Dolly glanced at the flowers at the end of the island. “The florist? It sounds as though you’ve been pestered incessantly. I’m truly sorry, Claire. As soon as I can, I’ll leave. It may be a few days, though. Is there any way you can explain my presence to the girls?”

“They know what’s going on, and they’re not happy campers,” I said. I thought about it for a moment, then added, “This is a long shot, but it might work for a day or two. They’re determined to learn the tango. If you can convince them that you’re not guilty of anything—which may take some work—and then offer to give them lessons, they may go along with it.”

‘Teenagers want to learn the tango? How very quaint. I would have thought they’d be more interested in this insipid contemporary music. Then again, I did notice that the videotapes were piled on the table and there was a CD in the player. I’ll talk to them in the morning, if it’s all right with you.” She put her cup in the sink. “I really need a few hours of sleep. You have every reason to distrust me, but I do hope we can reestablish our friendship.”

“You still haven’t told me why you came back.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. Which room was Sara Louise’s?”

I left my untouched teacup where it was and gestured for her to follow me. She waited at the bottom of the stairs while I went into the den to turn off the lamp and the music, and said nothing as we went upstairs. I indicated the room, and returned to mine. Whatever, I thought as I crawled into bed. Whatever.

The following morning when I awoke, I lay in bed for a long time, wondering if my encounter with Dolly had been nothing more than a diabolic dream. Each word and nuance were still clear, and I eventually concluded that I would find one teacup on the island and another in the sink. Which, regrettably, led to the question of whether I should have called Peter immediately—or should as soon as I got out of bed. I pulled a blanket over my face to block the sunlight and stayed where I was. The scenario I’d described to Dolly during our bizarre conversation would most certainly take place, most likely within minutes of my call. Gary Billings would swoop down like a buzzard. Ranting and raving would ensue as the FBI battled the Farberville CID. Judges might be hauled off golf courses to settle the custody dispute. The chief of police might be interrupted during brunch, which would make him all the more determined to have me pilloried on the courthouse steps. The prosecuting attorney, dragged away from his bloody marys and the Sunday newspaper, would charge me with harboring a fugitive—even if Dolly wasn’t technically one. He might opt for conspiracy instead, or high treason, as long as both carried the possibility of the death penalty.

And then there was Peter.

I had even less desire to get out of bed than I’d had the morning after giving birth to Caron, who, being a night owl even in utero, had refused to cooperate until nearly dawn. Thinking of her was enough to propel me to my feet and into the shower. I needed to be downstairs when she and Inez came to the kitchen for breakfast so that I could at least warn them of the considerable surprise awaiting them. I had no idea how they’d react, but I rarely did.

Dolly was asleep in the bed most recently used by Sara Louise, and the girls had flopped around since I’d last peeked in on them but were snuffling and snoring. I went downstairs to the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and then switched off the alarm before opening the front door. Officers Blinken and Nod had been relieved by two new officers of a similar appearance. I waved to them as I picked up the morning newspaper and went back inside.