“.He must have friends, some place he’d go to if he just went off for the hell of it. That’s what you still think, isn’t it?” he demanded, piercing me with a sharp eye.
“It’s a possibility.”
“I read the papers this morning. “No foul play indicated,’ they said. What I haven’t figured out is how you knew it last night in his bedroom. What did I miss? I didn’t see any bottles, didn’t smell booze. You went in there looking like a candidate for the Spanish Inquisition, and came out looking as if you’d beaten the rap.”
Despite the anachronism, he was too sharp to bluff, so I broke down and told him about the cigars being gone.
“Are you sure they were there when you left for the concert?”
“Pretty sure. And I’m positive his humidor wasn’t open. I noticed it, looking like a little coffin.”
He measured me, trying to decide whether to take offence. “Why didn’t you tell me about that last night? In fact, you were pretty reluctant to tell me anything.”
“I didn’t want to spread it around that he’s hiding—it looks bad. People might get the idea he was drunk, and I don’t believe that.”
“I see. And naturally I, a tourist in town, would’ve grabbed the closest phone and announced it to the papers. What do you take me for?”
“A stranger. Who knows what a stranger might do? Anyway, I did tell you.”
“Eventually. I don’t know what your average run-of-the-mill stranger might do, but this one is getting damned bored doing nothing. Have you come up with any ideas as to where he might be?”
I thought about it for a minute. “He has a cottage up north. Not too far—about forty miles. There’s no phone, or I’d give him a call. Or we could drive up . .
He was already on his feet, reaching for his hat. “We could be there in an hour. You won’t miss much here. If he comes back, he’ll be here waiting for you.”
“All right. Let’s go.” You can only look at a mute phone so long without picking it up and throwing it out a window. It was a lovely day, and it was a nice drive up to Victor’s cottage in the Caledon Hills. Maybe he was there; he didn’t seem to be anywhere else.
Mrs. Friske’s door opened a crack when we went into the ball. I wondered if she always monitored the traffic so closely, or was on the alert today for my uncle’s return. Whatever was going on between her and Victor, I hoped she’d keep it from the police for a little longer.
“Friend of yours?” Sean asked, after she’d closed the door. He didn’t miss much.
“Not particularly. Why, were you hoping for an introduction?”
“I didn’t get that good a look at her. If she always haunts the hail like she is now, she might be able to tell us something.”
“I already asked. No luck.” I didn’t add her worrying message to Victor. There are some skeletons best kept in the closet, and I was worried about just what kind of bones I was dealing with here. Did women still prosecute for breach of promise? I couldn’t imagine what else but romance Betty and Victor shared. Whatever her intentions might have been, I doubted very much he’d used the word “marriage”. He was too experienced for that. And so was she.
CHAPTER 5
Sean was still driving the same rented car, a silver Monte Carlo. I gave him directions, and we were soon past the built-up commercial area and suburbs, heading north.
A beatific smile took strong possession of Sean’s face. “God’s country,” he crooned. “Jeez, would I love to live somewhere like this. No pollution, no traffic.”
“No restaurants, no stores, no people to talk to. Just a man and his hoss.”
“And his woman,” he added, flashing a smile.
I could see what he meant though. The sky was as blue and smiling as Irish eyes. A frolicsome wind blew a few cotton clouds along, high overhead. The world out here looked brand new. The leaves were still shiny, a pale shade of green. Solemn pines stood guard over the countryside.
Ian Morson
R.S. Wallace
Janice Cantore
Lorhainne Eckhart
Debbie Moon
Karen Harbaugh
Lynne Reid Banks
Julia London
David Donachie
Susan Adriani