Carolyn G. Hart_Henrie O_04 by Death in Paradise Page B

a houseman, chauffeur and general dogs-body since Belle’s early days in Japan.
    â€œThat Mackey! I never did like him.” Maria Rodriguez’s mouth folded in a stubborn, angry line.
    â€œWhy not?” I asked mildly.
    Her eyes slid away from mine. “Whenever they come up from Dallas, he always had Johnnie hang around with him. And there was no call for it.” Her bony face was both angry and anguished.
    â€œIf he hired Johnnie to work around the place—”
    â€œHe’d keep Johnnie late. And what for?” she demanded. “Can’t work after dark. But he’d invite Johnnie to his quarters, show him art books.” She stared down at the floor. “I didn’t like it.”
    â€œBut on the Friday that CeeCee disappeared, Johnnie was in and out of the Ericcson place working for Mackey. Is that right? And Johnnie didn’t come home for supper?”
    â€œNo’m. He come in about seven and said he was sorry but he’d had to work late. He was kind of excited.” She finally looked up, her eyes dark with pain. “But I thought it was just because that Mackey was down here. Johnnie always liked to hang around with him. Johnnie was in a real good humor, kept grinning to himself. ’Course this was before we knew Miss CeeCee’d been taken.”
    CeeCee Ericcson had stopped for gas in Pottsboro at a quarter to six.
    No one ever admitted seeing her after that.
    Lester Mackey later told police he’d found CeeCee’s Mercedes a few minutes before seven o’clock on Friday night in the drive in front of the lake house. Mackey said the driver’s door was open and the keys were in the ignition. CeeCee’s purse lay in the passenger seat.
    Mackey moved the car around to the garage. The housewas locked. He opened the front door, went inside, turned on the lights. He put the keys in a wooden tray on a side table. He said nobody was in the house. As far as he knew. He didn’t go upstairs, but he said no lights were on.
    It was dark by then.
    Mackey later told police he’d had a few drinks so he went around to his quarters and fixed himself some dinner and watched TV and didn’t think again about the car. He said he figured CeeCee had gone off to dinner with someone else in the family and they’d be coming in later.
    It was a large family with members who came and went, of course, as they pleased. No one had any particular schedule that weekend, no set time to appear at the lake.
    The alarm wasn’t raised until Saturday afternoon.
    Maria reached out for her coffee mug, stared down into the dark brew. “I was there when Miz Ericcson got the letter. On Saturday. It come in a mail truck.”
    Express Mail. The police traced it to a Gainesville Express Mail receptacle. It was processed shortly after 8 P.M. Friday. The return address was a downtown business, an insurance company. No one there had ever had any contact with CeeCee or any of the other family members.
    On Saturday afternoon, Belle was carrying a pile of brightly wrapped birthday presents into the living room of the lake house when the mail truck arrived.
    â€œI took the envelope from the postman.” Maria hunched over her coffee mug. “One of the boys—I think it was Mr. Joss—said something about his mama never getting away from work. Miz Ericcson laughed and said she did too get away from work, and whatever it was, Elise could see to it. That was her secretary. So I carried the envelope over to Miss Elise. She said, ‘I’ll take care of it, Belle. This is your weekend to enjoy.’ She opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper. Then her smile kind of slipped sideways and she made a gasping noise and said, ‘Oh, my God. Oh, my God.’”
    Maria put down the mug, the coffee untasted. “It got real quiet in the room. Real quiet. We all knew it was something awful. Miss Elise tried to talk, she opened her mouth and finally, her