Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery) by Sara M. Barton Page A

mother’s earlier comments about
the Wilson side of the family being responsible for my feistiness.
The truth is the Googins girls never can keep out of other people’s
business, even when they know better. Lacey and Laurel always find
a way to insert themselves into situations whenever they feel
fixing is needed, whether it is welcomed or not.
    “Just between us, Kenny is looking into it. He is
convinced that Jenny has family and he wants to know why they
weren’t at the memorial service.”
    “Not at the service? Terrible. Did they know her
mother had died?”
    “Good question, Mama. Maybe Steve was too busy
stealing the family fortune to notify them.”
    “She’s a smart girl. She should be in school,
Scarlet.” My mother looked up at me expectantly, as I arranged her
bedcovers.
    “We’re working on that. And I’ve got to see about
getting her a driving instructor.”
    “Dear lord, don’t tell Lacey that. She’ll insist on
taking the girl out on the road and we don’t want the girl to pick
up all those bad driving habits!”
    My mother has several grandchildren, of whom she is
very proud. Lacey, on the other hand, never quite got the requisite
number she planned for, and she was likely to adopt Jenny, whether
the teenager wanted to be or not. Even as I acknowledged my mother
had a point, I smiled. Lacey might just be the ticket for a lonely
orphan in need of instant family. Then again, my mother seemed to
have already laid claim to the girl as her protector. When it
rains, it pours.
    As soon as I bid my mother sweet dreams and shut her
door, I made my way down the hall to the Red Oak room. Jenny was
sitting in the chair, staring down at her Smartphone.
    “Busy?” I asked.
    “No,” she frowned. “I can’t figure out what to do
with my stupid phone. My charger is in my backpack.”
    “Where is your backpack?” I wondered.
    “I stashed it at that house where Richie took
me.”
    “Cops probably have it,” I replied. “What kind of
charger do you need? Maybe we have one that will work.”
    I took her down to the library, where we kept an
ancient Mac and a drawer full of abandoned electronic adapters of
every make, model, and size. Kenny was sitting on the sofa, waiting
for my return, and slightly surprised I brought company with
me.
    “Jenny needs to charge her phone. She left her
backpack in Bay Head. Any chance the cops found her stuff?”
    “I’ll call Sarge tomorrow and ask. If it’s there,
I’ll pick it up and bring it here on the weekend.”
    “Does that mean you’ll be staying with us again,
Captain Peacock?” I deposited the box of plugs and adapters on the
coffee table before him.
    “It just might. Let me see the phone, Jenny. What
have you got there?”
    “White or red?” I asked, on my way to the butler’s
pantry.
    “Red,” Kenny replied, busy digging through the
pile.
    I found an open bottle of Shiraz and poured a couple
glasses. On my way back to the library, I found myself thinking
about Jenny’s plight. Her mother had died two months ago. Her
stepfather made his move after the memorial service. Where had
Jenny been in the meantime? How had she survived? I posed the
question when I joined the pair a moment later.
    “I camped out. I had three hundred dollars in my bank
account, so I rented a space for my tent at the campground where my
mom and I used to stay up north. But then my money got low. Things
were okay for a while. Mr. and Mrs. Mann let me do some odd jobs,
to help pay for my tent site. But then one night this guy tried to
get fresh. Mr. Mann chased him off, but he said he was worried the
guy would cause trouble. Mrs. Mann said I should go stay with
family, and when I said I didn’t have any, she suggested friends.
That’s when I decided to go see Paula in Pennsylvania.”
    “That makes sense.”
    “Here you go,” said Captain Peacock, handing her an
adapter. “That seems to be working.”
    “Oh, goody. Now I can call Jessica.”
    “Who’s