Читать книгу Up Close and Personal - Fern Michaels - Страница 14

Mitzi Granger stared at her inebriated nephew for a full five minutes before she made the decision to load him into her SUV. It wasn’t easy with Annabelle and Jezebel getting in the way. She knew, just the way she knew everything, that Jake would be mortified to wake up at her place with a king-size hangover. He was like a Gumby figure as she pushed and shoved to get him into the backseat, where he went limp. Annabelle leaped over him as Jezebel swooped through the open door. “Jake’s sick, Jake’s sick!” the parrot squawked.

“Jezebel, get your feathered ass out of this truck right now. Jake’s not sick, he’s drunk. Get your facts straight, Jezzie.”

“Jake’s drunk, Jake’s drunk!” the parrot continued to squawk as Solomon, the golden retriever, hopped into the truck and settled on Jake’s chest. Annabelle, who was no bigger than Solomon, settled herself next to the golden dog and started to make funny noises. At least Jake thought they were funny. He started to laugh and couldn’t stop.

“Okay, everybody out!” Mitzi shouted. The animals ignored her. Jake continued to laugh. Mitzi grinned as she slipped behind the wheel in her bare feet. “Well, this will certainly give the town something to chew on for a few days.”

“Where’re we going, Mitz?” Jake bellowed as he tried to sit upright.

“Over the rainbow!” Jezebel squawked.

“Is there a pot of gold there?” Jake demanded as he stared glassy-eyed at the colorful parrot. “Huh?”

“That response is not in Jezzie’s vocabulary, Jacob.”

Her eyes on the road, the cars, and the scenery, Mitzi put the pedal to the metal and drove like a maniac. She knew that none of the cops would pull her over because she was the one who paid for the Policeman’s Ball, the PBA carnival, donated heavily to whatever the department needed, and could always be counted on. What would Crestwood’s finest do?—they would escort her home with sirens wailing, hoping to embarrass her. That word wasn’t in her vocabulary. Twice she offered up a single-digit salute to sedans going a sedate seventy miles an hour. She was rewarded by the irate motorists with blasts of sound that she totally ignored. Not so Jezebel, who fluttered and cussed with gay abandonment.

“Here we are, darlin’! Safe and sound. Do I have to help you out? If I do, my other passengers are going to bolt. C’mon, c’mon, darlin’, shake it. I have things to do and places to go.”

Jake did his best to untangle himself as he literally slid out of the SUV. He landed with a loud thump on his rear end.

“Oh, oh!” Jezebel squawked.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Hell no, I’m not okay,” Jake said, struggling to his feet. “I’ll live, though. Thanks for bringing me home, Mitzi.”

Mitzi waited until Jake climbed the steps, slipping and sliding, and opened the door. The minute the apartment door closed, Mitzi slammed the SUV into REVERSE and peeled out of the parking lot. “Hang on, boys and girls, we’re going for a ride.” The animals settled down immediately, even Jezebel, who perched on the dashboard, her wings fluttering at the high rate of speed and the breeze coming in the half-open window.

Mitzi swirled into the Hendersons’ driveway, gravel spurting in all directions. She was glad dusk was settling. She was almost certain Sarabess Windsor wouldn’t see her from the Hill. If she did, oh, well, that was the way the cookie crumbled sometimes.

Mitzi hopped out of the car, looked around, then marched, still in her bare feet, to the front door of the small house. She rapped sharply on the screen door. Lillian Henderson gasped when she saw who her visitor was.

Mitzi wasted no time in amenities. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Trinity returning the money she borrowed? You better hope you still have that envelope, Lillian.”

Lillian held the screen door open and motioned for Mitzi to come in. “Come into the kitchen, Mitzi. John is down at the barn. We can talk. Can I get you anything to drink, and perhaps a piece of cake?”

“Just the envelope. After all I’ve done for you and Trinity, you owed me that at least,” Mitzi said.

Lillian wiped at her eyes with the hem of her apron. “I wanted to, Mitzi, I really did. John wouldn’t allow it. You know how he is…was back then. He told me to burn the envelope. I don’t know how I did it but I substituted another envelope. I guess I knew this day was going to come sooner or later. I didn’t want her to find Trinity. I figured, sooner or later, as I told John, Her Highness would want to find her. Especially with Emily passing and all. I just didn’t think it would take her so long to get around to it. Your nephew was here, and I told him about Trinity returning the money but I didn’t tell him I still had the envelope. I told him…because Trinity was so fond of him. What are you going to do, Mitzi?”

Mitzi looked down at her bare feet. “Would you look at that? I forgot my shoes. Where’s the envelope?”

Lillian walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets and opened it. She pulled out a battered old cookbook that was thicker than the New York telephone directory. “I wrapped it in tinfoil to protect it. The postmark isn’t legible, Mitzi.”

“Maybe not to the naked eye, but there are tests that can be done to bring the name to the surface. I wish you had given me this a long time ago. I could have helped her. God knows what she had to endure out there on her own. If there’s anything else you haven’t told me, now is the time to get it off your chest. Is it possible she found out she was Sarabess’s daughter? The truth, Lillian. There has to be a reason for her to have bolted like that in the middle of the night.”

Lillian bunched the bottom of her apron in her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know. I suppose she might have heard me and John arguing. You know what a curmudgeon he can be. This is the only life we’ve ever known. You know how Sarabess is; she could boot us both out of here on any kind of a wild whim. We both know she is not a kind person. Where would we go, how would we survive? Our savings wouldn’t last long. I’m sorry, Mitzi, so very sorry.”

“Well, for starters, you could have come to work for me. I would have paid you decently and put a roof over your head. That husband of yours is more stubborn than a mule. This is the result.”

“For God’s sake, Mitzi, the girl wasn’t ours. We just took care of her. I did my best not to love her because in my heart I knew one day she’d go up there to that Hill, and I’d eat my heart out. John…John wouldn’t allow himself to get close to her for the same reason. Sometimes, late at night, Mitzi, when John thought I was asleep, he’d go to her room and just stare at her. Curmudgeon that he can be, he always had tears in his eyes. Despite all that, our hearts were broken when Trinity ran away. John wasn’t himself for years.”

Mitzi leaned across the table and patted Lillian’s hand. “I know, I know. It’s my own guilt, Lillian. I promised Harold I would…Let’s just say I promised him nothing bad would ever happen to Trinity. I have to leave now. I’ll call you if anything turns up.”

Lillian walked with Mitzi to the door. Both women stood on the small front porch and looked up at the Hill. It was lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I think she’s afraid of the dark,” Lillian said.

“Miss Sarabess Windsor is afraid of a lot more than the dark, Lillian. Don’t tell John I was here. He might get upset.”

Five minutes later, Mitzi was barreling down the highway, her eyes filled with tears.

Mitzi marched into the police station like she owned the place. She wrinkled her nose as she moved over to the desk sergeant. “Good morning, William. I know it’s early, and you just came on duty, but I wanted to beat the rush. I need a favor, and I need it right away. I want your crime laboratory people to tell me what this postmark is.” She slid the small square she’d cut off the envelope Lillian had given her (so that no one would know who the addressee was) across the sergeant’s desk.

“What exactly does ‘right away’ mean, Miss Mitzi?”

“One hour, William. I’m going to class now, and I’ll be back. You need to get some deodorizers in here. Maybe some bleach or…something.”

“I’ll pass that along. You’re looking a bit peekid, Miss Mitzi,” William said.

Mitzi grimaced. Of course she looked peekid. She hadn’t slept a wink. Then she remembered she never really slept. Maybe she would double up on her vitamins.

The desk sergeant winked at Mitzi. “Go on and bend yourself in two. I’ll have the information by the time you get back.”

Mitzi waved airily as she sprinted out the door, holding her nose to make a point.

Mitzi felt her heart skip a beat when she entered the station an hour later.

William was smiling from ear to ear. “Got it for you, Miss Mitzi.”

“Oh, you dear, sweet soul, I owe you for this. This is really important, William, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You know, Miss Mitzi, fifteen years ago when this letter was sent, the lab might not have been able to clear this up but with all the modern technology we have, thanks to you, we got you the name of the town. The town is called Spangler. Look, I’m not going to ask you what this is all about, but if you need our help, just let us know. We can go where you can’t go, that kind of thing. Cop to cop, we might be able to help you. Just tuck that into the back of your mind, okay?”

“Okay, William. Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Miss Mitzi. You drive slow now. We pulled you over seven times this month. You have to stop taking that goat and parrot with you when you skedaddle around, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Mitzi mumbled as she danced her way out of the station. She called a greeting to this one, asked another one about the kids, agreed with others about the beautiful June weather.

Back in her SUV, Mitzi looked down at the lab report and the little square with the faded postmark in the clear plastic envelope. Spangler, Pennsylvania. All she had to do now was go on the Internet, do a search, print out her findings, and dump it all in Jake’s lap. Woohoo, she thought, things were starting to pick up, and if there was one thing she loved in this life, it was a good skirmish, especially if said skirmish might lead to knocking Miss Sarabess Windsor on her elegant, haughty ass.

Thirty minutes later Mitzi was surfing the web. Far from being a computer wizard, she had to go to several sites before she found what she wanted. She printed out the zip code, which was 15775. She searched for the weather and population.

Small town, way smaller than Crestwood. A perfect place to get lost in for a young girl on the run. Small coal-mining town a long time ago. On the other hand, wouldn’t a runaway stick out like the proverbial sore thumb? How did Trinity get there? Did she hitchhike? Probably. Mitzi shuddered at the thought. Gory headlines of missing children pricked at her closed eyelids. Still, fifteen years ago things weren’t as bad as they were today.

Mitzi sat patiently as the skimpy information printed out. She used the time to remember how many detective agencies she’d hired to find Trinity, all to no avail. All of them said the same thing: Trinity Henderson had disappeared off the face of the earth. And those agencies were supposed to be the best of the best.

Mitzi’s housekeeper, who was as quirky as her mistress, appeared in the doorway. “I fed the animals. I made you a soybean loaf, a baked potato, and some tofu and some kind of green stuff that’s going to make you poop green. Call me on my cell if you think you’re dying from eating that crap. I’m going to the movies.”

“What did you have for dinner, Celeste?” The housekeeper’s name wasn’t really Celeste. It was Myrna Wojouski. Mitzi thought the name Celeste sounded more ethereal, more in tune with the stars and the universe.

“I had a small T-bone that was very pink, French fries with lots of ketchup, some fresh string beans, and a brownie with ice cream.”

Mitzi snorted. “Then you better call me on the house phone in case you keel over. I thought I heard your arteries snapping shut a while ago. What are you going to see?”

“A Brad Pitt movie. You know how I lust after him.”

“Are you still writing fan letters to him that he doesn’t answer?”

“He’s busy, Mitzi. I never expect an answer.”

“That’s your problem, Celeste, you have no expectations. Why do you spend money to fatten his bank account if he doesn’t have time to answer your letters?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I should be back by ten thirty. I might stop for a banana split before coming home.”

Mitzi waved good-bye and went back to sorting through the papers she’d printed out. It certainly wasn’t much in the way of information but if Jake actually went to Spangler, Pennsylvania, he could ask questions, show off his charm. Few women could resist her nephew’s pleasing personality. Everyone who met Jake liked him. He was a guy’s guy, too.

Should she go over to Jake’s now or wait till morning? Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Mitzi slipped on a pair of sandals and beelined out the door before the animals got wind that she was going cruising.

As she whizzed down the highway, Mitzi wondered where the day had gone. Hours these days just seemed to fly by. She’d read an article that said as a person grew older, time went faster. Maybe the writer of that particular article wasn’t an idiot after all.

Jake was standing in the open doorway of his apartment when his aunt screeched to a stop in her SUV. He wondered where her fancy Jaguar was. She’d probably burned off the rubber on the tires. She was up to something. He could tell. And, she had a sheaf of papers in her hand. He felt a quiver of apprehension as he waited for Mitzi to climb the steps. Sometimes she reminded him of a gazelle.

“I come bearing news, darlin’. I have here in my hand the possible location of one Trinity Henderson. Now that you’re unemployed, I was wondering if you might be interested in checking this out. Of course, if you aren’t interested, I can always turn it over to an investigative agency. If you decide to check it out yourself, no one needs to know. I know how to keep my lips zipped.”

Jake stared at his aunt as he reached for the papers. “You want me to do this, don’t you, Mitzi? Do you mind telling me why?”

Mitzi turned on her heel. “What a silly question. Trinity was Harold’s daughter. Does that answer your question?”

“Guess so. I’ll let you know what I decide.”

“That works for me, darlin’.”