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Authors: Joan Hess

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“A bookstore, eh?” he said. “Out at the mall?”

“On Thurber Street, next to the railroad tracks. Come by and browse when you have time. Customers are always welcome.”

“If I should come by about the time you’re closing, could I persuade you to have a drink with me?” He held up his hand. “Please don’t think I’m being pushy, Ms. Malloy. It’s just that the only person I’ve met in Farberville is Manny’s bookkeeper. She’s seventy-seven years old and refuses to wear a hearing aid. I tried a couple of bars, but everybody there was in college. I’m getting so old that I’ve never even heard of the bands they talk about, and their music is crap.”

I had a feeling that under the jumpsuit was the buff pool guy Peter had mentioned as a potential nemesis. However, I doubted Nick would show up at the Book Depot in a skimpy pair of shorts and a bare chest. “Maybe in a few days,” I said.

“Okay, then,” he said, sounding disappointed but not inclined to do himself bodily harm anytime soon. “I will leave the bill on the table in the hall if that’s okay. I’ll just let myself out so’s not to disturb you anymore.”

I nodded, then watched him as he went into the house, glanced back at me, and assiduously closed the sliding glass door. Muscles were definitely rippling under the khaki, like a tawny lion stealthily moving in on an oblivious gazelle. I warned myself not to entertain heretical ideas and leaned back in the chair. Peter was far from flabby and could ripple with the best of them. I imagined him swimming laps in the pool, effortlessly, his shoulder blades cutting through the water, his adorable rump surfacing every now and then. …

Several minutes later I was roused from my reverie by the sound of a car door slamming and an engine starting. If the girls had once again fled rather than clean up the kitchen, I thought crossly, they very well might end up sleeping with the squirrels. It might not prove to be comfortable, but at least it would be preferable to sleeping with the sharks.

“Ms. Malloy,” called Madison from the doorway, “do you know where Dolly keeps her wok?”

Caron and Inez were surly during dinner, but roused themselves to offer halfhearted expressions of appreciation whenever I kicked them under the table. I’d expected Madison and Sara Louise to chatter, but they were subdued. I dug into the lemongrass and other exotica with some degree of enthusiasm, but I couldn’t help feeling as though we were at the mess hall in a prison, with steely matrons watching us.

Madison set down her fork. “I just love Thai. One of my very favorite places at home is this tiny little restaurant run by an immigrant and his family. It’s so quaint and authentic.”

“Then you’ve been to Thailand?” I asked politely.

“Heavens, no.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s one of those Third World places with lepers and cripples on every corner. I know it would just break my heart to see little children begging on the street. And the lack of hygiene would revolt me.”

Caron pushed away her plate and crossed her arms. “So how do you know this tiny restaurant is authentic?”

“Please,” said Sara Louise, “let’s just drop it. Madison and I thought we might borrow Dolly’s car, if it’s not a problem, and catch a movie or something. We may stop at a bar before we come back, so don’t wait up for us.”

I felt the lemongrass beginning to intertwine with my intestines. “What about the kitchen?”

“We’ll clean up and put everything away when we get back,” she said.

Madison smiled at me. “We certainly don’t expect you to lift a finger, Ms. Malloy. This meal is our special treat. It’s just that we’d like to see more of this little town before we leave because it’s so … typical, if you know what I mean. True Americana. I’m sure the pollsters love this place when they want to know what the average citizen thinks—or doesn’t think—about vital issues.”

I looked at Caron, who was rolling her eyes in a most unattractive fashion. “Are you and Inez planning to go out tonight? I suppose you can take my car.”

“No, Mother. We thought we’d watch movies. If we get hungry, we can make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“Or nachos with Velveeta cheese,” said Inez. “Maybe we can have tuna fish and noodles tomorrow for dinner. We can eat on trays and watch reruns of
Green Acres.”

My lips quivered. “Then we’re settled. Madison, I do expect you and Sara Louise to clean up the kitchen before you go to bed. I’m not sure when the cleaning service comes, but I doubt that’s in their job description.”

Sara Louise sounded offended as she said, “I can assure you we’ll take care of it. Please don’t even bother to take your dirty dishes to the kitchen. It will be spotless in the morning.”

“And I’ll be engaged to Prince Rainier,” muttered Caron as they went into the hall, took the car keys from the table, and called goodnight as they left. “I swear, Mother, if you don’t get rid of them soon, I’ll move back home and take my chances with the cockroaches and the fleas.”

“And the rats.”

“Rats?” Her lower lip shot out as she recoiled with revulsion. “We have rats?”

“I’ve only seen one in the apartment,” I said, “and Mr. Kalker promised to send over an exterminator. I myself prefer to stay here until the exterminator has had plenty of time to set out poison and spray the entire building. If you want to go home, it’s up to you.”

“Did you really see a rat?” whispered Inez. “How big was it?”

“Does it matter? Are you two sure you don’t want to see what your friends are doing? You can invite them over to swim or just sit out by the pool if you’d like.”

Caron sighed. “Have you already forgotten that we don’t have any friends, Mother? I don’t know how I’ll survive until I graduate and can go away to a college where everyone isn’t a pathetic sycophant. Maybe Dolly will let us spend our weekends here watching old movies and eating stale popcorn.”

“And knitting,” said Inez in an equally morose voice.“My mother says it can be very soothing. She made a sweater for my father, but the sleeves weren’t the same length.”

“This problem with your friends is temporary,” I said. “Once they get tired of Rhonda, or she of them, they’ll be back.”

Caron slumped back in the chair. “You don’t understand, Mother. We’re going to be juniors when school starts in August. You know how the politicians have to fight during the primaries so they can win the nomination? This is our primary season. We have to get our delegates in a row this summer.”

I had to think about this. “And there are elections in the fall?”

“No,” said Inez, blinking at me, “but once we have a solid political base, we’ll be ready for the elections for senior class officers in the spring.”

“And we have to line them up this summer, so they can begin campaigning,” said Caron. “Aly’s on the varsity basketball team, so she can work on the athletes. Emily’s a shoo-in for the National Honor Society, which will give us the geek faction. Carrie is in the choir and the drama department. I may use her as a coach.”

“Then they’re just puppets in your Machiavellian scheme to seize power in your senior year?” I asked, appalled.

“You think Rhonda Maguire really likes them? She probably can’t keep their names straight.” Caron stood up. “Come on, Inez, I can hardly wait for the St. Valentine’s Day massacre. I just wish I could insert a few more characters.”

She and Inez went into the den. I looked at the dishes on the table, then decided to trust Madison and Sara Louise to follow through on their promise to clean up when they returned. I had well-founded doubts, but I was not in the mood to wash the wok. Unlike Caron, I harbored no desire to be a scullery maid. Or a nanny, for that matter. I’d received an honorable discharge from that position and would, when the time came, be relieved of all maternal obligations and allowed to retire with great fanfare. In my dreams, anyway.

I poured the last of the tepid tea in my cup and went out to the patio. Lights sparkled on the water. The neighbors— professors and retirees, for the most part—were ensconced in their homes, reading erudite tomes, groaning over freshman essays, or watching baseball and sputtering maledictions at the umpires. Whatever their vices, they were engaging in them peacefully. A pine-scented breeze rustled the leaves. I was imagining Peter next to me, our fingers entwined, our thoughts decidedly amorous, when the phone rang. I dashed inside, but was not quickly enough to beat Caron.

She glared at me, then said, “Hello?” After a moment, her shoulders slumped and she thrust the phone at me. “It’s for you.”

“Claire? It’s Dolly. I’m just checking in to let you know I made it to Dallas and am having a lovely time. My sister’s doing a bit better, I think. She’s not able to leave the house, so I picked up some Tex-Mex and a bottle of tequila. My niece makes a very tasty margarita. I really must get her recipe before I come home.”

“Oh, yes,” I said, almost giddy with relief. “I tried to call you last night, but apparently the number’s not in working order.”

“She’s been having a problem with the telephone company. I tried all afternoon to get things straightened out, but each time I actually spoke to a real person, we were disconnected. You’d think
they’d
know how to make their own system work, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” I said. I explained about Madison and Sara Louise, then nervously waited for her reaction.

After what felt like an interminable pause, she said, “I don’t have a problem with them staying there, Claire, unless they’re bothering you. Did they happen to mention how they got my address?”

“No, they didn’t say anything, and it never occurred to me to ask. Is there some reason why they wouldn’t know it?”

“I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. As I told you, I haven’t been in touch with Bibi’s family since the funeral.”

I waited for a moment in case she wished to elaborate, which she did not, then continued. “We had an odd experience yesterday afternoon. Caron and Inez swore they saw a dead body under the pine trees behind the gazebo.”

“A dead body in my yard? Are you sure?”

“I’m not, but they are.”

“Are you making this up, Claire? If this is meant to be a joke, it’s in very bad taste. I… I don’t know what to think.”

“I wish it were a joke,” I said. “The girls ran into the house and called the emergency number, but by the time the police arrived, the body had disappeared. The police were convinced that he was more likely drunk or ill, and left under his own power.”

Dolly exhaled slowly. “So it was a man. Did the girls get a good look at him?”

“They said they did.” I repeated their description, then asked, “Does this sound like one of your neighbors?”

“I haven’t really met anyone. I tend to keep to myself when I’m home, and the wall prevents me from seeing anyone who uses the alley as a shortcut. I do hear voices out there every now and then. Are the police investigating further?”

“There’s not much they can do. No one has filed a missing-person’s report, and as I said, the body was gone when the police arrived.”

“And they believe he simply got up and left? Why would he have come into my yard in the first place?”

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” I acknowledged, “and Caron and Inez had been watching Bibi’s gangster movies half the night. Their imaginations may have gotten the better of them.”

“I heard that!” Caron squawked from the den.

Dolly chuckled. “Perhaps we’d better drop the subject. It sounds as though you have matters well under control, Claire. I’ll call you once I get the mess with the telephone company resolved. Go have a glass of brandy and don’t worry about a thing.” On that cheerful note, she hung up.

I decided to take her advice. Ignoring the disastrous mess in the kitchen, I poured myself an inch of brandy in a bona fide snifter, wished the girls goodnight, and went upstairs. Dolly was not distraught, and therefore I had no reason to be so, either. I opened a window, puttered around until I was ready for bed, then crawled under the covers with a cozy tale of murder most foul in the quaint village of Quirky-by-the-Sea.

The vicar had just presented himself in the drawing room when Caron and Inez stumbled into the room like knock-kneed foals.

“The body!” Caron shrieked, clutching Inez’s arm in a bloodless grip. “It’s back!”

Chapter Three

What do you mean?” I said as I scrambled out of bed, allowing the vicar to flop facedown on the carpet. “Where? Behind the gazebo? What were you doing out there?”

Caron sank onto the edge of the bed and began to snuffle. I stared at Inez, who said, “By the pool. We saw him through the sliding glass door. He’s most likely still there.”

“By the pool,” I repeated weakly. I went to the window and looked down. There was most definitely someone in one of the lounge chairs, although the umbrella blocked my view of all but trouser cuffs and shoes. I stared for most of a minute, expecting a sudden disruption to the surreal placidity of the scene, but not so much as a moth fluttered by. “Are you sure it’s the same … person?”

Inez nodded. “Oh, yes. Chubby face, wire-rimmed glasses, bald head, all that. It was too dark to tell if his eyes were open. He didn’t look like he was breathing, though.”

“As if you could tell,” muttered Caron. “Maybe you should have gone outside and asked him if he needed CPR.”

“I guess I’d better go have a look,” I said without enthusiasm.

Caron scrambled to her feet. “You can’t go down there, Mother! What if this is some kind of trick to lure you outside so they can get you? Then I’ll be a foster child and be packed off to live at a pig farm. I’ll have to go to a one-room school-house. I won’t be able to get into a college, so I’ll just stay at the farm, drive a pickup truck, and grow old and stinky. When I die, they’ll plow me under a field for fertilizer. Maybe they’ll put up a crude wooden marker that reads, ‘Here lies Caron Malloy under forty acres of organically grown alfalfa.’“

I caught her shoulder before she could throw herself on me with further capricious descriptions of her fate. Holding her at arm’s length, I said, “I promise I won’t go out to the patio. As soon as I’ve taken a better look at this … person, I’ll come right back up here and we can decide what to do.”

“You really should be careful, Ms. Malloy,” said Inez. “Caron could be right, you know.” She hesitated. “About someone luring you outside. I’m not sure about the pig farm and the alfalfa.”

“Of course I’m right!” Caron snapped, then gave me the piteous look she had perfected after years of practice in the bathroom mirror. “Promise you won’t go outside, Mother.”

“I won’t even open the sliding door. Now just wait here.” I went out to the hall and started down the stairs, hoping I would be able to keep my promise. I would have to ascertain if the man was dead, as Caron and Inez fervently believed, or if he was merely enjoying the evening ambience (and oblivious to the transgression of trespassing). The latter theory certainly made more sense, in that corpses, unlike buffalo, seldom roam.

I’d reached the bottom step when I heard frantic pounding on the front door, along with shrieks of distress. I froze in mid-step, as much out of confusion as of panic.

“What’s going on?” howled Caron from the top of the staircase. “Should I call 911?”

My grip tightened on the banister. “Not yet. There’s someone at the front door.”

“Don’t open it,” Inez quavered.

The pounding increased in urgency, as did the shrieking. I finally realized the voice belonged to Madison, rather than a B-grade movie heroine resisting the advances of a hand-sewn suitor. I went to the door and swung it open. “What’s wrong?”

She barged into the entry hall. Seconds later, Sara Louise followed her, locked the door, then leaned against it and groaned. Madison was struggling to find a breath, having spent her reserves rousing the entire neighborhood, and perhaps the west side of town. Both were disheveled and ashen.

“Well?” I said.

Sara Louise recovered first. “We started feeling guilty about the mess in the kitchen, so we decided to skip the movie and come back here.”

“Besides,” added Madison, having finally found a few wisps of oxygen, “we’d already seen everything playing. Like over a year ago, if you can believe it. Do they send movies here by mule train?”

It was not a topic worthy of debate at the moment. “So you came back. Did you discover you didn’t have a house key and could think of no other way to attract our attention? There is a doorbell, after all.”

Sara Louise glared at me. “When we got out of the car, a man came charging at us from the bushes. He grabbed Madison’s arm, so I whacked him with my purse. Then he swung around and knocked me down. I grabbed his leg, but he kicked me until I let go. Madison screamed and ran onto the porch. The man took off. I went to the end of the driveway and tried to see which way he went, but I couldn’t tell. You know the rest.”

“It was horrid,” Madison said as she examined her arm. “I’m going to have the most hideous bruises tomorrow.”

“Do you have any idea who he was?” I asked, shaken if not stirred.

She shook her head. “It was awfully dark and it happened so fast. I guess it was just a redneck bastard who followed us here to mug us—or worse. I don’t want to think what might have happened if I’d been alone.”

I glanced at Sara Louise, who shrugged and said, “I agree with Madison that someone must have followed us, or maybe it was just a kid looking for something to steal. It certainly wasn’t anyone we know. It’s not as though we were beaten or raped.”

“Mother!” said Caron. “Should I call 911?”

“Let’s not get hysterical,” said Sara Louise. She winced as she straightened up and pushed back her hair. “There’s absolutely no way I can identify the creep—and neither can Madison.”

“Yeah, just forget about it, Ms. Malloy,” Madison said in a sulky voice.

I was beginning to feel as though the house belonged to Vincent Price rather than Dolly Goforth. “I’ll decide what to do in a minute. There’s another problem that requires my attention.”

Sara Louise arched her carefully plucked eyebrows. “Another problem? Is this typical when you house-sit?”

“Stay here, or go upstairs and whimper with Caron and lnez.” I went across the living room, switched on the outside lights, and stared through the glass at the lounge chairs on the patio. None of them was occupied. No shoes, no cuffs. No dark blobs floating in the pool. In essence, no body. The bottles of lotion were upright on the table, and the towels were still discarded on the concrete. The whole area looked exactly as it had when I’d been out there earlier.

Caron and Inez had ventured downstairs and were waiting with Madison and Sara Louise, if not precisely consoling them. I went to the phone, took a breath, then dialed 911. When a voice responded, I said, “I need to report an attempted assault in the front yard. It took place less than five minutes ago, and the assailant might still be out there.” I then dutifully answered a barrage of questions as best I could, acknowledging that I was not the homeowner, spelling my name, and so forth.

“You the lieutenant’s girlfriend?” the dispatcher asked.

“That’s hardly the issue. Are you going to send a patrol car, or should I call Lieutenant Rosen at home? We both know how fond he is of being disturbed when he’s off duty.”

“A patrol car’s already on the way. Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?”

“Very sure.” I hung up.

“What about the dead man?” said Caron. “You didn’t even mention that pesky little detail.”

“Not there. Were you or Inez keeping an eye on him from the window?”

“Believe it or not, we were more concerned about you, especially after they”—she tilted her head at Madison and Sara Louise—”started screeching. We assumed one of them had broken a nail or something equally earth-shattering.”

Madison smiled sweetly at her. “I do hope you grow out of this stage at sometime in the not-too-distant future. Pre-cociousness is appealing only in toddlers and prodigies.”

“What dead man?” demanded Sara Louise. “In the backyard? Why would there be a dead man in the backyard? That’s ridiculous!” She went to the sliding door and peered out. “There’s nobody there. What are these two talking about?”

“You’ll hear all about it when the officers arrive,” I said. “Why don’t you take this opportunity to clear the dining room table so we won’t look like squatters?”

“I don’t think either of us can be trusted to carry china right now. We’d better have some wine to steady our nerves. Do you know if Dolly keeps any aspirin in the kitchen or guest bathroom?”

“Oh, dear” said Madison, “I need to lie down before I faint. Caron, would you be a sweetie and fetch me a damp washcloth?”

“Only if you promise to use it for a gag, you oleaginous bitch!”

“I may be a bitch, but I can assure you I’m not… whatever you said I was. How can I be? I don’t even know what it means!”

“Oily,” Inez said helpfully.

Sara Louise pointed a finger at her. “Like your complexion?”

I was almost sorry the conversation was not allowed to escalate, but the arrival of the police officers stopped all of them in mid-sentence. They questioned Madison and Sara Louise, who were unable to add anything to what they’d told me earlier, except that the man was of average build and dressed in dark clothes and that Sara Louise had heard a car engine start up somewhere away from the house. One of the officers called the station to request a thorough search of the neighborhood, although he implied it would be fruitless to expect even the most clueless perp to wait around.

The other turned to me. “Anything to add, ma’am?”

Caron and Inez cut me off and began to gabble about the dead man who kept popping up. Madison and Sara Louise contributed sniffs of incredulity and comments concerning the effects of violent movies on hormonally contaminated imaginations.

“Didn’t I see a similar report from yesterday?” the officer asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his derision.

I was considering how to respond when Peter came into the living room. He silenced Caron and Inez with a look, then took the officers aside and had them explain the situation. Madison and Sara Louise were openly assessing him, from his slightly hawkish profile to his Italian shoes, and apparently finding the entire package of interest. Once the officers had finished, Peter sent them out to search the backyard and came over to me.

“Did you see the body this time?” he asked.

“I couldn’t see anything more than the man’s cuffs and shoes because of the umbrella. He was indubitably there, although I can’t attest to his well-being or lack thereof. But there was a five-minute gap when he could have left.”

“Or been carried off,” said Caron. “I know what I saw.”

“Were the outside lights on?” he asked her.

“No, but I saw him and he was dead.”

Inez offered a timid “There was light from inside, though. It glinted off his glasses and bald head.”

Caron nodded. “It was the same man we saw yesterday. Do you want us to take a lie detector test or something?”

“I don’t think you’re lying,” said Peter, “but you do see my problem, don’t you? Dead bodies don’t just appear and disappear like this.”

“We saw him,” she said stubbornly, “and so did Mother. She doesn’t even have hormones anymore.”

Madison positioned herself next to Peter and gazed up at him. “Well, I think it’s some kind of prank. Whenever there are reports of poltergeist, the investigators always trace it back to the children in the household. The pitiful little things are begging for attention. What’s more, children can be very rigid about changes in their immediate environment and routine. They lack the flexibility that comes with maturity.”

I could sense that she was in danger of something far worse than a poltergeist attack. “Madison,” I said, “you and Sara Louise are still looking pale. Why don’t you go upstairs and try to relax? I’m sure the pitiful little things won’t mind if you use the Jacuzzi.”

“Come along, Madison,” said Sara Louise. “A long, hot soak sounds divine. I feel as though I were run over by a truck. If I don’t feel better in the morning, I’ll have to see a doctor about the possibility of broken ribs.”

“Oh, all right. Lieutenant, if you have any more questions about our assault, I’ll be happy to come by the station tomorrow morning and do absolutely everything I can to help. We can do it over lunch, if it’s better for you. There must be one restaurant in this town that doesn’t specialize in barbecue or catfish.”

“If you think of something you haven’t already told us, just call and leave a message at the police station.”

Sara Louise gestured to Madison, who gave Peter a little wave as they started upstairs. I had a feeling Madison would remember at least one minor detail that would necessitate a phone call, if not a visit around noon.

“What about us?” Caron demanded. “What if we want to go to bed and those two are snickering and making rude remarks in the bathroom? Maybe we ought to make a quick run to the grocery store so we can put catfish fillets in their lingerie drawers.”

“And barbecued beans in their designer shoes,” said Inez, always a willing accessory to a misdemeanor.

I cut them off before they added further embellishments to the menu. “Go watch movies in the den. I’ll make sure the doors are locked and the alarm is on before I go upstairs.”

Caron glanced at Peter. “By yourself?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, “by myself. Now scoot before I suggest you clean off the table and wash the wok. Someone’s going to have to do it, and if we wait for Madison and Sara Louise to recover from their ordeal, the lemongrass will require mowing.”

BOOK: The Goodbye Body
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