Blame the Car Ride Read online

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Fred cleared his throat. “Just wanted you to know Edgy’s funeral will be Tuesday at the cemetery on the hill. She always said not to make a fuss over putting her in the ground. A graveside service is the simplest way to do it. Also, keeping it private to a few friends and what relatives of mine show up. Edgy’s family is all in England, and I won’t try to find a contact number for them. Hate all of them for what they did to my girl.” Bitterness laced the last of his words with the same tone he had used when Edgy forced him tell me about her past. I had strained to hear his weary words then, and I struggled to hear him now. I couldn’t remember ever seeing a man so defeated.

  “Thank you for including me,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Marley and Patrick are welcome, too.”

  “Please come inside and I’ll make you some breakfast.”

  He rocked on his feet. “Can’t. See you Tuesday at the cemetery around ten in the morning.” He rambled down the steps, crossed the street, and headed home like he should never have left it, like he needed to be inside the walls he had shared with Edgy.

  I studied their house, puzzling over his strange behavior. From the look of his furled brow and the darkness in his eyes, plus his seesaw emotions—mad one minute and friendly the next—Fred was suffering deep in his soul, more than what I’d normally expect. But what was normal? I reached for the doorknob to go back inside and quickly stepped back as it swept open. Out danced Marley, keeping rhythm to music playing from the cell phone clutched in her hand. She did a few herky-jerky steps around me.

  “Apparently, you had a good time with your friends?”

  “I did. We ended up at a private beach on Flathead Lake for hotdogs and tequila. Went down smooth.” She didn’t appear at all hungover—first clue she was stretching the truth. “You know,” she added, “I’d forgotten the feel of skinny-dipping. Silky, smoother than the tequila, and cold touching everywhere.”

  “Okay, so why are you telling stories again?”

  She stuck her bottom lip out at me. “Never could fool you. I’m just trying to make you laugh a little, lighten up.”

  “Fred was just here, and the funeral is on Tuesday. He said Edgy doesn’t have any relatives in the States. It’ll be just us and any of his side that shows up. He sounded doubtful.”

  Marley’s lips turned downward. “Poor Fred.”

  A startling thought hit me. I gasped.

  “What?” Marley widened her eyes.

  “Edgy does have a relative here in the States. Her daughter, Ruth. It’s four days until the funeral. Plenty of time to contact her.”

  Marley straightened like a dog listening. “How do we contact her?

  “Through Dean Hyatt. I don’t have a phone number, but he lives on a ranch in Colorado along the South Platte River.”

  “That’s not a lot to go on.”

  “He told me his ranch is near a town without much more than a post office. You could track a phone number in the white pages of the area.”

  “Remember the name of the town?”

  “Nope, but I think I’d recognize it if we check out the names along the river.”

  Marley hurried inside to Mel’s office. I watched over her shoulder as she booted up the computer. Of course, everything had to be updated. She frowned at me. “When was the last time you used this?”

  “The last time I felt the need to check email.” I caught her impatience. I pitched the newspaper on the desk and pulled Mel’s road atlas from a shelf. I quickly turned to Colorado and spread it open on a chess table. The South Platte ran across the northeast part of the state. I ran my finger along it. Not Masters, or Orchard, or Goodrich. What was it? My body tensed as I searched. Had he lied to me about his ranch?

  “Isn’t that done loading yet?” I asked.

  Marley exhaled a theatrical groan. “It’s working on update number fifteen. Almost done. Did you find the town?” She grabbed the newspaper and slid the rubber band off.

  I traced along the river on the map, stopped, and repeated a name several times under my breath. “Just found it.” I pointed at the map. “He said Weldona.”

  Marley didn’t answer. She sat like she was paralyzed. “What?” I asked, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

  She spread the paper flat. A large headline splashed across the front page. Murder. Marley read out loud. “Flathead County Sheriff Oren Metcalf released the results Thursday night from the Missoula crime lab on the woman found dead behind Millie’s near the KM Ranch Road northwest of Kalispell. Foul play is suspected in the death of Edwina Brewster.”

  I sucked in air, couldn’t say a damned word. My mind seemed frozen, focusing on Edgy’s name plastered on the newspaper. The whole town now knew she’d been murdered. How awful. The private, introverted part of her had been laid open for the whole town to speculate about who had murdered her and why. She hadn’t even been laid to rest yet. Poor Fred would have to endure stares and whispers every time he set foot out of his house.

  Marley took over. “We can’t do anything about it except go on with the funeral and let happen what happens. Let’s find her daughter. What was the name again?”

  I swallowed. “Weldona.”

  She typed in the town’s name in the white pages website. She then entered Dean Hyatt. In a matter of a few seconds, a phone number appeared.

  My shoulders relaxed, and I rubbed a slight ache in my neck. He hadn’t lied.

  “Make the call, Mom.”

  I patted my pocket. “Where’s my phone?” I sounded angry, and I was. The article on the front page just couldn’t have been worse timing. I wanted Edgy laid to rest before the gossip started.

  Marley pointed to the spot on the tabletop beside the map where I had laid the cell. “It’s right there,” she said, impatience underlying her words.

  I grabbed it and took a deep breath. “Here goes.” My fingers trembled as I tapped the phone number into my cell and listened for the ring. On the third one, a female voice answered.

  “Circle Hy Ranch.”

  “Hello, I’m Corinne Cooper from Montana and would like to talk with Dean Hyatt. I hope I have the right number.” I controlled my voice enough to sound natural.

  “He’s out with the stock. May I take a message?”

  No way could I just blurt out what my call was really about. “Am I talking with his niece Ruth?”

  I heard a breath in the phone. “Are you the one that is friends with my birth mother? I’d like to meet you when I come to visit my mother.”

  She said the words just like that, and then it dawned on me she used is instead of was. Ruth didn’t know Edgy was dead. Marley acted like she wanted to grab the phone from me. I turned my back to her.

  “Yes, I am. I really need to talk to your uncle.”

  “Like I told you, he’s out.”

  “It’s extremely important I talk with him. Will you give him a message to call me right away?” I held my breath.

  “I’ll contact him on the two-way. I’ll need your phone info.”

  I recited the number and hung up.

  Marley stared at me as if I was insane. “You didn’t tell her.”

  “Ruth doesn’t know her mother’s dead.”

  Marley laid her forehead in the palm of her hand and muttered a few choice words.

  Within ten minutes, my cell phone rang. I tapped the answer icon and heard his voice. “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “I don’t know how to say it.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Edgy was killed the night we went to Millie’s. That’s why I’m calling.” I could hear him breathing deeply.

  “What happened?” He was trying not to show his anger, but it came through.

  “I don’t know how it happened, but she fell down a steep hill and died from it.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “I’m so sorry for her daughter. Edgy’s funeral will be Tuesday, and I thought Ruth might wan
t to come for it. I’d love to meet her and tell her about her mom.” I stopped my next words before I uttered them. Instead of extending an invitation to come stay with us for a few days, I added, “There is a nice hotel nearby. I could make reservations. We could get to know each other and attend the funeral together. Edgy would like that.”

  The silence on the other end wrenched my heart. Then he said, “I’ll talk to her and we’ll get back to you.” The call disconnected, much too abruptly for my satisfaction. There were many things I wanted to say to Edgy’s daughter. I hoped I’d have the opportunity to let her know I understood that to find and lose her natural mother before they had a chance to meet was beyond horrible. I couldn’t imagine how she must feel.

  Marley had remained in Mel’s office chair, hands resting on the arms, knees crossed and head tilted to one side. A picture of confidence, she waited for me to relay what Dean had said.

  “He’s going to tell her and get back to us.”

  She rose and walked out of the room. She had to be biting back the words she wanted to yell about unfairness.

  It seemed longer, but only one hour later my phone rang. Dean said without preamble, “Ruth is heartsick but insists she wants to come. We’ll fly in on Monday. Make the reservations at the hotel.” His voice sounded strained.

  “I will.”

  He hung up before I had a chance to think of what else to say, except to ask why he hadn’t shown up at Millie’s as planned. I had to ask him that face to face.

  “I thought I heard your phone,” Marley said, coming back into the office.

  “Ruth wants to come for the service. I’m making reservations at the hotel for them.”

  “I thought you’d invite her to stay here. Wouldn’t hurt anything.”

  How could Marley not get it? “Dean’s coming with her, and I don’t want him in my house. He’s been nothing but a pain since we met at the tavern.”

  As if she knew my inner thoughts, she said, “I think you want him here.”

  Well, I had news for my daughter. Right at this moment, I was annoyed with her. “I’d like one thing from him, and that’s to know why he didn’t show up at Millie’s. Maybe he could’ve helped Edgy.”

  “What if he’s the one who pushed her?”

  Marley had put my thoughts into words, and I didn’t like that either. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “In those old sweats?”

  “Yep.” I left the room, moving briskly to the front door, knowing I had aggravated Marley by leaving her with so many questions but not caring. Right now, I was carrying my own load of frustration.

  The thing is, I had no answers. The one thing I had done right in the whole sorry mess was to call Ruth. At least I hadn’t run from it. I had more or less run from the roadhouse because of not belonging there and Edgy needing to go to the emergency room for stitches. I had run from the encounter with Lester at the church and left it to Edgy to fuss about the backyard neighbor. The worst was my waiting thirty minutes before searching for her at Millie’s. I couldn’t seem to quit rehashing all the events, feeling guilty for the wasted time before searching for her—not protecting her, not being there again and again.

  I couldn’t run from the remorse.

  I walked east along Tenth Street, leaving my block behind for the next and the next and the next. Distance and time swept by as I hurried along under the leafy trees in front of classic homes built in the early 1900s. Their permanence and well-kept or unkempt yards reminded me of how tidy and messy my life had been since Mel had passed. I had endured all so far. My stress level eased a bit and I slowed my pace, turning north on Sixth Avenue and heading to the city park and its paved path around a lagoon.

  I hustled down switchbacks toward the water. Black swans were floating on the murky surface. Geese honked, and ducks squabbled around lily pads. A breeze picked up as I strode around the first gradual curve. Long fronds on the willow trees shivered in the air currents, and sailing clouds covered the sun.

  The path led me into a wooded area at the base of a steep hill. The narrow blacktop trail was wet in the cool shade, and I slowed to avoid stepping in puddles or soggy duck droppings. Litter left by transients was scattered in a brush-filled notch in the hillside. Even though none of the poor souls lingered in the trees this time of day, I ignored the slipperiness of the path and strode quickly into a more open area.

  Up ahead, a man came around the bend. A woman appeared behind him. They drew closer. It was sneaky Lester, of all people, and his nice wife.

  She stopped as the gap between us closed. “Corinne, I was sorry to hear about Edgy Brewster. I know the two of you were close.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled. I stopped but did not want to talk to either of them.

  Lester’s menacing stare warned me.

  That did it—the last straw. “Lester, I haven’t seen you since we ran into you and your lady friend at the big church on top of Snob Hill.” My emotions suddenly had a bit of peace. I nodded to the cheating bastard and jogged around him. I called back to his wife. “Sorry, I’m in a hurry.” That wasn’t a lie. Loud quarreling erupted behind me for a moment before I ran out of earshot.

  Up ahead was a bench under a tree. I plopped down as soon as I reached it to calm my nervous quivering. Dumb to take my anger out on Lester. Could he have pushed Edgy down the hill? I shook my head. What was I thinking? He hadn’t even been at Millie’s. Not that I knew of, anyway.

  Then a frightening thought struck: I had no way to know who had been lurking in the woods surrounding Millie’s the night Edgy was killed.

  I headed toward home, feeling guilty for the hurt I had inflicted on Lester’s poor wife. What good had it done to let her know about the woman?

  Marley wouldn’t be happy about the stupid stunt I had just pulled.

  Chapter 13

  I wanted to leave for the airport with plenty of time to allow for traffic. But just before walking through the door, Marley pulled a loose thread on the front of her blouse and a button fell off. “Can you believe it was hanging by one thread?” She chuckled. “I don’t care if they have to wait. I’m not meeting Edgy’s daughter with my boobs hanging out.”

  “The afternoon flight doesn’t arrive until two thirty. We have plenty of time.”

  “Just so you know, I’m not nervous. I just can’t stand loose strings.” Marley ran back upstairs. Good thing she was in shape for a forty-two-year-old and that the stairs were sturdy, given the way she dashed up and down them.

  My daughter might not admit to apprehension at meeting Ruth and Dean, but I owned up to it. In fact, mild terror described my feelings. What would she be like? She had been raised completely separate from her natural parents. Would Edgy’s genes come through somehow? Hopefully, some of Edgy’s humor and daring had been inherited. And what would Ruth think of us?

  In a matter of moments, Marley scuttled down from upstairs. “I’m driving,” she said. “We’ll fit better in the Jeep.”

  “And you can’t stand my pokey sixty-five miles per hour,” I said to her back as she hurried out the front door. Oh, to be in the rush of my forties again.

  I held back any criticism about her passing cars on two-lane Whitefish Stage Road with barely enough room to avoid oncoming traffic. She zipped back into her lane just in time and adjusted her speed down a notch. I also said nothing about how shortcuts are not always faster than a nice, wide, four-lane highway. Instead of the usual twenty-five-minute drive to the airport, we arrived at the pay gate to the parking lot in twenty. Sometimes a mother just knows when to keep silent and not mention dying together.

  Marley snagged the ticket and laid it on the front dash. The gate arm rose, allowing her to pass into the rows of cars. She quickly found a space in the last row. Didn’t even bother to check closer.

  “I wonder if Ruth will be at all like Edgy,” she said with a hopeful tone as we hurried through the crowded parking lot to the entrance.

  “We’ll know soon enough.�
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  We entered the terminal through the baggage claim entrance and walked the wide hallway to join the crowd in the area where passengers were welcomed by family or friends.

  Marley led the way to a wall with large windows across the enclosed area where travelers waited to board flights after going through security. From there, a set of wide steps led up to the arrival gates. A garbled call for a flight came over the intercom, and people rose, grabbed their carryon bags, and gathered at the gate.

  One man seemed familiar as he picked up his belongings. I peered at him and then nudged Marley. “See that guy with the brown shoulder bag?”

  “Who is he?”

  “That’s Sid Nelson. The guy who threw the pool ball at Edgy. The cops want to talk with him, and he’s apparently leaving town.”

  “Maybe they’ve already questioned him.” She leaned closer to the glass, then turned to me. “But maybe not. What flight was just called?”

  I squinted, then said, “I can’t read it from this angle.”

  Marley hurried to a spot where she could see the message screen. She dug in her purse for pen and paper, scribbled down the information, and stuck the paper in her pocket.

  When her shoulder touched mine, she whispered, “Got it. Are you positive it’s the same guy?”

  “It was him. What are the odds we’d see him leaving?”

  “I’m calling Bruce.” She blinked. “Helluva thing to tell him we watched a possible murderer escape.”

  I frowned deeply at her. “Bruce?”

  Marley shrugged and stepped away to place her call.

  A few moments later, we stood shoulder to shoulder watching the arrival door until passengers from Dean and Ruth’s plane finally filtered out through the revolving door. A tall man with a woman right behind him exited. A group of teens dressed for hiking filled the area with excited chatter before dispersing. Traveler after traveler was and whisked away.

  A murmur stirred through the waiting crowd as every female in the crowd turned to watch a handsome man amble into the waiting throng.

  A petite woman walked by Dean’s side. Ruth looked nothing like tall, rangy Edgy. Black flyaway hair swirled around her shoulders without a kink or curl anywhere. I did notice streaks of gray. Good, she wasn’t covering up her age, just like Marley. I’d guess them to be only a year or two apart.