Irene's white cotton blouse and sensible white skirt, with a bright green oversized scarf as a waist wrap, were the perfect reproof – because all were lightweight and became translucent as the sun settled lower. In essence, she was using a star – the Sun – as an accessory to highlight her perfect body. Every time she turned sideways to look out at a flight of geese or an incoming boat or a distant jetliner soaring high up over the thin cirrus, I could see her wonderful breasts in perfect, silhouetted profile through that blouse. It took great selfcontrol not to leap at her over the table.
And those were the times when Penny would give me the business. Sitting there in her demure-but-neat red-and-white striped blouse and her fashionably loose blue shorts, Penny would see my eyes fix on Irene's loveliness (and, maybe, my tongue hanging out). And as soon as she knew I'd seen her watching me, she do something cute – like lick the straw in her Coca-Cola, or slide her hand suggestively up and down on her glass, all the time giving me an oh-so-coy look up from under her eyelashes.
Yeah, I could understand the guys suddenly remembering me and coming over for introductions. Even the ones whose names I couldn't remember (if I'd ever known them).
And, too, matters were not helped by the little footsie touches from Bonnie and Irene and sometimes both. I could only imagine what they were doing with each other – but I didn't dare dwell on that or I'd never be able to stand and leave the table.
By the time the sun had been set for an hour or so and our deserts (not nearly as good as the rest of the meal) were finished, Irene and Bonnie were just a wee bit tipsy. It never occurred to any of the staff to ask for Bonnie's age (two years under the minimum in New York State). She and Irene had been happily indulging themselves in white wine and were noticeably tipsy, though not sloppy. Penny and I were, of course, stone-cold sober. As the driver, I'd allowed myself only the one glass of (mediocre) chablis with dinner, followed by Saratoga water and then, coffee.
Penny was starting to get restless; so was I. Bonnie and Irene were trying to outdo each other with double-entendres. I put up with it and waited for my credit card and receipts to return, resigned to listening to the increasing silliness – until Penny suddenly signed in with: "You two should knock it off. We have a very big Dutch boy here who might want to plug a couple of leaks."
When that registered on the second level, they quieted and I stared. I guess none of us had ever guessed that Penny even suspected they were lovers.
I remembered that shadow in the tree and wondered…
It took about a half hour to get back to the house. We pulled into the driveway about ten. I offered my sturdy, manly arm to our tipsy twosome, but they insisted they would be along "presently," in Bonnie's words.
"Come on, uncle Dan. Don't you know when your presence is not desired?" Penny grabbed my hand and tugged me through the darkness toward the house. I looked back over my shoulder and saw just the silhouette of Bonnie and Irene in a heated clinch.
Broing!
But that changed as soon as Penny and I entered the house. Mark and Kate were sitting the living room. I could smell the booze from Mark halfway across the room; I didn't need to see the stuporous look on his face.
Kate looked worried. She stood and came to me.
"Dolores isn't back. She hasn't called."
Chapter Eleven
I put my hands on her shoulders. "She's wild but not stupid. We'll find her."
"But – "
I turned to Penny, who was measuring water into the coffee-maker. "We need you."
Her face changed, suddenly all serious and determined. She was still a kid, but now she was a scary-smart kid with a purpose.
"What do you need?"
"The guys on the beach. Remember anything about them?"
Her face got distant.
"Did you see – " Kate began. I silenced her with a scowl. Penny's brain and eyes were a resource, not to be polluted with distractions.
"Five guys, one girl. About…eighteen or nineteen years old. One of them went up to the road to get some beer."
"A car?"
She nodded. "Don't know what kind, but it was a late-model car, one of those compact ones, like an Accura or something."
"So they weren't just out for the day." I nodded. "Too many people for a small car on a day trip."
Penny snapped her fingers and got excited. "One of them said something about going back to the house for some more food and beer."
"How were their tans? Real deep and even and leathery?"
She shook her head. "Two of them had to put their on shirts because they were getting sunburned." She looked at me hopefully. "Do you know who they are?"
I shook my head. "But now I know they're a bunch of college kids who rented a place here for a few days or a couple of weeks." I went to the phone and called Hector, the gardener.
"I was just getting ready for bed. Is everything okay?"
"Pretty much."
"Did Miguel do a good job? He was a little disappointed – "
"I knew he would do a good job, even before I returned. His disappointment is why I am calling." I quickly told him about Dolores's absence and relayed my deduction about the young men.
"I will make some calls and call you back immediately, okay?"
"Thank you, Mister Hector."
"It is a privilege, my neighbor."
The coffee was ready and we brought a mug to Mark. I poured a slug of brandy into it. I knew – from experience – that coffee does nothing to sober a person, but I hoped the association would help clear Mark's head. I needed him at least partially functional by the time we returned.
Kate absented herself for a few minutes. She was just coming back down the stairs when the phone rang. Hector.
"My cousin, Santiago – on the road crew?"
"Yes."
"He said there is a group of eight or nine young men who have rented the Pearson house on Stockbridge Road. Do you know this place?"
Did I ever! Pearson had been totally irresponsible about renting his house for the summer. Two years before, he'd rented it for the season to a bunch of guys in very large brand-new cars equipped with 50kilowatt speakers and cellular phones and beepers. The guys had been equipped with 24-hour sunglasses, Armani clothes and any controlled substance you could ask for. And that had been only the worst in a string of bad tenants. The firestorm that followed the DEA raid – Gee, I can't imagine who tipped them off – had scared the sonuvabitch so badly he hadn't rented at all last year.
This sounded like just a bunch of college kids partying, which was not bad in itself. The fact that they had a – probably – willing 15year-old nymphet to service them wasn't all that shocking either.
"I know the place. I am in your debt."
"My brothers and cousins and I would be pleased to accompany you, if you wish to visit the party."
"Thank you, most sincerely. I am sure it will be a friendly welcome and friendly farewell."
"Nonetheless, I think perhaps we will be watching the Tonight Show, so if you change your mind, you can rescue us from Jay Lenno."
"Thank you."
"Good night."
I looked at Kate. She was still in her jeans, but had a dark pullover top against the cooling summer night.
Penny stepped up to me, handing me the big four-cell utility flashlight. "I don't suppose you're going to let me come along," she said.
"You don't-suppose right. But I wouldn't know where to look without you, Muffin. Watch out for your Dad."