“You don’t sound right,” Mike said. “You’ve got the security system turned on, right? All the doors locked?”
“Yes.” The truth.
“Em, I want you to understand that this is serious. Caroline’s body was discovered buried at the far end of her property, around eleven this morning. The FBI is calling in a forensic specialist from Dallas. My guys had been back over that area yesterday and swear they saw nothing. A neighbor found her when her Doberman broke away on their morning walk and set off across Caroline’s yard. She found the dog whining under a tree.” He hesitated. “So the guy might still be nearby.”
The baby kicked, hard. “Don’t worry,” I forced out. “I’ll keep the doors locked.”
I imagined my Facebook profile picture flashed across a TV screen. The one in the borderline tank top. Stupid choice, but a happy day.
He was here, somewhere in the angled shadows of this garage. My stalker. Caroline’s. It didn’t matter. I’d be another cliché. A pretty girl gone missing in a dark airport garage. I only say pretty because all missing girls are pretty, right? I started walking shakily toward a group of travelers who appeared as if summoned by my prayers, dragging bags and a few errant children.
I can handle this.
Safety in numbers. Now, there was a cliché.
Mike wouldn’t stop talking.
“Emily, whoever did this… Caroline was pretty messed up. It was personal. The killer stuck a cross in the ground. Two sticks. The neighbor figured it was a bad job of burying a pet. She called animal control first. By the time they arrived, her dog had done a little digging.”
Elegant, bewitching Caroline, dug up by a dog.
“Let me check the security system again to be sure,” I said. “I’ll call you back.”
Such a good little liar.
I walked out into the hail. It felt like God was shooting bullets from the sky.
26
Leticia Abigail Lee Dunn whipped her monster black Escalade into Terminal B’s drop-off zone for the handicapped and slammed on the brakes.
It is a sign of how much God enjoys a good joke that Letty was the person I picked to come to the rescue. I had my reasons, of course, and number one was that I needed to get home before Mike found out I wasn’t.
I tried other alternatives. Misty didn’t pick up. Twelve out of twelve tow truck places said it would be ten to twenty-four hours before anyone could show up. The airport cabbies were reluctant to haul me all the way to Clairmont when they could make good dough with short hops in the rain. The rental car places in the terminal were booked solid unless I wanted to rent a red Ferrari for $900 a day.
Which reluctantly led me to Letty Dunn, now popping out of her vehicle in a lime velour tracksuit faster than the law of physics would say is possible. The rain pelted her frizzy head until she darted under the awning and wrapped me tight in pillowy arms like I was a child who had come back to Jesus. When she finally pulled away, her eyes were bloodshot. She held a wad of wet tissues in her hand.
“I totally, totally accept your apology for the other night. I always told the pageant girls that it’s the crises that pull us together.” She honked into her Kleenex. “It’s terrible, about Caroline, isn’t it? I can’t believe she’s gone. She was my friend.” Her shoulders heaved, while passengers rerouted themselves around her on the wet sidewalk like she was just another part of the airport obstacle course.
Surely this wasn’t pretend. Letty appeared to be demonstrating genuine grief. “Letty, it’s OK.” I awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. “You knew her for a long time. It has to be an enormous shock. We should go, though. I think you’re about to get ticketed.” A security cop was determinedly wending his way toward the Escalade.
“I can’t drive this thing of Harry’s,” she wailed. “It nearly killed me. My car’s in the shop.”
“No problem.” I pried the keys out of her hand, which was slick with a substance that I hoped wasn’t born in her nose, and pushed her toward the passenger door.
She sniffed loudly. “It was a lot to ask me to come get you while I’m mourning the tragic murder of my best friend.”
“Yes, it certainly was. I owe you a big one.”
Letty seemed to be turning this idea over in her mind as I switched on the ignition. The car’s friendly glowing readout confirmed that it was 3:33 p.m. and 97 degrees. Letty had agreed to come, but only if I’d wait three hours for her to get her hair highlighted. I pulled out, pretending not to see the security guard stepping off the curb and shouting at us to roll down our window. That was before Letty agreeably rolled down the window and shot him the finger. I stepped on the gas and took the first curve a little fast.
“Didn’t you notice I’ve lost weight?”
I barely nodded. I was back in the airport circle of hell, while the windshield wipers slashed violently at the rain. North or south exit?
Letty grabbed the wheel and wrenched us into the right lane. “North, honey, north.” I gasped, whipping the wheel back a little before we hopped a curb. Letty seemed not to notice.
“I’m trying this diet where you can eat all the bananas, hot dogs, and boiled eggs you want, but that’s it. Nothing else but water. I’ve lost seven pounds in four days. I’m getting a little sick of it. I gag if I eat more than six eggs and three or four hot dogs at a time. But throwing up wouldn’t be a bad deal, either. Maybe that’s the secret part of the diet.”
“Great.” I tried not to imagine those items working either way through her intestinal system. “Please don’t touch the wheel, OK?”
“You haven’t asked about Caroline,” she said accusatorily.
I sucked in a breath and pictured myself soaking in a hot bath in exactly one hour, protected by a house full of laser beams.
“It’s terrible,” I agreed. “I can barely think about it, much less talk about it.”
“The club’s gettin’ itchy. Some people are saying it was the midget man at the front gate, but I bet it was that tramp of a maid. She left town. After all Caroline has done for her. She’s right at the top of the suspect pool if you ask me. Or Jenny. Caroline’s had the goods on her since sixth grade. Jenny is not a role model for the Republican Party. But Jenny’d have to rent some muscle to get Caroline out of that window. Maybe the five volunteer firemen in town she’s screwed.”
“Maria’s gone?” I was getting better at pinpointing which of Letty’s rambling sentences to pay attention to.
“Yep, I heard from one of my friends who borrows her on Wednesdays that she and her family cleaned out their little Boon Hill shanty and took off. Suspicious, huh? Caroline’s house is neat as a pin, but Lord only knows what Maria took with her. I tried to get in to do an inventory but a cop your husband has parked at the door wouldn’t let me past the crime tape.” So how does she know of its tidy condition? I mentally high-fived Maria’s escape. One less needy, angry person with hidden motives for me to deal with.
“Toll-tag lane!” Letty’s voice sang out as her hand slung the wheel again, swerving us into the far right lane.
The driver behind us laid on his horn. My heart thumped, out of control. Not good for Baby, not good for Baby.
“See, Harry’s got this electronic doo-dah on his visor. We don’t have to pay. Look.”