Second Grave on the Left
Page 40The front door to Cook’s office opened, and a hesitant head popped in. “Are you open?” a man asked. He looked about sixty turned sideways as he was.
“Sure,” I said, inviting him in with a wave. “What can we do for you?”
He straightened and entered, followed by a woman about the same age. He wore a dark blue blazer and reminded me of a sportscaster, his gray hair perfectly combed. And she wore an only-slightly-out-of-date khaki pantsuit that matched her light hair. A cloud of grief, thick and palpable, followed in their wake. They were hurting.
“Are either of you Charley Davidson?” the man asked.
“I’m Charley.”
He gripped my hand like I was humanity’s last hope. If that were the case, humanity was in a lot of trouble. The woman did the same, her fragile hand a shaking mass of nerves. “Ms. Davidson,” the gentleman said, his expensive cologne wafting toward me, “we’re Mimi’s parents.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Please, come on back.” I gestured for Cookie to join us, then led them to my office. Ever efficient, she grabbed a notepad to take notes.
“You must be Cookie,” the man said. He took her hand.
“Yes, sir, I am, Mr. Marshal.” She took the woman’s in turn. “Mrs. Marshal. I’m so sorry about everything.”
Cookie’s smile wavered between appreciation and horror before she gestured for them to sit. I’d have to get the lowdown later.
I pulled up a chair for her, then settled behind my desk. “I don’t guess you know where she is?” I asked, taking a wild-assed shot.
Harold’s eyes met mine, his gaze sad but knowing. I could feel the helplessness roll off him, but he had a sense of hope as well, one that Mimi’s husband, Warren, didn’t. I had a sneaking suspicion he might know more than the average bear. “I’ll pay anything, Ms. Davidson. I’ve heard good things about you.”
That was different. People rarely had good things to say about me, unless “certifiable nutcase” had finally shed its bad rep. “Mr. Marshal—”
“Harold,” he insisted.
“Harold, I read people pretty well—it’s part of what I do—and you seem more than just hopeful that Mimi is all right. You seem almost expectant, as if you know something no one else does.”
The couple glanced at each other. I could see the doubt in their eyes. They were wondering if they could trust me.
“Let me see if I can help,” I offered.
“Okay. Mimi started acting strange a few weeks ago, but she wouldn’t tell you what was bothering her.”
“That’s right,” Wanda said, clutching her handbag in her lap. “I tried to get her to open up when she came for her visit—she brings the kids for an overnight stay on the first of every month—but … she just…” Her voice cracked, and she paused to dab at her eyes with a tissue before looking back at me. Her husband covered her hands with one of his.
“But she told you something. Maybe it seemed strange at the time, but when she disappeared, you put it together.”
Wanda gasped. “Yes, she did, and I didn’t understand…” She’d trailed off again.
“Can you tell me what she said?”
She lowered her lashes, reluctant. I could feel a desire to trust me radiate out of her, but whatever Mimi had said had her doubting everything. Everyone.
“Wanda,” Cookie said, leaning forward, her expression filled with concern, “if there is any one person on this planet I would trust with my life, it is the woman sitting across from you right now. She will do everything humanly possible—and even a little inhumanly—to get your daughter back safely.”
That was about the sweetest thing Cookie had ever said about me. We’d have to talk later about the inhumanly comment, but she meant well. She totally needed a raise.
Wanda’s breath hitched and she swallowed hard before speaking. “She told me she’d made an awful mistake a long time ago and that she did something horrible. I argued with her, told her it didn’t matter, but she insisted that all mistakes had to be paid for. An eye for an eye.” She looked up at me, her expression one of such desperation, it broke my heart. “I don’t want her to get into trouble. Whatever she did, or thinks she did, it was a mistake.”
“That’s why we’re hoping she disappeared of her own accord,” Harold added. “That she planned this and that she’s safe.”
“But she would never leave Warren and the kids without an extremely good reason, Ms. Davidson. If she did so, it’s because she felt she had no other choice.”
Harold nodded his head in unison with his wife’s. I was glad they didn’t suspect Warren. They seemed to trust him implicitly. But I felt they should know what was happening. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Warren is being questioned.”
Wanda pursed her lips sadly as Harold spoke. “We know, but I promise you, he had nothing to do with this. If anything, Mimi was trying to keep him out of it.”
“Cookie and I think this might stem back to something that happened in high school.”
“High school?” Harold asked, surprised.
“Did she have any enemies?”