Murder of a Creped Suzette

“A week or so later that letter also came back marked ‘Moved, no forwarding address.’ And I hadn’t been able to unearth even a new phone number for her.”

Silently, Skye was screaming, Get to the part I don’t already know, but aloud she said in an encouraging tone, “Yes?”

“So, yesterday—” Wally broke off at the sound of an insistent buzzing from the hall.

Whoever was at the front door was jabbing the bell repeatedly, causing Toby, who had been lying at Skye’s side, to leap to his feet and run out of the sunroom, barking wildly. Bingo, who had been asleep on the settee cushion next to Wally, opened one eye and turned over.

Geez! Skye ignored the ringing. “Go ahead,” she ordered. “Tell me what happened yesterday.”

“It might be one of my officers about the case.” Wally rose from his seat and strode toward the foyer. “You know my cell doesn’t always work in this house.”

Skye followed, easing past him to brush aside the curtain covering the front window. She peered out, sighed in frustration, then swung the door open.

Trixie burst into the entrance hall. “Owen’s disappeared again,” she cried. “I can’t find him anywhere. Something terrible has happened—I just know it! ” She flung herself at Skye, sobbing hysterically.

It took half an hour and most of the rest of the bottle of wine, but Skye and Wally finally managed to calm Trixie down enough for rational conversation. They had seated her on the settee in the sunroom next to Skye, while Wally took the matching wicker armchair.

Skye put her arm around her friend and asked gently, “Are you ready to tell us what happened?”

Taking one last gulp of merlot, Trixie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and said to Wally, “After you called at six thirty wanting to speak to Owen, I got worried about what you wanted with him.” She glared at Wally. “You wouldn’t tell me why you needed to talk to him.”

“Sorry.” He crossed his arms. “As I said before, it’s confidential.”

“Right.” Trixie hiccupped. “Anyway, about a half hour ago, I decided to go get Owen, so he could call back and find out what was going on. I looked in the barn and the tractor shed, and even though it was too dark to be doing anything in the fields, I even checked there. Finally, I noticed that his truck wasn’t in the garage.”

Skye and Wally exchanged uneasy glances. Had Owen somehow gotten wind of the autopsy results and realized he might be a suspect in Suzette Neal’s murder?

“And that’s unusual?” Skye asked, not sure what was normal for the couple.

“Yes.” Trixie nodded emphatically. “Generally, we eat at five; then Owen takes care of the animals and works around the barn or shed for another two or three hours. Although lately he’s been staying out there until bedtime.”

“Which means, typically, if I hadn’t called, you wouldn’t have been concerned if he didn’t come inside until ten or so?” Wally asked.

“Right,” Trixie agreed, a troubled expression stealing over her face.

“You’re sure he hasn’t phoned you?” Skye asked. “Is your cell on?”

“Yes. I checked just before I left home,” Trixie affirmed. “And there are no messages from him.”

“Could you have forgotten a meeting he said he was attending?” Wally inquired.

“There’s nothing on the calendar.” Trixie shook her head. “And the only regular meeting he attends is the Farm Bureau on the second Wednesday of the month.”

They were silent as Skye searched for a rational explanation for Owen’s disappearance. Finally, she noticed that Trixie had her eyes closed and her lips were moving.

She poked Trixie with her finger. “Are you awake?”

“Yes. I’m praying for the wisdom to understand my husband,” Trixie enlightened Skye, then added, “Also for love to forgive him and patience to deal with his inconsiderate actions.”

“You’re not praying for strength?” Skye asked, thinking Trixie might need it.

“No,” Trixie said tartly. “If the Lord gave me strength, I might end up beating the crap out of my husband.”

Oops! Skye hurriedly thought of an explanation for Owen’s absence. “Maybe he went to get a tractor part.” She glanced at her watch. It was eight twenty-nine. “Farm and Fleet doesn’t close for another half hour.”

“Well.” Trixie’s shoulders relaxed. “I suppose he might have gone over to Kankakee. But he should have told me. Heck, maybe I would have wanted to take a ride with him.” She scowled. “This does it. He’s getting a cell phone whether he wants one or not. And he darn well better use it or there’ll be hell to pay.”

As Skye walked Trixie out to her car, Trixie hugged her and said, “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Skye hugged Trixie back. “We’re sort of like Spanx; we never let you droop and are all about support.”

Once Trixie left, Skye started to clear the mess from dinner. While she filled the sink with hot water, she asked Wally, “Where do you think Owen really is?”