Chapter 41

 

 

Mary remembered an episode of Magnum PI, where someone said the worst part of an investigation is surveillance. After two days of staring at the house, which might or might not belong to Ron, where he might or might not actually be present, she was about ready to chew her nails.

The only validating evidence they had so far was yesterday. Someone—male, possibly Ron—had backed out of the garage at this address and had taken off. In his rapidly moving car, his unkempt hair and dark knitted watch cap were the only clues. Mary swore he’d deliberately tried to evade her, but when she described the sequence of moves to Sandy, they’d both had to admit it could have been anyone leaving for an ordinary day out. Sandy had tried to make Mary feel better about losing him; she wasn’t certain she could have done any better.

Right now, either of them would give anything just to spot the man and positively identify him as their suspect. Sandy still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of the address, with these little subdivisions full of cookie-cutter houses. The one where she’d stopped and actually spoken to Ron had a brightly blooming bougainvillea on the right-hand side of the garage door, as did this one, their most substantial clue so far.

Not for the first time, Mary wished one of the other Ladies had been with her for the chase.

She opened her Thermos and poured herself another cup of tea, wondering how long at this rate before she would become desperate for a bathroom. She’d taken her first sip when her phone rang.

“Hey, Amber. How would you like to spend a glorious afternoon out in Mesa, waiting for a man to come home?”

“Um, on a scale of one to ten … that would be a zero.” Amber laughed. “However, I do have some news for you, something I had to be at home to accomplish.”

“Okay, you’re given a pass for not sitting out here in your car. Although I’m not saying I still won’t call on you at some point.”

“Fair enough. So, I’ve been prowling around in the property tax records. For that address you gave, where you’re sitting right now, I assume, I’ve got the owner’s name.”

“Tell me it’s Ron-somebody?”

“Sorry, no.”

Mary felt her spirits sag.

“It’s a William P. Duckly.”

“Do we know who that is?”

“Not from the property records, but I did some scrounging around on social media. There’s a William Duckly on Facebook who’s sixty-seven, gray haired, thick glasses. From his recent posts, it looks like he and the wife had a houseful of kids and grandkids visiting for Christmas.”

Mary looked up the street at the forlorn house.

“Well, that’s definitely not Ron. And it doesn’t seem to mesh with the ‘friend’ story he gave Sandy either. He said he stays with this friend. We’ve only spotted one car and one person here.”

“William’s hobbies are gardening, building wooden toys, and travel. Looks like he and the wife do a fair number of RV road trips.” Amber was apparently scanning through the man’s posted pictures.

Builds wooden toys … Mary remembered Sandy’s description of the day she’d spoken to Ron. He’d parked the car directly in the center of the garage, and there was no mention of any woodworking tools inside.

“Could you search property records to see if Ron owns a property near here?” Maybe they had the wrong house after all.

“Tried that. Remember, we don’t have his last name. It wouldn’t be a far stretch to guess that someone, somewhere in that subdivision is named Ron or Ronald, but I’d have no way to narrow it down without more info.”

“Sorry—I suppose I knew that.” Mary heard the discouragement in her own voice. “It’s all this sitting around. Guess I’m burning out.”

Sandy had already run out of vacation days, which is how Mary ended up taking most of the surveillance shifts. How many of her nights and weekends was she willing to give up just to find a few missing trinkets?

“If I think of something else, you can bet I’ll search it.”

“I know. You’re the best, Amber.” She’d no sooner clicked off the call when her phone rang again.

“Hey, Mary, it’s Trini. I don’t know if this is important or not, but it looks like that guru couple next door has pulled out.”

“Left?”

“This time with the bus and a trailer that holds all their stage gear. I saw him hitching up the trailer yesterday, and this morning they drove away.”

“What about their little car?”

“It’s still here. Maybe they’re coming back and I’m reporting a great big nothing.”

“No, I’m glad you called. Not sure what it means, but I’ll get back to you,” Mary said.

Her mind whirled. This couldn’t be good. Just when they’d discovered the Fordyces were definitely scamming people with their claims of building houses for the poor, the couple took off. And now it looked as if Ron was also suspicious. She needed to get with the rest of the team, and quickly!