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“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” I told Derek, ushering him into the house.
He waved at my mother and Charlie sitting side by side on the couch. His fluttering hand paused when it reached Raoul, evidently unclear how this giant fit in with my divorced lifestyle, perhaps even mistaking him for a new boyfriend of mine. I didn’t bother with introductions, although Raoul surely knew who Derek was after being informed of my ex-husband’s imminent arrival and given the five-minute overview of our marriage and divorce.
“You sounded pretty upset over the phone,” Derek said, turning away from the crowd. “What’s going on?”
“Girls, get out here!” I yelled in the general direction of the stairs before returning my attention to Derek. “I can’t get into it with the girls liable to overhear, but someone threatened our daughters.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “Who?”
“Leticia Robinson.” I grabbed my coat off the back of the couch where I’d tossed it after phoning him and shoved my arms inside. “Remember when I left here Sunday to speak to her mother? She must have told Leticia I’d been over asking questions. I’m on my way to confront her now.”
“Wait a minute.” He leaned against the wall, evidently needing the support of a load-bearing structure to remain upright. “You’re going back to Leticia Robinson’s mother’s house? Now?”
“Yes.” A fresh spurt of anger gushed into my arteries. “Nobody threatens my daughters without a fight.”
Derek looked at his watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock at night.”
I tilted my chin up. “It’s eight-forty. And unlike you, my parental duties don’t shut off at a particular hour.”
He straightened away from the wall and raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “All I mean is, don’t you think it’s dangerous to rush over there in the dark?”
I inhaled deeply, reminding myself that Derek was just a convenient stand-in for the true object of my fury. “Dangerous or not, I’m going.”
“At least wait till morning,” Derek appealed. “This woman could be unstable.”
“That’s why I need you to take the girls. Nobody will know to look for them at your place.” I glanced toward the stairs again, trying to spot the source of our daughters’ delay. I had instructed them to go pack shortly after Charlie, my mother, and I had concluded our huddle in the kitchen. That must have been over forty minutes ago.
Derek ran a hand through his hair. “Did you call the police? You should let them handle this. I don’t like the idea of you chasing after some volatile woman.”
“What are the police going to do?” I challenged. “I have no proof my caller was Leticia, and she’s been missing for years. They’ll think I’m insane.”
The way Derek’s face contorted suggested that same conclusion might be drawn by people other than the police.
“Look,” I said, “I’ll inform the police later, but I need to see Ursula myself first. In the meantime, please just keep the girls safe.”
“Maybe you should come stay with me too.”
My heart stopped beating for a second, my impatience over the girls’ leisurely packing morphing into mild anxiety. You have to admit we had a good thing going, Derek had told me the last time he’d been here. Did he hope to take advantage of the tense situation now and lure me over for a sort of test reconciliation?
Derek watched me, his face frustratingly blank. “If Leticia is threatening the girls, you really shouldn’t stay here either. She likely would be just as happy to harm you.”
A chill shot from the top of my scalp straight to my toes. I’d been so consumed with protecting my daughters that I’d failed to consider how easily I could become the target of an attack.
I swallowed, turning around to look for Meredith and Katherine again. My gaze paused when it reached the living room, and I noted that Derek and I had an audience. My mother and Charlie watched our exchange with undisguised curiosity while Raoul pretended to be absorbed with an expired grocery advertisement he’d found on the coffee table.
I wrenched my attention away from them. “I can stay with Larry.”
“Suit yourself,” Derek replied, “but if that commitment phobic refuses, you’re always welcome at my condo.”
“I appreciate the invite,” I told him, meaning it despite how his continued jabs over Larry’s presumed fear of commitment rankled me. I could have told Derek about Larry’s pizza suggestion, but the moment wasn’t appropriate. I would wait until I wasn’t so shaken up, when I could gloat and truly relish the experience.
Meredith bounded down the steps then, Katherine at her heels. Both of them had the same overnight bags they used for their visitation weekends slung over their shoulders.
“That’s all you’ve packed?” I asked, wondering what on earth had taken them so long if this was the result. “I told you to prepare for an indefinite period of time.”
Meredith rolled her eyes. “How are we supposed to pack for that? Besides, Dad can drive us back here if we forget something.”
“No, he can’t,” I snapped. “You are not to return to this house until I issue my express permission. Do you understand?”
Meredith flinched, but she quickly recovered, pushing past me toward the front door as she regained her air of nonchalance. “What’s the big deal? Is Larry coming over or something?”
“Larry?” I repeated, startled by her conclusion. “Of course not.”
“But your mother will be bunking at his place,” Derek supplied.
The girls aimed scathing looks in my direction.
I glowered at my ex-husband. “That’s not why you two are going with your father. We simply think it’s best for you to spend some more time with him this week.”
“We were just there last weekend,” Meredith pointed out coldly. “And we’ll be there again next weekend.”
“Seeing him every other weekend doesn’t leave much time to bond,” I improvised, hoping this pronouncement didn’t come back to haunt me later. “Sometimes it’s nice to spend some weekdays with him too, don’t you think?”
“Our schools are over here,” Katherine said, her eyes narrowed. “It will take us, like, forever to get there from Dad’s. We’ll have to transfer buses.”
Meredith trained large, imploring eyes on her father. “I can drive us.”
“I’ll drive you girls,” Derek said.
He clamped a hand on our oldest daughter’s shoulder and guided her toward the door, but not before I saw her face fall. I felt a bit peevish that she accepted his proposal instead of arguing about how he treated her like a baby, the position she would no doubt adopt if I were the one to suggest chauffeuring her to school every morning.
Or, I thought in an attempt to cheer myself, maybe she was only delaying the whiny pleas, planning to harangue her father throughout the drive to his place.
Derek halted on the threshold, turning back to give me one last, lingering look before stepping outside. “I was serious about my offer,” he said softly.
I stared at him for a second, my stomach twisting. Then I nodded, the only response I was willing to extend at the moment. I shut the door behind my ex-husband and daughters, sagging against it as I flipped the deadbolt.
Charlie rose from the couch. “What’s the deal with you and Derek?”
I slanted my head. “What do you mean?”
“Did I mishear or did he invite you to move in with him?”
“He didn’t invite me to move in.” I shoved myself away from the door and strode into the kitchen. “He just suggested I might be safer at his condo due to the threats.”
“Does he even have a spare bedroom?” Charlie prodded as he chased after me.
“No,” I said, snatching my keys off the counter.
“So you would most likely be sleeping with him,” Charlie mused as Raoul followed us.
I spun around to glare at my sibling before grabbing my purse and hooking it over my shoulder. “I most certainly will not. I’ll be staying with Larry.”
“Who’s Larry?” Charlie asked.
“My boyfriend.”
I tried to ignore the hurt in his eyes and my resulting guilt for not mentioning my significant other before now. I could pacify Charlie later, when I wasn’t preoccupied by more pressing matters.
I faced my mother as she joined us. “Mom, you should find somewhere else to stay too.”
Witnessing the procession of people exiting the living room, Chip raced after us, skidding to a stop in front of his empty food dish.
“And Chip needs to go with you, Mom,” I told her. “Larry’s condo doesn’t allow dogs.”
My mother placed her hand over her heart as Chip’s tongue dangled from his mouth, saliva pooling around his lips.
“It’s not safe for anyone to remain here,” I reminded her, stepping in front of Chip to block her view of whatever unsavory behavior he engaged in next. “And you can’t go back to your house, what with Leticia breaking in and stealing those papers.”
“Mom, you and Chip can stay with Raoul and me,” Charlie piped in.
My mother and I swiveled toward him, our jaws dropping open in tandem. The offer even seemed to fluster Chip, who started spinning around in circles. Only Raoul maintained his serene composure. He obviously didn’t realize how disruptive my mother could be, having only been exposed to her for a few hours. Nor did he seem to be aware of how my mother and Charlie had become increasingly estranged over the years, although Charlie must have mentioned their strained relationship at some point.
“Raoul and I have a spare bedroom,” Charlie said. “You can use it until we locate Leticia.”
Our mother regarded Raoul, her face pinched. “Do your dogs sleep outside? I don’t want to be sharing my bed with filthy creatures who can’t even bathe themselves.”
“They sleep inside, Ms. Clapton,” Raoul said, unperturbed by her attitude. “But I guarantee they won’t disturb you.”
She braced her hands on her hips. “How can you do that?”
“Rascal and Ramon are very well-trained.”
“Even so,” she said. She eyed Chip mistrustfully. He had stopped his spinning and now looked rather queasy.
“And the guest room is equipped with a locking door,” Raoul added diplomatically.
For his sake, I hoped the lock was on the outside of the bedroom.
“Look, Mom,” Charlie jumped in, tapping his foot. “Do you want to stay with us or not? It’s not like we’re operating a five-star hotel.”
“It doesn’t even sound as if it would receive one star,” she huffed. “Imagine, dogs running amok while people try to sleep.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “The dogs don’t run amok. In fact, they’re better behaved than Meredith and Katie.” He flashed me a small smile. “No offense.”
I waved my hand to indicate his comparison hadn’t bothered me in the slightest. I wouldn’t doubt most dogs who attended summer camp exhibited better manners than my daughters. But my mother squeezed her lips together, the comparison of Raoul’s Labradors to her teenage granddaughters obviously not sitting well with her.
“I promise that while you are a guest in our home, Rascal and Ramon will treat you with the utmost hospitality,” Raoul said, as though the dogs would be standing at attention to fetch her tea or scones.
My mother frowned. “It doesn’t appear I have any choice, seeing as how my own daughter feels fit to kick me out of my home.”
“Mom,” I sighed, “we were threatened, remember? It’s not safe to stay here.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Even so.”
Although, now that I’d had time to reconsider, perhaps I should have encouraged her to remain in my house. Leticia could have done me a huge favor by following through on her threats, zeroing in on my mother when she realized my daughters and I had already scurried off to safety.
“Why don’t I accompany Ms. Holmes to Ms. Robinson’s, and you drive Ms. Clapton and Chip back to our place?” Raoul suggested to Charlie.
Charlie nodded, but a crease had developed in the center of his forehead now that our mother had actually accepted his invitation.
I glanced at Raoul. “You want to come to Ursula’s with me?”
He lifted one of his massive shoulders. “It would probably be best that you not go alone, given the circumstances.”
I had to admit I agreed with him, grateful for the offer extended by this man I’d only just met. How many people would be willing to place themselves in danger for a relative stranger? Even given my relationship to Charlie, I couldn’t help but feel touched.
I caught Charlie’s eye and flashed him a quick thumbs-up. He straightened, his face lighting up.
“I should go pack,” my mother said, heading for the stairs.
“Me too.” Mentally, I had planned to pack after my confrontation with Ursula, but now that we were all leaving at once I dropped my purse and keys back on the counter and followed my mother. “Raoul or Charlie, do you mind throwing some stuff together for Chip? His dog food is in the pantry.”
“We have dog food at our place, Ms. Holmes,” Raoul informed me. “I’m sure Rascal and Ramon won’t mind sharing with their cousin.”
I dispensed a smile in his direction as I started up the stairs. “Thanks, Raoul. And please, call me Betsy.”
When I entered my bedroom, my mother was already placing the clothes she’d brought only nine days earlier back into her suitcase.
“Raoul’s great, isn’t he?” I said, brushing past her to get to the walk-in closet where I kept my own suitcase and clothes.
“I suppose,” she said.
“It’s obvious he adores Charlie,” I prompted.
“Well, of course he does.” My mother sounded surprised I would even need to mention this.
I set my suitcase on the bed. After pulling a few shirts and slacks off their hangers and tossing them in, I stopped and watched my mother as she arranged a pair of socks. “Mom, are you ever going to forgive Charlie for living like a man and being gay?”
She didn’t respond, her only admission she’d even heard my question materializing as a slight pause and the resulting off-center fold of her socks.
“I mean, it’s not as though he really has a choice in the matter,” I pointed out, not sure for a second whether I was trying to convince her or myself. “He’s biologically conditioned to be who he is.”
“Charlotte is very personable,” my mother replied.
“What does that mean?” I said sharply. “That’s not even relevant to the topic at hand.”
She drew back, one of the socks slipping out of her fingers. “All I mean is that it’s hard not to like your sister.”
I yanked open a dresser drawer and began piling underwear on top of my clothes. “But liking and accepting him are two different things.”
“Honey, you know I love Charlotte.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to tell, the way you badger him,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows. “When did I ever badger Charlotte?”
My jaw fell open. “How about when you told him to bear Raoul’s children!”
She waved her hand. “That was merely a suggestion. I was simply pointing out there are easier ways to have children than to adopt.”
“That’s not a decision for you to make. Sometimes your suggestions come across as narrow-minded ignorance.” I stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of toiletries.
My mother had her lips pursed when I walked back into the bedroom. “I suppose you’re right,” she said.
I started at this unexpected concession, losing my handle on a toothpaste tube.
Her shoulders sagged. “You’re correct that I could withhold some of my opinions. It just always seemed to me that families should feel free to discuss things with one another.”
I bent over to retrieve the toothpaste off the floor, wondering why she’d never broached the topic of her troubled finances if she felt that way. But I didn’t ask. Instead, I carefully reshaped the toothpaste tube, unable to look at my mother as I spoke. “It’s not that you should avoid discussing things. It’s that sometimes the way you discuss things discourages others from bringing up their own views.”
“I do tend to be rather strong-minded.”
I risked a peek at my mother. At the moment she struck me as incredibly fragile. Was her frailty the result of her deferential speech or the fact that she was now staring at the tiny tube of cherry lip balm visible within the zippered mesh pocket of her suitcase flap, the same tube responsible for so many recent emotional discussions?
“Strong-minded is a good quality,” I finally told her, turning back to my packing task. “I’ve always admired you for that.”
“You have?”
“Of course,” I said, not meeting her eye.
“Well,” she stammered, “I . . . appreciate that.”
We finished packing in silence, but the quiet was more companionable than awkward. It seemed as though we’d reached a partial truce, both of us understanding the other a little better than before.
We dragged our suitcases downstairs, where Raoul and Charlie had relocated to the loveseat. My mother averted her gaze when she noted Raoul’s hand planted near the top of Charlie’s thigh.
“Shall we be off?” she asked the wall.
Raoul stood up and approached us. “Charlie and I have been talking, and we decided it would be more prudent for the four of us to go to Ms. Robinson’s house together. One of us can accompany Ms. Holmes when she goes inside while the other two wait outside to beckon for help in case there’s trouble.”
I looked at Charlie, who ducked his head and grinned up at me. I instantly recognized the reason for this change of plan: Charlie didn’t want to be trapped in an empty house with our mother while awaiting Raoul’s return. I couldn’t really blame him.
“That works,” I said. “So who’s going inside with me?”
“Raoul,” Charlie replied, easing himself off the couch and joining us near the kitchen counter. “Ursula will hesitate to do anything untoward with him around.”
I glanced at Raoul’s hulking form looking like an impenetrable wall and had to agree with him there.
“You and Raoul can take your car,” Charlie said. “Mom and I will follow individually.”
I hid a smile, Charlie’s reluctance to spend even a moment alone with our mother all too apparent. “What about Chip?”
My mother’s mouth gaped open as she likely envisioned the dog bouncing on her Kia’s cloth seats.
“Chip can ride with me,” Charlie offered.
Upon hearing his name mentioned in conjunction with the word ride, Chip began running around Charlie, barking his delight. Charlie laughed and tried to pat the dog, but Chip was too ecstatic to sit still.
We poured into the garage, Charlie and my mother continuing to the driveway where their vehicles were lined up. I was careful to lock up the house before we began our journey, which started off haltingly as Charlie and my mother backed out of the driveway then had to wait for me to lead the way.
I proceeded down the road, Raoul’s presence in the passenger seat making me somewhat uncomfortable. After all, he was practically a stranger. I wanted to ask about his non-canine interests but hesitated. What if he let slip something controversial, like an enjoyment for bloody bar fights? Worse, what if he started detailing the activities he and Charlie engaged in when they were feeling frisky?
“Thank you for hosting Charlie and me in your home this evening,” Raoul said when we’d driven halfway to Ursula’s in silence.
The unexpected sound of his deep baritone caused me to inadvertently bear down on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, jerking me against the seat.
“Oh,” I said, easing my foot off the pedal, “it was my pleasure.”
“Charlie speaks of you often,” he said.
I spun to face him briefly before returning my focus to the road. “He does?”
“He says he never would have survived his childhood if you hadn’t been there to divert half of your mother’s attention.”
I laughed. “That sounds like something Charlie would say. Our mother can be rather overbearing.”
“She strikes me as a real nice woman.”
I didn’t say anything, wondering whether we were still talking about the same person.
“I enjoyed meeting Ms. Clapton this evening,” he added.
I coughed. “She can be charming, when it suits her.”
“It’s refreshing to meet a woman of her generation who’s so tolerant.”
The flat tone Raoul affected to deliver this ludicrous statement threw me. I could only figure he was one of those people inclined to josh with a straight face. Tolerant would be one of the last words I would have used to describe my mother.
“My own parents refused to have anything to do with me when I came out,” Raoul continued.
“Oh,” I said, surprised he’d volunteered something so personal. Maybe he felt a familiarity belied by our recent introductions. What exactly had Charlie told him about me anyway?
“They couldn’t condone a gay son,” Raoul elaborated. “They claimed I would ruin their standing in the community if I made my preferences public.”
Raoul’s words caused my heart to sink inside my chest. “That must have been difficult for you,” I said.
Raoul exculpated his parents with a shrug. “Their concerns were only natural, given their close affiliation with the Catholic Church.”
“Our mother isn’t overly religious, yet she still doesn’t accept Charlie’s lifestyle,” I sympathized.
“But she tries,” Raoul countered. “At least she makes the effort. To my own parents, disowning their only son was preferable to having one they considered a disgrace.”
“So they just cut you out of their lives?” I couldn’t imagine disregarding Meredith’s or Katherine’s existence, no matter how deplorable I might find their behavior. Even if they murdered someone in cold blood, I didn’t think I could just excise them from my life.
“I haven’t seen them since college now,” Raoul said, sounding matter-of-fact about the situation.
I assumed Raoul was close to my age, which suggested an estrangement stretching close to twenty years. “That seems rather . . . extreme.”
“People can react strongly to situations involving their children.”
“Even so,” I said, cringing when I realized I’d adopted the phrase from my mother.
“What I’m trying to say is, don’t pressure this woman we’re going to see too much. She might respond passionately to allegations concerning her daughter.”
“Ah.” His concern touched me.
I entered Ursula’s neighborhood and slowed down, reading the street signs as I passed. Thankfully, two pairs of headlights shone behind me, my mother and Charlie successfully keeping up.
“Do you ever think of contacting them?” I asked Raoul. “Your parents, I mean.”
“Oh, sure. I write them every Christmas. They never reply.”
I didn’t say anything, not sure how to respond to such a heartbreaking confession. A wave of affection for my own mother surged through me. Despite her criticisms and resistance to change, Raoul was right that at least she had never refused to associate with her own children because of our lifestyle choices or so-called disgraceful decisions.
“Well, Raoul,” I said, forcing my voice to sound upbeat despite the depressed air sparked by this man’s sad situation, “your parents don’t know what they’re missing. You seem like a wonderful person.”
“Thank you, Ms. . . . Betsy,” he said.
I turned down Ursula’s street, passed her house, and parked by the curb a few doors away. Light bled from behind her closed blinds, indicating Ursula’s likely presence inside.
I pointed to the house for Raoul’s benefit. “That’s where Ursula lives.”
I waited until Charlie and my mother had parked before opening the door and getting out of the car. Raoul followed me. I made a point of not looking at either Charlie or my mother, feeling like a criminal for dropping by this woman’s house after dark. Hopefully Ursula’s community hadn’t implemented any sort of neighborhood-watch program.
I traversed Ursula’s front porch and depressed the doorbell. Raoul folded his hands in front of him as we waited, presumably to eliminate the threat of a weapon hidden behind his back. His adopted pose didn’t make him look any less intimidating, but there wasn’t much he could do to mask his linebacker’s build.
The door slid open a crack, just enough to reveal Ursula’s O-shaped mouth. “Betsy. I wasn’t expecting to see you back tonight.” Her eyes darted toward Raoul. “Did you leave something behind when you were here last week?”
“No, I actually came to speak to you again,” I said, but the response seemed unnecessary. Ursula obviously knew a forgotten item wasn’t the reason for my visit. “May we come in?”
As Ursula appeared to debate over whether or not to allow us inside, I pushed the door open farther and stepped past her. Seeing her again had reignited the fury I’d felt when first piecing together Leticia’s responsibility for the threats against my daughters. I’d come for answers, and I refused to leave until I heard this woman’s explanation.
Ursula moved aside, tacitly allowing Raoul entry before she closed the door behind us.
Raoul and I watched Ursula for a moment, her own gaze swinging between the two of us. Nobody seemed to know how to proceed. Having never received a threatening phone call before, I was unclear on how to demand a retraction. Was Ursula even aware that Leticia had placed that call, or was her role limited to notifying her daughter about my previous visit?
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Ursula finally suggested, gesturing toward the living room.
Raoul and I sat on the loveseat I’d occupied during my first visit. Following our lead, Ursula settled in the middle of the larger sofa.
“I received a disturbing call tonight,” I began, my agitation making any sort of polite chitchat or leading conversation impossible. I didn’t even bother to introduce Raoul, not sure how I would describe our relationship anyway. Would it be more appropriate to call him my almost brother-in-law, my sister-turned-brother’s partner, or my bodyguard?
“Go on,” Ursula said, leaning forward and resting her chin on one hand.
I paused for a second, thrown by how unknowing she looked. If she was aware of Leticia’s appalling behavior, she certainly didn’t act like it.
I reminded myself that this woman belonged to a family of actors. Even if she’d never pursued the profession herself, her genetic makeup would nevertheless grace her with the same talents. Perhaps one of her sons had taught her that bending toward someone while propping up your chin alluded to a desire to learn more, having adopted the same stance himself when responding to a woman whipping off her underwear in a porn scene.
“The caller didn’t identify herself,” I continued, watching Ursula for tells. “She told me to give up my investigation, that if I didn’t my children might face harm.”
Ursula’s eyes widened. It could be staged, I told myself, a typical canned reaction upon noticing a giant willy emerging from stage left.
“I think Leticia made the call,” I announced.
Ursula jerked back as if I’d slapped her. “Leticia?”
I clutched the edge of the loveseat as a fresh infusion of rage rushed through my arteries. “I think you told her about my visit last weekend, and now she’s worried I’ll discover where she’s hiding so she called to warn me off.”
Ursula gasped, shrinking farther into the couch. Either she was a really good actress or my accusation truly had taken her by surprise. I chose to believe the former.
“So tell me,” I rumbled, my voice quivering with anger, “where is Leticia hiding?”
Ursula rested a shaky hand over her heart. A moment passed before she said, “As I told you during your previous visit, I haven’t seen my daughter in over three years.”
“You haven’t seen her?” I hissed, picking up on the semantic word game. “And when’s the last time you spoke with her? Right after our chat on Sunday?”
Ursula blinked. “Heavens no.”
“How would Leticia know about my investigation, if you didn’t warn her?” I spat. “I’ll tell you how: she wouldn’t. And why would that knowledge spur her to place that call to me tonight? I’ll tell you why: because she fears my snooping will uncover the crimes she’s been hiding all these years!”
The room plunged into silence. My chest heaved as I consciously pulled air into my lungs to help tamp down my dizzying rage.
“Maybe you should start from the beginning,” Ursula finally said, eyeing Raoul as though pegging him as the more reasonable person between the two of us. “Why do you think Leticia made this call to you? You said the caller had been anonymous, correct?”
“Leticia is the only person who would care about me getting close to the truth,” I told her, but some of my indignation evaporated as I started to consider a second option.
“What truth?” Ursula asked.
Ursula was right that I didn’t have any evidence proving her daughter had made that call. I had initially thought the speaker was male before identifying Leticia as the only person with something to gain from halting my investigation. Maybe my first impression had been more accurate than I’d realized.
Now, I mulled over the possibility of someone else calling on Leticia’s behalf. She could have commissioned someone in her confidence to make the call. After all, her family was full of actors. Or maybe a male relative aware of her former crimes took it upon himself to steal the Phoenix Microchip invoices and threaten me without first consulting Leticia.
“What truth?” Ursula asked again.
I ignored her question. “Is Leticia close to her brothers?”
“Yes, or she was before she disappeared.” Ursula’s eyes darkened. “Why do you ask?”
Some of the fight left my system. For all I knew, Ursula really did believe her daughter was missing. Maybe a brother or uncle or cousin had been helping Leticia hide out. Perhaps Ursula had told this person about my visit the other day, and he in turn had initiated the events leading me here now.
I took a deep breath. “You could be right. Maybe someone besides Leticia did place that call.”
Ursula crossed her arms over her chest. “So now you’re accusing my sons?”
“Well, someone had to make that call,” I said as my hackles rose again.
“My sons do not threaten people,” Ursula said.
“What about an uncle or—”
“Nobody in my acquaintance resorts to that sort of uncouth behavior,” Ursula interrupted.
“Then we’re back to Leticia,” I said, setting my jaw. “You certainly shouldn’t consider her to be in your acquaintance, given that you haven’t seen her in so long.”
“Is it possible somebody in your acquaintance does not care for your attitude?” she suggested. “And perhaps that was the catalyst for this particular phone call?”
“Don’t try to convince me nobody in your family has anything to do with this!” I shouted.
Ursula stood up, seeming to show great restraint as she walked calmly toward the front door. “I believe you’d best be excusing yourselves now.”
Raoul rose, but I stayed seated. “I came here for answers, and I haven’t gotten any,” I told Ursula. “I’m not leaving until you tell us what you know about Leticia’s whereabouts. You can’t provoke your family into bullying me and then kick me out when I confront you about it.”
“On the contrary.” She regarded me with cold eyes as she held the front door open. “I can and I am telling you to leave. You are no longer welcome in my home.”
Raoul reached down and gently gripped my upper arm. If I weren’t currently involved in a standoff, I would have commented on his amazing ability to encircle its entire circumference, his fingers touching his thumb around my, albeit puny, bicep.
“If need be, I can phone the police,” Ursula informed us, raising her eyebrows as though to question whether I would prefer that particular end to our encounter.
I jumped off the loveseat, but made no move to approach the door. “Go ahead. That will save me the trouble of heading over there myself to fill them in on what I’ve learned about your precious Leticia.”
Ursula pressed her lips together. She appeared to be debating whether to leave us unsupervised long enough to fetch her phone.
“That won’t be necessary, Ms. Robinson,” Raoul said, his deep voice jarring me with its unexpectedness. “Ms. Holmes and I will see ourselves out.”
Ursula nodded stiffly as Raoul guided me toward the door. I resisted at first, but then accepted the situation for what it was. Even if I did manage to sit here all night without Ursula phoning the authorities, I wouldn’t glean any useful information from her. She was hell-bent on covering for her daughter and, honestly, I couldn’t claim I wouldn’t do the same if our situations were reversed.
Besides, it would weaken our position if she witnessed me scuffling with Raoul, the bodyguard I’d brought along for protection. Worse, once the police responded to Ursula’s distress call I might discover Raoul had a sordid arrest history and be escorted to jail as his accomplice. Then I would not only be no closer to locating Leticia, but would have to contend with one more complication.
I stepped onto the porch and glared one last time at Ursula Robinson before she shut the door behind us.
