Tom slowly drove up the Cazador driveway with his lights on bright and window rolled down to look over the grounds as he approached. He could almost smell that this place was trouble. He didn’t get a straight answer from Daniel when he asked a simple question about contractors.
If he hired Bill, and Bill did complete some work, why didn’t he say something?
Instead, Tom got some blah-blah about “licensed and bonded contractors” and a vague reference to their unknown subcontractors. He’d had a long day; again he was on his own time and, technically, out of his jurisdiction and without a warrant. He stood for a moment after stepping out of his car and listened to the chorus frogs start back up. His foot slipped on a bunch of survey stakes beside the driveway. He hefted his flashlight and walked slowly to the door. He listened at the door and heard nothing but the frogs and a creaky board as he shifted his weight. He rang the bell and stepped back from the door.
A woman’s voice called from inside, “Who is it?”
Tom answered in his official voice, “Sergeant Aldrich, Salish Landing Police Department.”
He readied his photo ID as he heard the deadbolt unlock. The woman in the doorway was the same one he saw asleep in Cazador’s truck.
“Ms. Cazador?”
“Please, come in.” She opened the door wider. “Let me get the lights.”
Diana turned up the dim, reddish lights, relieved that her nicks and scratches had already faded. She wore a comfortable short, white dress that accented her long legs, alabaster skin, and youthful figure. She felt her heart rate rise and used her breathing skills to settle it down.
Maybe Daniel was right, she thought. Too much, too fast, too close to home.
She led him to the couch and said, “Please, have a seat.”
Tom remained standing and asked again, “Are you Diana Cazador?”
“Yes, I am,” she said. “Is there a problem? Is my brother all right?”
“I’m Sergeant Tom Aldrich,” he repeated. “I met your brother when you came to town. You were asleep.” He handed Diana his ID. “As far as I know, your brother’s fine.”
She took a moment to study the ID, then handed it back.
“Very nice,” she said. “Usually those pictures aren’t any good. Like a driver’s license.” She reached out to shake Tom’s hand and said, “Yes, my brother mentioned you were very helpful.”
Tom shook her hand. “I just have some questions regarding a missing person.” He hated small talk. The nervous ones loved to chat.
“Missing?” Diana asked. She tried to look like a woman afraid. “That’s terrible! Out here?”
“About a mile from here,” he said. “A car off the bluff, empty, no trace of the driver. I mentioned it to your brother. He didn’t say anything?”
Diana said, “Well, he’s very protective and probably didn’t want to scare me, out here so far from town.” She straightened and said, “Apologies, Sergeant. We have so few visitors that my manners are slipping. Can I get you something? Coffee?”
She gestured toward the couch again but Tom said, “No, thank you. Please, have a seat. I only have a couple of questions.”
Diana sat on the couch, then pointed out the recliner next to it. She was careful to stifle her usual flirtatious manner. This sergeant was dangerous in ways that killing him wouldn’t resolve.
“Maybe the recliner, Sergeant. All of that equipment must weigh a ton.”
Tom perched on the arm of the recliner, noticed that someone had hung the Asian paintings of writing that makes pictures. The blue background of the paintings was identical with the blue enamel wall, so the white Asian writing appeared as a mural. He wondered what it said.
“Yes, it does,” Tom said. “You get used to it until you take it off. Now, Ms. Cazador—”
“Diana, please.”
“Ms. Cazador, did Odd-Jobs Bill do any work for you out here recently?”
Diana feigned surprise.
“Bill? Why yes, he did,” she said. “He put up the last of the garage siding for my brother. Daniel said he did very good work, but on his own schedule, if you know what I mean. He helped me turn this room blue. Why? Is he missing, too? Is he in trouble?”
Tom shook his head. “No, no trouble that I know of. When was the last time you saw him?”
Diana applied her best thoughtful look. “Hmm. A few days ago, at least. He came back for a tarp. I didn’t see him, but the tarp is gone. I don’t usually answer the door in daylight. I have a severe sun allergy.”
“A few days ago … was that Sunday, Monday?”
“Monday, I think.”
“So he did the work on Friday or Saturday?”
“Maybe Sunday,” she said. “Daniel would know.”
“What work did he do for you?”
“Outside, mostly, the siding. But he hasn’t finished the outside trim or painting. My brother does most interior work and hires exterior jobs—he shares our sun allergy. We’re twins.”
“Did Bill do any inside painting?
Diana shifted in her seat. This cop was zeroing in like he knew. Her policy about lying and keeping stories straight was never to lie about the small stuff. She sensed this was the time for the small stuff.
“Yes,” she said. “He helped in this room. The exterior was Daniel’s focus for him because of our allergy situation. Daniel and I can handle most of the finish work. You can see Bill does very good work when he shows up.”
Tom made a bit of a show about looking at the paint job. He touched the wall.
“Enamel,” he said. “Why use enamel in the living room?”
“Ah!” she said. “That was for me. I’m very fussy about clean walls for our art. We have quite a bit of art and change it often. In this case, I chose this cobalt blue to match this Mitsui collection we acquired at auction. My brother’s not a slob, at all, but I’m more particular. He drags dirt in from his workshop. I like a room easy to clean. Especially since we spend most of our lives in our home.”
Tom’s experience was that long answers to short questions indicated someone holding back. Why hold back about enamel?
“Well, this room looks very nice.” He stood to go. “Oh,” he continued, “you said Bill left work unfinished? Do you expect him back?”
Diana stood to see him to the door. She felt his unease leak through his calm demeanor.
“I didn’t have anything more for him inside,” she said. “Daniel has some exterior work left, but he hasn’t said when Bill would be back.”
“Did he talk about family, friends?”
Diana chuckled and hoped it was disarming. “He hardly spoke at all. Just ‘Yes, ma’am’ and ‘No, ma’am.’ Very polite. I couldn’t break him of the ‘ma’am’ habit.”
“I see. Well, thanks for your time, Ms. Cazador.”
Diana matched his formality. Matching people’s demeanor made them more comfortable. “You’re welcome here anytime, Sergeant Aldrich.”
She extended her hand and Tom reciprocated. They held the handshake for a quiet moment, studying each other’s eyes. Tom blinked first, and let himself out.
Tom took off his hat and tossed it into the car when a pair of headlights came down the drive. Jean pulled up beside his cruiser and stopped him.
“Tom. Tom, do you have a second?”
Diana listened intently behind the front door as Jean talked with Tom. Her hearing picked them up easily despite the door and distance.
“Sure, Jean,” he said. “What’s up?”
Jean got out and said, “Okay, maybe nothing. But I was going to call you in the morning.”
“Call me about what?”
Jean looked up at the house and didn’t see anyone at the upstairs window. She lowered her voice.
“It’s Alice. She was supposed to meet James out here for a job and never showed. Very not like Alice.”
Diana stepped back from the door.
Jean shut off her car and Tom asked, “She was supposed to work here, you say? When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday,” she said. “Out here. I brought her and James to meet Daniel. His sister has quite a lot of landscape work for them. James finished some work for them here after school, alone. Alice was supposed to bring him tools and lay out more work.”
“You’ve probably checked her house?”
Tom was talking with Jean, but not looking at her. Now he was scanning the vicinity of the house but didn’t know for what. He felt a bad tingle. He didn’t want to leave Jean out there but didn’t have a good reason to say so.
“Marie and I have tried to call all day. We went to her place when Marie was free. She’s not home. Car’s at home. Bike’s gone. Cat wasn’t fed, and she’s crazy about that cat.”
Something prickled the back of his neck.
“I’ll run by there now,” he said. “Where can I find you?”
“I’m meeting Daniel here for dinner. He’s working late in town. I’ll be here or on my boat.”
Tom nudged the scatter of stakes with his toe. “He drives that new Mercedes wagon, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“He was driving out the Bluff Road when I was coming in here.”
Jean rubbed her arms in the cool air. “Well, I’m early on purpose. He’s demonstrating product for Marie’s competition in town. I’m hoping to get on good footing with his sister. I think she’s a bit jealous of his interest in me. They’re twins, very close.”
Tom opened his cruiser door while Jean picked up her bag and closed hers. Tom said, “Well, be careful.”
Jean saw that he was serious.
“What do you mean? Careful of what?”
Tom cursed his habit of blurting and tried to cover. “You know. Of trying too hard in a relationship. Sometimes that’s what kills it.”
Jean laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Right. Relationship advice from the town’s most dedicated bachelor. Tell it to Marie. You should marry that girl, you know.”
Tom slid into the cruiser, started it up and turned on the lights. He raised his voice over the engine and spoke out his open window. “Don’t consider the source. Consider the advice.”
Jean waved in the headlights on her way to the house. The side door of the workshop was open slightly so she headed there instead of to the front door. Over her shoulder she said, “Whatever, Tom. You consider my advice, too!” She knew he couldn’t hear but felt better for saying it.