21

 

Bright sunshine streamed through the window of Ed’s office at the Saguaro Valley Golf Course. His assistant, Roger Clark, whistled in disbelief. “What a wild story.” He chuckled. “I would’ve given my eye teeth to see the fallout from that scene.”

“Lunch at the Pegasi was a real roller coaster ride, let me tell ya,” Ed added. “But finding Cora’s twin sister has been a Godsend. I haven’t seen her this happy in years.”

“Have you celebrated, yet?”

“No, not yet. We haven’t had time.”

Roger laughed. “You should take them back to the Pegasi. I’ll alert the media.”

“What a great idea. I’ll do it.” Ed’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t you dare call the press.”

“Aw, why not? Think of it as free publicity. I can see the headlines now: Steady Eddie Timms Scores a Double Bogey.”

Ed laughed and looked at his watch. “I’d better call home so they don’t plan supper.” He dialed the phone. “Hey Rog, there’s Pastor Luke coming for his lesson. He’s all yours.”

“Oh, I see how it is, stick the lowly assistant with the putter-challenged preacher.” Roger chuckled. “By the way, is this a good time to ask for a raise?”

Ed tossed a golf ball at the door as his mischievous employee ducked out. He dialed his home phone number. When he got the answering machine, he left a quick message. “Hey Toots, call me a.s.a.p. Love ya.” He looked around to check for an audience. Even with no one there, he still covered the mouthpiece, cleared his throat, and whispered, “Kissy-kissy.”

A half-hour later, he phoned the house again. Cora hadn’t mentioned any plans when he dropped her off. She couldn’t go anywhere, he had the car, and hers was still in the shop. Where were they? Letitia’s? Well, he couldn’t call her, she’d never hang up. After the third unsuccessful phone call, he decided to contact Wendell. He always bragged about having his finger on the pulse of the community.

The security guard was glad to check in on Cora at the house. He immediately returned Ed’s phone call to report his initial findings. “I’m inside an’ been yellin’ for ‘em, Ed, but I don’t hear nothin’. You’re prob’ly right, they must be out walkin’. Maybe that ol’ magpie, Letitia, is bendin’ their ear. If so, we won’t be seein’ hide nor hair of ‘em for a while.” He hesitated then added, “I reckon I could mosey on over there an’ see.”

“Would you mind?”

“Well, just wait a minute. I’m in the kitchen, now. Your pantry’s open, Ed, an’ a box of macaroni’s dumped on the floor, an’ a can of hairspray, too. Hey! We got us a cell phone on the counter,” he announced. “Prob’ly Em’s, don’t ya think? I’ll just take it over to Letitia’s with me.”

Suddenly Ed heard Wendell let out a sharp whistle. “Ah-oh. I see a broke cup an’ spilt coffee in the hallway.”

The disquieting information alarmed Ed. His stomach churned. Was there a struggle? Or did one of them get hurt? Maybe he should alert Sam.

The Texan’s voice intensified. “This ain’t no good. I see some blood on the floor.”

“Blood?” Ed’s heart was in his throat. Was it Cora’s or Emily’s? “How much blood?”

“Can’t rightly tell since there’s coffee there, too. Woo-whee! This really gets my detective juices flowin’. Too bad Jack had to go get hisself a new drain snake. Boy howdy, is he missin’ out.” Wendell chuckled. “Oh well, Jack’s loss is my gain. I’m headin’ for the bedrooms now.”

Ed heard him knock on a door. “Don’t forget to look in the closets and bathrooms, Wendell.”

“Nope, they ain’t here, neither. Lemme go check your office.”

As Ed visualized Wendell boot-scootin’ down the hallway, he considered all the ramifications of the Texan’s search. He turned and saw the pro-shop manager nearby. “Hey Larry, I need you to call 9-1-1 and send the cops over to my place. I think there’s been a break-in.”

Wendell’s loud voice on the phone recaptured his attention. “Woo-whee! Ed, I hate to tell ya this, but everything’s catty whompus in your office.”

Ed’s mind raced as the news sunk in. “Don’t touch anything, Wendell. I’ll be right there.”

“What do ya mean, don’t touch nothin’? I’m a highly-trained security guard here, an’ this ain’t my first rodeo,” Wendell complained. “An’ don’t ya forget I know all about police procedures. I worked at the department for 30-odd years.”

Ed rolled his eyes. He was aware that custodial work was as close as his friend ever got to actual investigating. Still, the Texan was proud of his link to law enforcement. “Just let the police handle it, Wendell. I’ll be right there.”

It wasn’t long before Ed saw the damage in his home office. The doorbell rang, and he made his way back to the living room. Wendell, a policeman’s worst nightmare, opened the door.

“Howdy.” Wendell scratched his ample belly as Ed joined them. “I’m the senior secur’ty officer here. I done checked the house.”

“What do you mean you checked the house?” The police sergeant asked.

“Just what I said. Ol’ Ed called me first ‘cause I’m the senior secur’ty guard. He couldn’t reach the missus or her sister on the phone. He was worried ‘bout ‘em an’ wanted me to check things out ‘cause Cora’s sister has herself a heart problem. I’ve been all over the house an’ it looks like a buckin’ bronco’s been let loose.”

The policeman frowned at him. “Did you touch anything?”

Wendell took his clearly identifiable John Wayne I-got-it-all-under-control stance. His voice took on an air of importance. “Why is ever-body worried ‘bout me touchin’ stuff? I know this here is an official crime scene, an’ I ain’t been contaminatin’ no evidence.”

Three police officers pushed their way past Wendell and into the house. The sergeant looked at Ed. “Are you Ed Timms?”

“Yes, I am.” He impatiently answered the officer’s many questions.

Later, Wendell stood next to Ed in the far corner of the living room. “If I only had me a tad more time, I coulda found vital evidence.”

The two men watched the police go about their investigation, with the presence of the security guard obviously going unnoticed. Wendell muttered, “They might be makin’ me stand in the corner like a whooped pup, but, I’m gonna stay two jumps ahead of ‘em. I got me an idea. Yessiree. They’ll be singin’ therselves ‘nother tune when me an’ Jack crack this here case.”

Ed tried to change the subject. “Where did you say the handyman was?”

“Aww, he’s stuck at the plumbin’ store. He needed a new drain snake. That ol’ Letitia’s drain got plugged with poodle hair again. She scalps that dog every other month, like clockwork.” He frowned at Ed. “Ya, know, if ya weren’t so famous, we wouldn’t have but one cop here an’ I’d have me a better chance to do my sleuthin’.”

Ed smiled. Talk about dodging a bullet. He quickly pulled the plug on that thought when a bloodcurdling scream came from outside. Was it Cora?

A split second later, the policemen stormed past them and charged out the front door.

Wendell grabbed his Stetson and ran outside with Ed on his heels.

Their elderly neighbor, Letitia Bockman, was in her driveway. Her high-pitched voice screeched as she pointed to the policemen who ran into her garage. Then her feet stomped out an Irish jig and loose skin flapped under her flailing arms. What was going on?

Ed had never seen Letitia in such a frenzied state.

One of the policemen called, “Hey Sarge, better come see this.”

The police sergeant leaned over and put his arm around Letitia’s frail shoulders. With a stern look, he motioned for Ed and Wendell to join them. “Stay here with her.” He headed for the garage.

Letitia shook uncontrollably. “I was just taking my garbage out and Tinkle-Belle started scratching at those boxes in the corner. Then I saw it.” She shivered. “I saw it.”

“Well, what was it?” In one smooth move, Wendell whipped a notepad from his rear pocket and repeatedly clicked his pen.

“It was a bloody hand.” Her voice quivered. “Eewwwww!”

“Can ya describe it for me?”

“Eewwwww!” The feeble woman’s feet repeated the Irish jig.

Ed jerked Wendell aside. “They’ll need to question Letitia. Let’s get her calmed down so she can think.” He hugged her close. “Don’t worry, Lettie, everything will be all right.”

“You gotta be pullin’ my leg, man.” Wendell shook his head. “This has to have somethin’ to do with the Saguaro Sidewinder Case.”

“The what?”

“Ya know, Cora’s case.” Wendell pushed his Stetson to the back of his head. “Ya ‘member that night she said she saw a murder but none of us could find a body? Well, right chere it is.”

Ed stared at the garage. Was Wendell right? Did Cora actually witness a murder? Why hadn’t he believed her? Where was Cora?

Letitia was questioned while both the Timms’ home and hers were cordoned off with yellow CRIME SCENE tape. It was hung along the sidewalk and across the driveway to keep curiosity seekers at bay.

Blue and red lights flashed as the neighborhood crawled with law enforcement.

A police photographer came with a meticulous criminologist, and both homes were searched for clues.

Phoenix area detectives soon joined the primary contingent of police in the search for Cora and Emily.