Chapter 22

 

I took a quick peek into the girls’ closet. The floor was covered by a huge pile that made it look as if the shoe department at Dillard’s had exploded here. The upper shelf contained a few childhood board games—including the same Candy Land I had played with these kids more than a dozen years ago. Plush animals filled a shelf unit like a little button-eyed zoo. If there was a clue that would help me here, I didn’t see it.

With the luxury of a lookout across the street, I decided to spend a little time in the rest of the house. These opportunities wouldn’t come often.

The parents’ room contained a king-size bed, neatly made with a thick comforter of silk in the same navy and tan scheme I’d noticed in the main bathroom. Their adjoining bath followed those tones as well, with tasteful décor items in just the right numbers and the necessities tucked away in drawers. It seemed the kids respected their parents’ space and had left it untouched in their absence.

On to the living and dining areas, where the girls and their messy lifestyle once again reigned. I looked more carefully this time at the receipts and shopping bags on the dining table. All came from Albuquerque businesses. The bags were empty, and I resisted the urge to fold or toss them in the trash.

The huge sectional sofa in the living room faced a monster big-screen TV, the seating area littered with popcorn tidbits and candy wrappers. Six plastic drink cups with dried cola residue sat on the tables. The two elephant-ears houseplants flanking the door to the backyard looked desperate for water. I jammed my hands in my pockets to quell my fierce urge to tidy the place. A bookcase contained few books but held mostly travel mementos—a tiny Eiffel Tower, a set of carved wooden camels, a metal pitcher with a distinct Middle Eastern design. Photos of the family proved they’d been to these places, along with some cute casual shots of the two girls as they grew up. Toddlers gathering Easter eggs in the backyard, a first-day-of-school pose, the two with sleek long gowns and prom dates. I didn’t see a single handwritten note or a tell-all diary in the room, so I headed to the kitchen.

The front of the fridge brought a few insights: A shopping list with yogurt, green juice, blueberries, M&Ms and potato chips sent mixed messages. Photos of the twins at different ages in a variety of vacation spots stuck there in little magnetic picture frames—Disneyland featured in several of them. Inside the fridge, the same contradiction of taste and lifestyle showed up in boxed salad greens, which looked fairly fresh, from Whole Foods alongside a six-pack of beer. The freezer contained fish sticks and a frozen pizza. The tall trash can in the laundry room contained three more pizza boxes and a bunch of empty Coke cans, which really should be in their recycling bin.

Frustrated, I turned to study the whole scene. Was there not a single clue to tell me what the girls were up to? I didn’t see one useful thing. I felt myself getting grumpy. This whole thing was a waste of time.

I made my way out the laundry room door to the garage, through the mess, out the back door, once again leaving it unlocked as I’d found it, although I doubted another sneaky visit to the house would produce any further information. Short of ripping into pillows and dumping the contents of drawers, I’d pretty much covered the place. I mentally kicked myself once again for leaving the unguarded cell phone last time. It had to be the place a modern girl would leave a wealth of notes and messages. I had let it slip away.

Elsa saw me coming and called out from her front door, so I veered toward her.

“It sure took awhile to figure out no one was in the backyard,” she said with a grin.

“Yeah … it did. I have to say, I’m no closer to knowing anything about those girls, other than they are messy housekeepers. Oh, one might be a health food nut while the other binges on pizza and Cokes.”

“I still say—” She stopped, figuring out her insistence wasn’t going to solve anything. “How about some lunch? I can make us a grilled cheese sandwich real quick.”

Well, how could I say no to that? Her sandwiches had got me through a lot of problems much rockier than this. I trailed her into the kitchen.

“What clues do you have so far?” she asked as she sliced Velveeta off a huge block.

“Nothing much,” I admitted. “I followed one girl yesterday while she picked up a friend at one of the UNM dorms. They went shopping, came back here awhile, then went to a party down at the bosque. I stayed long enough to pretty much look over the whole crowd, but the second twin wasn’t there.”

Those sandwiches were smelling wonderful as the buttery surfaces of the bread toasted on the hot griddle.

“Maybe I need to talk to Donna Delaney again, see if I can get a number for the parents.” I was basically thinking out loud, passing time while Elsa scooped the sandwiches onto plates and cut each in half. “Surely, they know where each of their daughters is, and the whole puzzle can be solved.”

“Donna said they didn’t—remember? They told her Zayne has enrolled at State and Clover’s here.”

I felt fairly sure Zayne wasn’t enrolled in school. Spring break had happened a month ago, so I didn’t quite buy her glib answer. However, it didn’t mean she hadn’t moved to Las Cruces. It could be nothing more complicated than her leaving home a few months early and getting a job prior to the fall semester starting in a few months. I kept thinking if I could speak directly with the parents I might get more information. For the moment, though, that sandwich was calling my name.

We finished our lunch and I called Donna. Building upon my skimpy bits of evidence I told her I suspected one or both of the girls had been in Las Cruces recently.

“I’d really like to talk with Rick and Jane if that’s possible,” I said. “Maybe they will have remembered something else since you spoke to them, or maybe I’ll come up with some new questions. Frankly, I’m hitting a lot of dead ends right now.”

“I’m happy to give you the numbers,” she said, “but it may be awhile before you get through. Rick told me their location was changing yesterday and they would be completely out of cell range for the next week. He said something about needing a satellite phone … whatever that is … but I didn’t get the feeling he has one yet.”

I jotted down the information she gave. It would probably not net me anything new, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. She thanked me for sticking with it, expressing worry again over the way the girls’ lives were going. I had the feeling she judged her brother’s parenting on a fairly strict scale, but she didn’t say so.

I was about to dial one of the numbers, not really counting on reaching Jane or Rick, but my phone rang in my hand before I could enter all the digits. Ron.

“Hey, I need you to get over to the Lorrento house and talk to Marcie,” he said. “I’m on my way to the hospital. She whacked Bobby over the head with a skillet and he’s getting treated for a concussion.”

“What?”

“That’s all I know. Marcie called me in a panic. The police apparently went to their house and I don’t have much more than that.”

Great. Just great.

He gave the address in an exclusive area of the North Valley, no more than fifteen minutes away.

“If they arrest her, we’ll have to go bail her out too, I suppose.”

I could not express how very little I wanted to do that.