Braided rugs were scattered across the pine floor in a large, sunny room. “Sophie, your house is wonderful,” Mom said.
“Thank you. It is where Andrea grew up. My husband and I moved here after we were married and I’ve lived here ever since.”
She showed us to our upstairs room. Bright Texas sunlight streamed in through large windows hung with white crisscross curtains. Handmade quilts covered the twin beds. Suddenly, I realized how tired I was.
We dropped our suitcases on the floor. “This is lovely, Sophie,” I said. “We can’t thank you enough.”
She waved away our gratitude. “I’m honored that you are here. The bathroom is right through that door. Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator in the kitchen and just pull the door closed behind you when you leave. It’ll lock. I’m going to have to get back to the shop.”
“I believe I’ll go with you,” Mom said to me as Sophie left. “I want to meet this Lee Davis person.”
Long before we reached police headquarters, I began to wish that my appointment with Lee Davis had been scheduled for tomorrow. My mind had been in overdrive all night working over the things Steve Hopper told me and I had had very little sleep. Now, even with plenty of coffee, my eyes felt scratchy and I was as alert as a bear disturbed in the middle of hibernation. Which is to say, drowsy.
--| |--
As it turned out, we needn’t have hurried. The receptionist, whose name tag said Tiny Monroe, told us Lieutenant Davis had been called out on an emergency but another officer, Sergeant Maria Romero would meet with us. Ms. Monroe looked us over and nodded, apparently satisfied with what she saw.
She shifted her wad of gum to the back of her mouth and talked around it. “About time somebody from Levi came to talk to us. Although I think it’s mighty strange that you’re coming after Andrea has been gone for two years. That first husband of hers, that Tom fellow, didn’t like being thrown over for another man. Those Motts hold long grudges, let me tell you.”
“Thank you, Tiny.” A tall, slim woman came from an inner office. She frowned at Ms. Monroe and shook her head. Under her arm she carried a blue, legal-sized folder.
“I’m Maria Romero,” she said, extending her hand.
Her honey-colored skin, black hair, and dark eyes spoke clearly of her Hispanic background. She wore her hair pulled back into a bun and her makeup had been applied sparingly. I had the feeling that this woman was truly a professional.
Maria escorted us to her office on the second floor and invited us to sit in the two chairs in front of her desk.
“Actually, Lieutenant Davis did want to meet with you,” she said, “but he thought I’d be the next logical choice because I’ve lived here all my life, been a police officer for fifteen years, and know just about everybody in town. Although I wasn’t well acquainted with Andrea Worth, I do know quite a bit about her family background and I knew her first husband. In fact, I went to high school with Tom Mott.”
Mom, never one to mince words, leaned toward her. “If you knew Tom, can you tell us what he was like? Was he outgoing, shy, or what? Did he have a temper? From what we’ve heard, sounds like he was pretty easily riled.”
Maria raised her eyebrows and looked from her folder to Mom. “Pretty fiery, I’d say.” She rifled through some papers in her folder. “I understand that, according to Lieutenant Davis, you have already spoken with Steve Hopper? He gave you some of the background on Andrea and Tom Mott’s marriage?”
“Yes, he said that Andrea and Tom had a rocky marriage that didn’t last long. But Lieutenant Davis told me on the phone last night that Tom was on his ranch at the time Andrea disappeared and couldn’t have made the trip to Levi and back without somebody being aware he was gone. His ranch hands and several town folk said they had seen him right here in Amarillo.”
“That’s true. The investigating officer’s notes say the only time the police were called was during a restaurant brawl when Tom got a bit physical. But I happen to know there were at least two other times when a loud argument was overheard right here on a city street.”
Sergeant Romero propped her chin in her hands. “You know, I was surprised when I first heard that Andrea had married Tom. He had the reputation of being a real womanizer and someone who did business with a bunch of mighty questionable cohorts. On the other hand, Andrea always seemed to be a hard worker and a smart businesswoman. I heard that she made several changes in her mother’s shop that increased sales considerably. I also heard that Andrea’s mother didn’t even know about the wedding until it was a done deal.”
Sophie never told us that.
Mom rubbed her upper lip and squinted at something in the distance, a sure sign she was deep in thought. “Of course, after they were divorced, Andrea re-married. Seems to me if Tom had been inclined to get rid of his wife, it would have been more profitable for him to have done that when he could have inherited a chunk of her money.”
Maria nodded. “You would think so. However, I do know that in their divorce settlement, Tom kept the ranch he and Andrea had bought together. And it borders that great big Inglenook Ranch that she inherited from her grandmother.”
“OK, I’ve got to know something. I didn’t mention it to Sophie because I didn’t want to sound rude—but Inglenook? What kind of name is that?” I asked.
“It’s a very pretty name.” Mom smiled. “It means a fireside or a chimney corner. Your own Grandma Grace, Darcy, liked to curl up with a book in a corner by the fireplace. It was her favorite reading place, she said, when she was a girl.”
Hmm. A person never grows too old to learn something new.
“So, did Andrea inherit a lot of money plus the ranch from her Grandma Williams?” I asked.
“I don’t know how much money, but I do know that Eudora Williams was considered a millionaire around town.” Again, Ms. Romero consulted the folder. “Of course, it’s no secret that the ranch went to Andrea at her grandmother’s death. The title to the ranch was transferred to Andrea on the county records. The section of land that Andrea and Tom bought later would be considered joint property, but nobody knows if he got his hands on some of her other money, and nobody has access to her banking records at present. If Andrea’s body is eventually discovered, then probate kicks in and that leaves a lot of things open to official scrutiny.”
She continued. “I hesitate to even mention the other thing I’ve wondered about. This is probably only gossip, but it could be important to the case; I don’t know. There is a niece, Charlene Williams, who worked for Eudora Williams off and on for several years and she was convinced that her grandmother would divide the Inglenook ranch between her and Andrea. When she learned that Andrea got the whole ranch, several folks heard Charlene say she wouldn’t stand for it; she’d take care of Andrea. Of course, that was probably just empty threats from a jealous woman.”
Charlene Williams was fast becoming a most interesting character in this tragedy. I would call her as soon as I could.
“But surely, since there were only two grandchildren, Charlene was not left out in the cold by her grandmother; no inheritance at all?” I asked.
Sergeant Romero shook her head. “Charlene got a rental property in town and, I think, some heirlooms. But she really wanted that ranch.”
She paused. “I do know that Charlene was at work the day Andrea disappeared.”
We thanked Sergeant Romero for her time and headed for the elevator.
“Well,” my mother said, “it looks like everybody who might have had a hand in Andrea’s disappearance was conveniently occupied elsewhere; that’s strange in itself, but it could happen. So maybe she did just up and leave on her own.”
Mom had spoken as we walked by the desk belonging to Tiny Monroe.
“And then again, maybe not,” Tiny muttered.
I turned around and looked at her. “What did you say?”
Tiny shrugged and picked up a sheaf of papers. Turning her back to us, she stalked over to a file cabinet. I looked at Mom. She shook her head.
“I think the interview is over,” Mom said.