Up Close and Personal. Fern MichaelsЧитать онлайн книгу.
possible she found out she was Sarabess’s daughter? The truth, Lillian. There has to be a reason for her to have bolted like that in the middle of the night.”
Lillian bunched the bottom of her apron in her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know. I suppose she might have heard me and John arguing. You know what a curmudgeon he can be. This is the only life we’ve ever known. You know how Sarabess is; she could boot us both out of here on any kind of a wild whim. We both know she is not a kind person. Where would we go, how would we survive? Our savings wouldn’t last long. I’m sorry, Mitzi, so very sorry.”
“Well, for starters, you could have come to work for me. I would have paid you decently and put a roof over your head. That husband of yours is more stubborn than a mule. This is the result.”
“For God’s sake, Mitzi, the girl wasn’t ours. We just took care of her. I did my best not to love her because in my heart I knew one day she’d go up there to that Hill, and I’d eat my heart out. John…John wouldn’t allow himself to get close to her for the same reason. Sometimes, late at night, Mitzi, when John thought I was asleep, he’d go to her room and just stare at her. Curmudgeon that he can be, he always had tears in his eyes. Despite all that, our hearts were broken when Trinity ran away. John wasn’t himself for years.”
Mitzi leaned across the table and patted Lillian’s hand. “I know, I know. It’s my own guilt, Lillian. I promised Harold I would…Let’s just say I promised him nothing bad would ever happen to Trinity. I have to leave now. I’ll call you if anything turns up.”
Lillian walked with Mitzi to the door. Both women stood on the small front porch and looked up at the Hill. It was lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I think she’s afraid of the dark,” Lillian said.
“Miss Sarabess Windsor is afraid of a lot more than the dark, Lillian. Don’t tell John I was here. He might get upset.”
Five minutes later, Mitzi was barreling down the highway, her eyes filled with tears.
Mitzi marched into the police station like she owned the place. She wrinkled her nose as she moved over to the desk sergeant. “Good morning, William. I know it’s early, and you just came on duty, but I wanted to beat the rush. I need a favor, and I need it right away. I want your crime laboratory people to tell me what this postmark is.” She slid the small square she’d cut off the envelope Lillian had given her (so that no one would know who the addressee was) across the sergeant’s desk.
“What exactly does ‘right away’ mean, Miss Mitzi?”
“One hour, William. I’m going to class now, and I’ll be back. You need to get some deodorizers in here. Maybe some bleach or…something.”
“I’ll pass that along. You’re looking a bit peekid, Miss Mitzi,” William said.
Mitzi grimaced. Of course she looked peekid. She hadn’t slept a wink. Then she remembered she never really slept. Maybe she would double up on her vitamins.
The desk sergeant winked at Mitzi. “Go on and bend yourself in two. I’ll have the information by the time you get back.”
Mitzi waved airily as she sprinted out the door, holding her nose to make a point.
Mitzi felt her heart skip a beat when she entered the station an hour later.
William was smiling from ear to ear. “Got it for you, Miss Mitzi.”
“Oh, you dear, sweet soul, I owe you for this. This is really important, William, and I can’t thank you enough.”
“You know, Miss Mitzi, fifteen years ago when this letter was sent, the lab might not have been able to clear this up but with all the modern technology we have, thanks to you, we got you the name of the town. The town is called Spangler. Look, I’m not going to ask you what this is all about, but if you need our help, just let us know. We can go where you can’t go, that kind of thing. Cop to cop, we might be able to help you. Just tuck that into the back of your mind, okay?”
“Okay, William. Thanks again.”
“Anytime, Miss Mitzi. You drive slow now. We pulled you over seven times this month. You have to stop taking that goat and parrot with you when you skedaddle around, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Mitzi mumbled as she danced her way out of the station. She called a greeting to this one, asked another one about the kids, agreed with others about the beautiful June weather.
Back in her SUV, Mitzi looked down at the lab report and the little square with the faded postmark in the clear plastic envelope. Spangler, Pennsylvania. All she had to do now was go on the Internet, do a search, print out her findings, and dump it all in Jake’s lap. Woohoo, she thought, things were starting to pick up, and if there was one thing she loved in this life, it was a good skirmish, especially if said skirmish might lead to knocking Miss Sarabess Windsor on her elegant, haughty ass.
Thirty minutes later Mitzi was surfing the web. Far from being a computer wizard, she had to go to several sites before she found what she wanted. She printed out the zip code, which was 15775. She searched for the weather and population.
Small town, way smaller than Crestwood. A perfect place to get lost in for a young girl on the run. Small coal-mining town a long time ago. On the other hand, wouldn’t a runaway stick out like the proverbial sore thumb? How did Trinity get there? Did she hitchhike? Probably. Mitzi shuddered at the thought. Gory headlines of missing children pricked at her closed eyelids. Still, fifteen years ago things weren’t as bad as they were today.
Mitzi sat patiently as the skimpy information printed out. She used the time to remember how many detective agencies she’d hired to find Trinity, all to no avail. All of them said the same thing: Trinity Henderson had disappeared off the face of the earth. And those agencies were supposed to be the best of the best.
Mitzi’s housekeeper, who was as quirky as her mistress, appeared in the doorway. “I fed the animals. I made you a soybean loaf, a baked potato, and some tofu and some kind of green stuff that’s going to make you poop green. Call me on my cell if you think you’re dying from eating that crap. I’m going to the movies.”
“What did you have for dinner, Celeste?” The housekeeper’s name wasn’t really Celeste. It was Myrna Wojouski. Mitzi thought the name Celeste sounded more ethereal, more in tune with the stars and the universe.
“I had a small T-bone that was very pink, French fries with lots of ketchup, some fresh string beans, and a brownie with ice cream.”
Mitzi snorted. “Then you better call me on the house phone in case you keel over. I thought I heard your arteries snapping shut a while ago. What are you going to see?”
“A Brad Pitt movie. You know how I lust after him.”
“Are you still writing fan letters to him that he doesn’t answer?”
“He’s busy, Mitzi. I never expect an answer.”
“That’s your problem, Celeste, you have no expectations. Why do you spend money to fatten his bank account if he doesn’t have time to answer your letters?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I should be back by ten thirty. I might stop for a banana split before coming home.”
Mitzi waved good-bye and went back to sorting through the papers she’d printed out. It certainly wasn’t much in the way of information but if Jake actually went to Spangler, Pennsylvania, he could ask questions, show off his charm. Few women could resist her nephew’s pleasing personality. Everyone who met Jake liked him. He was a guy’s guy, too.
Should she go over to Jake’s now or wait till morning? Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Mitzi slipped on a pair of sandals and beelined out the door before the animals got wind that she was going cruising.
As she whizzed down the highway, Mitzi wondered where the day had gone. Hours these days just seemed to fly by. She’d read an article that said