“Mrs. Berkowitz —-” Louis began.
“Call me Ruth, please.”
“Ruth,” Louis said, setting the glass on a coaster. “Did your sister and her husband talk about Paula’s disappearance much?”
Ruth sat down in a blue wing chair, holding her glass. “In the early days, after her disappearance, they did.”
“So they never thought she left on her own?”
“Clara never saw Paula for the way she was, not even after the thing in high school.”
“What thing?”
Ruth hesitated then took a sip of her iced tea. “It was cruel, you know, one of those things kids do. Some boys made up a game where the loser had to take the homeliest girl to some dance. Paula was the girl they chose. She found out later.”
Louis was writing.
“She was overweight, you see,” Ruth went on. “She had a sister who was thin as a stick, and well, you know, in the sixties, thin was everything. All the girls wanted to look like Twiggy.”
“Paula worked at the grocery store, right?” Louis asked.
Ruth frowned. “She did? Oh, wait...now I remember. Yes, at the Winn-Dixie. Clara thought if Paula had her own money it would boost her self-esteem. I knew it would take more than fifteen dollars a week to do that, but I couldn’t tell Clara that.”
Louis thought about his next question carefully before he asked it. “Did she ever try to commit suicide?”
Ruth’s little eyes widened. “Heavens, I don’t think so. I’m sure Clara would have told me.” She paused. “But then again, maybe not. Back then, we didn’t talk about things like that much.”
“Do you know if she had any close friends?”
Ruth shook her head. “I was living in Minnesota then. I didn’t know Paula well. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe a boy? One boy who she was close to?”
“I would’ve heard. Paula getting a boyfriend would’ve been big news to Clara.”
“Is there anything else you can think of that might make a difference?” Louis asked.
Ruth thought for a minute, her finger on her powdered cheek. “I do know Paula desperately wanted children. When my daughter had her children, Paula would send her all kinds of baby things. She spent all of her work money on a baby she would never probably even meet.”
Ruth looked up at Louis. “Kind of sad, isn’t it?”
Louis pulled the Mustang into a driveway at 336 Isle of Capri Boulevard, stopping behind a monstrous RV with Florida plates. The RV was four times the size of the Chevy van that sat next to it, and much newer.
Louis climbed out of his car, and walked along the side, checking out the inside. It was prettier than most homes. Bags of groceries sat on the counter.
He looked up at the house just as a woman came out the front door. She was carrying a box of kitchen pans and utensils. She was probably forty-five, with a trim, tanned body. Her shoulder-length blond hair looked like satin and swung in sync with her hips as she walked. She saw Louis and stopped.
“Can I help you?”
“Louis Kincaid. I’m a private investigator. I’m looking for Julie Plummer?”
“I’m Julie,” she said, coming forward slowly. She stopped at the RV door.
Louis opened the door for her. She hesitated then set the box down just inside the door, turning to face him.
“Thanks.” She brushed her hair back. “Now, what exactly are you investigating?”
“The disappearance of Mary Rubio. You were listed as the reporting party on the police report.”
Julie looked at him blankly.
“Mary Rubio. The report says you were her foster mother.”
“Oh...Mary. Yes, I remember.”
How could she forget her so easily?
Julie brought up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she stared at Louis. “Why are you asking about Mary after all these years?”
“Her disappearance might be related to a new case,” Louis said. He pulled out his notebook. “Can you tell me anything about her? How she disappeared, her habits...”
Julie’s thin brows knitted into a frown, bringing a wrinkle to her otherwise placid face. “I only had Mary for a few months.”
“What was she like?”
Julie hesitated. “She was trouble. She was strange, emotionally unstable, disruptive, and depressed. In the short time I had her, she tried to harm herself at least a dozen times.”
“How?”
“She’d cut herself, on the arms and thighs. Once she pushed a lit cigarette into the back of her hand.”
“Did she ever try to harm anyone else?”
“No, just herself. Sometimes she would scream at the other kids for no reason. One time, she tied one of our toddlers to a chair and tried to force-feed him some oatmeal. Strange.”