Murder With Peacocks(25)

"Does he think something could have happened to her?" I asked. Trying hard not to sound too hopeful.

"Goodness, I hope not," Mother said. "I think perhaps he's worried that she may have gotten a little vexed at his leaving her alone all day yesterday. While he and I did all our little errands."

"Maybe he's right. She is supposed to be his houseguest."

"Yes, but good heavens, half the neighbors had invited her to visit them or offered to take her places. Your father even came out early to take her bird-watching and she never showed up."

"Well, let's call some of the neighbors and see if anyone has seen her."

We called all the neighbors. No one had seen Mrs. Grover. I went over and searched Jake's yard and the small woods in back of it, in case she'd fallen, broken her hip, and been unable to move, as had happened to an elderly neighbor the previous year. No Mrs. Grover. We braved the dust of the attic and the damp of the cellar to see if she might have been overcome by illness while indulging in a bit of household snooping. Still no Mrs. Grover. There were dishes in the sink and half a cup of cold coffee on the bedside table in her room that Jake didn't think had been there when he left yesterday morning, but he couldn't be sure. She had left three suitcases and quite a lot of clothes, but there was no way we could tell if anything was missing. I was quietly amused by the number of small but valuable household items that seemed to have found their way into her suitcases. Things she considered part of her rightful inheritance from the late Emma Wendell, I supposed.

Having met the woman, I could easily believe that she would storm off and leave Jake to have fits worrying about her. But that didn't mean she couldn't have gotten ill or had an accident. And I privately doubted that she would have gone off, even temporarily, and left all her loot behind where Jake could reclaim it.

While we were searching, the sheriff turned up at Jake's house. It was rather unsettling; the sheriff was a cousin, and dropped by quite a lot, but usually his conversations with Mother revolved around family gossip, not police procedures.

"We're going to list her as officially missing first thing in the morning," he announced.

"Anything could happen between now and then," Jake said.

"Frankly, I decided not to wait to start checking around," the sheriff assured him. "She's not in any of the local hospitals or morgues, and there are no Jane Does remotely fitting her description. She can't have taken a plane or train or bus; none of them have a credit card transaction in her name and these days the ticket agents tend to remember anyone who pays in cash. I got in touch with the police department down in Fort Lauderdale, and they'll let me know if she shows up at home. We could try to get some dogs in here to try to track her in case she's ... wandered off and lying ill someplace."

"I'd appreciate that," Jake said. "I only hope I'm not putting you to all this trouble for nothing. I mean, I'd feel terrible if she just showed up tomorrow and we find out that she forgot to tell me she was going to visit some friend who lives down here. It just has to be some kind of silly mix-up like that, doesn't it?"

He looked hopefully up at the sheriff. "That's very probable, Mr. Wendell, but I'd feel terrible if we didn't do everything we could to make sure she's all right," the sheriff replied in the earnest tones he usually reserves for the election season. "If you hear from her, you let us know straight away, you hear? And we'll call you the minute we find out something."

I spent most of the rest of the day trying to do a few wedding-related chores in between fielding phone calls about Mrs. Grover, helping coordinate the search for Mrs. Grover, and reassuring an increasingly anxious Jake that I was sure nothing serious had happened to Mrs. Grover.

"I certainly hope she really is all right," I told Dad as we sat on the porch after dinner. "She's totally wrecked my week's schedule and probably taken ten years off Jake's life, the way he's worrying, but I will feel guilty about resenting it all until I know she's all right."

"Yes," he said. "I feel mildly guilty for all the little pranks I was planning to play on her."

"Let's resolve to be especially nice to her when she shows up again," I said.

"Agreed," said Dad. "No more little pranks."





Thursday, June 2



I woke up early, couldn't get back to sleep for wondering if anyone had heard from Mrs. Grover, and finally gave up and came down for breakfast.

"Any news of Mrs. Grover?" I asked.

"No, but Eileen called," Mother said.

"Make my day; tell me she's coming home to pick out a dress."

"No, she and Steven are staying over at Cape May," Mother said. "Such a nice place for a honeymoon."