CHAPTER NINETEEN - On the Move

C HAPTER N INETEEN

On the Move

E arly the following morning, Isabelle and Kat brought their personal items to the apartment at the Spangler complex. They entered via the exterior door, since they were the first to arrive. Someone had to unlock the interior access door, which Isabelle assumed would be Jessica, George, or Oliver.

“What if I want to start work early?” Isabelle mused.

“Ask Oliver for a key. Tell him you’re an early riser.”

“Do you think he’ll go for it?” Isabelle asked.

“Worth a try,” Kat responded.

They climbed the flight of stairs that led to the spacious guest apartment. They both stopped short as they entered. “Do you smell that?” Isabelle asked.

“Aftershave?” Kat answered.

“Cologne. I smelled it yesterday. Oliver. Eros by Versace. But it’s much stronger now.”

“So someone came up here overnight?” Kat speculated.

“Or early this morning. Smells kind of fresh. Something is definitely up between those two.”

“Dickie and Oliver?”

“Yes. Did you notice how nervous Dickie was when we were up here? His eyes kept darting all over the place.”

“Let’s take a look around.”

“You don’t suppose whoever came in is still here?” Isabelle cautioned.

Kat looked at her. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. I’ll protect you.” She grinned.

Isabelle walked over to the wall with the French doors that concealed the built-in desk. She leaned over and noticed a smidgen of white powder. “Take a look at this.” She motioned to Kat.

Kat dabbed a finger on the remnants of powder and then on the tip of her tongue. It was bitter. She looked at Isabelle. “Maybe cocaine.”

“But didn’t Vanessa say she saw pills?” Isabelle recounted Vanessa’s story.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean old Dickie boy and Oliver aren’t into other types of recreational drugs.”

“Oh, boy. This is getting very complicated.”

“You got that right, sista.”

“Should we clean it up?” Isabelle asked.

“If he comes back and sees someone cleaned the desk, he might freak. Let’s pretend we didn’t find it for now,” Kat replied.

The seven o’clock whistle blew, and the place began to bustle. The parking lot filled with cars, and trucks were making their way to the millwork area.

“Let’s go downstairs. See who’s here first,” Kat suggested.

As they made their way to the lower level, Isabelle told Kat she was going to spend the night in Eugene. She needed time to study the floor plans and explore the inn room by room.

“You gonna be alright on your own?” Kat asked. “I don’t think I can pull off an overnighter when it’s only an hour away.”

“We’ll see how the day progresses,” Isabelle said, as she tried the interior door to the office. It was unlocked. Jessica was already at her desk. She had reading glasses dangling from a chain around her neck and a mug on her desk that said, I F Y OU C AN R EAD T HIS , Y OU’RE T OO C LOSE .

“Good morning, Jessica. Funny mug.”

“Are you talking about my face?” Jessica chuckled.

Isabelle appreciated this woman’s sense of humor. “You’re quite the card.”

“That’s how I keep myself entertained.” Jessica snickered. “You plannin’ on goin’ to Eugene today?”

“Yes. I’ll probably spend the night.”

“I’ll let them know.” Jessica sent off a quick email to the manager of the Eugene location. She looked up. “Dickie said to let you know that Bart is going to accompany you.”

Isabelle tried not to sneer. “Is he going to be spending the night, too?”

“Nope. No more rooms. He can show you around and skedaddle back here.”

Isabelle was relieved. She wanted just enough time with Bart to get her take on him, but she didn’t want someone watching every move she made. Isabelle’s burner vibrated, and she turned to walk toward her desk. “Okay, thanks, Jessica.” She didn’t want to read the text in front of anyone else. When she was situated properly, she glanced down at her phone on her lap. It was Annie:

Sasha arriving from Seattle in hour. Stall until you get the go from me.

Isabelle looked around and sent a reply: Got it.

Now she had to figure out how to delay her departure. Dickie. She’d have a casual chat with Dickie. Tell me about your job. How long have you been here? Anything you can share about the inns? Which is your favorite? That would also give her an opportunity to get a better read on him. Isabelle was good at reading body language. She called over to Jessica, “Do you know if Dickie is available?”

“He’s usually getting his coffee about now. You can check the cafeteria. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No. I just had a few questions. Thanks.” Isabelle got up and walked to the cafeteria. Dickie was at a booth near the window. Bart was with him. This could get tricky. She quickly sent a text to Kat.

Need to get Bart away from Dickie.

Kat responded in seconds: On it

Isabelle approached the two men. “Good morning. Do you mind if I join you?”

Dickie smiled. “Not at all. Please. Bart, move over for the lady.” Instead, Bart got out of the booth and let Isabelle slide in. He was too nervous to be trapped.

In less than a minute, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: “Phone call for Bart Nichols.”

“Excuse me.” He walked to the house phone. “Yeah?” Pause. “Sure. I’ll be there shortly.” He went back to the table. “Our new driver has a coupla questions. Gonna meet her in the yard.” He turned and left the cafeteria through the side door.

Isabelle figured between the two of them, they could postpone Isabelle’s departure for an hour. At least. Bart seemed the type who wanted to talk a lot, but Dickie was always dominating the conversation.

Isabelle and Dickie talked about Milton Spangler and his tenure. “Yep. Been here almost twenty-five years. Started when I got out of vocational school. Great place to work.”

Isabelle thought he seemed sincere. Why would he be involved in something that could ruin his and everyone else’s careers? Must be something huge, and by the look and sound of it, drugs were involved. Just how much was what they had to find out. Her phone vibrated. She didn’t want to check it in front of Dickie, so she began to wind down their conversation. “I suppose I should be moving along. I know Bart probably has a lot on his schedule besides babysitting me. It’s been a pleasure spending a little time with you. I’ll report in later.”

“I believe you’re supposed to report to Benjamin.”

“That’s right.” She tried to interpret his tone. Nothing abrasive or arrogant. “I’ll keep you in the loop so you can keep Oliver in the loop.”

“Lots of looping.” Dickie chuckled.

“I just don’t want anyone to think I’m not doing my job or keeping anyone out of the loop.” Isabelle smiled.

Dickie gave her words a second’s thought. Better for him to know what was going on at the same time as everyone else. “I’d appreciate it. Thanks. This way, I can be ready to handle things if need be. Not that I expect anything to happen, but with Mr. Spangler still recovering, I know Benjamin and Oliver have their hands full.” Oliver, Bart, and I do, that’s for sure, he thought to himself.

“Thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Isabelle walked toward the ladies’ room before going back to her desk. She checked her phone when she got into one of the stalls.

Ok. Go.

That meant Sasha was in the parking lot. Charles had sent Sasha a photo of Bart and his dossier. He always drove the same green pickup truck with the Oregon plates: 203 SEI.

All the company vehicles had the SEI suffix. The plates on the lumbermill trucks started with the number one; the trucking company started with the number two; and the Cascade Inns started with the number three. Dickie’s plates were 201 SEI; and Oliver’s were 200 SEI. Easy to keep track of, and easy for the local authorities to spot (and ignore) if they were so inclined.

Bart and Kat were on their way in from the lot. “Impressive fleet,” Kat said.

Bart was all puffed up. It was his responsibility to be certain the vehicles were in pristine condition, inside and out.

“I’m ready when you are,” he addressed Isabelle. “We’re giving you the van, if that’s okay. Unless you want to drive a pickup. Just need a copy of your driver’s license.”

Isabelle froze. That was one thing they hadn’t had time to take care of. “I’ll drive my own car, if that’s alright. Mr. Spangler is paying for the rental, so I might as well use it.”

“Okay. But if you want to turn it in for a company vehicle, that’s fine with me.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Isabelle made a mental note to let Myra know she had almost gotten into a bind. Charles or Fergus could get them fake credentials quickly, and she was only an hour away if she needed to get back to Salem in a hurry.

Isabelle followed Bart outside and got into her rental. She waited for Bart to pull around so she could follow him. Several yards down the road, an innocuous-looking vehicle waited for them to pass. A few beats later, Sasha pulled onto the road and began to tail them. Myra sent a text to Isabelle, giving her a description of Sasha’s vehicle. It looked like any other car on the road, except for the driver with the Olympia baseball cap.

* * *

Dickie sat across from Oliver’s desk. Oliver had no words for him. He had no words for anybody. He had nothing. Oliver rested his elbows on his desk and shoved the palms of his hands against his brow-bone. “So you’re telling me that neither one of you could get any information out of that woman in Blaine?”

“No, sir. She claims she isn’t working for anyone but us. Percy went to her first. He was wearing a ski mask. Scared the you-know-what out of her, but she didn’t change her story one bit. Then I went in to see if she might come around. I was wearing a rubber screaming skeleton mask. Thought that might terrify her enough to spill her guts. But same thing. Either she’s telling the truth, or she is one heck of a good liar.”

“I just find it a bit of a coincidence that a new hire should happen to stumble upon our facility. What do you think, Dickie? Some kind of happenstance? Or maybe there’s someone on the inside selling our secret to someone.” He peered at Dickie.

“What? Me? You can’t be serious, Oliver. We all have too much to lose by blabbing, and a lot to gain by remaining silent. Why would I do something like that?” Dickie was truly stunned that his cohort, boss, and sometime friend, would think he’d betray him. “Sorry, Oliver, but you are barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe Bart?” Oliver stared at him.

“Bart? He’s not smart enough to betray anyone.”

“Well, he was stupid enough to pick up a hitchhiker when he was supposed to be making a delivery. And I want to know who left the bleeping door open in Eugene!” Oliver shot out of his chair. “You said it wasn’t the assistant manager? How can you be sure?”

“Because we caught him with his girlfriend in one of the rooms while all this went down. That’s why we let him go. Dereliction of duty. He was supposed to lock the main laundry room door, and only open it if someone needed to get in.”

“Did he know why he was supposed to keep the door locked?”

“To keep people from stealing towels, and to keep people away from cleaning chemicals.” Dickie recited the company line.

“And you’re sure he knows nothing about what was going on?”

“Like I said, he was having a horizontal party, and according to the janitor, it was a regular thing.”

“And the janitor didn’t think to say anything?”

“He didn’t want to rat him out, I guess. He didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Well, it is a big deal. I think to be on the safe side, you need to move the woman from Blaine to your cabin.”

Dickie did a double take. “My cabin?”

“Yes, your cabin. The one you bought with the extra money you’ve been making.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“With that new Isabelle person making her way upstate, we can’t take any more chances. We can’t risk someone finding out what we are up to.”

“Understood.” Dickie got up from his chair so he could be eye-to-eye with Oliver. “You want me to do this today?”

“The sooner, the better.”

“I’ve got a few things scheduled for tomorrow, but I can drive up there later in the afternoon.”

“Okay, but don’t push it any longer. We don’t want our new facilities manager snooping around while that woman is still there.”

“Understood.” Dickie paused. “Who is going to keep an eye on her? I can install a padlock on the basement door of the cabin, but someone is going to have to feed her.”

“You got a bathroom down there?”

“Yes.”

“Windows?”

“No. Just a vent window in the storage area.”

“Go to the grocery store and buy a cooler, ice, and cold cuts. Get enough food for three or four days. She can make her own sandwiches.”

“Geez, I hope she’s not gluten-intolerant.” Dickie tried to pull off a joke, but it landed on the floor. Oliver simply stared at him.

“Now get out and get this done.”

“But what do we do after three or four days?” Dickie wanted to know.

“I haven’t figured that out yet. With the runaway girl and these new people, there’s just a tad more going on than I can manage right now. The main thing is we keep her alive until I can figure out the next move.”

“Maybe put her on a truck and send her to Mexico?” Dickie wasn’t far from where Oliver’s own thoughts were going.

“That will require some assistance. Like I said, I can’t wrap my head around it today. So, if you don’t mind, get busy.”

Oliver turned his back on Dickie. He had to think. Think hard.

* * *

Annie gingerly packed the tumbler and the piece of carpet in a plastic bag. It was just about seven o’clock. The lab in Portland opened at eight. She would be there right on time. “Where are you meeting Danielle for lunch?” she asked Myra as she was about to leave.

“She invited me to her house. Since Milton is going home this afternoon, she wanted to be closer to his house in case anyone needed anything.”

“I should be back in time to drop you off before I meet up with Oliver.”

“The two of you are going car shopping, eh?” Myra grinned. “I’m surprised he’s not going to Milton’s.”

“Oliver said he thought his father would be surrounded by people, and he didn’t want to overwhelm him any further.” She smirked.

“He does have a point.”

“True. But I’m trying to find more reasons not to like him.” Annie laughed.

“I don’t think you’ll have to try too hard.” Myra smiled. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

“Probably eleven-ish.”

“Good. I told Danielle I’d get to her house around noon.”

“And Oliver and I are meeting for lunch around one. Plenty of time to drop you off and get back here. We’re going to some fancy-schmancy restaurant downtown.”

“I’m sure you are.” Myra raised an eyebrow.

“Okay. Gotta bolt. See you in a few.”

“Annie?”

“Yes, Myra?”

“Try not to get a speeding ticket.”

“Moi? Surely you jest. Ta-ta!” With that, Annie swept through the room and out the door. She sped through the parking lot as if it were on fire. Typical Annie.

As soon as she got on the interstate, she cranked up the radio and belted out the tune of “Levitating” along with Dua Lipa. It was the only time Annie could sing without being ridiculed or asked to “Please stop!” Tone-deaf! Ha! Funny the kind of looks you get from people when you’re wailing on the road. Most people smile and nod. Others look at you like you are completely bonkers. Annie didn’t care. She was enjoying the open road with the windows down, and cruising at eighty miles per hour. She was only ten miles over the speed limit, and she wasn’t the only one. In less than an hour, she was pulling into the large medical facility. There was a security guard at the entrance to the parking lot. Charles had said he was going to get her clearance, and like clockwork, he had.

“Good morning.” Annie smiled brightly. “Annie De Silva.”

“Ah, yes, countess. Please pull into the visitor spot near the main door. Someone will come out and accompany you inside.”

“Thank you.” She did as the guard instructed, and another guard was waiting at the door.

“Countess, right this way.” He opened the large doors and asked her to walk through the metal detectors. “Sorry. Regulations.”

Interesting . Annie looked around. It was a high-security lab used by law enforcement and the military.

“This way, please.” She followed the uniformed man down a long hallway. The temperature in the building was chilly.

She shivered a little. “Is it always this cold in here?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Annie figured it was a precaution to maintain the integrity of the materials being tested. They didn’t want even the smallest speck of evidence to be destroyed by a fluctuation in temperature. It was safer to keep all the rooms below sixty-five degrees.

He showed her into a room with a long counter protected by plexiglass. “Someone will be right with you.” He stood at the doorway.

“Thank you.” She smiled. She felt as if she were in a maximum-security prison. If this was one of the places where major criminal evidence was tested, then it made a lot of sense. Notorious criminals would stop at nothing to get their cases thrown out of court.

About a minute later, a professorial-looking man wearing a white coat, latex gloves, a disposable face mask, and eye shield appeared. “Good morning. You must be Anna De Silva?”

“Yes. Thank you for seeing me.”

“I understand you have two items you would like tested?”

“That is correct.”

“What can we do for you?” he asked.

Annie took the carefully wrapped tumbler out of her tote bag first. “This needs to be dusted for prints, and also whatever DNA you can manage to get without degrading the prints.”

“Do you have something you want them matched to?”

Annie pulled out the newspaper. “Any and all prints on this page. Equally important, I need you to check for any toxic substances in the remaining droplets.” Annie slipped the tumbler under the plexiglass screen, followed by the paper. The man used tongs to place the items into separate plastic bags. He typed a few things into a computer and printed the work order.

“Anything else I can do for you?” he asked.

Annie smiled. “Yes. We also need to see if there is anything toxic in this fabric.” She slid the bag with the piece of rug under the partition. “It might match whatever you find in the glass.”

He repeated the same routine and placed the rug in one of his official bags, typed, printed, and attached the work order to the objects and placed all three into a bin.

“How soon do you need this?” he asked.

“The usual.” She smiled. “As soon as possible.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled above his mask, suggesting he, too, was smiling. “It’s going to take at least three days for the entire panel that Mr. Snowden ordered.” Charles and Fergus were always flying under the radar, so they enlisted Avery Snowden’s agency for such things. “Shall we send the results to Mr. Snowden, or do you have another preference? He said the results could be shared with you and Mrs. Rutledge.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, could you copy both me and Mrs. Rutledge on the results?” Annie handed the gentleman her embossed business card:

Countess Anna Ryland De Silva Mobile: 800-555-2754 Email: [email protected]

The gentleman chuckled. She kicked back one of her legs to show off the glittery footwear.

“I’ll get my people on this right away.”

“What do I owe you?”

“There will be a printed invoice waiting for you at one of the windows. You’ll see it on the way out.”

“Thank you so much,” Annie replied with a dazzling smile.

“My pleasure. Enjoy the rest of the day.” He nodded.

The guard accompanied Annie down the hall and stopped in front of another plexiglass window with an opening at the bottom.

“Countess?” the woman asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” Annie said with a congenial expression.

The woman slid the invoice toward Annie. The total was $5,000. Annie didn’t blink an eye. She pulled out her credit card and settled the bill. “Thanks very much. Have a nice day.”

Annie followed the guard to the main entrance, where he saw her to her car. She hit the fob to unlock it, and the guard opened the door for her. “Thanks very much. You are quite the gentleman.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” He nodded and stepped aside.

Annie was relieved this part of the mission was underway. She carefully left the parking lot, waved to the entry guard, and raced back to Salem. On her way, she phoned Myra. “All systems go, here.”

“Great. Eileen is at S.E.I. and will be tailing Dickie when he leaves. She’s already put a tracker on his vehicle just in case.”

“I really appreciate Milton’s license plate system.” Annie chuckled. “Do you know the status of Bart and Isabelle yet?”

“They should be arriving in Eugene shortly, if they haven’t already.”

“Excellent,” Annie replied. “I’ll see you within the hour. I know. I know. Don’t get a speeding ticket. Yes, Mother.”

“Oh, shut it,” Myra joked, and ended the call.

* * *

Isabelle checked her rearview mirror. Sasha was two cars behind. Bart turned on his directional signal and exited the interstate. Isabelle frowned when she saw Sasha go past the exit. Then she remembered Sasha had a GPS tracker on Bart’s vehicle. Isabelle figured Sasha would circle back. Ten minutes later, Isabelle spotted Sasha ahead of her. How in the world did she do that? Since Sasha already knew the destination, she was making sure Bart wasn’t on to her. But from what Isabelle had been told, Bart wouldn’t know if the Goodyear Blimp was hovering over his head. Sasha pulled into the parking lot across the street from the Cascade Inn, where there was a small diner-type restaurant and a liquor store. Isabelle noted the inn’s location was perfect for someone who wanted a hot meal, a soft bed, a private shower, and maybe a six-pack after a long day.

Isabelle could tell the inn had once been a two-story motel, but with the modernization of the windows, siding, and roofing, it could pass for a new structure. It appeared the main office area had been added later and the parking lot had been repaved. It wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but it looked welcoming for road-weary travelers.

Bart parked his truck at the far end of the lot, and Isabelle pulled her car next to his. He gave her a thumbs-up and grinned. He surely didn’t seem like a brute, but you could never tell a book by its cover. He seemed like a bit of a goofball, not a man who would punch a teenage girl. She popped the trunk and took out her overnight bag.

“Follow me,” Bart said in a cheerful voice. As anxious as he was about this whole, big mess, he was relieved he wasn’t standing in front of Oliver or Dickie. They were steaming mad. He knew he’d messed up with the girl, but the other one wasn’t his fault. Not this time. Dickie wanted Bart to help find the missing teen, but he also wanted him to follow Isabelle. He couldn’t be in two places at once. Didn’t Dickie realize that? Bart hoped the teen would show up, and then they could try to get back to business as usual. But then there was the other girl. Woman. Bart dreaded what Dickie might do. Dickie wasn’t a violent man; at least, he’d never showed that side of himself when they were growing up. In fact, Dickie had helped Bart get this job. Bart let out a big sigh. Boy oh boy. What a heap of trouble they were in.

He tried to shrug off his anxiety. For now, he had to show Isabelle around the place and make sure she didn’t go near the laundry room. He didn’t know if he was supposed to spend the night to keep an eye on her, so he called Dickie.

“Hey, boss. We’re in Eugene. What do you want me to do?”

“Show her around. But not everything.” Dickie was at his wit’s end.

“Well, duh, Dickie. I know that much.” Bart didn’t like the way Dickie had been picking on him over the last couple of weeks. Yes, he’d made a mistake. Okay, so he’d made a few. Not securing the bars on the window was probably the first one. “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”

Dickie lowered his voice. “No. I want you to get back here and help me look for that teenager.”

“Got it. I should be back in a couple of hours.”

“Good.” Dickie slammed the phone down on his desk. The two men who’d captured the housekeeper were now on the lookout for the teenager, so the pill-mill was at a standstill, especially with that Isabelle woman hanging around. His phone rang. It was Oliver.

“Are you still in the office?” Oliver asked. He was standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, waiting for Annie.

“Yes. I’m going to go to the grocery store in a bit.”

“What time are you planning on going to Blaine tomorrow?” Oliver smiled at the people passing by. Could they see the steam coming out of his ears?

“I figure around noon.”

“Let me know when you’ve completed the assignment.” Another nod and smile to a couple walking their dog.

“Will do.”

* * *

Annie finished her mission, picked up Myra, and drove her to Benjamin and Danielle’s house. “They should have the lab results in three days.”

“Great. I take it your trip was uneventful.” Myra peered at her.

“Now I know how Maggie feels when everyone gangs up on her.” Annie smirked.

“You’ll get over it. What I meant was, you didn’t run into any obstacles?”

“No. Avery phoned ahead. Good thing. That place was a fortress. Could rival Pinewood, but not quite.” She chuckled.

They pulled into the stone-paved circular driveway of Benjamin Spangler’s home. “Beautiful place,” Annie remarked.

“Do you want to come in and say hello?”

“Not right now. I don’t want to be late for Oliver and our sports car adventure.” Annie raised an eyebrow.

“Please try not to buy anything,” Myra said as she exited the car.

“Party pooper.” Annie tooted the horn.

Danielle opened the front door and waved as Annie pulled away. “Myra. How are you today?”

“I’m just fine, my dear. And you?”

“Better. I am so relieved Mill is going home today. I don’t think Benjamin has slept in the past three days.”

“I can only imagine.” Myra gave Danielle a kiss on the cheek and followed her into the foyer. “Such a lovely home,” Myra remarked.

“Thanks. It’s been a great place to raise the kids. Most of their friends preferred hanging out here, so we could keep a close eye on everyone.” She paused. “Such a shame about that missing girl.”

“I suppose there’s no news.” Myra hid her knowledge very well.

“A very strange thing happened, but we don’t know if it’s connected. A woman found a young girl in the woods several miles from here. She and her husband brought her to the hospital, but she took off before a doctor could take a look at her.”

“That is very odd. Do they think she ran away from the hospital because she didn’t want her parents to find her?”

“The couple said the girl barely said a word. She was cut up and bruised. They managed to get her to the hospital, the same one where Milton was, but she took off. So odd. Her parents must be worried sick.”

“I am sure they are.” Over the years, Myra had become a very good actress, able to conceal vital information and her emotions.

“Come. Let’s go sit on the deck. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a charcuterie and salad.”

“Sounds wonderful. The food at the hotel is quite good, but it’s nice to have a change of taste.” She smiled at her pun.

“Funny,” Danielle said. “How long do you plan on staying?”

“I’m not really sure. Annie is out with Oliver looking at sports cars.”

“Sounds like that will be right up Oliver’s alley.” Danielle popped open a bottle of champagne. “Mimosa? Bellini? Plain?”

“Plain, please. She’s threatening to drive a new sports car cross-country.”

“I really appreciate you both coming out here. Patricia is a complete disaster.”

“It’s understandable. I don’t know what I would do if Charles had a heart attack.” Myra took the champagne glass from Danielle’s hand. “Thank you.”

Danielle looked around, not that there was anyone else there. “Patricia wouldn’t know what to do if she had to cancel her hair appointment.” She paused. “I really shouldn’t say anything about my mother-in-law. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. In-laws can be tricky.” Myra waited for Danielle to offer more gossip. Or facts. Whichever.

“So, how are your children? I haven’t seen them in ages.”

“They’re all doing well. Logan is away at school, and Addie will be going to Pratt. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle the distance.”

“It will be an adjustment for everyone.” Myra clinked Danielle’s glass with hers. “Here’s to bright futures. For everyone.”

“I’ll drink to that. Benjamin looks a fright. I was worried he’d get sick during this ordeal. I mean, his father, the missing teen, and now the young woman in Eugene. It’s been quite a heap of trouble.”

“I understand Benjamin is planning on visiting the young woman’s family this morning. He’s going with Maggie Spritzer, Annie’s top journalist.”

“Yes. I thought I’d hear from him by now. I’d say no news is good news, but not for the Rowans or the Georges. It breaks my heart thinking about what they’re going through.”

“We have to keep the faith, my dear.” Myra began to fidget with her pearls. “Maybe Maggie’s interviews will shed some light and give the public additional information. I heard the young woman’s family was going to call the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

“I don’t blame them. The local police were very slow to move on the case. But if the Bureau gets involved, that could cause a lot of headaches for Benjamin and the family. Who knows what they’ll do? They might blame us for her disappearance.”

“That would be dreadful.” Myra decided to call her friend Ellie. If she could talk to the marshal, she might be able to get some advice from him.

“Let’s talk about happier things, shall we?” Danielle downed her glass of champagne and poured another. “I know I probably should slow down, but the past few days have been a nightmare.”

“What about Oliver? He surely must have been helping Benjamin.”

Danielle almost spit out her drink. “Oliver? Helpful? He only helps himself. And if you ask me, I think he’s been helping himself to the petty cash drawer.” She placed her fingers on her lips. “Oh, my. I’ve said too much. See, this is what happens after one glass of champagne.” Myra was hoping Danielle might finish her second so she would blather on. “Don’t get me wrong. Oliver has always been good to the kids. But lately, well, I just don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Myra placed her hand on top of Danielle’s. She could tell there was something eating at the younger woman.

“He’s been very edgy. Flying off the handle sometimes.”

Myra listened intently as Danielle went on about all the high-ticket items Oliver had purchased. “I don’t know what he’s invested in, but I know what his salary is and, well, it’s none of my business, really.”

“But it is Benjamin and Milton’s business,” Myra reminded her.

“I suppose you’re right, but aside from marketing, I have had very little to do with the operation of the company, and Benjamin tries very hard to keep business dealings separate from family. When he’s home, he’s totally focused on us, the house, his parents.” She took another sip of her champagne. “But these past few days . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Myra wanted to change the subject. Danielle was becoming a little sloshed. She looked at the beautiful spread of food in front of them. “This looks lovely, and I’m a bit peckish. Shall we try some of these delectable delights?”

“Oh, of course. My apologies. I’m a terrible hostess.”

“Not at all,” Myra encouraged her.

“It’s just that I don’t usually have anyone to talk to, except for at charity events. Of course, there’s Benjamin, but I really don’t want to get between him and Oliver.” She shook off her mood. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with family gossip.”

“No burden. And I totally understand. It’s not always easy to keep business and personal life separate.” Myra noticed Danielle’s eyes were watering up. “Are you alright?”

Danielle dabbed her eyes. “Yes. Thank you. I’m glad you and I decided to have lunch. Just the two of us.”

“Sometimes it’s good to have an impartial ear. Helps keep things in perspective.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”