Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Rebecca blows over the top of the steaming espresso and gazes across the bay. The view is astounding and I have to tear my eyes away to listen more closely. "Mom was being Mom. She needed a getaway at our resort and insisted I come with her. We had dinner and went to her room where a bottle of chilled champagne was waiting. She moped during dinner, and I had the feeling she wanted to tell me something. We sat on the veranda and drank the entire bottle." A look passes between the sisters. "I asked what was bothering her, and she said she just wanted to have a pleasant evening and we would talk about it in the morning. We agreed to meet for breakfast and go for a walk. I got up early but she hadn't come down, so I went out to watch the sunrise. I knew she would be along when she woke up. I fell asleep and it was noon before one of the resort staff woke me and said I had a note at the front desk."

Rebecca puts a scribbled note on the table. Three words.

you promised dinky

The writing was either from a five-year-old or deliberately made-up. The sisters exchange another look, and Ronnie uses a napkin to pick it up for closer examination.

I ask, "Who's Dinky?" They shake their heads and once again I see the close resemblance. Not just in appearance but in the way they move and their facial expressions.

Rebecca says, "Roger showed it to me around noon on Saturday. Roger's the manager at Semiahmoo Resort. The note was found outside Mom's door. It wasn't there when I left her the night before but I couldn't swear it was or wasn't there when I went down to sunbathe. I went down the stairs at the far end of the hall and wouldn't have passed by Mom's room. We were supposed to be staying until Monday."

"Who found the note?"

"The night manager, I think. The general manager, Roger, was on the front desk when I came in to get the message."

"Did you talk to the night manager, sis?" Ronnie asks.

"The night manager was already gone but Roger said he hadn't seen Mom come down for breakfast, and when he didn't see her around lunchtime, he remembered the note and thought it might be important. I went to her room, checked the café and then out on the deck to see if we had just passed each other. She hadn't left a message for me so I went back to the room to see if she had left a note there. She hadn't. She couldn't have left on her own because we were in my car."

Your mom could have gotten a ride, or called a Lyft . I ask, "What did you do then?"

"I tried calling her phone and left voicemails. I finally called my dad to see if she was home. He thought she was with me."

"Did you call the police?"

"Dad said not to panic. He was sure she would show up and would be embarrassed if the police were looking for her."

Ronnie says, "But you called them anyway."

Rebecca nods. "They said they couldn't do anything for forty-eight hours. I stayed at the resort overnight Saturday, and when she still hadn't made contact, I called the police again and demanded an officer come to the resort and take a report. They said they could send an officer but he couldn't put her in the system until the forty-eight hours were up. I tried to reach the Sheriff here but it was a weekend and I got a deputy who gave me the same bullshit line. Police policy. She wasn't in jail or in the hospital. There was nothing. It's not like our mom to go away like this. She would have told me where she was going. She's never spent more than a few nights away, and those were with one of her committee groups. And that's why I called you."

Ronnie says, "You said Mom wanted to tell you something. Are you leaving Dad's firm? Was she upset about something? Remember when she faked an injury to get me to come home from the police academy?"

"What did you expect her to do? You wouldn't listen to reason. She thought it would make you see how important family is. Her heart's in the right place, sis. She only wants what's best for you. For us. But I see what you're hinting at. The answer is no, there's nothing going on. She's not faking this or I wouldn't have worried you."

"Mom always wants what's best for Mom. She wants to control our lives. Just like dear old Dad."

Rebecca gives Ronnie a stern look. "Don't be disrespectful. You're where you are today because of them."

"Point taken. But Dad hasn't changed, Rebecca. Did he come to the resort and help look for her? Or did he try to talk you out of doing something that might cause him embarrassment? That's how he is. That's why I left. I wanted my own life. Not his. Not Mom's. Not yours."

"And so you just take off. Leave me to deal with Dad and the fallout. I'm your older sister, not your caretaker, Ronnie."

"Rebecca the martyr. You could have left. You have a good job. You don't need to work here anymore. You could be happy like me. You can do something for yourself for once."

"How can you even say that? Someone had to stay and take care of them. To hold this family together. Our parents deserve one of us they can be proud…" She bites her words off and covers her mouth.

Ronnie's face gets hot. "They're not proud of me?"

I put a hand on Ronnie's arm and hold my other up like a referee, but I want to hit the mute button on Rebecca. "Time out, kids. Let's cool things down so you can tell me what I'm doing here." They turn away from each other. I say, "And don't forget I'm carrying a gun."

Rebecca says, "I'm sorry, Ronnie. I didn't mean it. I'm just upset."

"Me too. Let's just find her."

What have I gotten into? "Ronnie said there has been no activity on the bank or credit cards? Is that right, Rebecca?"

"Nothing. That's not like Mom. She loves to spend money."

"Boy does she," Ronnie adds.

I think for a minute about next steps. "I guess checking her room at the resort for clues again isn't possible?"

Rebecca brightens. "I've insisted Roger keep her room closed in case you needed to look at it. So far the police haven't shown any interest."

Ronnie says, "Way to go, sis. I'll make a detective of you yet."

"No, thanks. But we do need to talk when this is settled."

A loud gong startles me, and Rebecca gets up. "I'll get it." She leaves the room.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Someone is at the gate," Ronnie says. "Dad has a state-of-the-art security system."

Ronnie turns on a small plasma screen fixed to the bottom of one kitchen cabinet. A clear picture of a black SUV with dark tinted windows is coming through the gate. "That's not Dad's car."