Pulling up the steep driveway with its tricky turnaround, Ali was reminded of Arabella’s place. This house was comparable to the Ashcroft’s in size and elevation but the view from that one was three hundred and sixty degrees. This one, built into the hillside, was only one-eighty and looked off to the east.
When Ali stopped the car, Crystal reached for the door handle. “Are you coming in?” she asked.
“Not right now,” Ali said. “Please tell your dad what’s going on. He’s a good man, Crystal, and he needs to know. Let him help you.”
Crystal nodded. “Okay,” she said.
Dave must have heard them drive up. The door to his downstairs apartment swung open and he came striding through it, walking with a cell phone pressed to his ear. As Crystal exited the car, Ali saw a storm of warring expressions distort Dave’s handsome face. He was at once furious and grateful; angry and concerned. As he hurried forward to gather his daughter into his arms, gratitude won the day.
“Thank you,” he mouthed silently to Ali over the top of Crystal’s head.
Ali nodded.
“Will you come in?” he asked aloud.
“No, thanks,” Ali said. “I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about. I’d just be in the way. I’ll leave you to it.”
CHAPTER 7
Having had her whole day blown out of the water, Ali was eager to get back home. She had yet to make any of the cancer treatment calls she’d promised to make on Velma’s behalf, and she had yet to touch Arabella Ashcroft’s diary.
With Crystal safely in her father’s keeping, a relieved Ali turned around and drove back down the mountain. It was early afternoon and almost time for the Sugarloaf to close for the day. Still as she started to drive past the restaurant, she was surprised to see several more vehicles in the parking lot than should have been there at that time of day, including a City of Sedona police car. Knowing that there was little love lost between her father and the local constabulary, Ali made a U-turn and then went back to the parking lot, where she pulled in beside the patrol car.
The CLOSED sign was in the window, but the door was unlocked. Ali let herself inside. Her father was seated in the corner booth along with two uniformed City of Sedona police officers. One of the officers was new to Ali. The other one, Kenny Harmon, she did know. As a rookie patrol officer, Kenny had given Bob Larson his one and only speeding ticket-for doing forty in a thirty-five. Kenny’s presence accounted in large measure for the thunderous look on Ali’s father’s face. The fourth person in the booth was a woman. Her back was turned to Ali, but she seemed to be doing most of the talking.
“We’re closed,” Edie Larson called from the kitchen when the bell over the door announced Ali’s entrance. Edie appeared in the swinging door, wielding a mop. “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”
“What’s going on?”
Edie jerked her head in the direction of the only occupied booth. “That’s Sandy-Sandy Mitchell. She’s one of the clerks over at Basha’s. She’s also Kip Hogan’s girlfriend. Your dad’s helping her file a missing persons report.”
Ali did know Sandy. She had been a grocery clerk at Basha’s for years. The idea that she was involved with Kip-the idea that anyone was involved with Kip-was news to Ali. No wonder he’d gone to the trouble of having his teeth fixed.
“Kip was supposed to see her last night, only he didn’t show up. She came by here after work today looking for him. That’s when your father finally decided maybe it was time to call the cops. There’s still a little coffee left. Want some?”
“Coffee would be great,” Ali said, accepting her mother’s offer and grabbing a seat at the counter.
“Have you had lunch?”
Ali shook her head. “I thought you were closed.”
“We don’t have to be open for me to make you a sandwich. Tuna? And I’ve got a container of stew for you to take home for dinner.”
Ali nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “A sandwich would be very nice, and Chris adores your stew.”
Edie rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I made it?” she asked.
Seated at the counter in the almost deserted restaurant, it was easy for Ali to hear everything being said at the corner booth.
“So that’s the last time you saw him,” Kenny was saying. “When he came by the store late yesterday morning to give you some flowers.”
Sandy nodded tearfully. “It was our two-month anniversary,” she said.
“Did he mention anything about what his plans for the day might be? Did he mention where he was going or what he was going to do?”
“He said he needed to deliver some furniture. Then he was going up to the Rim, but he didn’t have to say so,” Sandy added. “He always goes up there on Tuesday afternoons. I was upset about what had happened with those kids earlier. He offered to put the trip off until today, but I told him he should go ahead. People were counting on him. I told him I’d be fine. I needed him to go so I could write up the incident report.”
“What incident report?” Ali asked her mother.
“There were some college kids up for the day who came into Basha’s yesterday expecting to buy booze. They came through Sandy’s register and were all bent out of shape when she carded them and wouldn’t let them buy,” Edie explained. “They were still at the store and giving Sandy grief about it when Kip showed up and shut them down. Kip can be pretty intimidating on occasion.”
Ali regarded that as a bit of an understatement. Even with new teeth and carrying a bouquet of flowers, Kip Hogan would have been scary as hell.
“We usually meet up at an AA meeting on Tuesday evenings,” Sandy was saying. “That’s where we met- Alcoholics Anonymous. He wasn’t there, though, and he didn’t come by later, either. I worried about it some overnight, but this morning, at work, when I heard about Mr. Larson’s Bronco being found, that really scared me. Kip knows how much Mr. Larson loves that car. He’d never do anything to jeopardize it, especially not considering the way the Larsons have treated him. He told me once they were more like family than his own family.”
“So Mr. Hogan does have family then?” the cop asked.
“I guess,” Sandy answered.
“Any idea where we might find those family members?”
Sandy shook her head. “He never said.”
Kenny, pen in hand, turned to Ali’s father. “Did Mr. Hogan ever mention to you where he was from?”
“No,” Bob answered. “Not to me, anyway.”
“You think he had something to hide?”
“If we live long enough, we all have something to hide,” Bob Larson said.
Ali could tell from her father’s tone of voice that Bob was fast running out of patience.
“Where was his driver’s license from?” Kenny asked.
Bob glanced guiltily at his wife before he answered. “He told me he had a driver’s license,” Bob said. “I guess I never actually saw it.”
“You just took his word for it?”
Bob looked pained. “I had hurt my leg,” he said. “I needed someone who could drive for me.”
“Good lord!” Edie muttered under her breath, taking a seat next to her daughter. “There’s no fool like an old fool.”
“So you don’t even know what state it would have been from or whether or not it had been suspended.”
Bob shook his head.
The other cop seemed content to let that one go. “Forget it, Kenny. You told us he doesn’t have a cell phone, Mr. Larson. Is there a chance that he might have made any long-distance calls that showed up on your bill-calls that
