“Yes, I moved in on Friday.”
“Actually I didn’t see you move in,” she said, quick to make the distinction. “I mean at Rachel’s. I saw you at Rachel Endicott’s house.” The woman stepped closer and kept her voice soft and calm even though her hands were now gripping the hem of her cardigan.
“Oh.”
“I’m a friend of Rachel’s. I know that the police…” She stopped and glanced this time in both directions. “I know they’re saying Rachel may have just left on her own, but I don’t think she would do that.”
“Did you tell Detective Manx that?”
“Detective Manx?”
“He’s in charge of the investigation, Ms. Lyndell. I was simply there trying to lend a hand as a concerned neighbor.”
“But you’re with the FBI, right? I thought I heard someone say that.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t there in an official capacity. If you have any information, I suggest you talk to Detective Manx.”
All Maggie needed was to step on Manx’s toes again. Cunningham had already questioned her competency, her judgment. She wouldn’t let some prick like Manx make matters worse. However, Susan Lyndell didn’t seem pleased with Maggie’s advice. Instead, she stalled, fidgeting, her eyes darting around while she seemed to become more and more agitated.
“I know this is an awkward introduction, and I certainly apologize, but if I could just talk to you for a few minutes. May I come in?”
Her gut told her to send Susan Lyndell home, to insist she call the police and talk to Manx. Yet, for some reason she found herself letting the woman into her foyer, but no farther.
“I have a flight to catch later this afternoon,” Maggie allowed impatience to show in her voice. “As you can see I haven’t had time to unpack, let alone pack for a business trip.”
“Yes, I understand. It’s quite possible I’m simply being paranoid.”
“You don’t believe Ms. Endicott just left town for a couple of days? Maybe to get away?
Susan Lyndell’s eyes met Maggie’s and held her.
“I know there was something…something in the house that suggests Rachel didn’t do that.”
“Ms. Lyndell, I don’t know what you’ve heard—”
“It’s okay.” She stopped Maggie with a wave of a small hand, long slender fingers that reminded Maggie of a bird’s wing. “I know you can’t divulge anything you may have seen.” She fidgeted again, shifting her weight from one foot to another as though her high-heeled pumps were the cause of her discomfort. “Look, I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that it’s not routine for three police cruisers and the county medical examiner to come rescue an injured dog. Even if it belongs to the wife of Sidney Endicott.”
Maggie didn’t recognize the man’s name nor did she care. The less she knew about the Endicotts, the easier it would be to keep out of this case. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Susan Lyndell seemed to interpret it as having Maggie’s full attention.
“I think Rachel was meeting someone. I think this someone may have taken her against her will.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Rachel met a man last week.”
“What do you mean she met a man?”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. It’s not something she’s in the habit of doing.” She said this quickly, as if needing to justify her friend’s actions. “It just sort of happened. You know how that is.” She waited for some sign of agreement from Maggie. When there was none, she hurried on. “Rachel said there was this…well, she described the guy as wild and exciting. It was strictly a physical attraction. I’m sure she had no intention of ever leaving Sidney,” she added as though needing to convince herself.
“Ms. Endicott was having an affair?”
“Oh God, no, but I think she was tempted. As far as I know, it was just some heavy-duty flirting.”
“How do you know all this?”
Susan avoided Maggie’s eyes, pretending to watch outside the window.
“Rachel and I were friends.”
Maggie didn’t point out that Susan had suddenly switched to past tense. “How did she meet him?” she asked, instead.
“He’s been working in the area for the last week or so. On the phone lines. Something to do with new cable that’s going to be laid. I haven’t heard much about it. It seems like they’re constantly putting in something new and different in this area.”
“Why do think this man may have taken Rachel against her will?”
“It sounded like he was getting serious, trying to escalate their flirting. You know how guys like that can be. They really just want one thing. And for some reason they always seem to think us lonely, rich wives are more than ready to let them—” She stopped herself, realizing she may have revealed more than she intended. Immediately, she looked away, her face a bit flushed, and Maggie knew Susan Lyndell was no longer talking about her friend, but speaking from experience. “Well, let’s just say,” she continued, “that I have a hunch this guy wanted more from Rachel than she meant to give him.”
The image of the bedroom came to Maggie. Had Rachel Endicott invited a telephone repairman to her bedroom and then changed her mind?
“So you think she may have invited him in and that things got carried away?”
“Isn’t there something in the house that makes it look that way?”
Maggie hesitated. Were Susan Lyndell and Rachel Endicott really friends, or was Susan simply looking for some juicy gossip to share with the other neighbors?
Finally Maggie said, “Yes, there is something that makes it look like Rachel was taken from the house. That’s all I can tell you.”
Susan paled beneath the carefully applied makeup and leaned against the wall as though needing the support. This time, her response seemed genuine.
“I think you need to tell the police,” Maggie told her again.
“No,” she said quickly, and immediately her face grew scarlet. “I mean, I…I’m not even sure she met him. I wouldn’t want Rachel to get in trouble with Sid.”
“Then you need to at least tell them about the telephone repairman so they can question him. Have you seen him in the area?”
“Actually, I’ve never seen him. Just his van once—Northeastern Bell Telephone Company. I’d hate to have him lose his job because of my hunch.”
Maggie studied the woman who clutched and wrung the hem of her cardigan. Susan Lyndell didn’t care about some nameless repairman’s job.
“Then why are you telling me all this, Ms. Lyndell? What do you expect me to do?”
“I just thought…well…” She leaned against the wall again, and seemed flustered that she had no clue what she expected. Yet, she made a weak effort to continue. “You’re with the FBI. I thought maybe you could find out or do a check…you know, discreetly without…well, I guess I don’t know.”
Maggie let the silence hang between them as she examined the woman’s discomfort, her embarrassment.
“Rachel’s not the only one who’s flirted with a repairman, is she, Ms. Lyndell? Are you afraid of your husband finding out? Is that it?”
She didn’t need to answer. The anguished look in Susan Lyn-dell’s eyes told Maggie she was right. And she wondered if Ms. Lyndell would even call Detective Manx, though she promised to as she turned and left, hurrying away, her head pivoting with worried glances.
CHAPTER 14
Tess McGowan smiled at the wine steward who waited patiently. Daniel had rambled on into the cellular
