Four to Score

'So what's new?' I asked Sally. 'You have plans for the day?'

'I'm moving. Got a new place to live. Ran into some friends last night who were looking to replace a roommate. They've got a house in Yardley.'

'Dang,' Grandma said. 'I'm going to miss seeing you sitting there in that pink bathrobe.'

I puttered around until Sally was out of the house. Then I took a shower and straightened my room. I didn't like that I'd lost Mrs. Nowicki. All because I hadn't told Morelli the whole story soon enough. 'Damn!' I yelled out. Now all I needed was for Joyce Barnhardt to haul Maxine in. 'Shit.'

My mother knocked on my bedroom door. 'Are you all right in there?'

I opened the door. 'No, I'm not all right. I'm bummed! I've screwed this case up, and now I have to worry about Joyce Barnhardt making my apprehension.'

My mother gave a sharp inhale. 'Joyce Barnhardt! Joyce Barnhardt couldn't carry your water pail! You're better than Joyce Barnhardt!'

'You think so?'

'Just go fix whatever it is you botched. I'm sure it isn't that bad. This woman you're after has to be out there somewhere. People don't just disappear.'

'It isn't that easy. I've lost all my leads.' With the exception of Bernie the horny drug dealer, who I wasn't crazy about seeing again.

'Do you know that for sure?'

Actually, no.

'You're right,' I said. 'It wouldn't hurt to check a few things out.' I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed for the stairs.

'Will you be home for supper?' my mother asked. 'We're having fried chicken and biscuits and strawberry shortcake.'

'I'll be home.'

My enthusiasm did another dip when I saw the Buick waiting for me. It was hard to be Wonder Woman in the Buick. It would be much easier to be Wonder Woman on a Duc, for instance.

I crawled onto the big bench seat and peered over the steering wheel at the powder-blue hood stretching endlessly in front of me. I turned the key and accelerated. Bzzzzzzzup, the car sucked gas and rolled up the street.

Morelli had covered Mrs. Nowicki's house, but he hadn't gone to see Margie. There was a slim chance that Mrs. Nowicki might be with Margie.

I didn't feel encouraged when I pulled up at Margie's house. Her car wasn't there, and neither was Mrs. Nowicki's. I went to the door and found it locked. No one answered my knock. I tiptoed around and looked in windows and saw no sign of life. No breakfast dishes left on the kitchen counter. No socks left lying on the floor. No cat curled in an armchair. The neighbor didn't pop out. Maybe she was used to me snooping.

I crossed the lawn and rapped on the neighbor's door.

She looked puzzled at first, then she placed me. 'You're Margie's friend!' she said.

'Yes, and I'm still looking for Margie.'

'You just missed her. She was home for a day, and now she's gone again.'

'Do you know where she went?'

'I didn't ask. I just assumed it was back to the shore.'

'Well, thanks,' I said. 'I'll catch up with her one of these times.'

I went back to the car and sat there berating myself for a few minutes. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' I said.

I was on the road, so I thought, What the hell, I'll make a lastditch effort and double-check on Maxine's mother. No stone unturned.

I didn't see a car in front of her house, either, but I parked and went to her door. I knocked, and the door swung open. 'Hello?' I called. No answer. I went room to room and was relieved not to find anyone dead, or scalped, or hacked into little pieces.

Maxine's mother hadn't lived well. The double bed mattress sagged miserably in the middle. The sheets were threadbare. A faded chenille spread served as blanket and bedspread. Both were littered with burns from cigarettes. The furniture was old and scarred, beyond polish. Rugs were soiled. Sinks were stained and chipped. The kitchen wastebasket was filled with booze bottles. And the house reeked from stale smoke and mildew.

There were no scribbled notes indicating travel plans. No magazine pages dog-eared to cruise advertisements. No fake twenties carelessly discarded. Mrs. Nowicki was gone and didn't expect to be back. I thought the open door was a blatant message. Let the wipe-ass scavengers pick this shit over, the door said. I'm movin' on.

I went back to the Buick and tried to piece things together, but I didn't have nearly enough information. What I knew was that Margie, Maxine's mother and Maxine were sticking together. I knew that Francine Nowicki had a bunch of bad twenties. I suspected that Eddie Kuntz wanted Maxine for more than love letters. And I knew someone wanted information on Maxine bad enough to kill for it.

I thought the most confusing element in all of this was the disappearance of Eddie Kuntz. He'd been missing for four days. I thought he'd have floated in on the tide by now.

I've checked on Margie and Maxine, I thought. I should check on Eddie Kuntz, too. Trouble was, I hated to tangle with Betty and Leo again. It was getting unpleasant. Of course, I could just ride by. Stopping could be optional.