would have gone off, even temporarily, and left all her loot behind where Jake could reclaim it.
While we were searching, the sheriff turned up at Jake's house. It was rather unsettling; the sheriff was a cousin, and dropped by quite a lot, but usually his conversations with Mother revolved around family gossip, not police procedures.
'We're going to list her as officially missing first thing in the morning,' he announced.
'Anything could happen between now and then,' Jake said.
'Frankly, I decided not to wait to start checking around,' the sheriff assured him. 'She's not in any of the local hospitals or morgues, and there are no Jane Does remotely fitting her description. She can't have taken a plane or train or bus; none of them have a credit card transaction in her name and these days the ticket agents tend to remember anyone who pays in cash. I got in touch with the police department down in Fort Lauderdale, and they'll let me know if she shows up at home. We could try to get some dogs in here to try to track her in case she's ... wandered off and lying ill someplace.'
'I'd appreciate that,' Jake said. 'I only hope I'm not putting you to all this trouble for nothing. I mean, I'd feel terrible if she just showed up tomorrow and we find out that she forgot to tell me she was going to visit some friend who lives down here. It just has to be some kind of silly mix-up like that, doesn't it?'
He looked hopefully up at the sheriff. 'That's very probable, Mr. Wendell, but I'd feel terrible if we didn't do everything we could to make sure she's all right,' the sheriff replied in the earnest tones he usually reserves for the election season. 'If you hear from her, you let us know straight away, you hear? And we'll call you the minute we find out something.'
I spent most of the rest of the day trying to do a few wedding-related chores in between fielding phone calls about Mrs. Grover, helping coordinate the search for Mrs. Grover, and reassuring an increasingly anxious Jake that I was sure nothing serious had happened to Mrs. Grover.
'I certainly hope she really is all right,' I told Dad as we sat on the porch after dinner. 'She's totally wrecked my week's schedule and probably taken ten years off Jake's life, the way he's worrying, but I will feel guilty about resenting it all until I know she's all right.'
'Yes,' he said. 'I feel mildly guilty for all the little pranks I was planning to play on her.'
'Let's resolve to be especially nice to her when she shows up again,' I said.
'Agreed,' said Dad. 'No more little pranks.'
Thursday, June 2
I woke up early, couldn't get back to sleep for wondering if anyone had heard from Mrs. Grover, and finally gave up and came down for breakfast.
'Any news of Mrs. Grover?' I asked.
'No, but Eileen called,' Mother said.
'Make my day; tell me she's coming home to pick out a dress.'
'No, she and Steven are staying over at Cape May,' Mother said. 'Such a nice place for a honeymoon.'
'Yes, but they're not honeymooning yet. Or ever will be, if she doesn't get down here to pick out a dress.'
'There's still time, dear. Why don't you fix us a nice omelet?'
We heard a knock and saw Michael's face at the back door.
'Have you seen Spike?' he asked, slightly breathless. 'You know, Mom's dog?'
'No,' I said. 'Damn, we don't need any more disappearances.'
'If you see him running around loose, just give him a wide berth and call me,' Michael said. 'He's not really vicious, just terminally irritable.'
'You might try going down to the beach,' I said, following him out. 'Dogs always seem to like that. Lots of smelly seaweed and dead fish to wallow in.'
'Your nephew and your father suggested that,' he said. 'Searching the beach for Spike, that is, not wallowing there. They went down to look.'
'Or wallow, knowing Dad and Eric.' Just then we saw Eric running toward us.
'Maybe you're in luck,' I said.
'Meg!' Eric called, running up to us. 'We found something down on the beach! I think it's a dead animal. Grandpa's down looking at it!' He ran over to the edge of the bluff and teetered there, pointing down.
'Stay away from the edge!' I shouted, grabbing for him. 'You know it's not safe. It could cave in.'
'Come see, Meg!' Eric pleaded.
'We'd better go,' I told Michael. 'We may have to carry Dad up the ladder.'
'Ladder?' Michael said.
'It's a shortcut down to the beach,' I explained over my shoulder as Eric tugged me along by the hand to the next-door neighbors' yard. 'Most people go down to the Donleavys' house. They have an easy path down to the beach. But Dad likes to go down this rather precarious series of ladders our neighbor built straight down the side of the bluff to his dock.
'Dad!' I called as we reached the top of the ladder. 'Do you need us for anything?'
'You keep the kids back, Meg,' Dad called up.
'There's only Eric.'
'Just keep him back, you hear?' Dad repeated, sounding anxious.
'Go on back to the house and see if your grandmother has the cookies ready,' I told Eric, who trotted off eagerly.
'Is she baking cookies?' Michael asked, with interest.
'Mother? It's extremely unlikely. But by the time she convinces Eric of that, he'll have forgotten all about whatever it is Dad doesn't want him to see. It's very odd; I wonder why he's so worried about keeping the grandkids away.'
'Surely he wouldn't want them to see a dead animal.'
'I don't see why not. He was always dragging Pam and Rob and me to see dead animals and using them for little impromptu biology lessons. He does it all the time with the grandkids. Unless it's one of their animals, of course; even Dad has more sense than to do that. Oh, I hope it's not Duck; he wasn't following Eric.'
'Or Spike,' Michael said. 'Mom would have a fit.'
'Meg,' Dad shouted up. 'Who else is that with you?'
'Michael,' I shouted back. 'We sent Eric back to the house.'
'Good!' said Dad. 'Michael, would you mind climbing down here for a minute?' Michael shrugged and started down the ladder. A little too quickly.
'Take it slow!' I said. 'That's an old ladder; there are a few rungs missing, and a few more will be very soon if you aren't careful.'
'Right,' he said, and continued at an excessively cautious pace. I stood at the top of the ladder peering down, rather idiotically, since the bushes were too thick for me to see anything. I could hear Dad and Michael talking in hushed tones.
'Meg,' Dad called up. 'We've found Mrs. Grover. Go call the sheriff.'
'The sheriff,' I repeated. 'Right. And an ambulance?'
'Yes, not that they need to rush or anything,' Michael said.
'And tell him to come prepared,' Dad added. 'There are some rather suspicious circumstances.'
'Oh, dear,' Mother said, after eavesdropping shamelessly on my conversation with the sheriff. 'Poor Mrs. Grover. And here we all were so irritated because we thought she'd disappeared on purpose to annoy us. I suppose it should be a lesson to us.'
I felt rather guilty about the uncharitable thoughts I'd had about Mrs. Grover--now, presumably, the late Mrs. Grover. But while I felt very sorry indeed for her, I couldn't help thinking that if she was going to die under suspicious circumstances, she couldn't have picked a better place to do it.
Of course, having met her, I felt sure that she'd have made every effort to die elsewhere if she'd had any idea of the deep personal and professional satisfaction a mystery buff like Dad would feel at the prospect of helping investigate her death.
