“You too, Larry.”
Before Rosa could ponder the significance of this chance meeting, or even determine if anything, indeed, was significant, Marjorie wheeled back over to Rosa.
Rosa’s eyebrows jumped in a teasing manner as she tilted her head toward Henry Van Peridon’s car. “New fella?”
“Oh, Henry?” Marjorie risked a glance over her shoulder at Henry who hadn’t stopped staring at her.
“Ah, I dunno. He’s got a nice car and a lot of dough. I know he’s shorter than me, but he’s decent-looking, doncha think? Works at the Aeronautical Research Center, which means he must be a smart cookie too. I suppose I could do worse.”
Rosa supposed that she could. “You were telling me about the tilt-a-whirl ride.”
Marjorie blinked like she couldn’t understand why Rosa wanted to keep talking about that. “Yeah, the lineup didn’t end up being too bad. We were clowning around with Gary, the carnie in charge. Time flew by.”
So not only could each of the three friends vouch for each other, Gary the carnie should be able to as well. Rosa would have to pass this new information on to Miguel.
So much for being a girl on holiday!
Rosa tried the same tactic with Marjorie as she’d used with Gloria. “What happened with Victor was terrible, wasn’t it?”
Marjorie let out a chuckle that Rosa found chilling. “I think there are some people in Santa Bonita that would consider Victor Boyd’s accident as an act of fate. As you know, he wasn’t exactly frat.”
“What?”
“Frat. He wasn’t popular. Nobody liked him.”
Marjorie pulled away, but Rosa held her arm. “Who in Santa Bonita do you think would want him dead?”
Marjorie’s face went through a myriad of expressions as she considered this question. Finally, she came up with, “Gloria’s my friend, but I think you should ask her that question.”
Rosa blinked back her surprise.
“If she didn’t hate Victor Boyd more than anyone in this town, I don’t know who did.” Marjorie skated away to take her next order, leaving Rosa feeling suddenly chilled.
13
According to the folded map in the glove compartment, Sunnyside Avenue was only a few blocks away. Rosa thought it unlikely that she’d catch Don home from work so early in the afternoon, but Joyce might be around, and Rosa wanted to speak with her alone anyway.
The Welks lived in a middle-unit town house in an area of town that supported those in a lower income bracket, which Rosa found perplexing, since, if memory served her, Joyce’s family were rather well-to-do.
Rosa’s timing was perfect, as she pulled up to the curb just as Joyce was leaving her home. Dressed in a summer dress with a full skirt, plain pumps, and a silk patterned head scarf tied under her chin, Joyce started down the sidewalk. Her square purse hung by short straps over one forearm, and her hands were covered by cute white gloves that ended at her wrists.
Stepping out of the Bel Air, Rosa called out, “Joyce!”
Joyce turned at the sound of her name, and cupped a gloved hand over her eyes. “Rosa?”
“Yes, hi. I was in the neighborhood, and thought I recognized you.”
Joyce’s eye narrowed. “What were you doing in this neighborhood?” Joyce’s gaze landed on the Bel Air, quite easily the most expensive vehicle on the street.
Rosa caught up to Joyce and offered a friendly smile. “Actually, I was looking for you.”
“I have an appointment. You can walk to the bus stop with me if you like.”
“Or I could drive you,” Rosa offered.
“Oh. Okay, that would be nice. I am feeling rather tired.”
Joyce relayed the address and short directions as they each opened one of the heavy doors of the Bel Air and slid onto the striped white and yellow leather seats. Joyce ran a finger along the chrome trim of the yellow dash. “Neat chariot!”
Rosa started the engine and pulled out into the wide street. “Thank you. It belongs to my aunt.”
“Yeah, you Forresters really suffer.”
Rosa ignored the jibe. “How’s your family, Joyce?”
“I wouldn’t know. They cut me off when I married Don.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because he’s poor,” Joyce replied, as if the answer were obvious. “He works at a grocery store. My old man wouldn’t even consider him worthy of joining the Kilbourne family unless he owned the store. Actually, unless he owned a chain of stores.”
Joyce glanced at Rosa with eyes that burned with emotion. “I don’t care about money! It doesn’t make people happy, I saw that firsthand.”
“You must really love Don,” Rosa said. She remembered visiting Joyce at the Kilbourne home, a grand house not far from the Forrester mansion.
“I do,” Joyce said emphatically. “With all my heart. I don’t care that he’s poor or tall. My dad had a problem with that too. I think Don’s handsome, and funny and kind.”
Rosa’s only impression of Don Welks was what she’d seen of him on the dance floor at the fair, where he seemed very taken with his wife, and then an opposing picture of him fighting with Victor.
“Does Don still work at the grocery store?”
Joyce nodded. “Ralph’s on main.”
“Were Don and Victor friends?”
“What?” Joyce stared at Rosa as if she were crazy. “He had nothing to do with that nosebleed.”
Rosa knew that wasn’t true. “So as far as you know, Don had no reason to be upset with Victor Boyd.”
“No! I hadn’t thought about Victor for ages until Marjorie spotted him at the boardwalk. I don’t even think Don knew Victor. What’s with all the questions?”
Should Rosa come clean about what she’d seen with Joyce? Her instincts told her to hold on to the information.
“Nothing, I just wondered.”
Her comment synchronized with their arrival and Joyce pointed to a commercial building. A list of doctors’ names was embossed on the door.
Joyce tilted her head, her eyes twinkling in conspiracy. “I think I’m expecting.”
“Oh,” Rosa said. “Congratulations.”
A smile crossed Joyce’s face.
