“—between your daughter’s murder and the murder of her cousin thirty-five years ago.”
“Jennifer. Yes. We’ve had many shocks in this week. I’ve tried to send word to her mother of our… our sympathy and regret. She hasn’t a phone, so it has been difficult, but we managed to reach her yesterday. She will be coming here for Elaine’s funeral on Monday.”
There was a brief silence while I thought over something she had just said.
“Mrs. Owens, how did Elaine ask Jennifer up from Gila Bend for a visit? I mean, was there a phone in Jennifer’s household then?”
“Oh, no, there’s never been telephone service out to the trailer. No, they were correspondents. They wrote to one another constantly. Mostly girlish fiddle-faddle.”
“Would any of those letters still be in existence?”
“I doubt it. I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for them in any case.”
“Mrs. Owens, this is very important. Would you please look for anything resembling a letter? I believe Elaine was killed because she knew something or had something that incriminated someone here in the murder of her cousin.”
“Well, if you think it’s so important, certainly I will look for them.”
“Did Elaine attend college?”
“Yes, for a time she attended Arizona State University, here in Phoenix.”
I could feel my pulse quickening.
“Did you know any of the young men who came to the parties Elaine held while she was in college?”
“Certainly. I don’t recall all of their names, of course. They were mainly young gentlemen from the university.”
“Do the names Richard Longren or Andrew Hollingsworth mean anything to you?”
She thought for a moment. I pulled at my lower lip, then realized Lydia was watching me and stopped.
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t say they do. Do you suspect them in some way?”
“Not necessarily,” I said, willing any disappointment out of my voice. “How about the Theta Delta Chi fraternity?”
“Elaine’s husband was a member of Theta Delta Chi. He would often bring his fraternity brothers to her parties.”
“Could you find out from him if Richard Longren or Andrew Hollingsworth ever came along to any of the parties?”
“Yes, we will be seeing him this evening. He is quite devastated by all of this. I’m sure he’ll want to be of help.”
“You have my number here if anything turns up. If I’m not here, you can speak to Lydia Ames, my roommate.”
“If I find the letters, shouldn’t I contact the police?”
“By all means. Please give them to Rachel Giocopazzi and ask her to let me know.”
“That would be fine. Mind you, Elaine wasn’t much for saving mementos. I doubt she kept letters from her youth.”
“Well, thanks for trying, anyway.”
We said good-bye and hung up.
Lydia was full of questions.
“Look,” I said, waving them off, “this could be completely innocent. And it may be that they knew Elaine but never met her cousin.”
“You don’t believe in that much coincidence, do you? Same school, same frat, same circle of friends, moving from Phoenix to Las Piernas?”
“Not even the slightest shred of evidence. Phoenix and Las Piernas are not small towns. There could be any number of people here who came to Las Piernas from Phoenix. I’m just exploring possibilities.”
I excused myself to take a shower. I knew I hadn’t been entirely honest with Lydia. Her questions about Frank had made me close off; when she asked about Hollingsworth and Longren I had denied my real suspicions. I decided to talk to her more about it later. Throughout the day, I had become more and more convinced that the mayor and Hollingsworth at least knew something about Jennifer Owens, and one of them may have killed her. I was certain that finding evidence was only a matter of time and effort.
40
I DRESSED QUICKLY and headed out for Frank’s house. The phone call from Alberta Owens had delayed me a little, so I decided I’d put off my talk with Lydia. Maybe we could get together this evening. When I got to Frank’s house, there was already a car in the driveway — I recognized it as Pete’s. Since it was another sunny beach weekend day, I had to park four blocks away, which made me even later.
I knocked on the door and Frank opened it, seeming relieved to see me. “Just starting to get worried about you.”
“Well, I was running a little late anyway, but then I had to park in Timbuktu.”
“Sorry, Irene!” Pete called out from the living room.
As we walked down the hallway, Frank said, “I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t thinking. Pete’s been good enough to loan me his car while he’s in Phoenix. He’s flying down there tonight.”
