Pretend You Don't See Her (26 page)

 
          
Late
Friday morning, Sandy drove to check out Royce Realty in Edina. The woman he
had spoken to on the phone had seemed one of those
firm
,
schoolmarm types. She had answered his initial questions freely enough. Yes,
she had a young woman working for her, age twenty-six, who was planning to take
her Realtor certification test but had left to have a baby.

 
          
Sandy
had asked if that young woman had been replaced.

 
          
It
was the pause that interested him. It indicated neither denial nor
confirmation. “I have a candidate in mind,” was what Mrs. Royce finally told
him. And yes, she was in the twenty-five to thirty-five age
category
.

 
          
When
he reached Edina, Sandy parked his car in the supermarket lot across the street
from the Royce office. He sat there for about twenty minutes, taking in details
of the area. There was a delicatessen, next door to the agency, which had a
fair amount of traffic. A hardware store halfway down the block also looked
busy. He saw no one, however, either going into or coming out of Royce Realty.

 
          
Finally
Sandy got out of the car, crossed the street, and sauntered past the agency,
casually glancing inside. Then he stopped as though to examine the contents of
a flyer prominently displayed in the agency window.

 
          
He
could see that there was a desk in the reception area. Neatly stacked papers
suggested that it was usually occupied. He could see beyond to where a largish
woman with gray hair was sitting at a desk in a private office.

 
          
Sandy
decided to go in.

 
          
Millicent
Royce looked up as the door chimes signaled the arrival of a visitor. She saw a
conservatively dressed gray-haired man in what she judged to be his late
fifties. She went out to greet him.

 
          
His
story was simple and direct. He said he was Paul Gilbert, visiting the Twin
Cities on business for 3M —“That’s Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing,” he
explained with an apologetic smile.

 
          
“My
husband worked there all his adult life,” Millicent answered, not quite
understanding why it should irritate her that this stranger had assumed she
would not understand what 3M stood for.

 
          
“My
daughter’s husband is being transferred here, and my daughter was told that
Edina is a lovely place to live,” he told her. “She’s pregnant, so I thought
that while I’m here I could do a little house hunting for her.”

 
          
Millicent
Royce dismissed her feeling of pique. “Aren’t you the good father!” she said.
“Now let me just ask you a few questions so I can get some idea of what your
daughter is hoping to find.”

 
          
Sandy
smoothly gave appropriate answers about his supposed daughter’s name, address,
and family needs, which included “a kindergarten for her four-year-old, a
good-sized back yard, and a large kitchen—she loves to cook.” He left half an
hour later with Millicent Royce’s card in his pocket, and her promise to find
just the right house. In fact, she told him she had one just coming on the market
that might be perfect.

 
          
Sandy
went back across the street and again sat in the car, his eyes fixed on the
entrance to the agency. If there was someone using the reception desk, she was
probably at lunch, he figured, and would return soon.

 
          
Ten
minutes later, a young blond woman in her twenties went into the agency.
Customer or receptionist?
Sandy wondered. He got out of the
car and again crossed the street, taking care to stay out of view of anyone
inside the real estate office. For several minutes he stood in front of the
delicatessen, reading the lunch specials. From the corner of his eye he could
glance from time to time into the Royce agency.

 
          
The
young blond woman was sitting at the reception desk, talking animatedly to Mrs.
Royce.

 
          
Unfortunately
for Sandy, he could not read lips. Had he been able to, he would have heard
Regina saying, “Millicent, you have no idea how much easier it was to sit
behind this desk than to take care of a colicky baby! And I have to admit that
your new assistant keeps it a lot neater than I did.”

 
          
Irritated
at having wasted so much time, Sandy walked quickly back to his car and drove
away. Another washout, he thought. Since there were other possibilities to
track down in the area, he decided to continue to make the rounds of suburban
agencies. He wanted to be back in downtown Minneapolis by late afternoon,
though. That was a good time to look into the health clubs.

 
          
The
next club on his list was the Twin Cities Gym on Hennepin Avenue.

 
          
“NOW
BONNIE, DON’T BE LIKE THAT. YOU KNOW YOU DO so like Jane to mind you,” Kit said
persuasively. “Daddy and Nana and I are just going to dinner in New York. We
won’t be late, I promise. But now Mommy has to finish getting dressed.”

 
          
Heartsick,
she looked at her daughter’s woebegone face. “Don’t forget, Nana promised that
next week, when Lacey phones, you can talk to her.”

 
          
Jay
was putting on his tie. Kit’s eyes met his over Bonnie’s head. Her look
implored him to think of something to say to their daughter.

 
          
“I’ve
got an idea for Bonnie,” he said cheerfully. “Who wants to hear it?”

 
          
Bonnie
did not look up.

 
          
“I
want to hear it,” Kit volunteered.

 
          
“When
Lacey comes home, I’m going to send her and Bonnie—just the two of them—to
Disney World. How does that sound?”

 
          
“But
when is Lacey coming home?” Bonnie whispered.

 
          
“Very
soon,” Kit said heartily.

 
          
“In time for my birthday?”
There was the sound of hope in
the little girl’s voice.

 
          
Bonnie
would be five on March 1st.

 
          
“Yes,
in time for your birthday,” Jay promised. “Now go on downstairs, sweetheart.
Jane wants you to help her make brownies.”

 
          
“My
birthday isn’t that far away,” a much happier Bonnie said, as she sprang up
from beside Kit’s dressing table.

 
          
Kit
waited until she heard Bonnie’s footsteps going down the stairs. “Jay, how
could

 
          
you
…?

 
          
“Kit,
I know it was a mistake, but I had to say something to cheer her up. We can’t
be late for this dinner. I don’t think you understand how I’ve sweated this
order for Jimmy Landi’s casino. For a long time I’ve been closed out there completely.
As it is, I got underbid on some of the biggest orders. Now that I’m back in
with them, I can’t let anything go wrong.”

 
          
He
pulled on his jacket. “And, Kit, remember that Jimmy just found out from some
private detective he hired that Lacey is my sister-in-law. In fact, Alex said
that’s why Landi called him to set up the dinner.”

 
          
“Why Alex?”

 
          
“Because
he also found out that Alex is dating your mother.”

 
          
“What
else does he know about us?” Kit asked angrily. “Does he know that my sister
could have been killed if she’d gone into that apartment five minutes earlier?
Or when she was shot at on our doorstep? Does he know that our child is
recovering from a bullet wound and is under treatment for depression?”

 
          
Jay
Taylor put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Kit, please! It’ll be okay, I
promise. But we have to go. Don’t forget, we’ve got to pick up your mother.”

 
          
*

 
          
Mona
Farrell had carried the phone to the window and was looking outside when she
saw the car pull up. “They’re here, Lacey,” she said. “I’m going to have to
go.”

 
          
They
had been talking for nearly forty minutes. Lacey knew that Deputy Marshal
Svenson would be getting impatient, but she had been especially reluctant to
break the connection tonight. It had been such a long day, and the weekend
stretched endlessly before her.

 
          
Last
Friday at this time she had been looking forward to her date with Tom Lynch.
There was nothing for her to look forward to now.

 
          
When
she had asked about Bonnie, she could tell from her mother’s overly cheerful
reassurances that Bonnie was still not doing well.

 
          
Even
less reassuring had been the news that her mother, Kit, and Jay were having
dinner tonight with Jimmy Landi at Alex Carbine’s restaurant. As she started to
say good-bye, Lacey cautioned, “Mom, for heaven’s sake, be careful not to tell
anyone where I am. You’ve got to swear to me—”

 
          
“Lacey,
don’t you think I understand the danger I’d put you in? Don’t worry. No one
will learn anything from me.”

 
          
“I’m
sorry, Mom, it’s just—”

 
          
“It’s
all right, dear. Now I really do have to go. I can’t keep them waiting. What
have you got on for tonight?”

 
          
“I’m
signed up at a new gym. It has a great squash court.
Should
be fun.”

 
          
“Oh,
I know how much you love to play squash.” Mona Farrell was genuinely pleased as
she murmured, “Love and miss you, dear. Good-bye.”

 
          
She
hurried down to the car, thinking that at least she could tell Kit and Jay and
Alex what Lacey was doing for recreation.

 
          
ON
FRIDAY EVENING, TOM LYNCH WAS PLANNING TO HAVE an after-theater
drink
with his cousin, Kate. Her show was completing its
Minneapolis engagement, and he wanted to say good-bye to her. He was also
hoping that she might pick up his spirits.

 
          
Ever
since Alice Carroll had told him that there was another man in her life, he had
been depressed, and as a result everything seemed to be going wrong. The
producer of his radio program had had to signal him several times to pick up
his delivery, and even he was aware that he had sounded downright flat during
several author interviews.

 
          
A
touring production of Show Boat was opening at the Orpheum on Saturday night,
and Tom’s fingers itched to dial Alice’s number and invite her to see it with
him. He even found himself planning what he would say to her: “This time you
can have the extra slice of pizza.”

 
          
On
Friday evening he decided to go over to the gym and work out for a while. He
wasn’t meeting Kate until eleven o’clock, and there was absolutely nothing else
he could think of to do with his time.

 
          
He
admitted to himself that he actually was harboring the secret hope that Alice
might come into the gym, that they would start talking, and she would admit
that she had serious doubts about this man in her life.

 
          
When
he came out of the men’s locker room, Tom looked around, but it was clear that
Alice Carroll wasn’t there, and, in fact, he already knew that she hadn’t been
there all week.

 
          
Through
the glass that surrounded the manager’s office, he could see Ruth Wilcox in
deep conversation with a gray-haired man. As he watched, Ruth shook her head
several times, and he thought he detected a slight expression of distaste on
her face.