Welcome to book fourteen in the Operation Quickline series. When old evidence in uncovered in the long-unsolved murder of Sid’s mother, he and Lisa end up mired in one of the messiest cases of their careers. You can read the first chapter here, or check out the other chapters here.
(Lisa’s Voice)
I was so crazed that morning. I’d been dreading that semester as it was. Yes, I was excited about my classes, but my meetings the day before had only confirmed my worst fears – all three of my PhD classes were going to be incredibly time-consuming and challenging.
Since I’m required to teach as part of my program, I had a Basic Comp class at a local community college. Only right before Christmas, the department chair there had twisted my arm into taking a second section of Basic Comp.
Also, right before Christmas, Mama had dropped a bit of a bombshell on me. My cousin Maggie, at my mother’s direction, had also enrolled at the community college where I taught. Maggie had moved to Los Angeles from Florida the September before, having been transferred when the company she worked for had been bought out. The two of us had moved past the open hostility we’d shared in our youths. But we were not going to be friends. She still thought I was a horrible snob, and I could not stand the way she flirted with Sid, as if she was going to steal him from me.
Not that she had a hope in hell of succeeding. I had a feeling Maggie may not have even been that serious about it. But it sure made meetings with her uncomfortable as all get out. Even Sid, who flirts outrageously just for the fun of it, was getting creeped out by Maggie.
And on top of it all was the nuisance job, including what it meant for Sid and Stella. I was worried about both of them. Sy had taken over caring for Stella. Sid had gotten through the night before without any nightmares, for which I thanked God. After our meeting with Lillian and Henry, Sid and I set up basic surveillance on Van Blinn with our team and good friends, Jesse, Kathy, Frank, and Esther. Kathy was already digging into Van Blinn’s financial records, while Jesse would find Van Blinn’s car at the country club and install a tracker on it so that Frank could monitor Van Blinn’s movements. Esther would take over monitoring once she got back the next day from the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas.
Which meant that all six of us would be spending more time than we wanted following a probably harmless old man around while trying to lead normal lives because no one, but no one, is supposed to know that we’re all six of us undercover operatives for a top-secret counter-espionage agency.
It didn’t help that Advanced Curriculum, my one lecture class, turned out to be as much about dealing with politics as it was about trying to figure out what students needed to learn. Which makes sense. Most school boards are made up of politicians, and a lot of them don’t have any educational background. But it was not what I wanted to be dealing with.
Then, as I left the classroom, one of my advisors caught me in the hallway and wanted an extended chat. Then there was a line at the bookstore, where I needed to buy the extra textbook for Advanced Curriculum. By the time I got out of there, I barely had forty-five minutes to get to the community college where I was teaching.
I stopped at the cheap taco place in desperation since I’d forgotten my lunch that morning. While waiting in the drive-through, I called Frank from my car phone to find that the tracker had been installed on the car the subject had arrived in at the country club earlier that morning, and it was functioning.
“I’m getting a reading,” Frank said. “Jesse says that Sid left around twelve-forty-five, but the subject hasn’t gone anywhere.”
“Thanks,” I said, then hung up.
That Sid had left after only forty-five minutes did not bode well. I tried calling his car but didn’t get through. He’d either already arrived at Stella’s music school, which seemed likely given how close it was to two o’clock, or one of us was in a dead zone for the cell phone signal.
I glanced at the clock on my dashboard and almost cried, but pulled into the faculty lot at the college with barely ten minutes to spare before my first class. I rushed through the department office to get my class sheets, then ran for the classroom. At least that class went reasonably well.
The other bright spot in my day was that Nick showed up at my classroom just as I dismissed the other students. Nick is what’s called a bridge student, which means that he’s taking classes for credit at the college while still in high school. He’s very gifted, especially in chemistry, and was too advanced in that subject even for the very challenging program that his high school has. The main reason I’d chosen that college to teach at was because it would make driving him around easier, although Nick usually took the bus from his high school to the college.
“Hey, my sweet guy.” I grinned and played with the lock of hair that always falls over his forehead. “How was school?”
“Okay. Mostly the usual.” He shrugged. “I got a note home, though.” He made a face. “I’m supposed to shave every day now.”
Nick goes to a Catholic all-boys school and is also not allowed to wear his hair past his collar or facial hair. I’d been wondering when the school’s teachers were going to question the dark wisps covering his chin and cheeks.
“Your father will be thrilled.” I chuckled.
Sid had been itching to do something about Nick’s beard for a while but had been biting his tongue in an attempt to let Nick make his own decisions. Which, naturally, meant that Nick was totally onto him and had been not-so-subtly resisting his father’s equally not-so-subtle attempts to get him to clean up.
Nick made a face. “Well, I knew I was going to have to.” He shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”
Smiling, I shook my head. I had a feeling Nick had changed his stance on shaving simply because most of his peers couldn’t yet.
Unfortunately, chit-chatting almost made both of us late to our respective classes. Nick’s was across the quad in the science building. Mine was up another floor and down the hall. As I raced into the room, I thought I heard a groan. Then, as I dumped my leather bag on the desktop and looked over the group of students, I realized I had.
I must concede the person who groaned had good reason for her dismay. I was equally dismayed when I finally looked at my class sheet and saw Caulfield, Margaret, among the student names.
“I’m Lisa Wycherly,” I announced. “And this is English One-A, Basic Composition. I’m your teacher. Is everybody sure they’re in the right place?”
The students did the usual shuffle, including my cousin Maggie, who also shot me an evil glare. I smiled at her, then took roll, asking the students to tell me if they had a preferred nickname. When I called Margaret Caulfield, she looked at me funny.
“I go by Maggie,” she said.
“Maggie it is,” I said, making a note.
I finished with roll call, then went through the basic course requirements. The next part of class was a brief getting to know you session, where each student introduced his or her self. The room was too small and too full for everyone to put their chair/desk combos into a circle. So everyone sat in their rows. They were mostly freshmen, and mostly fresh out of high school, but this being a somewhat later class, a good quarter of the students were older. Some were coming back to college after an absence. Others had found they needed the degree, after all. And some, including Maggie, had never had the opportunity to go.
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” she said defiantly. “Most of my family said I didn’t need to go to college. That I could get by on my looks. And I wasn’t smart enough, anyway.”
“Well, that’s bull-puckey.” It slipped out of my mouth before I realized what I’d said. “You’re plenty smart.”
Maggie looked at me. The truth is, she is very beautiful and always has been. Her father is my mother’s older brother, and while that side of the family tends to be short and round, Maggie had gotten her mother’s more willowy frame. True, her blond hair had always had some help from a bottle, and I could see some dark roots among the highlights in the hair that she’d cut short sometime after I’d last seen her the previous fall.
I flushed a little, then smiled. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
She quirked her head. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here, and I’m a business major.”
We moved on. I gave out the first assignment, which was done in class. Maggie held back after I dismissed the class and collected the papers as the other students left.
“You really think I’m smart?” she asked once we were alone.
“Yeah.” I looked at her quickly, then focused on gathering papers together.
“How the hell did you get that idea?”
I shrugged. “It’s the way you talk about things. Like when you were practicing for beauty pageants, you thought about the judges and why you wanted to present yourself one way or another.”
“But you thought beauty pageants were stupid.”
“True.” I flushed a little and winced. “But I only said so because I was, what? Seven at the time?”
Maggie chuckled. “I suppose that’s fair enough.” She paused, then frowned. “How come you pretended like you didn’t know me today?”
“Well, I didn’t know you were going to be in the class.”
“I didn’t know you were teaching it. The class schedule just said Staff.”
I smiled. “That’s right. I was assigned the class right before Christmas, so they didn’t have time to get my name in the schedule.” Shrugging, I made a face. “I didn’t know what you wanted me to do. Sometimes, students get weird when it’s obvious one of their classmates knows the teacher. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
Maggie thought that over, then nodded. “Lisa Wycherly, I am never going to get you.”
“Hey, Mom.” Nick scurried into the room. “I’m done.”
Maggie’s grin grew sharp. “Well, if it isn’t that sweet bit of sugar you got.”
“Maggie,” I snapped. “He’s fifteen.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and sauntered from the classroom.
“Man, she’s creepy.” Nick shuddered.
“I know.” I double-checked to make sure I had all my stuff.
“At least Dad’s not here. Blech. That was way gross.”
“I agree.” I sighed and looked at my son. “But I think that’s the only way she knows how to be.”
“How is she?” I asked.
“Still in a crappy mood,” Sid replied. “She yelled at Tyeesha today.”
“Oh, no.”
Tyeesha is a sweet kid and very talented. But at twelve years old, she can be a little on the rowdy side. Stella’s patience with her is phenomenal. Or had been.
“Stella apologized, but still…” Sid sighed deeply. “She wants to hear about my meeting with Van Blinn.”
“How’d she find out about that?”
“I told her that I’d talked to him. One of my more colossal mistakes.”
“Lover, you’re doing the best you can,” I said, even though I agreed that he had made a doozy.
I heard Darby in the background, then Sid growling at him. Oh, goody. Stella wasn’t the only one in a crappy mood.
Sy and Stella had already arrived, as had Sid and Darby, when I pulled my little truck into the garage. Conversation at dinner was pretty banal, then I sent the boys off to do their homework before time for bed. For once, neither complained about having to do it, although Darby sighed loudly.
Darby had been staying with Sid, Nick, and me during the week since the boys had started high school. Ostensibly, it was an easier way to get him to school and violin lessons and everywhere else he needed to be. But I honestly think it had more to do with keeping Mae and Neil from pounding him into oblivion. Not that they would, but adolescents can make you want to.
As soon as the boys had left the table, Stella glared at Sid.
“So who is this Van Blinn character, and why is he important to Sheila’s murder?”
“He said that he was going to marry her.” Sid shifted. “He was a client at Jane Smith’s house, claimed it was an office thing. But he said that he fell in love with Sheila and that he was going to be my father.”
“Oh.” Stella huffed. “Maybe she wasn’t lying after all.”
“I suspect not,” Sy said, reaching over and stroking Stella’s arm.
Stella looked at Sid. “She said that she had found someone to take her away and that she was going to take you with her.” Stella blinked and shook her head.
“We did not doubt that she was going away,” Sy grumbled. “It was only a matter of time before she did.”
“She wasn’t going to take Sid,” Stella snapped. “She wouldn’t have. She didn’t give a crap about him!”
Sid shook his head. “But apparently, Van Blinn did. He was convinced that I was going to fall all over myself, embracing him as my surrogate father.”
“But she slapped you. And she left you alone!” Stella pressed her lips together and shuddered. “It happened all the time. She swore she would watch you and take care of you, and she didn’t!”
“My darling,” Sy said. He pulled away from her physically, though. “It is entirely possible that if this Van Blinn wanted a ready-made family, then Sheila might have seen Sid as her ticket out from underneath your thumb.”
“She was never under my thumb!” Stella yelled. “Why would you say that?”
“That was her perception,” Sy said calmly. “It doesn’t matter that it was not, in fact, the case. She believed it to be. And we both know that.”
Stella looked at her nephew. “The only thing I did to her was insist that she get a job to support her son. And me, so that I could take care of you, Sid. Or I’d tell Father where to find her. I swear that’s all I did.”
“I believe you,” Sid said quietly. “But why did you believe her when she told you that she worked at an import company?”
Stella closed her eyes and lowered her head. “I didn’t. I tried to tell myself that she wasn’t turning tricks. But I was fairly certain that she was. I just couldn’t confront her without hard proof. The few times I tried, Sheila raised hell with me. And with justification. I didn’t actually know what she was doing.” Stella’s breathing grew labored. “And it was such a shock to find out I was right. You see, I didn’t really want to know. I couldn’t change her.” She looked over at Sid. “It was, ultimately, her choice. And it didn’t matter. We had a good roof over our heads, food on the table, and I was able to take care of you. That was the most important thing. That I was able to take care of you. I hope you understand that.”
Sid closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah, Stella, I do. I don’t know if I would have a few years ago. I like to think that I would. But…” He looked back toward Nick’s room. “I certainly do now.”
Sy reached over and laid his hand gently on Stella’s shoulder.
“My darling, it is, perhaps, time we made our way to our home,” he said.
“It is high time that we found out what happened to my sister,” Stella snarled.
“However, we will not be able to do it tonight,” Sy replied firmly. He looked over at Sid. “You will keep us abreast of any discoveries that you make?”
“I will,” Sid said. “I hope you’ll share any information you get with me.”
“Without question.” Sy got up and pulled Stella to her feet. “Come, my darling. Let us sleep on what we have learned and ponder the rest of it tomorrow.”
Sid and I led Sy and Stella out of the house, giving them both hugs and kisses. I went to check on the boys, who had finished their homework and begged me to let them watch TV until their nine o’clock bedtime. That they didn’t need to beg was irrelevant. Chuckling, I returned to the office to start grading papers from earlier that day and maybe get some reading work done.
We have a fire safe built into one of the cabinets in there, where we keep things like our passports, my aquamarine necklace and earrings, and the few records we have on the business. Sid stood next to the open safe door, looking at a file folder.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, walking over to him.
“My life papers,” he said, closing the safe’s door while still holding the file. He went over to his desk and reopened the file. “My mother’s picture.”
“Are you finally thinking of getting it framed and put out?” I smiled. I’d been trying to nudge him in that direction for years.
“Nah.” He sighed and shook his head, still gazing at the black-and-white photo.
I’d always thought that it was a gorgeous shot and still marveled at how much the young woman with the bright, light-colored eyes looked like Stella must have back then. While the cleft in her chin made Stella look more stern, the gentle dimple in the photo simply added to the young woman’s allure.
Sid, however, insisted on keeping the photo in the file, claiming that it had little to no meaning to him, certainly not enough to justify a place on our increasingly crowded walls. I would have thought he was being weird about it except that he didn’t mind taking it out and showing it to me, Nick, or one of the other kids.
“Nothing’s changed,” he said that evening. “That photo, itself, still doesn’t mean that much. If it didn’t look so much like Stella, I probably wouldn’t have kept it.”
Still, he pulled the photo from the file containing his birth certificate and a few school records. Leaving the photo on the desk, he put the file back in the safe, closed the door and twirled the knob. Going back over to the desk, he sighed as he gazed at the photo.
“I was hoping that looking at it again would help make her more real to me,” Sid said finally.
“And?” I asked. “Is it working?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Maybe it will just take a little time.”