Read Online Ken Kuhlken_Hickey Family Mystery 02 by The Venus Deal - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: The Venus Deal
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painter, he’s never heard of anybody named Moon.”
“The girl’s real name’s Tucker,” Hickey said. “I found her daddy in a rest home. He’s not talking, but I got an idea where she went. I’ll be gone a day or two. A couple things you could do for me. See if you can locate an Emma Vidal.”
“Spell.”
“V-I-D-A-L. She’s not listed. And call Thrapp or somebody, tell him we got a missing person. File a report, then wheedle him into getting a warrant and escorting you into the Tucker house. Three-sixty-six Wisteria Court. Got it?”
“Yep.”
“Snoop around in there. Look for stuff on the mother, Venus. She might go by Tucker or a different name. She lives in Dunsmuir, near Mount Shasta. I’m on my way up there.” Madeline padded in, barefoot, tying her red silk bathrobe. “I’ll call you tomorrow at breakfasttime. Bye.”
He hung up and kissed his wife on the forehead and dry lips. Her hair smelled like a jungle in the rain. He glanced into her wide brown eyes and smiled, thinking how animated they always looked, as if besides being part of somebody, they had lives all their own. She backed off a step, folded her arms.
“Mount Shasta?”
“Yeah. I’m going for a drive. I got a feeling.”
“Oh. What feeling’s that?”
“Like the girl’s too screwy to be running around the state with a loaded gun.”
Madeline’s cheeks puffed out slowly as if they were filling with words she could spit at him. “Day after tomorrow, wasn’t it, we were taking the train to L.A.? The Beverly Wilshire, you remember?”
“Maybe I’ll get back in time. If not, we can go next Saturday, or during the week.”
“Fine.” With a bitter smile, she turned and padded into the kitchen. “You want me to be a good little wife, pack you a bag of sandwiches for the trip?”
As long as you don’t lace them with rat poison, he wanted to say. But she’d made a comeback. He’d retaliate and finally leave her with some crack he’d regret. It was the damnedest thing, how words always were riskiest with the people you loved.
He followed her into the kitchen, where she’d picked the photo of Cynthia and the drawing out of their manila envelope. He stepped closer to intercept her if she started tearing them into confetti.
Elizabeth threw open the back door from the sun deck, ran through the sleeping porch and living room. She’d been out in the boat; you could tell by the way her hair kinked and glistened with mist, by her parched lips and rosy cheeks.
At fourteen she looked like a woman—a starlet, the way her mom used to. A couple inches taller than Madeline, otherwise the same figure. High, modest breasts. A waist made tiny by the swell of her hips. Long, thin legs and long, narrow feet. Walking like a dancer, she tiptoed up to Hickey and kissed him on the nose.
“Daddy, my friends are going to the Cove Theater tomorrow night. Could you drop me there and pick me up at Gwen’s house on your way home? I don’t care if it’s late. Gwen’s folks will let us stay up. Please. Mom won’t let me ride with the kids after dark.”
“I won’t be here, babe. I’m going up north on business.”
“Oh.” She sighed, then an idea twinkled her eyes. “San Francisco?”
“Nope. To Mount Shasta, up past Sacramento.”
“There’s snow, huh? Daddy, can I go? We could take the toboggan and…”
“Forget it, Lizzie,” Madeline snapped.
Hickey petted his daughter’s hair. “It wouldn’t be much fun, kiddo. Mostly driving; I’m not staying long.”
“Jesus, Tom, you don’t need to talk her out of it. She’s just not going anyplace where you or anybody is carrying a gun.”
With a sneer at her mother, Elizabeth rushed off to her bedroom. Something heavy smacked the ground. “Got your temper,” Madeline said.
“Why don’t you pack a few things, go along for the ride?” Hickey offered. “There’s a ski resort at Mount Lassen. I could drop you two there. If things work out, on the way home we
“The girl’s real name’s Tucker,” Hickey said. “I found her daddy in a rest home. He’s not talking, but I got an idea where she went. I’ll be gone a day or two. A couple things you could do for me. See if you can locate an Emma Vidal.”
“Spell.”
“V-I-D-A-L. She’s not listed. And call Thrapp or somebody, tell him we got a missing person. File a report, then wheedle him into getting a warrant and escorting you into the Tucker house. Three-sixty-six Wisteria Court. Got it?”
“Yep.”
“Snoop around in there. Look for stuff on the mother, Venus. She might go by Tucker or a different name. She lives in Dunsmuir, near Mount Shasta. I’m on my way up there.” Madeline padded in, barefoot, tying her red silk bathrobe. “I’ll call you tomorrow at breakfasttime. Bye.”
He hung up and kissed his wife on the forehead and dry lips. Her hair smelled like a jungle in the rain. He glanced into her wide brown eyes and smiled, thinking how animated they always looked, as if besides being part of somebody, they had lives all their own. She backed off a step, folded her arms.
“Mount Shasta?”
“Yeah. I’m going for a drive. I got a feeling.”
“Oh. What feeling’s that?”
“Like the girl’s too screwy to be running around the state with a loaded gun.”
Madeline’s cheeks puffed out slowly as if they were filling with words she could spit at him. “Day after tomorrow, wasn’t it, we were taking the train to L.A.? The Beverly Wilshire, you remember?”
“Maybe I’ll get back in time. If not, we can go next Saturday, or during the week.”
“Fine.” With a bitter smile, she turned and padded into the kitchen. “You want me to be a good little wife, pack you a bag of sandwiches for the trip?”
As long as you don’t lace them with rat poison, he wanted to say. But she’d made a comeback. He’d retaliate and finally leave her with some crack he’d regret. It was the damnedest thing, how words always were riskiest with the people you loved.
He followed her into the kitchen, where she’d picked the photo of Cynthia and the drawing out of their manila envelope. He stepped closer to intercept her if she started tearing them into confetti.
Elizabeth threw open the back door from the sun deck, ran through the sleeping porch and living room. She’d been out in the boat; you could tell by the way her hair kinked and glistened with mist, by her parched lips and rosy cheeks.
At fourteen she looked like a woman—a starlet, the way her mom used to. A couple inches taller than Madeline, otherwise the same figure. High, modest breasts. A waist made tiny by the swell of her hips. Long, thin legs and long, narrow feet. Walking like a dancer, she tiptoed up to Hickey and kissed him on the nose.
“Daddy, my friends are going to the Cove Theater tomorrow night. Could you drop me there and pick me up at Gwen’s house on your way home? I don’t care if it’s late. Gwen’s folks will let us stay up. Please. Mom won’t let me ride with the kids after dark.”
“I won’t be here, babe. I’m going up north on business.”
“Oh.” She sighed, then an idea twinkled her eyes. “San Francisco?”
“Nope. To Mount Shasta, up past Sacramento.”
“There’s snow, huh? Daddy, can I go? We could take the toboggan and…”
“Forget it, Lizzie,” Madeline snapped.
Hickey petted his daughter’s hair. “It wouldn’t be much fun, kiddo. Mostly driving; I’m not staying long.”
“Jesus, Tom, you don’t need to talk her out of it. She’s just not going anyplace where you or anybody is carrying a gun.”
With a sneer at her mother, Elizabeth rushed off to her bedroom. Something heavy smacked the ground. “Got your temper,” Madeline said.
“Why don’t you pack a few things, go along for the ride?” Hickey offered. “There’s a ski resort at Mount Lassen. I could drop you two there. If things work out, on the way home we
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