A Denial of Death Read online

  "Nothing, as far as I know," Helen said. "I haven't actually met her yet. I'm more of a friend of a friend."

  Charlene looked puzzled. "Then why are you here?"

  "It's complicated." Helen realized she didn't even know what Angie looked like. If she looked anything like her sister, her beauty might help to explain why Ralph put up with her abrasive personality. She'd seen that sort of superficiality often enough in her years on the political circuit, where it was common for politicians to seek out spouses who looked good, regardless of their personality, and for professional spouses to seek out politicians who could provide status and wealth, regardless of their personality. Maybe Angie and Ralph had had that sort of mutually beneficial arrangement. "Do you have a picture of her?"

  Charlene rose and went over to a built-in shelving unit where she had more art glass sculptures mixed in with an assortment of framed pictures. She selected one of the photographs and handed it to Helen. "This is the three of us on a day trip last year, for Angie's birthday."

  In the picture Ralph and Charlene were standing next to each other in front of a grandiose hotel, smiling woodenly for the camera. They both had one hand on the shoulder of a short, chubby woman in front of them, like little kids unwilling to let go of a favorite toy. That woman had to be Angie.

  If Helen hadn't known better, she would have assumed Ralph and Charlene were the married couple, and Angie was the odd sibling out. Ralph and Charlene were almost the same height and slender, with expensive haircuts and business casual clothes. Angie was shorter and rounder than they were, her frizzy salt-and-pepper hair looked like she'd cut it herself, and she wore unflatteringly baggy jeans, a tank top sprinkled with rhinestones, and even sparklier sneakers. It took an effort for Helen to notice even that much about Angie, since her eye was drawn to the two more photogenic people in the picture.

  Could that small, almost invisible person really be the abrasive harpy who Betty, Josie and Jack had all described?

  Photographs could be misleading, of course. Some people were just naturally more photogenic than others, and some people were more impressive in person. The camera certainly loved Ralph and Charlene, drawing the eye away from everything else in the frame. Maybe if Angie had been the only person in the picture, she would have been more impressive.

  Helen tried to block out everything except Angie's face. Unlike Ralph and Charlene, Angie was peering off to one side instead of at the camera, and her expression was one of intense irritation. Perhaps that had contributed to the impression that Angie wasn't fully integrated into the picture.

  She turned the picture to Charlene, pointing at Angie's eyes. "What was she looking at?"

  "I have no idea. All I remember is that she made me give my Nikon to the bellhop, and then she ordered him to take the picture." Charlene laughed fondly, the amusement enveloping her entire face. "She can get anyone to do anything she wants. And what she wants is usually to be the center of attention."

  Angie couldn't have been easy to live with as either a sibling or a spouse. Everyone seemed to think it was surprising that the sweet, handsome Ralph had never divorced the demanding, average-looking Angie, but Helen wondered why, if Angie truly believed she was entitled to whatever she wanted, she hadn't divorced Ralph, a man she obviously considered to be lacking in a number of ways?

  Of course, Helen knew only too well how easy it was to stay in an unsatisfactory relationship. The last ten years with her ex-husband, she'd viewed the label of "wife" as more of a job description than a personal commitment. She might have stayed married to Frank even longer if it hadn't been for the lupus flare-up that had interfered with her ability to carry out the duties of the state's First Lady. Once she'd taken a break from her usual sixteen-hour workdays, she'd had time to think about what she wanted, and, more to the point, what she hadn't wanted. It hadn't taken long to realize that the two big things she didn't want were her ex-husband and a career in politics.

  Angie's situation was different, though. She probably hadn't had a particularly demanding schedule as the wife of a small-town insurance agent. Even with her wide-ranging volunteer activities, she would have had plenty of time to build up resentment against Ralph, until she'd disappeared on him every once in a while as some sort of displaced punishment. But she'd always come back before. If she'd really been so dissatisfied with Ralph, why hadn't she just gotten a divorce and moved on with her life, the way Helen had done?

  Maybe Angie had finally decided to do just that. Maybe she hadn't been killed, as Betty and Josie feared, but had simply left Ralph for a test separation and then decided not to come back. If so, where could she have gone? The hotel in the background looked vaguely familiar, but Helen couldn't place it. "Where was this picture taken?"

  "A casino." Charlene reached across the coffee table to reclaim the picture. "In Connecticut. That's where she is now, in fact. It's her favorite place to escape from her husband. That picture is from the one and only time he went with her."

  To Helen's dismay she felt a fleeting sense of disappointment that there was no murder to investigate. She was glad Angie was alive and well, of course. It was just that looking for Angie had made Helen feel appreciated and useful again.

  Just to be sure she hadn't misunderstood, Helen said, "Angie's been gone longer than usual. Has she left her husband for good this time?"

  Charlene shrugged. "You'd have to ask her. All she told me was that she needed to get away."

  "I would like to ask Angie." It struck Helen as odd that Angie had told her sister she was going away, and where, without saying when she'd be back or even whether she'd ever return. And if she'd said she was leaving for good, then Charlene should have been gloating over her sister's imminent divorce from a man Charlene hated. "Do you know how I can get in touch with her at the casino?"

  "I'm sure she'll be back soon." Charlene returned the picture to the shelf and paused to straighten the row of art glass sculptures. "It must be nice to be able to go places on a whim without worrying about the cost or having to put in for vacation time. She'll call when she needs a ride home, but there's no rush. She doesn't have anything important for her to come back to. No job, I mean. She can take all the vacation time she wants, enjoying the shopping and the entertainment and the food. She'll come home when the money runs out."

  "When she's gambled it away, you mean? Is she a serious gambler?"

  "Angie? No. Of course not," Charlene said, but her voice lacked the conviction it had held earlier. "It's not like she's gambling away her life's savings or even her husband's. She's just having some fun. With her luck she probably won some money, and she's sticking around to spend it."

  Helen couldn't tell if Charlene really believed that or was in denial about her sister's gambling. An addiction would certainly explain a lot of Angie's behavior: her disappearances, the secret she was keeping from Ralph, and if her losses had been escalating, even her recent anxiety. "Has she ever lost more money than she can afford when she goes to the casino?"

  "We don't really talk about money," Charlene said. "It's possible she's staying away for other reasons. She could be waiting until her husband finishes building the gazebo. He always makes a mess with his projects, leaving his tools all over the place. If she were at home she'd feel obliged to pick up after him, even while she was resenting him for it. I wouldn't blame her for staying away as long as she can."

  That much, Helen could believe. She'd seen the trail of tools between the gazebo and the patio. "If you hear from Angie would you let me know? Her friends would appreciate an update."

  "Of course."

  "I'm afraid I don't have a current business card to give you. Do you have something I can jot my number on?"

  Charlene left to get paper and a pen. Helen gestured for Jack to come closer. He shuffled in from the hallway and knelt beside her chair, still reluctant to risk touching anything in the room.

  Helen whispered, "Do you believe her?"

  "Why would she lie?"

  "
I don't know." Maybe it was just Helen's subconscious bias affecting her observations. She wanted to believe Ralph wouldn't hurt his wife, so she wanted to believe Charlene, who was the only other likely suspect, was responsible for Angie's disappearance.

  "I did wonder about something," he said, looking guiltily toward the other room where Charlene could be heard rummaging through a drawer. "How did Angie get to the casino? She doesn't drive, and obviously Ralph didn't take her."

  Charlene's footsteps approached, and Jack scurried back to the safety of his glass-sculpture-free spot near the door.

  Helen took the offered pad and pencil stub, and wrote down her name and cell phone number. Charlene held out her hand to take it back, but Helen pretended not to notice.

  "I was just wondering," Helen said. "How did Angie get to the casino? Maybe her driver would know how to contact her, and we wouldn't have to wait until she got in touch with you."

  "I drove her down there, but I couldn't stay for more than one night because I had to return for work on Friday night. Weekends are my busy time, you know. She'll call me if she needs a ride home, or she'll hop on one of the tour buses."

  Helen handed the pad and pencil to Charlene before leaning heavily on the cane to stand up. "I hope you hear from her soon. It's not just her friends, but Ralph too. He's terribly worried about her."

  "Oh, you know Angie," Charlene said. "She likes making her husband worry about her, especially after he's done something stupid."

  "What did he do this time?"

  "I don't know," Charlene said. "I never know. It's none of my business."

  Helen tried to think of a subtle way to ask Charlene what she had against Ralph, but there really wasn't one. Sometimes blunt was the only option. "If your sister's squabbles with her husband are none of your business, then why do you hate Ralph so much?"

  "Hate him?" Charlene said. "I don't hate him. I even bought a substantial life insurance policy from him a few years ago. Why would you think I had anything against him?"

  "I must have misunderstood," Helen mumbled, no longer knowing who to believe. Charlene sounded honestly surprised, but Ralph had been every bit as convincing in his claim that his sister-in-law hated him, and there was definitely some tension between them in that picture on the mantel.

  "Angie's my sister, so I automatically take her side whenever she has an argument with Ralph. That's what family does. 'My sister, right or wrong.' Doesn't mean Ralph's a bad guy. As long as Angie is happy with him, that's all that matters to me. If she wants to leave him, I'll support her in that too."

  "Angie couldn't have ever been entirely happy with him," Helen said. "Not if she was nagging him all the time."

  Charlene waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, that. Angie nags everyone. It's how she shows she cares. If it weren't for her nagging, Ralph would never have started his own agency, and he'd never have made the business as successful as it's been over the years. Although, Angie says it's been a real struggle the last couple years. The economy and all. And she doesn't think he's been doing everything that's necessary to keep the agency afloat."

  "But she can still afford three weeks at a casino?"

  "She needed the vacation, and she deserved it." Charlene sounded defensive as she escorted Helen to the front door. "Don't worry. You'll see. She'll be home in another day or two."

  Helen hated to admit the local detectives might have been right to discount Betty's and Josie's concerns, but if Charlene, who clearly loved her sister, wasn't worried, it was hard to see why anyone else should be. Betty and Josie probably hadn't known about Angie's previous disappearances or what Helen suspected was at least a fascination with gambling, if not an actual addiction. Once they had the additional facts, they'd agree there was nothing to worry about. Ralph would understand too, once Helen tipped him off to the fact that Charlene had taken Angie to the casino.

  "I'm glad Angie is safe," Helen said. "You will let me know when you hear from her, though, won't you?"

  "I'll do better than that," Charlene said. "I'll have Angie call you herself as soon as I hear from her, if it will make you feel better."

  The only thing that would make Helen feel better right now would be to have something interesting to do, something as interesting as Jack found his clay avatars, Tate found his woodworking, and Betty and Josie found their needlework.

  Investigating Angie's disappearance had been the most interesting thing Helen had done in months, but she couldn't count on people disappearing on a regular basis just to spice up her life.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The nursing home was between Charlene's house and the used car dealership, so Helen decided she could get in and out of the sports car one extra time to visit Betty and Josie and let them know there was no reason to worry about Angie any longer.

  The two women were in their usual corner of the activity room today, in their usual wingback chairs near the fireplace, surreptitiously watching a couple in their nineties necking in the corner.

  Helen pulled a rocking chair over next to Betty.

  Josie jabbed her crochet hook in the direction of the sweethearts in the corner. "Aren't they cute? He's got Alzheimer's, and he thinks she's his first crush from junior high school. She claims she's just going along with his delusion because she doesn't want to break his heart, but we're pretty sure she planted the seed of his delusion. She's had her eye on him for months."

  "They do look happy," Helen said.

  Betty dug in her knitting bag for a new color of yarn to add to the wildly striped chemo cap she was making. "Did you know Ralph and Angie were real-life junior-high sweethearts? I bet they'd have been all lovey-dovey together like the couple in the corner in another forty years if, well, you know."

  "She means, if Ralph hadn't offed Angie," Josie said without looking away from the couple reliving puppy love.

  "Ralph didn't kill her," Helen said.

  Betty was startled enough to look up from the apparently complicated color work she was doing. "You solved her murder already?"

  "It looks like she's alive and well and not even missing," Helen said. "Her sister says they went to a casino together. Charlene had to come back for her job, but Angie wanted to stay for a while longer."

  "A casino?" Josie said, finally distracted from the necking couple in the corner. "Cool. I always wanted to go to one but never got around to it when I had the chance. Now my stupid doctor won't let me go. Says it would be too risky. I might fall or something. Maybe we can set up a poker game here when Angie gets back, and she can teach us all the tricks."

  "Poker doesn't sound like something Angie would do," Betty said thoughtfully. "She'd be really bad at it, for one thing. She's got a good head for numbers, so she'd understand the gist of the game, but she's no good at reading other people, and she doesn't like to do anything where she can't be the center of attention. Not exactly ideal traits for a good poker player. They need to be able to tell who's bluffing, and they need to be innocuous themselves, so as not to give away any clues about their hand to the other players."

  Josie stared at her friend. "When did you become an expert on poker?"

  "It's not all that different from playing bridge," Betty said, "and I used to play all the time with my husband. He qualified as a life master shortly before he died. I only needed a few more points myself, but I didn't feel like breaking in a new partner, so I haven't played since. Before that, though, I played a couple nights every week, plus weekend tournaments a couple times a month. I've seen a lot of both good and bad card players, enough to know Angie would have been a bad one."

  "Lots of people are bad at gambling, but they still enjoy it, and they go back, time after time," Helen said. "That's what makes the gaming industry so lucrative for the owners of the casinos."

  Betty shook her head. "Angie wouldn't have gone back after the first time she lost money. She's generous with her time and donations to charities, and I can't begin to calculate what she spends on covering her shirts and shoes with rhinesto
nes, but she can be cheap too. She doesn't like to spend money on frivolous things. She considers staying within a budget to be part of her job as a homemaker, and she takes it very seriously. I can't see her throwing money away on a game where the odds are against her."

  "Now that you mention it," Josie said, "I remember what happened when we invited her to a bingo game here once. She went a little crazy. You'd have thought we were asking her to participate in some sort of satanic blood ritual."

  "Exactly," Betty said, "she lectured everyone about how she was a devout United Methodist, and gambling was sinful. Angie went on and on about money being the root of all evil and how anyone who gambled was more in love with money than with God, and they were surely going to hell. I tried to tell her our bingo prizes weren't money or anything that was worth much, just silly little things. We all donate stuff we have lying around unused or skills we're willing to share. Josie likes to give manicures with bright nail polish, and I usually share the cookies my family sends me, so I'm not tempted to eat the whole batch."

  "There's no harm in manicures or cookies," Josie said. "But Angie went ballistic."

  "I'm telling you, Angie would never go to a casino to gamble," Betty said. "It's more likely she'd take a hatchet to a roulette wheel, like an anti-gambling version of Carrie Nation."

  "Angie's religion probably frowns on drinking too," Josie said. "We just didn't hear about it because there's never anything good to drink here. Forget about a daily glass of wine—we can't even get soda with caffeine in it."

  "Angie might not be a gambler, but she's been to a casino at least once before," Helen said. "I saw a picture. She went with her husband and sister."

  "Ralph and Charlene went on a trip together?" Betty said. "That must have been…intense."

  Helen nodded. "It looked that way from the picture. But they were definitely together at a casino, and Charlene said Angie liked it there. Why would Charlene lie about it? Everyone says she and her sister were close."