J. Jance - Edge of Evil

All through the search, Ali had envisioned finding some cute and helpless little kitten-like puffball. When Matt dragged Sam from her hidey-hole, she turned out to be a fifteen-pound heavyweight tabby cat with a raggedy torn ear and one missing eye. She may have been ugly as sin, but she purred mightily once Julie hefted her onto the couch and let her curl up in her lap.

Mindful of the fact that Sam didn’t like strangers, and not wanting to provoke another disappearing act, Ali stayed on the far side of the room. “Does she mind riding in cars?” Ali asked.

“She hates it,” Julie said.

Great! Ali thought.

“But we have a cat carrier,” Matt offered. “Mom uses it when she takes Sam to the…” Looking stricken, he stopped suddenly when he realized what he’d said and knew that his mother wouldn’t be taking Sam anywhere ever again. “It’s out in the garage,” he finished lamely. “I’ll go get it.”

Straightening his shoulders, he headed for the kitchen and the door that led to the attached garage. Watching him fight back tears and struggle to maintain his dignity as he walked away, Ali felt her heart constrict.

I’m in way, way over my head! she told herself. What on earth am I doing here?

When Reenie’s parents showed up, Ali was shocked by their appearance. Ed and Diane had to be about the same age as Ali’s own parents, but they seemed far older and, when it came to Ed, far frailer as well. Remembering what Bree had said about Ed having had heart bypass surgery, Ali wasn’t too surprised when Diane directed her gray-faced husband to have a seat in the living room while she oversaw getting Matt and Julie and their possessions loaded into the car.

“Your children aren’t supposed to die first,” Ed Holzer said, repeating a sentiment Ali had heard from her first in-laws. Ed wasn’t looking at Ali when he spoke. He seemed to be addressing the universe in general.

“No,” Ali agreed. “They’re not.”

“You were her friend, Ali,” he said quietly. “Do you think Reenie killed herself?”

The question caught Ali by surprise.” No,” she answered. “I don’t think she did.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t think she’d drive herself off a cliff without telling her kids good-bye,” Ali answered.

“Neither do I,” he said. “Everybody else says I’m way off base here-Bree, Diane, Howie, the cops-but I don’t think she’d just give up that way without a fight. And I don’t think she did.”

Ali waited for Ed to say more, but he didn’t.

“How long did the doctors say she had?”

Ed shrugged. “All she ever told me was two to five years after diagnosis.”

“And her diagnosis was when?”

“She just got a final confirmation last week,” Ed said. “Evidently her back started bothering her late last fall, but I had just had my heart bypass then, and she never mentioned it to anybody. She just toughed it out. She didn’t want to do anything that would upset the holidays. She finally went to the doctor sometime in January.”

“So this was early, then?” Ali asked.

Ed nodded. “Way early,” he replied.

“Has anyone talked to her doctor?” Ali asked. “The one she saw before she disappeared?”

Ed shrugged. “I’m sure Howie has,” he said. “And probably the cops have. Why?”

“I’d like to know what exactly he told her,” Ali replied. “Maybe her ALS was progressing faster than anyone knew.”

“Maybe,” Ed agreed. “But still…”

He seemed ready to say something more, but thought better of it.

“Still what?” Ali asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

About then the loading process came to a screeching halt. Matt stomped back into the living room, shouting over his shoulder in his grandmother’s direction, “I didn’t want to go in the first place. If Sam can’t go with us, I’m not going either!”

Diane followed Matt into the house, trying to reason with him. “Look, Matt,” she said. “You know very well that your grandfather’s allergic to cats. Under the circumstances, I’m sure your father is capable of taking care of Samantha.”

“No, he isn’t,” Matt insisted. “He doesn’t even like her. The only way Mom convinced him to let us keep her was if we promised to take care of her so Dad wouldn’t have to.”

“This is different,” Diane said. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Besides,” Matt added stubbornly. “Why do we have to go with you anyway? Why can’t we just stay here with Dad?”

“Because your father wants you with us,” Diane returned. Her voice was firm, but she also sounded tired and exasperated.

“I’ll take care of Sam,” Ali offered. The words were out of her mouth before she even considered what she was saying.

Gratitude flooded Matt’s young face. “Would you?” he asked. “Really.”

“Sure,” Ali said. “No problem.”

Once Ed and Diane Holzer finished loading the kids and took off for Cottonwood, Ali stuck Samantha and her cat carrier into the back of the Cayenne. The moment the carrier hit the floorboard, Sam started screeching bloody murder. Ali wanted to wait around long enough to talk to Howie, but with everyone gone, there was no way to hang around the house. Feeling at loose ends and with no real purpose in mind, Ali drove to Reenie’s old office.

The Flagstaff branch of the YWCA was located in part of a strip mall on South Milton Road just south of Northern Arizona University. NAU, hungry for useable real estate, had gobbled up the YW’s previous location, and Reenie had masterminded the move to a more modern space that included a day-care center, an exercise room, and a complex of conference and counseling rooms as well as administrative offices. There were children and teachers visible inside the building, but the brightly colored playground equipment, sitting in a fenced side yard and covered with dingy snow, looked abandoned and forgotten.

Seeing all Reenie had accomplished put a lump in Ali’s throat. Reenie was responsible for all of this. When the creaky old building had been sold, conventional wisdom had said that the YWCA in Flagstaff should probably fold its tent and disappear as well, but Reenie Bernard was too much of a fighter to simply close up shop. Instead, she had masterminded a major capital fund-raising campaign that had, in a few short years, made this new building and all its programs possible.

But is it solid enough to continue without her? Ali wondered. There was no way to tell that right then.

Walking inside, Ali found Andrea Rogers, Reenie’s receptionist, staring blankly at her computer screen. “I thought I’d come by and check on you,” Ali said. “How’re you doing?”

Ali had met Andrea on previous occasions. She was a frumpy, never-married woman in her late fifties who had worked for the Flagstaff branch of the YWCA all her adult life. She had been Reenie’s right-hand helper for years.

Andrea reached for a nearly empty Kleenix box sitting next to her keyboard. “It’s all so awful that I still can’t believe it,” she said tearfully. “I have to come in and keep the doors open. I’m so sick at heart that I’d rather be home in bed. But I can’t. The day care has to stay open and so do we, but I can’t imagine how we’ll get through this.” She paused and took a deep breath. “How are Reenie’s kids?”

“Not too good,” Ali said. “Reenie’s parents took them to Cottonwood for a few days.”

“And Howie?” Andrea asked. “How’s he?”

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I think he’s okay,” Ali told her.

“Have they found a note?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They’ll find one,” Andrea said confidently. “They’re bound to. She wouldn’t do such a thing without saying something to the people she was leaving behind.”