S Is for Silence

narrow lot surrounded by a chain-link fence. Both exterior and interior were utilitarian. At a desk just inside the door, there was a secretary-receptionist whose responsibilities probably included typing, filing, coffee making, and walking the sleeping German shepherd beside her desk. “He’s the yard dog,” she said, giving him a fond glance. “May look like he’s sleeping on the job, but he’s called into service once the sun goes down. I’m Babs, by the way. Mr. Wilcox is on a call, but he’ll be right out. You want coffee? It’s already made.”
    “I better not, but thanks.”
    “Well, have a seat in that case.”
    She filled her mug from a stainless steel urn, and once she sat down again, her phone gave a chirp. “That’s him. You can go on in.”
    Calvin Wilcox was in his early sixties, wearing a short-sleeve denim work shirt and jeans belted under a modest swell of abdomen. I could see the outline of a hard-pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. He had thinning red hair and ginger freckles on his arms. His cheeks were wind-burned, which made his green eyes look electrified in the ruddy glow of his face. I knew I was looking at a male variation of Violet’s green eyes and her faux red hair.
    We leaned toward each other across the desk to shake hands. He was a big guy, not tall, but solid. He waited until I sat down and then settled in his swivel chair. He tipped it back in what was probably a typical move, one work boot propped on the edge of his desk. He lifted his arms and laced his fingers above his head, which gave him an air of relaxation and openness I doubted was there. Behind him, on the wall, was a black-and-white photograph of him at a construction site. His hard hat shaded his eyes, while the businessmen on each side were bareheaded and squinting. One held a shovel and I assumed the occasion was a ground-breaking ceremony.
    He smiled, watching me with a certain shrewdness evident in his eyes. “My sister, Violet. Here she comes again.”
    “Sorry about that. I know the subject comes up every couple of years.”
    “I should be used to it by now. What’s that old saying? ‘Nature abhors a vacuum.’ People want closure. Otherwise you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. How long have you worked for Daisy?”
    “Not that long.”
    “I guess she can spend her money any way she wants, but what’s she hope to accomplish?”
    “She wants to find her mother.”
    “Yeah, I get that and then what?”
    “That depends on where Violet is.”
    “Hard to believe it’s still bugging her after all this time.”
    “What about you? Does it bother you?”
    “Not a bit. Violet did what suited her. Her life was her business. She seldom consulted me, and if I offered her advice, she’d turn around and do just the opposite. I learned to keep my mouth shut.”
    “Did she ever talk about Foley beating her?”
    “She didn’t have to talk about it. It was obvious. He broke her nose, broke her tooth, broke two ribs. I don’t know why she put up with it. If she’d wanted out, I’d have helped, but she went back time and time again, so I finally gave up.”
    “Were you older or younger?”
    “Older by two years.”
    “Any other siblings?”
    “Don’t I wish. Parents get old, it’d be nice to have someone to help shoulder the burden. Violet wasn’t about to do it, that’s for sure.”
    “Are your parents still alive?”
    “No. My father had a series of heart attacks in 1951. Three in rapid succession, the last one fatal. The doctors blamed it on a defect he’d carried since birth. He was forty-eight years old. So far I’ve managed to outlive him by thirteen years. Mother died a couple of years ago, at eighty-four.”
    “You’re married or single?”
    “Married. How about yourself?”
    “Single, but my parents are both gone.”
    “You’re fortunate. My mother was in a nursing home for years. Well, let’s call it a ‘facility.’ I wouldn’t label it a home. She used to phone me six and seven times a week, begging me to come get her. Up to me, I’d have done it, but my wife was opposed. She’s a stockbroker. No way would she have given that up in order to take care of Mother. I didn’t blame her, but it was tough.”
    “You have children?”
    “Four boys, all grown and gone. Two live here in town. I got one in Reno and another one in Phoenix.” He took a quick peek at his watch. “You want to ask about Violet, be quick about it. I got a meeting coming