V Is for Vengeance

to report.”
    “Understood. You can’t call the police because someone’s drawing the blinds,” I said. “When your husband comes home, would you ask if he has anything to add?”
    “I’ll ask, but he won’t be much help. I was the one who dealt with Audrey. She was a nice woman, by the way. I thought her schedule was odd, but aside from that, I had no quarrel with her.”
    “My client’s in the same boat,” I said. “If you think of anything else, would you give me a call? My office number’s on my card and my home phone’s on the back.”
    “Of course. I hope you’ll let me know what you learn.”
    “I’ll do that, and thanks for your help.”
    I returned to my car and fired up the engine. I pulled out of the cul-de-sac and turned right on Edna Road. I kept an eye on the rearview mirror, and once I was out of sight of the house, I pulled onto to the berm and took the pack of index cards from my shoulder bag. I wrote down what I’d learned, which didn’t amount to much. Audrey Vance was a cipher and as such, she was getting on my nerves. When I finished making notes, I put the car in gear and returned to the 101, arriving in Santa Teresa at 1:05. While the trip felt like a waste of time, I didn’t write it off altogether. Sometimes coming up with nothing is a form of information in itself.
    I stopped by Marvin’s on my way through town, hoping he’d be home. He answered my knock with a paper napkin tucked under his chin. He removed the napkin and crumpled it in one hand. “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
    “I’m interrupting your lunch.”
    “Not at all. Come on in.”
    “I wondered if you’d had a chance to scare up the old phone bills.”
    “I pulled the file. Have you had lunch?”
    “I’ll grab something on my way back to the office.”
    “You should have a bite to eat. I made a big pot of soup. Chicken noodle with lots of fresh vegetables thrown in. I vary the soup from week to week depending on what looks good at the farmer’s market. We can talk in the kitchen.”
    “A man of talent,” I remarked.
    “I’d reserve judgment if I were you.”
    I waited while he closed the front door, then followed him into the kitchen with its bright yellow breakfast nook. He turned the gas up under the six-quart stockpot and took a bowl from the cabinet. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”
    “Tap water’s fine.”
    “I’ll take care of it. You sit and relax.”
    He put ice in a glass and filled it at the kitchen sink. He took out a paper napkin and a soup spoon, then ladled soup into a bowl, which he carried gingerly from the stove with a shy smile. He seemed happy to have company. In the center of the table he’d put a jumble of wildflowers in a jar, and I had the sudden sense of what a nurturing man he was. I felt badly about Audrey’s deceit. He deserved better.
    The soup was rich and dense. “This is wonderful,” I said.
    “Thanks. It’s a specialty of mine, just about the only one I have.”
    “Well, it’s a good one,” I said. “Do you bake?”
    “Biscuits, but that’s it.”
    “I’ll have to introduce you to my landlord, Henry. He’s William’s younger brother. I suspect the two of you would have lots to talk about.”
    When I’d eaten, Marvin insisted that I sit while he washed the dishes and set them in the rack.
    I filled him in on my visit to Audrey’s house in San Luis. “You could have made the trip yourself,” I said. “I know you were worried about the impact, but there were no surprises. The place was bare.”
    “Was it nice?”
    “Nice? No, it was a dump. Small wonder Audrey liked living with you.”
    “What about an address book? Any sign of it?”
    “There was nothing personal at all.”
    “That seems odd,” he said. “Hang on a minute and I’ll go get the phone bills.”
    He left the kitchen and returned moments later with a file folder that he placed on the table in front of me. “I hope you don’t mind but I went over them myself. This past month, she made two calls to Los Angeles; three to Corpus Christi, Texas; and one to Miami, Florida. Same thing in January and February. If there were other calls, they must have been in the 805 area code.”
    “Too bad.” I ran an eye down the list of numbers. Marvin had put a checkmark beside calls he ascribed to her. “Have you tried calling these?” I asked.
    “I thought I’d leave it to you. I’m not that good at thinking on my feet. I get