P is for Peril Read Free

daughters get along with Crystal?”
    â€œFine, I suppose. Then again, what choice do they have? If they don’t dance to her tune, she’ll make sure they never see their father or their half-brother again. You know Dow and Crystal have a son? His name is Griffith. He just turned two.”
    â€œI remember mention of the boy. May I call you Fiona?”
    She took another drag of her cigarette and placed it on the lip of the ashtray in front of her. “I’d prefer Mrs. Purcell, if it’s all the same to you.” Smoke trailed from her mouth as she spoke and she seemed to study it, bemused.
    â€œYes, well. I’m wondering if you have a theory about your ex-husband’s disappearance.”
    â€œYou’re one of the few who’s even bothered to ask. Apparently, my opinion is of no concern. I suspect he’s in Europe or South America, biding his time until he’s ready to come home. Crystal thinks he’s dead—or so I’ve heard.”
    â€œIt’s not so far-fetched. According to the papers, there’s been no activity on his credit cards. There’s been no sign of his car and no sign of him.”
    â€œWell, that’s not quite true. There’ve been a number of reports. People claim to have spotted him as far away as New Orleans and Seattle. He was seen getting on a plane at JFK and again south of San Diego, heading for Mexico.”
    â€œThere are still sightings of Elvis. That doesn’t mean he’s alive and well.”
    â€œTrue. On the other hand, someone fitting Dow’s description tried to cross into Canada but walked away when the immigration officer asked to see his passport, which is missing, by the way.”
    â€œReally. That’s interesting. The papers didn’t mention it. I take it the police have followed up?”
    â€œOne can only hope,” she remarked. There was something hollow in her tone. If she could only persuade me, then perhaps what she said would turn out to be true.
    â€œYou’re convinced he’s alive?”
    â€œI can’t imagine otherwise. The man has no enemies and I can’t conceive his being the victim of ‘foul play, ’ ” she said, forming the quote marks with her fingers. “The idea’s absurd.”
    â€œBecause?”
    â€œDow’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself—physically, at any rate. What he’s not capable of doing is facing the problems in life. He’s passive. Instead of fight or flight, he lies down and plays dead— in a manner of speaking. He’d rather do anything than deal with conflict, especially involving women. This goes back to his mother, but that’s another story altogether.”
    â€œHas he done anything like this before?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, he has. I tried to explain this to the police detective. In vain, I might add. Dowan’s done this twice. The first time, Melanie and Blanche were—what?—probably only six and three. Dowan disappeared for three weeks. He left without warning and returned much the same way.”
    â€œWhere’d he go?”
    â€œI have no idea. The second time was similar. This was years later, before we separated for good. One day he was here; the next, he was gone. He came back a few weeks later without a murmur of explanation or apology. Naturally, I’ve assumed this recent disappearance was a repeat performance.”
    â€œWhat prompted his departure on those earlier occasions?”
    Her gesture was vague, smoke trailing from the tip of her cigarette. “I suppose we were having problems. We usually were. At any rate, Dow kept saying he needed time to clear his head—whatever that means. One day soon after that he simply didn’t come home. He’d canceled his appointments, including social engagements, all without a word to me or to anyone else. The first I became aware was when he failed to arrive for dinner. The second