Found Money - James Grippando [44]
Amy hurried to the closet and dug out her tennis shoes. If Mrs. Duffy was lying and Ryan was still at home, she had to talk to him. If he was really out of town, this was her chance to talk directly to Jeanette Duffy.
It was time for another visit to Piedmont Springs.
The temperature rose as morning turned to afternoon and the mountains gave way to the eastern plains. Five hours on the highway had brought Amy down from an elevation of 5,400 feet to just over 3,000. The typical July humidity and scattered afternoon thunderclouds marked her entry into Prowers County.
Amy knew the way to the Duffy house from her earlier trip, when she had scouted out the family in advance of her meeting with Ryan. Her second trip to Piedmont Springs in a week had her somewhat concerned about her old truck. So long as she traveled by day, however, she felt safe.
She reached the Duffy residence around two o’clock. The Jeep Cherokee she’d seen in the driveway last time was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Ryan really was gone. Another car was in its place, a white Buick. Amy parked right behind it. She drew a deep breath and headed up the walkway toward the front door.
Wind chimes tinkled in the lazy breeze as she climbed the porch steps and knocked lightly. The screen door was locked with a metal latch. The heavy wood door behind it was wide open for ventilation. Through the screen, Amy could see across the living room, almost to the kitchen. Her palms began to sweat as she waited for a response. She had spent the last five hours in the truck rehearsing exactly what she would say—Plan A and Plan B, depending on whether Ryan or his mother came to the door.
Amy was about to knock again when she heard footsteps from inside the house. Actually, it was more of a shuffling sound. Slowly, a large woman came into view. As she crossed the living room, it was clear she was pregnant. Very pregnant.
“Can I help you?” she asked, still shuffling forward.
Amy smiled. She had this notion in her mind that people in small towns always smiled. It was a nervous smile, however, as this woman’s voice didn’t match the voice on the phone. Amy had no Plan C.
“I—uh. Is Ryan here?”
She stopped on the other side of the screen door and caught her breath. “No.”
“Are you—you’re not Jeanette Duffy, are you?”
“I’m Sarah. Ryan’s sister.” She turned decidedly suspicious. “Who are you?”
She thought for a second. Last Friday, she had told Ryan her first name. It would be interesting to know if the name meant anything to his sister. “My name’s Amy.”
“You a friend of Ryan’s?” Neither the tone nor her expression raised a specter of recognition. Apparently Ryan hadn’t told his sister a thing.
“I wouldn’t say I’m a friend, really. To be honest, you might be as much help to me as Ryan. Maybe even more.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It has to do with money. Money that I think may have come from your father.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. Amy noted the reaction. “Can I come inside and talk for a minute?” asked Amy.
Sarah didn’t move, said nothing.
“Just for a minute,” said Amy.
“Let’s talk out here.” The screen door creaked as Sarah stepped onto the porch. She directed Amy to the wicker rocking chair in the corner. Sarah took the hanging love seat swing in front of the window. She looked about as miserable as pregnant-in-July could possibly look.
“I’m listening,” said Sarah. “What money are you talking about?”
Amy wasn’t aware of it, but she was on the edge of her chair. She was apprehensive, unsure of how to play this. She settled on a replay of her meeting with Ryan. “I received a package a few weeks ago. There was money inside. No return address, no card. But