Once Bitten (A Melanie Travis Mystery) by Laurien Berenson Page B

appreciate your taking the time to talk to me.”
    “You’re welcome. Look, when you find Sara, tell her I was worried about her, okay?”
    “Sure.”
    Maris walked me to the door. Her expression was grim. “Yesterday I was so mad at Sara I could have strangled her. Now all I can think is that I hope she didn’t do something desperate. She wouldn’t just duck out on her friends without leaving word with somebody. If Sara’s disappeared, then something’s very wrong.”
     
    From Maris’s house I wound my way across the back roads through Silvermine to New Canaan. Though Bertie had spoken to Sara’s parents on the phone, I figured it couldn’t hurt to stop by and see them in person. Now that another two days had passed without word from their daughter, maybe they’d be more concerned.
    I called ahead from the car to make sure they were home. Delilah Waring sounded surprised, and not entirely pleased, to hear from yet another friend of Sara’s; but I kept dropping Aunt Peg’s name into the conversation until she agreed to see me for a few minutes. I told her I was on my way.
    Ten minutes later, I was parked out front. A housekeeper showed me to the library, where I was offered refreshment and told that Mrs. Waring would be with me shortly.
    Another ten minutes passed before Delilah came gliding into the room. I’d expected to hear her coming; assumed that her entrance would be preceded by the sound of Shelties barking, playing, accompanying their mistress in her daily routine. But to my surprise, Delilah was alone. Maybe she was one of those people who didn’t like the thought of dogs shedding all over her expensive furniture.
    Like a meticulously groomed Sheltie being paraded before the ringside, Delilah Waring presented herself beautifully. Judging by Sara’s age, I knew the woman had to be at least fifty; she looked easily a decade younger. Though Delilah was tiny in stature, her presence seemed to fill the entire room. Or maybe she just sucked the air out of it. I could see how Sara might have had a hard time competing with a mother like this.
    “How nice of you to come.” Delilah’s tone was formal. Though we both knew differently, her words implied that my visit had been her idea. She didn’t offer to shake hands, but instead waved her slender fingers toward an austere-looking couch. “Please sit down. Polly will bring us tea in a moment.”
    I’d barely found a spot to perch before Delilah began to speak. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand why you’re here. Something about Sara? I try not to get too involved in my daughter’s escapades. Whatever it is, I think you’d do better to speak to Sara directly.”
    Even though I knew it wasn’t polite to stare, I couldn’t seem to help myself. Bertie had told me she’d talked to Sara’s parents. She must have mentioned her concerns. How was it possible that Sara’s mother didn’t know her daughter had disappeared?
    “Mrs. Waring—”
    She laughed lightly—a skill that seemed eminently suited to hosting garden parties on the back terrace. “Please, dear, call me Delilah. Everybody does.”
    “Delilah.” I found myself leaning forward in my seat, trying to impart a sense of urgency to my words. “I can’t speak with Sara. She’s missing and nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t been seen or heard from since last weekend.”
    “Don’t be silly.” Delilah’s smile never faltered. “Sara isn’t missing. Oh, good, here’s Polly now.”
    I waited impatiently while the housekeeper set a large tray bearing a silver tea set on the coffee table between us and Delilah poured the tea into two delicate china cups. I don’t drink tea if I can help it, but Delilah hadn’t asked for my opinion, and I didn’t offer it. She handed me a cup and I set it down on the end table beside me.
    “Delilah,” I said, trying to draw her attention back to the matter at hand. “Do you know where Sara is?”
    She raised her head, blinked slowly