Glossed and Found

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Glossed and Found Page 7

by India Ink


  “I don’t know.” Amy shrugged. “We couldn’t afford to buy anything new, so I have no idea what she’d been planning on wearing. We didn’t have a lot of free time to sit around discussing fashion, not with all that’s been going on lately.”

  Feeling rebuked, I concentrated on the Danish. When Kyle came back, both Amy and I snapped to attention. But the look on his face didn’t lend itself to comfort.

  “One of my boys found Lisa’s car,” he said. Amy gasped and instinctively reached for my hand. I held tight, bracing her as I wondered if Lisa was in the car. If so, then something must have happened, or Kyle would have just said, “We found Lisa.” But he was quick to put our immediate fears to rest.

  He held up his hand, shaking his head. “Don’t go to pieces on me. She wasn’t in it. The car’s locked, in a parking lot down by Lookout Pier. Let’s take a ride down there and see what we can find out. Do you have a spare key to her car? We’ll want to get inside.”

  “Yes, I do,” Amy said. She retrieved the key, then set her phone to forward to her cell, just in case Lisa called home, and we took off. Amy rode with Kyle, and I followed behind in my car.

  Lookout Pier was on a sand spit, much like Lighthouse Spit, but was off the beaten path and didn’t attract as many tourists. While the walkway that ran out over the bay was well traveled during the summer, hardly anybody used it during the winter months. For one thing, no restaurant or coffee shop had sprung up next to it yet, so the joggers and early morning walkers didn’t have a retreat from the weather or a place to grab coffee after they’d gotten their fill of exercise. For another, Lookout Pier was harder to get to. The bus ran directly to Lighthouse Spit but stopped a good walk down the road from Lookout Pier. So unless arriving by car, it wasn’t an easy jaunt.

  As I eased into the parking lot behind Kyle, I noticed a pale blue Honda Civic in the corner of the parking lot. As I climbed out of my car and pulled my jacket tighter against the wind that was whipping up whitecaps out on the water, I saw that another police car was parked near the Civic, and two officers whom I recognized by face but not by name were sitting inside. When they saw Kyle walking over, they jumped out of the patrol car. I took my place beside Amy, and she gave me a grateful smile.

  “What have we got?” Kyle asked. “This is Lisa’s sister, by the way. Amy Tremont.” I could tell by the emphasis in his words that he was tipping them that a relative was listening, just in case they’d found anything darker between the time they called him and now. “You boys remember Persia Vanderbilt? She’s Amy’s friend.” They nodded at me, and I nodded back.

  Amy produced the key, and Kyle took it, cautiously opening the doors. Nothing inside looked like a struggle had taken place. While they searched the car and trunk— which was thankfully devoid of any sign of violence—Amy and I walked over to the water’s edge. She stared at the dark waves crashing against the surf.

  “What was Lisa doing here?” she said. “She’s terrified of the water. She’d never come to a beach without a damned good reason.”

  “I agree.” In fact, I’d been thinking the same thing. I could barely get her to walk around a swimming pool with lifeguards nearby and me by her side. I glanced back at the cops. One of them—Kyle had introduced him as Tim Grady—was walking along the pier. The wooden plank leading out to the main walkway was open to the water, which swelled just feet below it. During the summer, jet skiers could pull up to it and clamber onto land easier that way.

  I looked at Kyle, who was gazing out at the water, and had a nasty feeling which way his thoughts were headed. He caught me staring at him and walked over to where we were standing.

  “There’s nothing in the car to indicate what she’d been planning. Her purse and keys are gone.” He shaded his eyes and looked at the pier again. “I think we’d better get a search and rescue team out here pronto.”

  Amy paled and shook her head. “Lisa wouldn’t walk out on the pier—there’s no way she’d ever set foot on it. She’s too afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Kyle asked, frowning. “Afraid of what?”

  “Lisa has hydrophobia, Kyle. She’s terrified of water. I can verify that, because I’ve been working with her to help her overcome her fear. She wouldn’t have willingly gone for a walk on the pier any more than you’d catch me walking down the aisle in a white dress. Seriously, get that thought out of your head and find some other clue to go on.” My eyes narrowing, I gave him a shaded look. Kyle was a good man, but he lacked foresight and tended to latch on to the easiest answer that entered his mind.

  He arched his eyebrows but merely said, “Nevertheless, we’d better get SAR out here now. Who knows? She may have decided to tackle her fear head-on. People do that, you know.” As he strode back to his cruiser to call for a team, Amy turned to me, her face a mask of white.

  “He didn’t hear a word we said, did he?” she asked incredulously.

  “Amy,” I said, stepping cautiously around the potential landmines inherent within the conversation, “Kyle is a good man, and he’s good at his job. I suppose he has to check out the most obvious possibilities before excluding them.” I bit my lip, wondering how far to go, but decided that was enough for the moment and might actually give her some hope.

  By the time the search and rescue crew arrived, we were all soaked through. The rain had turned into a steady drizzle, saturating the air and everything exposed to it. Three teams of young volunteers arrived, and Kyle set them to scouring the pier. A dive team soon followed, and I led Amy back to my car, where we sat protected from the cold while they did their work.

  “This isn’t happening,” she said. “It can’t be. Lisa didn’t drown; I tell you, she wouldn’t go near the water.”

  I thought about the storm the night before and how it had raged while we were at the Gala. Whatever reason Lisa had for coming down here, I knew it wasn’t a walk on the pier. No sane person would brave weather that bad for a walk, and she wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders when it came to open water. No, she must have had a different reason for showing up here. Could she have been meeting somebody? But who?

  Obviously, by what she’d written in the note she’d left me, Lisa expected to learn something about their father’s money. But that could mean many things. She might have been planning on talking to somebody, or just digging up information at the library for all I knew. Or perhaps she’d never meant to come here at all. Maybe somebody brought her here. There could be a dozen reasons why her car was found in this parking lot, but most of them didn’t offer any comfort.

  I turned back to Amy. “Did Lisa have any enemies? Anybody who was really mad at her?”

  Amy shook her head. “Not that I know of. She broke up with a guy a few months ago that she’d been seeing for about three months. His name was Shawn Johnson. I don’t think it was a bad breakup, but I could be wrong.”

  Just then, Kyle tapped on the window. I rolled it down, and he poked his head inside. “Hey, we’re going to be awhile here, sifting through stuff. Do you mind if I keep the keys to her car so we can run it in to the station to thoroughly check it out for evidence?” Amy shook her head. I could tell she was both afraid and uncertain what to do next.

  I spoke up. “Kyle, why don’t I take Amy home now? You can call her if anything shows up, and it won’t do any good for us to be out here waiting. I honestly doubt if you’re going to find anything near the water.”

  Kyle glanced at Amy’s face, then nodded, a grateful look in his eyes. “If you would, that might be best. I’ll call as soon as I find out anything,” he told Amy. “Will you be okay if Persia takes you home?”

  Amy nodded, and I could tell she was just letting us direct her like a marionette at this point. I gave Kyle a little wave and eased out of the parking lot, speeding back to Driftwood Lane. Amy was silent, and I didn’t interrupt her thoughts.

  When I pulled into the driveway, I turned to Amy as she put her hand on the door handle. “We’ll find out what happened to her, Amy. Maybe she just t
ook off on the spur of the moment with a friend. Sometimes people do things out of character. I know it won’t do any good, but please, don’t worry too much until we know for sure what’s going on.”

  Her lips twisted in a painful grimace, she squinted, and I saw a single tear glinting at the corner of her eye. I had the feeling Amy relied more on Lisa than the other way around. “Would you like me to stay with you for awhile?”

  She pushed open the door and slid out. “No, but thanks, Persia. I appreciate the offer. I’ll call you when we find out something.”

  Feeling helpless and wishing I could do more, I gave her a little wave as I headed back home to Moss Rose Cottage. Where the hell was Lisa? And why had she left her car on a beach—one of the few places I knew she wouldn’t be caught dead?

  Kane was gone by the time I walked through the door. Auntie was reading the newspaper over a pot of tea. I fetched a cup and saucer from the cabinet and slid in opposite her at the table. The curtains were open, showing rough water cresting against the shoreline. The rain had backed off, but the wind was still cold. So much for parties and galas, I thought. Thanksgiving was coming up, and we should be planning dinner, but right now that was the last thing on my mind.

  “What happened, Imp? You look worried.” She poured me a cup of tea, and I squeezed a slice of lemon over the cup, stirring gently. A plate of Barbara’s Russian tea cakes sat next to the teapot, and I bit into one, savoring the melt-in-your-mouth taste of nuts and powdered sugar.

  “Lisa’s missing.” I hadn’t even told her about having to take over Lisa’s station yesterday, I realized. I hadn’t wanted to spoil the mood of the dance. With a sigh, I launched into the events of the past twenty-four hours. At first, Auntie was indignant when I told her about Lisa’s note and the extra work, but her irritation quickly turned into concern when I concluded with the locked car on the beach and the fact that nobody had seen Lisa since she’d walked out of Venus Envy’s doors the day before.

  “Heaven’s mercy.” Auntie stared at her cup, frowning. “Do you think she’s okay?”

  It was a question that I really didn’t want to consider. It was one thing to say that I didn’t think she’d gone anywhere near enough the water to drown, but quite another to say that I thought she was okay. I’d put on a game face for Amy, but now, alone with Auntie, I let down my guard.

  “Honestly? I don’t know, but considering that they’ve found her car and it was locked, that everything of importance seems to be gone from inside it, that it was found in an area that Lisa would never think of going by herself . . . it doesn’t look good, does it?”

  “Could she have been carjacked? Did she have anything valuable with her?” Auntie finished her tea and reached for the teapot.

  “Well, I gave her my old Marc Jacobs handbag a couple of weeks ago. That could be worth up to three or four hundred on eBay, but honestly, I doubt if Lisa had anything else that was worth much, except the car itself, and that we found.”

  Taking my tea, I stood up, walking over to look out the windows at the fading afternoon. “Add in the fact that she was investigating something as touchy as the loss of her father’s money and . . . I don’t know. Nothing adds up. Maybe she really did run off for the weekend with some guy like I suggested to Amy and Kyle. It wasn’t her current boyfriend though, because he called last night and left a message, asking where she was and why she hadn’t called to cancel if she wasn’t planning on going to the dance with him.”

  “If she did step out with someone, then she’ll return home and feel bad about how badly she scared her sister.” Auntie sighed, then said, “Imp, there’s nothing you can do right now. However, this brings up an uncomfortable discussion regarding Venus Envy. With Lisa missing, we have to hire someone to take over her station until she comes back.” She gave me a look that told me she thought I was going to protest.

  “Oh hell, I hadn’t even thought of that,” I said. “It almost feels like turning traitor, doesn’t it? After all, Lisa’s missing, and we don’t know if she’s okay or lying in a ditch somewhere, dead.”

  “Imp, this is one of those uncomfortable times when your personal feelings are going to feel at odds with owning a store. Sometimes, you have to push worry to the side, at least when it comes to business. The shop won’t wait for us to find Lisa, wherever she might be.”

  “Yeah,” I said after a moment. “I know you’re right.” I let out a long sigh as I rummaged in the refrigerator for something to eat. All I’d had for the day was a Danish over at Amy’s and a few of the Russian tea cakes. Sugar might taste good, but it wasn’t about to cut it for the rest of the day. I found a leftover container of lasagna and popped it in the microwave, then poured myself a glass of orange juice. As the food heated, I turned back to Auntie, who was waiting for my answer.

  “What if we call Maxine and ask her if she wants a temporary job?” Maxine had come in second for the job when we interviewed. She’d almost had it, but Lisa’s experience was a little better. “I already called Betsy Sue, Killian’s former receptionist. She’s going to help Tawny at the counter.” I retrieved my lasagna and a fork and sat down at the table, digging into the cheesy dish.

  Auntie folded her newspaper and propped her elbows on the table. “Persia, I’ll make a businesswoman out of you yet. Good idea. I’ll tell you what, I’ll call Maxine, since you called Betsy.” She pushed herself out of her chair and headed toward the den. “And Persia, why don’t you take a break for the rest of the afternoon? You’ve been working so hard. Go read a book or work out.”

  I glanced down at my feet, where Beauty was curled. “Have the dogs been walked yet?”

  When Auntie said no, I whistled. Their toenails clattered on the kitchen floor as they rushed in. They crowded around, looking excited but minding their manners.

  Beauty, Beast, and Pete were generally well behaved, with only a few lapses.

  “Where’s your leash? Find your leash!”

  They ran off toward the utility room, then came scurrying back, each one holding a leash in its mouth. I ruffled Beauty’s head as I attached her lead, then Pete’s, and then the Beast’s. The Beast was some bizarre mix with a face only a mother could love, but he was all heart.

  Pete was getting up in years for a dog, and I’d noticed he was slowing down a bit over the past month or so. Time for a vet check.

  And Beauty was our beautiful, delicate black cocker spaniel who knew what her name meant and reminded us with every winsome glance that she was the fairest of them all. I slipped on a suede jacket, a pair of gloves, and then, leashes and dogs firmly in hand, we headed out the door and down the porch.

  The clouds were roiling overhead, and a sniff of the air told me we were in for it later. I was born with a heightened sense of smell, which both helped and hindered my work. Some days I was overwhelmed by the multitude of scents floating past my nose, and other days it was as if I could discern to the smallest ingredient that went into a blend. Most gifts were double-edged swords, when I thought about it.

  Once we crossed Briarwood Drive and the path leading through the rocks and driftwood that littered the upper part of the shore, I took the leashes off and let the dogs run. They were well trained; we could trust them not to run in the road, though we never let them out unsupervised unless they were in the backyard, which was thoroughly enclosed.

  Beauty and Beast went bounding down the shore while Pete walked sedately by my side. He was aging; I could feel it. I also knew that it would tear Auntie up when he crossed the Bridge. I knelt beside him and ran my hands over his sides, checking him out for any suspicious lumps or growths—anything out of the ordinary—but he seemed right as rain. Still, a vet trip wouldn’t hurt. My guess was a mild case of arthritis.

  “What do you think, Pete? You think that Lisa went for a walk on the pier by herself?” I looked down at him, and he barked once. “I don’t think so, either.” An array of twigs and branches dotted the shore, and I chose one at random and threw it as hard as I could. Pe
te looked up, and I nodded. “Go get it, boy. Take your time.” He trotted off, slower than either Beauty or the Beast, but looking as proud as he always did when he brought back his quarry.

  During the summer I’d taken to coming down to the beach early in the morning and spending thirty minutes meditating in the early light of dawn. I even brought my yoga mat a few times and ran through my routine by the water’s edge, the brine-soaked air invigorating me as could no other stimulant. I loved being outdoors, and winter was always a struggle with my inner beach bum.

  The waves rolled in with a veiled sense of threat, daring me to come join their dance. I slowly approached the edge of the water, keeping a few feet away as the spray pelted my face. The waves encroached a little farther with each thundering roll. I held my breath as the surf kissed my feet and then, just before the next assault coiled around my ankles, I jumped back a couple steps, playing catch me if you can with the leading edge of the water.

  “Did you come back for Lisa?” I whispered to the waves. “Did you come to finish what you started when she was a little girl? Do you know where she is?”

  But the water remained silent, a relentless drive toward the shore. Feeling insignificant and powerless in the face of such a force, I turned abruptly and joined the dogs. We played a few more rounds of fetch, and then, with one last glance at the bay, I whistled to the dogs, fastened their leashes, and headed back to the house. As we crossed the road, I noticed that we had company. Barbara’s car was in the driveway. Had I forgotten a date for dinner? Or was she just dropping by? Jogging lightly, I took the stairs two at a time, the dogs beside me, and opened the door.

  As we entered the house, I unhooked the dogs, and they took off for the kitchen in search of a snack. I slid out of my jacket, hung it in the hall closet, then followed the sound of Barbara’s voice. She was sitting in the kitchen with Auntie, a stricken look on her face. Her makeup was smeared, and she was holding a crumpled tissue in her hand. Auntie looked up at me and shook her head, warning me that whatever had happened, it wasn’t good.

 

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