NC-17

by Larissa Reinhart

  I looked at the teens and chewed my nail.

  “Listen, I need to understand Chandler better,” I said. “To figure out the motive for his disappearance, I need to study the victim. When we have a logical motive, we’ll be able to figure out the means for who did this. Does that make sense?”

  They nodded.

  “Walk me through that night.”

  Fred looked at the girls and picked up his phone.

  Exasperated, I snatched his phone from his hand. “Fred, I’m trying to talk to you.”

  He held out his hand. “We’re going to walk you through the night. But I need to ask my mom’s permission first.”

  * * *

  I found Lamar in the donut shop kitchen, wrestling a giant mixer with a screwdriver and a pair of pliers. He set down the pliers and looked over the top of his readers. “I thought you told the kids you needed to spend your time getting new accounts.”

  “I know,” I controlled the frustration seeping into my voice. “But they’re good kids. And they only have me. And I think they’ll pay us. I’m going to talk to their parents. But don’t worry, I’m still working on new clients. And everything else.”

  Lamar kept his eyes steady on me.

  “Now that Giulio is breaking up with Vicki, I don’t have to deal with the wedding. That’s some bonus time. Of course, Vicki doesn’t know that, so she’s getting irritated when I don’t respond to her Outlook invites. And I already did my volunteer community service for the day. Sort of.”

  “I guess that’s good.” I always admired how Lamar steeped his doubt in patience. “Did you hear from Mrs. Price yet? Has she paid up? I saw y’all have some bills due.”

  “Mrs. Price isn’t returning my calls. I think she’s avoiding me,” I said. “But I did steal the missing camper case from Jolene. Although she didn’t want it, so technically I didn’t steal it.”

  “And technically it isn’t a case.”

  “Right. But I do have an in with Jolene’s receptionist now. It’s possible she’ll give me leads without even knowing. If Sienna doesn’t shoot me. Jolene gave her a derringer.”

  Lamar slow blinked.

  “Seriously. I should report Jolene to the police except I don’t want to get Sienna in trouble.”

  Lamar sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “Maizie, have you slept since the bombing?”

  “It’s been kind of hard to sleep with all the tooth fairy snares. I snuck to the kitchen for a water, stepped in one, and found myself tied to the kitchen table until Daddy got up. Luckily, he gets up around four. The girl used some kind of flexible wire.”

  Lamar pushed out of his chair and circled the desk to stand before me. He placed both hands on my shoulders. “Maizie. You need some rest.”

  I shook my head. I still needed to see Detective Mowry about the boot and my bike. And then take the teens fake-camping. But I didn’t want to worry Lamar. He had enough with the shop and worrying about Nash. “I just need more coffee. I’m sorry. I’m babbling.”

  “Why don’t you go home? Or better yet, go upstairs and take a nap. It’s quiet there.”

  “That’s the problem. It’s too quiet. We need clients. I’ll go to Jolene’s office right now. I know I can talk Sienna into giving up some files. And I’ll make Mrs. Price—”

  “Maizie, you’re no good to Nash if you can’t think straight.”

  “Lamar, I can’t sleep, so I might as well work.” I gulped. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Nash in the bank. I just can’t.”

  His lined face grew more furrowed. “Hon’—”

  “It’s okay, Lamar. I can handle it. It’s only been three days. And Nash will wake up soon.”

  * * *

  To placate Lamar and to prevent us from being sued, I called the three’s parents. They agreed to meet immediately at Fred’s mom’s house. Which was “so embarrassing.”

  According to Fred.

  Mrs. Hernandez served polvorones cookies and sweet tea as an after school treat. I immediately liked her.

  “Thanks for meeting with me,” I said, handing out my Nash Security Solutions business cards. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with your kids hiring me to look for Chandler Johnson.”

  Laci’s dad sighed. “It’s their money, I suppose.”

  Off to a good start. They knew an investigation cost money.

  “And don’t worry about them riding with me in a car. I drive a dirt bike.”

  The parents looked at each other.

  “How old are you?” asked Mara’s mom.

  “Twenty-five. I’m an apprentice to the owner, Wyatt Nash. He’s…indisposed. But I have his full support.” I crossed my fingers behind my back. “A little about me, I’ve been working most of my life. Not as an investigator. But I did play one on TV.”

  “TV?” Laci’s dad cocked his head. “Who was your agent? Do they do referrals?”

  “They’re not going to need an actor’s agent,” said Mara’s mom. “An entertainment lawyer would better serve them. Didn’t you hire one to look at their sponsor contracts?”

  “I’m a lawyer,” said Laci’s dad. “I don’t need to hire entertainment law to read a contract.”

  “So, Chandler Johnson.” I segued to get us out from under the excruciating weight of the entertainment industry. “How well did you know him?”

  “I give Chandler props for his vision,” said Laci’s dad. “He’s got a great face for the camera. But I think it’s our kids’ response to Chandler that really makes the show popular.”

  “He did teach them a lot about videography,” said Mrs. Hernandez.

  “That’s nice,” I said, thankful that at least Fred’s mom thought about the victim.

  “But Federico taught Chandler how to do an ad campaign,” she continued. “Fred got ten thousand likes on their last Facebook and Instagram ad. I think he’s really good at choosing clips that go viral.”

  “Mara wrote the copy for that ad,” said Mara’s mom. “And it was her video they chose.”

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “That’s all wonderful. But I’m really interested in Chandler as a person. To, you know, help me find him.”

  “Chandler’s flaky,” said Laci’s dad. “He also knows how to live off the grid. Good luck with that.”

  “I’m going to be pissed if Chandler left to start a new channel,” said Mara’s mom. “We’re invested. He’s the star.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Laci’s dad.

  “NYU’s film school wants current work and Mara won’t be applying for another year. You can’t seriously think they’ll have this kind of popularity without Chandler? He’s got the young male and older woman demographic.”

  “They already know how to do everything on their own,” said Laci’s dad. “Mara’s a great director. Fred knows the tech. And Laci’s something else on the screen.”

  “Do you think Chandler just took off?” I said. A little sadly, I’ll admit.

  “That’s what the police told us. To Mexico.” Mrs. Hernandez curled her lip. “His family said Chandler can be irresponsible like that. If I had known that from the beginning, I don’t think I’d let Fred do this project.”

  “I thought the kids were doing the YouTube thing because they really believe in Bigfoot?”

  “You know kids. They like to geek out.” Mrs. Hernandez turned to Mara’s mom. “Isn’t that what they call it?”

  She nodded. “They certainly do. Mara’s always loved Bigfoot stories. But now she’s able to transition that into a film career. I’m so excited for her.”

  “Back to Chandler,” I said. “Your kids really like him. And — on camera, at least — he seems fond of them. It surprised me that he would ditch the three in the woods. It seems out of character.”

  “It was rude,” said Mrs. Hernandez. “But Fred’s working toward his Eagle Scout badge, so I’m not worried about him. But to leave the girls? And to take off without saying goodbye?”

  “Mara can handle herself,”
said Mara’s mom. “She’s been camping since she was a baby. Just because she’s a girl, doesn’t mean she can’t take care of herself.”

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Hernandez.

  “It’s not a big deal,” said Laci’s dad. “They meet up, do the shoot, then separate. Particularly if someone has homework. I can’t have Laci out all night if she’s got an exam the next day.”

  “They often meet up in the woods and leave each other there?”

  I didn’t want to judge their parenting skills — especially as a non-parent — but I felt judgy. However, I also didn’t understand camping. Or wanting to be in the woods. Or Bigfoot.

  The teens were right about one thing. Nobody else seemed to care about Chandler’s disappearance.

  “Your kids are very concerned,” I said. “I feel like I need some evidence for them — one way or another — to confirm what happened to Chandler.”

  “Federico’s very attached to Chandler,” said Mrs. Hernandez. “He’s like an older brother. But Fred doesn’t understand that sometimes young adults are selfish.”

  They looked at the young adult in the room for confirmation.

  I shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. But —”

  “We appreciate your willingness to help our kids,” said Laci’s dad. “We think it’s a waste of time, but they have their own money available to them. To be honest, I advised against this, but they’re being stubborn.”

  “It can’t interfere with their school work,” said Mara’s mom.

  “If you find him,” said Mrs. Hernandez. “Tell Chandler that he owes them at least a final episode.”

  “They should have signed a partnership contract,” said Mara’s mom. “We can’t threaten to sue now.”

  “We still can,” said Laci’s dad. “We can argue that it was an oral agreement.”

  Poor Chandler, already facing a lawsuit. Unless he was kidnapped and murdered like the kids thought. Then maybe the parents would cut him some slack.

  Twenty-One

  #GrizzlyTeddy #DetectiveDoGooder

  Now that I had secured one case for Nash, I needed to score more. Knowing Sienna’s directive, I approached Sweeney Security Solutions cautiously. Fortunately, Sienna had a customer. Unfortunately, the customer was my former fiancé.

  The first one.

  Before I could escape, a tinkling bell had announced my entrance. Oliver turned from his stance before Sienna’s desk, did a double take from his initial quick glance, and crossed the room in what seemed like one stride. “Maizie, it’s so good to see you.” He stopped a few feet from me, looking unsure as to how to greet me.

  “What are you doing here?” I flicked a glance at Sienna to check for the derringer.

  “I’m helping Vicki. She decided to hold the wedding at the Wellspring Center. Her previous venue didn’t allow elephants. I’m not sure what that means, but we’re happy to accommodate her. This place is providing extra security.”

  Which meant that Jolene would lose the project when Giulio dumped Vicki. I hadn’t thought about that piece of the breakup. I couldn’t help a satisfied smile. “Great.”

  Evidently, Oliver mistook my smile. He stole closer. “Do you want to get a coffee? Just to talk. I found a place that makes great donuts. I know how you love—”

  I quickly shook my head. “No, thank you. I came to talk to Sienna. Hello, Sienna.”

  “Hello, Maizie.” Sienna put her hand beneath the desk.

  “Jolene would not want you shooting me with witnesses present. Did she mention that?”

  “Let me check my notes.”

  “What did you mean, shoot you?” said Oliver.

  “Never mind. I’m working.” I moved around Oliver to approach the desk. Then glanced back. “Actually, Oliver could you stay a few minutes? Don’t get any ideas. Just so Sienna doesn’t shoot me.”

  “Of course.” He wedged his large frame into a chair.

  I turned back to the receptionist desk. “Sienna, I’ve been thinking about that circular file problem you have. Do you have more cases you need help filing?”

  “Actually, I have a bunch,” she said. “Jolene showed me how to do a credit check and if the score doesn’t meet her number, I’m supposed to dump it. Or if the clients don’t photograph well. Unless their credit score is one hundred points above her cutoff.”

  “I’ll take those off your hands.” In my head, I drummed my fingers together and cackled. Jolene’s snobbery would save our business. Outside my head, I kept it cool. “We don’t photograph the client, only the person they want watched.”

  Sienna dropped her voice to a whisper. “Most people who come here don’t photograph well because they’re, you know, old? And they get kind of angry when I ask them to Airdrop me their selfie. They don’t know how to Airdrop. Or selfie. This job is so hard.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  Sienna pulled open a drawer.

  “Please don’t shoot me.” I backed up. “I just thought if you were going to throw them away—”

  Oliver shot out of the chair and darted in front of me. Sweeping an arm behind him, he crushed me into his back, then lunged toward the desk. “Drop it, Sienna.”

  Sienna screamed and dropped the pile of folders on her desk. Her chair rolled backward and hit the wall.

  I peered out from behind Oliver, pushed his arm away, and stepped out. “I’m sorry. When she opens a drawer, I get nervous.”

  Oliver whooshed out a breath and turned to face me. “Man, you scared me.”

  “No, you scared me.” Sienna’s eyes had gone all anime — so large and rounded, they seemed to take up her entire face. “You’re so big and your voice sounded so mean and scary.”

  “His voice is deep,” I said. “It just sounds worse than it is.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt anybody.” Oliver was doing that thing with his face again. Mixing hurt and hope. Making me uncomfortable. “I just want to help. Please, Maizie. Let me make everything up to you. I’ll do anything.”

  “That is so sweet,” said Sienna. “You’re like a teddy bear inside a grizzly bear. Or a polar bear. Except polar bears are so cute. Grizzly bear. And you photograph really well. Super well. You’re actually kind of hot.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Oliver’s been photographing well for a long time. But it’s too late. I have moved on with my life. I’ll just take the files—”

  “But he was willing to take a bullet for you,” said Sienna.

  “Yes, I would,” said Oliver. “And I’d do it again.”

  “Sienna wasn’t going to shoot me, so it doesn’t matter.” I darted to her desk and grabbed the files.

  “I could still shoot you,” said Sienna. “Just to make you see how much he cares about you.”

  “That’s okay. I got the point. Not necessary.” I ran for the door, calling over my shoulder. “Thanks. Glad we could help each other. Later.”

  I wasn’t sure who I hated more. Jolene or the universe.

  * * *

  As much as I wanted to return to the hospital — Not to reassure myself that Nash’s shoulders were bigger than Oliver’s. To get advice on using night vision goggles. — I forced myself to stick to the to-do list. Mrs. Price wasn’t answering her phone, but I wanted to catch Detective Ian Mowry before he left work. I had a boot to deliver. And I could also ask him about night vision goggles. Without having to deduce the answer.

  The Black Pine police station was not my favorite place — it ranked near the bottom of my list, somewhere between the gym and Vicki’s nip and tuck clinic — but at least I wasn’t there to give witness testimony. Or victim testimony. Or suspect testimony. After speaking to the officer behind the bulletproof shield in the waiting room, I only had to wait a minute before Mowry opened the door to the back offices.

  “Maizie.” He grinned. “Good to see you. Come on in.”

  “Thanks, Ian.” I followed him through the door, past the fingerprint/storage room and into a larger room of cubicles. The station buzzed with a
mix of anticipation and tension. Mowry hurried me past groups of officers talking in hushed voices. We took a right down a row of cubicles.

  Ian lowered his voice. “A body was found on Black Pine Mountain. That’s why I’ve been so busy.”

  “What happened? An accident?”

  He shook his head. “Suspicious death. Gunshot. A hiker found the body few days ago.”

  I placed a hand on his arm. “It couldn’t be Chandler Jonson, could it?”

  “No, hon’. Different ethnicity. But we still don’t have an ID. GBI is running his fingerprints for us. We sent him to the bureau in Atlanta for the autopsy.” Ian waved me to a chair by his desk. The cubicle walls were covered with sticky notes and drawings made by his daughter. Adorbs. “But never mind that. What do you have for me?”

  “I found a boot at the Wellspring Center. It feels silly, but it’s newish and was buried in a new flower bed. The teens think they recognize it from the missing camper. Anyway, I just thought I’d hand it over as evidence.” I handed him a shopping bag.

  “I’ll give it to the officer who handled the investigation. He’ll call you later with questions.” Ian placed the bag on his desk. “How’re you doing? How’s Nash?”

  “Still in a coma.” I sighed. “I’m okay. Roger Price’s mother won’t pay us. It’s totally awkward asking for money from a client whose son was arrested for almost killing my boss.”

  “Price is lucky the bomb didn’t hurt anyone else. Nash deserves a medal.” Ian rocked in his chair. “Did the ATF agent tell you they think Price was working with someone?”

  “No.” I frowned. “To us, Roger appeared quite the loner. The typical geeky gamer. Who evidently likes to make bombs and blow people up. His mother thought he was into drugs, but we didn’t even find evidence of that, either.”