Ardmore Green

by Jeff Siebold

  “The Harts said she wasn’t wearing her collar when she was found,” said Zeke.

  “That’s right. There was no collar.”

  “Any chance someone used a tranquilizer gun on her?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, it’s possible, but I didn’t see any evidence of that. And they take a while to take effect. A half hour or so, best case.”

  “Have the remains been disposed of?” asked Zeke.

  “Yeah, that’s done pretty quickly around here. No need to keep them around.”

  “OK, thanks, Jon. I may call you back if I come across anything that seems odd.”

  “Sure, no problem.” said the Animal Control Officer.

  * * *

  “Where do you think he is?” asked Zeke.

  Tiffany Gordon sat in a chair across from him in her small apartment. “I don’t know,” she said. “That’s why I called you.”

  Zeke nodded. The room smelled like warm dried oranges. There was a couch and a wingback chair in the living room, arranged around a large ottoman that was being used as a table. The room opened into the kitchen, and there was a hallway visible on the other side of the kitchen, presumably leading to the bedroom or bedrooms. The apartment was decorated in a contemporary style, with furniture that could have been rented.

  “When did you hear from him last?” asked Zeke.

  “Not since he disappeared, right around the day we spoke in Roger’s office.”

  “Anne and Amy said he headed for California,” said Zeke. “Have you talked with them?”

  “Yes, but they don’t know where Seth is. Just California, maybe, and somewhere warm enough to surf. They haven’t heard from him either,” said Tiffany.

  “So you want me to track him?” asked Zeke.

  “I’m just worried about him. He doesn’t answer his phone or texts, and he could be anywhere.”

  “There’s a BOLO out on him,” said Zeke. “But it’s a big state, California.”

  Tiffany nodded.

  “There’s also an Amber Alert out for the girl, Carrie,” said Zeke.

  “An Amber Alert? But she wasn’t abducted...”

  “The cops don’t know that. They just know that a fourteen-year-old girl went missing, and she was in the company of an adult male. If they have a description of Seth, they have enough to issue the alert.”

  “My God!” said Tiffany.

  “So you’re right, it will be best to find them before the police do,” said Zeke.

  “How can you do that? How would you narrow it down?” she asked.

  “Well, they’re staying somewhere. The question is, can we track them?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t even know...”

  “Does Seth have any credit cards?” asked Zeke.

  “He has one that his father got for him in case of emergencies,” she said.

  “Well, unless they’re sleeping in the car, they’ve rented a hotel room somewhere.”

  “Roger told me he’s missing a lot of cash from the safe at home,” said Tiffany.

  “Right, they could be using cash to pay for the room, but almost all hotels take a credit card imprint for security. In case of damage to the room, or towel theft, things like that.”

  “Do they run the credit cards? Process them?” she asked.

  “Probably some do and some don’t. But we only need one hotel that did. And also...”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Seth’s smart phone. Carrie has one, too. Those things report your location constantly. If they’re turned on, the service provider should be able to tell us exactly where their phones are located,” said Zeke. “Also, and even simpler, if either of them is taking photos with their phones, the pictures are most likely being geo-tagged before they’re uploaded to social media. We can watch their social media postings to get their latitude and longitude.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” asked Tiffany, rhetorically. She paused. “Do you think that will work?”

  “I’ll call you when we have the results.”

  * * *

  “Carrie’s phone was tracked to the Santa Monica Pier,” said Zeke. “And Roger Gordon’s credit card company showed swipes at a trail of hotels across the country, ending at the Wyndam, about two blocks from the pier. Seems like a good place to start looking.”

  Clive nodded. “We haven’t been hired for this, have we?” he asked Zeke.

  “No, we’re working on the murders. This was just a short excursion, a dalliance to make sure the girl’s safe.”

  “A dalliance,” said Clive, tasting the word.

  “I’ll let Seth’s mother know that we’re close to finding him. And I’ll fly out and talk with Seth to make sure that Carrie’s OK. Then we can tell the Gordons and the McCarthys. It’ll be up to the parents to bring them back home. Well, the mothers. I think Kevin McCarthy has some bigger problems right now.”

  * * *

  Jack Frost’s apartment was located east of Santa Monica along Interstate 10, not far from the USC campus. It was a low-rise development, two stories in height, with a Spanish name. The apartments were arranged around a small courtyard, and there were stairs to the second floor at each end. There was a metal entry gate with razor wire along the top of it.

  Carrie and Seth parked the Saab in the small lot and followed Jack through the locked gate and into a paved area that held several grills and some plastic chairs. There was a concrete table with concrete benches around it; a set of dominoes was arranged on top. No one was in sight.

  “Mostly it’s older people who live here,” said Jack. “They work at the school or drive a bus or work at the post office, that kind of thing.”

  He walked two doors down and put his key in the lock of a first floor apartment and walked in. Seth and Carrie followed him into the unit.

  “Come on in,” said Jack. The apartment was a small box with terrazzo floors and stuccoed walls. The door opened directly into the living room, which connected through an archway to the small kitchen. There was a bathroom adjoining the kitchen, and Seth saw a back door on the far kitchen wall. The couch in the living room was opened up into an unmade bed. A partially clothed girl was lying in it, watching the flat screen television near the far wall. It looked like it was tuned to Jerry Springer.

  “Hey,” she said, looking at Jack, and then quickly back at the screen.

  “Lizzy, this is Carrie and Seth,” said Jack.

  “Hi, Lizzy,” said Carrie. The girl gave her a vague nod, never taking her eyes from the television. She was dressed in a pair of white panties and a tight, yellow t-shirt. She seemed unconcerned about her attire.

  Jack sniffed the air. “Did you get into my stash?” he asked Lizzy.

  “I just smoked some weed,” she said. “That’s all. Here.” She passed the lit joint to Jack, who took a hit, smiled at Carrie and gave it to her. Carrie gave it to Seth when she finished, and he returned it to Lizzy. Lizzy looked to be in her early twenties, but older than Jack, and had short, curly brown hair.

  “So this is what the apartments look like,” said Jack to Seth. “They’re all the same, pretty much.”

  “This looks good,” said Seth, looking around. He walked to the archway and looked into the kitchen.

  “So do you want to talk with the manager?” asked Jack.

  “Sure, let’s go,” said Seth.

  Chapter 42

  “I’m supposed to meet a young man here,” said Zeke with a friendly smile.

  The desk clerk looked up at him helpfully. She was a pretty Latino girl with black hair and deep brown eyes. Her name badge read, “Inez.”

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “He’s about your age, has bushy black hair, and wears glasses. He said he was a guest here.”

  Inez shook her head.

  “Has a strong accent, kind of harsh, nasal, from Philadelphia,” said Zeke.

  A look of recognition crossed her face.

  “Oh, sure, Seth,” she said. “They’ve stayed here a few nights,
now.”

  “Hmm,” said Zeke, looking confused. “Do you think you could call up to them and tell them I’m here?”

  Inez smiled. “I’d be happy to,” she said, as she picked up her desk phone. Zeke watched her dial 520.

  Apparently no one answered the phone in the room.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said Inez. “They don’t seem to be in the room.”

  “OK, well, I’m actually early, so maybe they’re on their way back here. I’ll check back in a bit.”

  “I’ll tell him you were here if I see him,” said Inez.

  * * *

  “We’ll be checking out tomorrow morning,” Seth said to the young desk clerk when they returned to the hotel.

  “OK, sure, check out time is by eleven. Oh, your friend was here looking for you,” said Inez, in her efficient work voice.

  Seth looked at her, confused.

  “Who?” he asked.

  Carrie stood next to him, looking stoned.

  “A blond man with bright blue eyes,” she answered. “He came by a couple hours ago and said he was supposed to meet you here.”

  “I didn’t have a meeting planned with anybody,” said Seth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, then. Maybe I was wrong.” She looked at a note on her desk.

  “No worries,” said Seth. “We’ve gotta go pack.”

  In the room, Seth asked Carrie, “Did that Molly do you any good?” He’d given her a pill on the way back from the apartment to mellow her out and try to make her horny.

  “You know how they make me feel,” she said. “Like I want sex 24/7.”

  “That’s one of the reason’s I like you,” said Seth. “24/7.”

  “Yeah. We should party some. I like the apartment,” Carrie said. “And it’s furnished.”

  The apartment they had rented came equipped with kitchen appliances, a small round table and two chairs, a threadbare sleeper couch and an old television set on a low narrow table. There was an end table next to the couch.

  Seth lit a joint and said, “Take your clothes off, OK?”

  “OK,” she said. She walked over, took the joint from him, and took a long pull on it. Then she handed it back to Seth, sat on his lap and started to take her shirt off.

  There was a sudden knock on the hotel room door.

  “Damn,” said Seth.

  Carrie pulled her shirt back on and buttoned it as she got off Seth’s lap. He handed her the joint and pointed at the bathroom. “Hide in there,” he said.

  She scampered into the bathroom and closed the door, while Seth stepped over to the hotel room door to find out who had knocked. “Yeah?” he said.

  “Hotel security,” said the voice. “Open up, sir.”

  Seth looked through the peephole and saw no one. He unlocked the door.

  Zeke stepped into the room quickly and let the heavy door close behind him.

  Seth stepped back and said, “Hey, hold on!” Then he said, “Wait, I know you.”

  Zeke crowded close to him and said, “Sit,” pointing to the bed.

  Seth sat and said, “Hey, man.”

  Zeke noticed the closed bathroom door and said, “Is Carrie in there?”

  “Yeah,” said Seth. “You’re the guy from my dad’s office.”

  “I am,” said Zeke. Then, to the bathroom door he said, “Come on out, Carrie.”

  Nothing happened for a minute. Then the bathroom door opened a crack and Carrie stepped out, still holding the smoldering joint.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “You know this guy?” asked Seth, getting gradually braver.

  “Yeah, he was at my house when they were looking for Susie. You know, before she...”

  “I talked with him, too,” said Seth. Then, to Zeke, “Why’re you here, man?”

  “I thought I’d check on Carrie,” said Zeke. “Make sure she wants to be here.”

  “She does,” said Seth, a little bit pouty now. He was watching Zeke, trying to decide whether to do something.

  “Relax, Seth,” said Zeke. “I’m leaving. But before I do, tell me what your plans are. What’s next?”

  “We found an apartment,” Carrie blurted out. “We’re staying here together.”

  “Near here?” asked Zeke.

  “Near enough,” said Carrie. “Over by the college, USC.” She sounded like she was bragging.

  “How’d you find us, anyway?” said Seth.

  “Magic,” said Zeke.

  * * *

  They sat at a table in a small restaurant on the pier. Seth and Carrie were eating fish tacos and drinking Coke as Zeke sipped water from a plastic bottle. It’s just not right that water costs more than gasoline, he thought.

  “So why’d you decide to take a trip to California?” Zeke asked.

  “We’ve been talking about it for a while,” said Carrie around a mouthful of taco. “Since our friend moved out here.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Zeke. “Jack Frost?”

  “How do you know about him?” asked Seth.

  “Your sister, Amy. She said she used to date him.”

  “Yeah, he likes older women, I guess,” said Seth.

  “Have you found him out here?” asked Zeke.

  “He’s pretty cool,” said Carrie.

  Seth rolled his eyes.

  “Did the murders influence your decision to come out here?” asked Zeke.

  “No, man, we just needed to get away,” said Seth. “That’s all.”

  “Really? ‘Cuz if you look at it from the outside, it could be that the murders scared you two, that you thought you might be next.”

  “No, we just needed space,” said Seth.

  “I tend to believe you, primarily because Carrie’s father, Kevin, is a part of a gang selling controlled substances. It’s doubtful that he’d hurt his own daughter...but maybe you left because you were worried about him,” Zeke said, looking at Seth.

  Seth shook his head, dismissive.

  Carrie said, “I didn’t even know about that. After Susie died, Dad just hinted that we should get out of town.”

  “He tried to send you away to protect you. He warned you off, got you to go out of town before anyone else could hurt you,” said Zeke.

  “Who’d want to hurt me?” asked Carrie. Her taco was gone and she was shoving french fries into her mouth.

  “Someone could be threatening you to keep him in line,” said Zeke. “He appears to be in charge of a pretty big drug sales operation, but I think he reports to someone else, someone higher up, who could have threatened to kill you to control your dad.”

  “Do you think that’s what happened to Susie and Will?” asked Carrie.

  “Susie’s dad wasn’t involved,” Zeke said. “But it’s possible that Will’s dad was.”

  Seth nodded his head sagely. Then he said, “What are you going to do, man?”

  “I’ve found out what I needed here,” said Zeke. “I’ll be heading back east tomorrow.”

  * * *

  “I like being with you,” Tracy Johnson said.

  “What do you like about it?” asked Zeke. They were sitting together on the sofa in Tracy’s Midtown Atlanta condo, just back from a small plate dinner at a restaurant called the Saltblock. Zeke was sipping a Gray Goose and tonic while Tracy worked on a Cosmopolitan. The atmosphere was relaxed.

  Tracy sat up straighter and made a face, as if she were thinking hard. “Well, let’s see...” she said. “For one thing, you treat me well.”

  “Oh?” said Zeke, playfully.

  “Sure. You open doors for me. You include me in your conversations, you seem to value my input and you care about how I feel,” she continued.

  “I do?” he teased.

  “You know you do,” she said. “And you listen to me. You really listen. That’s a good thing,” she continued.

  She’s happy, he thought. She’s liking this thing we have. Me, too.

  “Can I refresh you?” Zeke asked.

  “I could do one mor
e,” she said, lazily.

  “Before what?” asked Zeke, smiling.

  “Before I start unbuttoning your shirt,” said Tracy.

  “Are your handcuffs nearby?” asked Zeke. “I may need to restrain you.”

  She laughed.

  Zeke got up and refilled their glasses.

  “So what’s your song?” said Zeke from the kitchen.

  “In my head?”

  “Yes, what’s playing on Tracy Johnson radio right now?”

  She paused and smiled. “A version of ‘Don’t Know Why I Didn’t Come’ by Norah Jones.”

  “Sounds nice,” said Zeke. “Mellow and a bit haunting. Nice pick for this evening.” He returned to the sofa, set down the drinks and sat a bit closer to Tracy. “But you probably won’t have that problem,” he said.

  Tracy smiled at him again. “I know.”

  After a moment, she said, “Also, back to treating me well, you make an effort.”

  “I do. And you’re worth the effort,” he added.

  “It seems like a lot to ask, for you to come to Atlanta to see me. But you do it.”

  “I do. Every layover I can arrange. The travel is incidental; seeing you is the good part.”

  “You say the kindest things, sir,” said Tracy.

  “Keeping you happy has become important to me,” said Zeke.

  Tracy smiled and sipped her Cosmo. She set down her empty glass.

  “Let’s go find those handcuffs,” she said.

  Chapter 43

  Clive was being Clive. He was dressed in a gray formal suit and black Brooks Brothers opera pumps. His hair was freshly cut and he looked as if he’d just had a shave. He stood next to Zeke as they looked out his office window. The natural light was dimming outside, inhibited by the gathering clouds. It wasn’t raining yet, but it promised to start soon.

  “You found them, no trouble,” he said.

  “I did,” said Zeke. “We tracked the photos Carrie posted from her smart phone and the number of Seth’s credit card. It was simple after that. My thanks to Sally.”