by Lotta Smith
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I knew Rick was going to leave the FBI someday, as he’d take over USCAB—United States Cover All Bases—as the sole heir to the multibillion-dollar conglomerate, but I didn’t see that coming so soon. Dan was full of energy, looking like he’d be capable of running the conglomerate for the next quarter century. Of course, even Dan can’t live forever and Rick would have to take the place of his father. But I wasn’t expecting that day to come so soon.
“But the juiciest part is this: Dan told him to settle down with a family, and Rick replied, ‘Yeah, it’s about time,’ which led to my prediction.”
My jaw dropped. “Okay, let’s take a deep breath.” I took a deep breath, and then another. So, Jackie’s story definitely had potential for the big M-word, but I didn’t want to hold high hopes until I heard the exact words from Rick. As the optimistic side of me demanded thinking about the future and dancing happily, the pessimistic side shrieked that I stop holding on to groundless hopes. I felt light-headed.
“Anyway, I suggest you try not to fill in the companionable silence with unromantic topics such as this guy who tried to rob a fish and chips shop with a banana. I know he loves your funny traits but sometimes humor can kill romance.” Jackie went on, and she gasped. “Mandy, are you hyperventilating? Okay, calm down. Put your hankie over your mouth and nose and hold your breath.”
I did what I was told and I felt better.
“Feel better?” Jackie furrowed her eyebrows.
“Yes, I’m feeling better. Thanks,” I said, still gasping.
“Okay, sorry about rattling you.” Jackie moved her hand as if she was attempting to clear away my panicky reaction. “Let’s talk about something more laid-back, shall we?” and I couldn’t agree more.
While Jackie and I chatted about Tom Ellis, the ghost’s latest fave actor, the door to the office opened and Rick came in.
“Hey.” He waved at me.
“Hey.” I waved back, my heart fluttering at the sight of him. “How did the training session go?”
“Same old, nothing special. Running, jumping, target shooting, sparring, and sweating like a horde of pigs. This so-called training makes me appreciate my weekly training at the MMA gym. Then again, sometimes I feel like such a dope for training for training sessions.” He shrugged, standing at 6’2” with a body that practically looked like a model from Calvin Klein men’s underwear collection, he was looking sharp, clean, and deceptively refreshed for someone who’d just participated in vigorous exercise. Not even a lock of his hair set in a conservatively messy ’do was out of place. He sat at his desk in the deepest corner of the office. “By the way, Mandy, we don’t have any fundraisers or galas this week, do we?”
“Let me see.” I took out a small journal sporting Gudetama, the lazy egg, from my purse. “You’re right. We have nothing scheduled this week.”
“Don’t forget we have to watch NCIS tonight,” Jackie chimed in. “The previous episode was a cliffy, and I absolutely have to watch tonight’s episode. So, I’d recommend you eat at home.”
“Oh, I got that.” I nodded at Jackie, prompting Rick to ask, “What?”
“Jackie says we have to watch NCIS tonight, and she doesn’t want us to eat out.”
“Okay, in that case, we can order something. What would you like? Pizza? Chinese? Deli from Dean and Deluca, or…?”
“Hmm… deli sounds nice.” As I closed the journal, something fell on my desk. It was a black card with letters sprinkled in gold. “Oh, yikes!” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Rick looked at the card.
“It’s the card Aurora Westwood forced into my hand at the ballet theater on Saturday.”
“The TV psychic?” Rick raised one eyebrow. “Why did she do that to you?”
“She said Miranda Wolff, whom we met on the Giselle McCambridge case, told her about me. I don’t know… but she’s creepy.”
“I know!” Jackie jumped in. “Creepy was an understatement! One moment I was having fun watching you get interrogated by Julie, and the next thing I knew, that witchy woman appeared and I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to be killed.”
“Could it be possible for you to die twice?” I asked Jackie, and then I conveyed her words to Rick.
“Jules interrogated you? That must have been quite a sight.” Rick chuckled. “She can be pretty fierce.”
“Yeah, I think she’ll make a great detective,” I admitted, recalling the encounter with her. “She spotted me chatting with Jackie, and she kept on asking me who I was talking to. I said I was using a hands-free phone, but she didn’t buy that.”
“What a shame that cutesy girl couldn’t see me.” Jackie shook her head. “It would have been nice talking to a little girl for a change.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Considering her nosiness, Julie would have asked Jackie a ton of questions if she could actually see the ghost of a drag queen. I closed my eyes and then opened them again, hoping the card would disappear like smoke, but it was still on my desk. “It’s so creepy. I threw it into the trash box on my way back to the seat, but now it’s back with me like a cursed object,” I said, picking the card up with the tips of my fingernails like a piece of dirty laundry. “On top of all that, she told me to visit her.”
Rick whistled. “Sounds like an irresistible invitation. When are we going?”
“We? I’m not going anywhere near her, thank you very much.” My fingers trembled as I said it.
“Mandy’s right, Rick. She was sooo scary!” Jackie emphasized.
“By the way,” I said, remembering the woman tagging along with the famed psychic, “Aurora’s secretary was with her. I recognize her from somewhere, but I can’t recall where I met her. And it’s been bugging me.”
“Do you know her name?” Rick tilted his head to the side.
“She was called Ms. Seymour, and that’s all I know. I should have asked her for a card.”
Then Rick’s cell phone chirped. “Hello? Hey, Meredith, what’s up? How’s Jules? … What the hell?” The conversation started breezily on his side, but the lightheartedness disappeared immediately. His face suddenly turned expressionless, his jaw visibly tense. “Where are you? Did you talk to Ben? Have you contacted the local police? What about USCAB? Okay, they’ll start working with the FBI’s Child Abduction taskforce. Stay put. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Then he disconnected the call.
“Was it Dr. Grey? What’s happened?” I asked.
He took a deep breath. “Jules is missing. She always carries her GPS phone, but it’s been disabled and her whereabouts are unknown.”
I gasped. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“I know.” Rick frowned. Then he looked around midair, saying, “Jackie, perhaps watching NCIS tonight has to wait.”
CHAPTER 3
“Meredith, let me take a look at the latest photo of Jules,” Rick told Dr. Meredith Grey, his long-time friend from kindergarten, as soon as she let us into the penthouse on the Upper East Side.
“Her photo? Digital or paper?” she asked in a quivering voice. I met her for the first time last summer when Rick hurt his leg, and I still remembered how she treated him efficiently, with occasional wise-cracking. My impression of her was like an orthopedic surgeon version of Wonder Woman, who always looked perfect while sporting sassy attitude. But this time, her normally perfect complexion was blotchy and her pixie hair looked more disheveled than fashionably messy. Her shock and panic were palpable.
“Paper would be better, but digital can do,” Rick said, crossing his long legs while sitting on the cushy sofa in the Greys’ living room.
We weren’t the only visitors at the Greys’ residence. Two men in dark suits were working with laptop computers. According to Rick, they were tactical security consultants from USCAB, the security-based conglomerate run by Rick’s father. The USCAB agents had already set up devices so they’d be able to trace calls in case the Greys received a ransom demand.
“Ok
ay.” She didn’t look convinced but stood up from the sofa and scurried to the mantelpiece decorated by family photos. “How about this one?” She brought a framed one.
“Mind if I remove the frame?” Rick asked.
“No, go ahead.” When she handed the photo to him, her hands were visibly trembling. “Rick, Mandy, I’m so glad you guys are here with me. I know I can’t blame my husband for performing emergency surgery, but for a moment, I truly, desperately wish I married a pathologist… or even an unemployed guy instead of a neurosurgeon.” She hugged herself. “Am I babbling?”
I made sympathetic sounds. “No, I get your point perfectly. Pathologists tend to have more work flexibility as they deal with dead patients most of the time.” The moment I said it, I wished I could rewind the time.
“Dead…? Oh my God, now I know why Rick asked me for Jules’s photo. You know if a person is dead or alive just by looking at the photo! I thought you’ve been joking, but you’re serious, right? What if my baby’s…?” She started wailing and I moved by her side, patting her arms. “The police are doing a door-to-door search, and this specialist lady from the FBI dropped by, but….”
Rick raised an eyebrow, but he only said, “Okay,” as he removed the photo from the frame. In the picture, Julie was triumphantly smiling in a ballet tutu. He stared it for a moment, then said, “She’s alive, and she’s not in any immediate danger.”
Meredith took a deep breath. “Are you sure? On a scale of one to ten, where ten means ‘Hell yes!’ how much do you rate your sureness?”
“I’m positive that Jules is alive, and as for the score, I’d say ten out of ten,” Rick assured her. “So far, I’ve never been wrong about my prediction.”
Meredith bit her lower lip as if to fight the urge to break into a full-blown sob. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Fine. I believe you. At least, I can try.”
According to her, Julie usually went to her grandparents’ home located just two blocks from the Greys’ condo. As it was Tuesday, the governess, who was also a French tutor, was supposed to accompany her from the school to Meredith’s parents’ home. The school administrator witnessed Julie leaving school with Bell Sandburg, a master’s student at Columbia. Under normal circumstances, they should have arrived at the grandparents’ home in less than thirty minutes, where they would converse in French for another hour.
An hour after they had left the school, Bella called Meredith in a panic, saying she’d lost Julie on the way. According to Meredith, Bella recalled strolling the sidewalk with Julie, heading for Julie’s grandparents’ condo. She remembered feeling slightly dizzy at some point, and the next thing she knew, she found herself standing in front of Bloomingdale’s on Lexington. To Bella’s shock, she was all alone and Julie was nowhere to be seen. Bella had no memory of how she’d migrated from East 79th to Midtown. She was uninjured and didn’t recall being abducted or assaulted, but she couldn’t remember when and where she parted with her student.
Following the phone call from Bella, Meredith immediately left work early and contacted the police, USCAB—which was the Greys’ security company—and Rick. Bella was being held in custody at the NYPD as a person of interest.
“How about ransom demands? Did you get any?” Rick asked.
“No.” Meredith shook her head. “The police seem to be regarding Bella as a suspect, but… I don’t know. To be honest, I can’t imagine Bella taking my daughter away. She’s from a very good family, and she got along well with Julie. As for mental status, I’ve never sensed anything unstable or odd about her.” She took a deep breath. “Besides that, Bella’s story about zoning out, wandering off in the middle of streets, finding that she’d lost Julie—that sounds too doped and confused, doesn’t it? People sometimes do the stupidest things, but Bella isn’t one of them. If she’d come up with a scheme to stage Julie’s kidnapping, she should have a better excuse than the one she’s provided.”
“I get your point.” Rick nodded. “Suppose Bella was responsible for Jules’s disappearance. She would have vanished without calling you, and you’d already have received ransom demands. I agree that ‘I have no memory about it’ sounds too lame for an excuse.”
“Dr. Grey, Mr. Rowling.” One of the USCAB consultants approached us. “We have located the area where the signal from Julie’s phone was last detected.”
“Good, Dalton.” Rick nodded. “By checking the security camera feeds in the neighborhood, we should be able to find out what happened when Jules’s phone was switched off.”
Dalton furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s strange. The security camera seems to have been disabled at the time of Julie’s disappearance.”
“What?” Rick frowned.
“No apparent glitch in the network has been reported, but footage in this particular area turned out to be dark nothing. The tech department’s working to identify what caused this issue, so….” Dalton fumbled with his words, looking uncomfortable.
“Where’s this area? I mean, where was Julie’s phone last detected?” I interjected before Rick opened his mouth. “The security camera might have been disabled, but we can talk to witnesses.” After all, it wasn’t like Julie disappeared in the middle of nowhere.
Dalton looked at Rick, who said, “Go ahead.”
The location happened to be just three blocks from the Greys’ condo. Rick thanked Dalton and turned to Meredith. “Take a deep breath and stay home, okay? We’ll visit the area to obtain any information about Jules.”
“But….” Meredith frowned, looking unconvinced.
“Trust me,” Rick said, patting my shoulder. “Mandy here has a knack for bumping into witnesses even the most skilled investigator misses.”
“Please save my daughter,” Meredith whispered as we left the Greys’ condo.
* * *
The signal from Julie’s phone was last detected in the promenade between Madison and Park Avenues.
“Right. Any info about this matter is highly appreciated. My line is open twenty-four seven. Okay. Talk to you later.”
While Rick was on the phone a few yards away from me, I squinted, furiously looking for ghosts. My plan was to find one who might have witnessed Julie just moments before her disappearance. That was something I’d prided as my kind of work. Generally speaking, ghosts tended to find me and talk to me at the worst possible times—such as when the food had just arrived at the restaurant, or the moments when Rick was about to kiss me—but this time, I literally couldn’t find a soul of a dead person.
It was getting dark, and I bit my lip in worry. “Is anyone here?” I called to the blank space in hopes of contacting someone, but no matter how hard I tried to find ghosts, I couldn’t see any. Frustrated and panicked, my heart started pounding. My cheeks were burning, and I was about to start hyperventilating.
Then I heard footsteps and Rick held me from behind. “Mandy, relax.” He pulled me close to him.
“I can’t,” I mumbled. “How can I face Meredith if we don’t find Julie safe?”
“Forget it. You won’t do a better job by freaking out,” he whispered into my ear. “Pretend it’s one of our regular cases about total strangers. It’s not easy, but stop taking it personally. Now, take a deep breath—in and out.”
I closed my eyes and did what I was told.
“It’s not like finding a needle in a haystack. Ghosts usually find you when you least expect it.” Muttering softly, he stroked my hair with his nimble fingers.
“Rick….” I leaned my head on his chest. His big strong hand was still caressing me, and I felt so safe. Though it wasn’t the best or appropriate moment, I was secretly expecting—or rather, wanting—him to kiss me… until someone cleared their throat.
I opened my eyes, gasping, “Oh, Jackie… it’s you!”
“Jackie, found any witnesses?” Rick said to the air, releasing me from his embrace. He couldn’t see or communicate with the ghost of a drag queen, but he knew Jackie could hear him.
“Oh, don’t bother with me
,” Jackie teased, making a kissy face. “I can wait till you two finish making out.”
“Um….” I cleared my throat. “So, any news?”
“Okay, guess what? I just found a guy stuck nearby. He might have seen Julie,” she said, pointing across the street in front of us. “Look, there’s a brownstone building across the street behind the streetlamps, the one right next to the white building with a macaroon shop downstairs. I think he’s stuck in there. I tried talking to him, but he hasn’t responded to me. Perhaps you can grab his attention.”
I looked carefully at the place Jackie had indicated. “Over there? I think I see a blurry, whitish shadowlike thing by the building.”
“That’s him.” Jackie nodded. “Wanna go say hi?”
“Of course.” Then I turned to Rick, pointing at the direction of the brownstone. “Jackie found a ghost who seems to be stuck in this neighborhood.”
“Good. Let’s go.” He took my hand and we started walking.
We crossed the street and approached the brownstone. As I came near the building, I started to see the blurry silhouette of a teenage boy standing with his shoulders slumped.
I pointed at the ghost several feet away. “He’s over there.”
“Uh-huh. Talk to him.”
“Sure.” I nodded and approached the ghost. “Hello?” When I spoke, he didn’t seem to notice me.
He stood there unmoving, as if he’d been turned into stone. His head was bent down toward his Gucci loafers. Though rumpled, he was clad in designer clothes from head to toe. His shirt caught my eyes. It was so avant-garde with one pale blue side and crimson on the other.
“Hi there! I like your shirt. It’s from Brooks Brothers, isn’t it?” Jackie attempted to strike a conversation while floating in the air.
The boy didn’t seem to notice her, so Jackie raised her voice, bouncing around him. “Hello? Can you hear me? I hope you can hear me ’cause there’s something I want to ask you!”