by Parker, Ava
The front door of Dovetail was locked at nine-thirty in the morning. Carlisle knocked while Kincaid sent a text message to Michelle Perkins’s cell phone. One of those things worked because a few seconds later they saw her come around the corner of the bar and wave.
Carlisle waved back with her badge and Michelle let them in and introduced herself. “Would either of you like coffee?”
“We’re fine, thank you. Let’s take a seat, Mrs. Perkins.” Carlisle made it a statement, not a question, subtly positioning herself as the bad cop, and the detectives followed her to a large table by a window.
“Have you found any sign of Maddy?” She directed the question toward Kincaid because he wasn’t frowning at her, but Carlisle answered.
“We’re making progress in the investigation, Mrs. Perkins. Do you have any idea where Madeline Gardner might be?”
Without bothering to hide her irritation, she said, “Where she might be? No. That’s why I contacted the police. If I had any idea where she might be then I would have checked that place before I filed a missing persons report.”
Kincaid put a hand up to stop her before she went on. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to her? Has anyone threatened her, or maybe the restaurant?”
“No. What could this have to do with the restaurant?”
Carlisle thought, Well, by all accounts Madeline Gardner spends ninety percent of her waking life here, but she said, “Just covering all the possibilities, Mrs. Perkins. What about threats to Miss Gardner?”
“If I’d known she was being threatened, I would have said something right away. Look, I don’t have any idea where she is or why, I just want you to find her and bring her home.”
“What about the restaurant?” Carlisle asked again.
“No. No. No!”
Michelle was beginning to sound hysterical and Kincaid responded in a mollifying tone, “Please don’t get upset, Mrs. Perkins. In order to find Madeline, we have to ask questions, lots of them, and I understand that some of those questions may seem obvious to you, but until we have the answers, we can’t stop asking the questions. We need your help to focus our investigation on the things that are relevant and rule out the things that aren’t.”
Kincaid finished the mini-lecture with a self-deprecating shrug and a head bob. A curl of coarse red hair came loose from his pompadour and bounced off of his forehead, making him look boyish and a little uncertain. Her partner could be slick as a fox when questioning a witness and Judy would have bet money that he shook that curl loose on purpose.
Michelle had managed to take a few deep breaths while Kincaid was talking to her and her shoulders relaxed a little. “I’m sorry, detectives, I’m just so scared and so exhausted and so stressed out.”
“Perfectly understandable,” said Kincaid, pushing his hair out of his face. “You must be under a lot of pressure, running this place by yourself.”
“It’s been really hard, I’ll be honest. Running this restaurant with two people is a ton of work. Alone, it’s been totally overwhelming. Add to that, I’m afraid that something terrible happened to Maddy.”
“I can’t even imagine.” He pulled out a leather-bound notebook as if to indicate that now the questions were serious. “Let’s get through these questions so that you can get back to it. Is Madeline currently dating anyone?”
“No.”
“Even casually?”
“No. She would have told me.”
Carlisle jumped in. “We found indications in her apartment that she is sexually active. Is it possible that she is seeing someone and didn’t tell you?”
“Well, if she didn’t tell me, how would I know? Anyway, don’t all single women have condoms around just in case they have sex?”
It was almost the same thing the sister had said to her earlier, and it was probably true, but her job during this interview was to push a little. Kincaid’s job was to placate. He said, “We really have to be sure about a boyfriend or lover, Mrs. Perkins, because in cases like this, if something bad happened, ninety percent of the time, that’s who did it.”
Michelle sighed. “I really don’t know of anyone, and I really think I would. We’re so busy here that it’s even hard to find time for friends, let alone start a new relationship. I hardly have time to be married and Eddie’s part of the business.”
Carlisle raised her eyebrows and Kincaid made a note. He asked, “Eddie is your husband?”
“Yes, and partner.” After a pause she said, “The last guy Maddy dated ended in the fall. Right around Halloween. And I think it ended because he wanted to spend more time with her and she couldn’t. Something like that – it didn’t seem like a big deal to her, and like I said, we don’t have much personal time. Our restaurant has done really well but Seattle is a competitive place for restaurateurs and we’re still a relatively new place. We have to work our asses off to keep the menu fresh and lively and maintain a good staff and a nice ambience, all on a tight budget.”
Kincaid nodded sympathetically. “Do you remember the name of the man Maddy was dating?”
She thought for a moment. “Jack something. I don’t remember his last name, but maybe it’ll come to me. He seemed pretty normal though, and she never mentioned that he was bugging her after they broke up. In fact, he might have broken up with her because of the time thing. I just don’t remember.”
“Where did she meet him?” asked Carlisle.
“Probably online. That’s where everyone meets these days.”
Carlisle thought they might find a record of him on Madeline’s computer.
“No one since then,” she went on. “Although she flirts with everybody.” Michelle smiled ironically. “She’s a heartbreaker.”
“Anyone in particular?” asked Kincaid.
“No. She really flirts with everybody. Not sexually, I don’t mean that. She’s just very friendly with people. Men, women, children, gay, straight, old, young. She just turns on her high-beam smile and bats her eyelashes and charms everyone. If she weren’t such an incredible chef, she would be perfect in the front of the house. Or on Broadway.” She smiled again, this time with real mirth. “Maddy’s appealing to everyone.”
Carlisle didn’t smile. “Is she appealing to anyone strange? Someone who comes to the restaurant and asks for her too often, or who has made a pass at her that was inappropriate?”
Michelle was shaking her head slowly. “You should ask Susan, our front of house manager, and our bartenders. They see more of that stuff than I do. I come in in the morning and leave once we’re all set up for the dinner service. Maddy comes in after the lunch rush and works through dinner, so we’re really never here together when we have diners or drinkers.”
Kincaid asked for names and contact numbers for the staff and Michelle went back to the office to print out a copy of the phone list.
“What do you think?” asked Carlisle.
“I think she wants us to find her friend, but I don’t think she’s telling us everything.”
“They never do,” she replied as Michelle walked back into the dining room.
“Here’s a list of everyone.” Pulling out a yellow highlighter pen, she said, “I’ll mark the people who will probably be most helpful.”
“Are any of them working tonight?”
“Yes. Susan is. And Joe, one of our bartenders. They both talked to Clara yesterday.”
That raised Carlisle’s eyebrow again. Clara hadn’t mentioned that.
“Here,” Michelle said and passed the sheet of paper across the table. “It might be better if you call them at home. Tonight is going to be busy.”
The detectives nodded noncommittally. They would come in tonight no matter how busy it was.
It was quarter past ten when they left, opting to walk to Gigi’s Bistro since
they were parked about midway between the two restaurants. “Plus,” said Kincaid, “we can go through the market and pick up a sandwich.”
“Weren’t you going to go on a diet, Jerry?” his partner replied, pointing a finger at his belly straining the belt on his suit.
“I am on a diet, Judy.” He sucked in his stomach and patted it. “I didn’t say anything about pastries.”
Carlisle smiled. She could do with a sandwich too, and she didn’t want to show up to do an important interview in a restaurant with a growling stomach. It might impugn her authority. They made their way to one of the bakeries on Pike Place next to a flower market. “God, it’s nice out. I hope I can get a run in today.”
“All right, Judy, don’t rub it in. I’ll get turkey and mustard instead of steak and cheese.”
They ate their sandwiches as they walked, stopping to look out over Puget Sound and Mount Rainier rising in the distance. “No place I’d rather live,” said Kincaid, then his mood darkened and he added, “We have to find Maddy Gardner. Something definitely doesn’t smell right. I just don’t buy that she would take off and leave her restaurant behind.”
Carlisle agreed. Something was up. Lingering by the artists’ tables on the north end of the market, they finished eating and arrived at Gigi’s a few minutes before eleven. The bistro was closed but they could see the waitstaff setting up through big panel windows. Both detectives pulled their badges and Kincaid knocked heavily on the door. He could see someone at the host stand point to her watch and then smile and throw her hands in the air as if to say, So sorry!
This time he tapped his gold badge against the window and Carlisle held hers up too. Looking perplexed, the woman said something over her shoulder and finally walked up and unlocked the door. She wasn’t ready to let them in, though.
“May I help you, officers?” she said, smiling through ten inches of open door.
Kincaid kept his face stony. “Detectives Kincaid and Carlisle. We’re here about a missing woman and we need to talk to some of your staff.”
She replied with the same I’m sorry shrug she had given them when he knocked. “We’re really busy getting ready to open for lunch. It might be better if you come back around two.”
Carlisle had to turn her head to hide her smile. Kincaid couldn’t stand to be patronized.
“Sure. Or we could come back at eleven-thirty when you’re really busy serving lunch. Would you prefer that?”
Before she could answer a tall, beautiful woman in her forties took hold of the door and opened it wide. “Please, detectives, come in.” The other woman looked surprised and a little guilty. “It’s okay, Marie, just finish up the reservation list.
“Gemma Stein. I’m one of the owners of Gigi’s.” The woman’s posture was regal and when she held out a hand, Carlisle couldn’t help but notice the giant diamond weighing it down. “Clara Gardner came in last night, so I thought the police would make a visit too.” She led them to a table and ordered coffee from a passing waiter.
“Anything we can do, just ask.”
This was shaping up to be one of the most cordial interviews she’d ever conducted, thought Carlisle as she asked her first question. “Were you here on Monday night when Madeline Gardner came in for dinner?”
“Yes,” said Gemma Stein, meeting the detective’s gaze, “but I only saw her in passing.” She explained that she had been in the office doing paperwork and only saw Maddy long enough to exchange a few words on the way out the door.
“You saw Madeline leaving?”
“No, I was leaving. I saw her by the ladies’ restroom. She was just ending a call – at least that’s what it looked like. I said hello, she said hello, we made small talk and walked back out to the dining room together. I think I asked about Dovetail. That was it.”
“Why did you ask about Madeline’s restaurant?” asked Kincaid.
Gemma didn’t flinch. “Because she and I are in the same business and I’m genuinely interested.”
“Did you have any reason to think that business at Dovetail was not going well?”
“Heavens no.” For the first time since they’d sat down, Gemma seemed surprised and her eyes went wide when she responded to Kincaid’s question. “They’ve been remarkably successful. And I’m not just repeating the rumors. Our company supplies the wine to Dovetail and they buy a lot of wine and spirits. That means they sell a lot of wine and spirits, and that means business is good.”
Carlisle asked, “You said your company supplies their wine. What company is that?”
“Steinboch Restaurant Group. We own several restaurants in Seattle, a bakery, and a wine wholesaler.”
“And who is we?” Kincaid was writing everything down in his trusty notebook.
Addressing her answer to Carlisle apparently because Kincaid wasn’t looking at her, Gemma named herself, her husband and two other investors.
“Did Madeline seem upset or worried when you saw her?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No. Of course, she never does.”
“Did you hear any of her phone conversation?”
“I don’t even know for certain that she was having a telephone conversation. She could have been updating her Facebook page or sending a text. I just saw her press a button and put the phone away. Though, if I had heard her speaking I wouldn’t have listened anyway.” She finished her coffee and checked her watch. Gemma Stein had relayed the information she had and was ready to move on.
“Mrs. Stein, can you look up Madeline’s check from Monday night?” asked Kincaid.
“I’d have to know where she sat.” Gemma looked around. “Kris waited on her. She’ll know.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Stein,” he replied. Clara had told them Maddy had been with Ben Radcliffe on Monday night, but they had to confirm it.
So far, Gemma Stein had been concise and cooperative and this wasn’t the time to go fishing for more information. When she came back with a photocopy of the credit card receipt with Radcliffe’s name and signature Carlisle thanked her and asked to speak to the staff members who had been working Monday night.
“Of course. I’ll check the schedule and see who’s here today.”
When she walked away Kincaid squinted after her. “Seems like a straight shooter.”
“As an arrow,” said Carlisle. “She’s a competitor though, and she does business with Madeline.”
A man in his early thirties, wearing a pressed suit, his dark hair slicked back severely from sharp cheekbones, approached their table. Slender and neat as a pin, he stood about five-ten in his shiny wingtips. “Detectives,” he said gravely, “Harry Reynolds, general manager at Gigi’s Bistro. I was here on Monday night and I talked to Maddy and her date for several minutes.” That stated, he sat down and said, “How can I help?”
Harry’s deep, rich voice and five o’clock shadow belied his slightly effeminate mannerisms and the effect was very appealing, thought Carlisle. She and Kincaid introduced themselves just as Gemma Stein returned to the table with a photocopy of a credit card receipt.
“Anything else I can do to help you find Maddy, let me know.” She handed them each a business card and gracefully turned back to the restaurant.
Watching Kincaid as the detective’s eyes followed Gemma floating into the fray, handing out words of encouragement to her staff as she wound her way back to the office, Harry said, “She’s very beautiful.”
Kincaid shrugged ambivalently. “What can you tell us about Monday night?”
“In general, it was a normal night. We had a good crowd, but Mondays are never out-of-control busy.”
“What time did Madeline Gardner come in?”
“Seven o’clock, I guess. That was her reservation time, but I only know that because I just checked.”
“Did you see her come
in?”
“No. I check the reservations list every day so I know what’s happening on the floor and to see whether anyone I know is coming in. When I saw Maddy’s name I made a mental note to check on her table, but I didn’t see her walk through the door.”
“When you checked on her, did she seem upset?”
“Not at all. She was lovely. She’s always lovely.” He paused. “It would be hard to tell if Maddy was troubled. She’s always at ease. Do you know what I mean? Always seems at peace. Even if she’s not smiling and laughing you have the feeling that it’s all good with Maddy.” He shrugged.
“So was she smiling and laughing or just exuding peace and tranquility on Monday night?”
Harry looked at Kincaid, a little surprised, and then he laughed. “I see what you mean, detective.” He tapped his immaculately-buffed fingernails on the table. “She was just exuding.”
“Do you know Maddy personally, or just through the restaurant?” asked Carlisle.
“Both, I guess. I see her around town sometimes. Plus my girlfriend manages the front of the house at Dovetail.”
“Susan?” asked Carlisle. She and Kincaid were both surprised, but for different reasons. Kincaid was surprised because he’d thought Harry was gay, while Carlisle was surprised because of the coincidence.
“Yes.” Now Harry was surprised that the detectives knew his girlfriend’s name. He looked at them and then said, “Oh! Of course, you’ve already been over to Dovetail to talk to the staff there.”
“We spoke to Susan on our way out this morning,” said Kincaid, wondering if the new link would turn into something important.
“So Maddy seemed fine,” said Carlisle, steering them back. “What about the guy she was with?”
“Ben? He seemed happy enough. Normal, I guess.”
Both detectives perked up, but neither showed it. “Do you know Ben?”