by Tracy Sharp
I took a breath. “What is it?”
“You anywhere near a TV?”
“Yes.” Oh damn. I closed my eyes. “No.”
“Yes, Leah.” He only called me ‘Leah’ when it was serious. The rest of the time I was ‘Kicks.’ A name earned for my flair for kickboxing, which he’d taught me, along with a lot of other useful skills. Not all of them legal.
“Jack, please, any case but this one, okay? Don’t do this to me. Please.” I felt Lucas’s clear, grey eyes on me. I opened my own and looked into them. My chest fluttered. Then I remembered what I was on the phone for. “I don’t have the heart or the energy for this one.”
“You had a long vacation. And you do have the heart. That’s why you don’t want to take this case.”
“Why this one?”
“Her mother called us, Leah. She’s…really scared. I couldn’t say no. You won’t either after you meet her.”
I felt my heart sink. “What makes you think I’ll meet her?”
“Because I’m standing about five feet behind you and I’m not leaving here without you.”
I swiveled in my chair to see all six plus feet of Jack standing a little ways away from me. Worn, brown leather jacket open, gaze serious. He really wasn’t leaving without me.
“Hey Jack,” Lucas said behind me.
Jack tipped his head to Lucas. “Luke.” He looked at me. “Come on, Kicks. Let’s get going.”
“What makes you think I’ll go with you?” I felt petulant and silly. I really, really didn’t want this case. I felt like crying, but it wouldn’t do any good. I already knew I wouldn’t turn it down, and Jack knew it.
Jack grinned. “I have a large mochaccino waiting in the car with your name on it.”
“Oh, dirty pool, Jack. Dirty pool.”
He lifted his hands, palms upward. “Whatever, it takes. Now quit stalling.”
I slid off the bar stool and sighed, looking at Lucas and feeling like I was leaving a delicious desert I hadn’t had the chance to taste yet.
“See ya,” I told him.
“Let me know if you need my help.” His face was solemn. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
Oh boy. He was kind on top of being delectable. And even though I would’ve preferred walking the plank to meeting the frightened, desperate mother of a missing pregnant daughter, It was a good thing I was leaving that bar.
But I was already committed to the case. I had been the second Jack had mentioned her.
* * *
As we pulled up to the house the sense of dread crawling over me had heightened to an almost unbearable level. I took a deep breath as we sat in the drive-way for a moment.
Jack watched me, his face grim. “You okay?”
“No. Not really.”
“I know. Let’s go.”
The mid-November wind cut through my long leather coat as if I weren’t wearing one at all. I’d have to swap it out for something warmer. But I loved that coat. I was attached to it and it got harder each year to trade it for a bulky, more cold-weather appropriate jacket.
In the northeast, you’re asking for trouble if you aren’t in a parka in cold weather. Going from leather to parka is really hard for me. It just isn’t the same.
We climbed the stairs heading to the front door, which opened before we got there. A small woman with smart, short, dark hair answered. She pulled the front of her white cardigan closed as we approached.
“Mrs. Costas?” Jack offered his hand, leaning down as he did.
“Yes. Come in, come in. Thanks for coming.” Her face was lined with worry. Her eyes were glossy and puffy.
“This is my partner, Leah Ryan,” Jack said as we stepped inside. The house smelled of spices and warmth.
“Thank you. Thank you,” she said to me, taking my hand in both of hers. Her hands were smooth and dry.
‘Nice to meet you’ didn’t seem appropriate to me. “Of course,” I told her.
“Come in.” She led us to a comfortable living room jammed with overstuffed furniture. This was a house built for making people feel at home. Photographs of a pretty girl with thick, dark hair and warm, brown eyes smiled out at us, also there were several of a boy growing up through the years as well.
“Your children,” I asked, looking at them. Who else would they be? But it was a softer way of leading into the conversation we’d be having, instead of bulleting the woman with questions.
“Yes, Alexia and Nicholas. Only eighteen months apart. They are very close.”
I nodded, feeling Jack standing behind me like a shield. “How old are they now?”
“Alexia is twenty-four and Nicholas is twenty-six. He is back from college for a few days until we find Alexia.”
As if on cue a broad, stocky man in his twenties came down the stairs, watching us with steady eyes.
“Ah,” Mrs. Costas said. “Nicholas, these are the investigators I told you about. They’re going to help us find Alexia.”
Nicholas nodded, offered his hand to each of us. “Thanks.”
Mrs. Costa gestured to the sofa. “Sit down, please. Coffee? Tea?”
Jack and I thanked her but declined.
“Can you tell us what happened?” I asked her.
She sat ramrod straight on a chair facing us, wringing her hands. “The police are looking for Alexia, but they don’t tell me anything. They ask if she’d ever done this before, like she left on purpose. But I know something happened. I know someone took her. She would never just vanish without a word.” Her voice cracked slightly.
I nodded, staying silent. I could see Jack doing the same from the corner of my eye.
“We were supposed to meet at the Country Mall. Go to a matinee. She really wanted to see that new love story playing there. She was really excited because this was the first day of her maternity leave. She was really looking forward to relaxing.”
I nodded. “You’re really close.”
“Very. We talk on the phone at least once a day, sometimes more. Each weekend we see each other on either Saturday or Sunday, and she stays for dinner at least once a week. Her husband, Garret, is a surgeon. He’s very busy. He’s at a medical conference in France.”
Nicholas seemed to stiffen. His jaw tightened. “He goes to a lot of conferences.”
“Really,” I waited for him to say more. He didn’t.
“He’s very busy,” Mrs. Costas said again, wringing her hands, her eyes nervous.
“Does he know about Alexia’s disappearance?” Jack asked, his gaze moving between Mrs. Costas and Nicholas.
“I’ve spoken with him,” Mrs. Costas said. Her voice was breathy, as if she couldn’t quite get enough air into her lungs. “He’ll be on a plane home as soon as he can.”
I blinked. “As soon as he can?
“He finally called you back.” Nicholas pressed his lips together in a tight line.
“They don’t allow you to have your cell phone on in those conferences,” Mrs. Costas explained.
“Right,” Nicholas drew the word out.
Mrs. Costas glanced at Nicholas, and then turned her face to us. “He didn’t know when the next plane was going to be, but he said he’d be on it.”
“When did you speak with him?” Jack asked her.
“He returned my call about an hour ago,” Mrs. Costas said.
“Would you give him my cell number when he comes in? We need to speak with him,” I said as I handed my card to Mrs. Costas and Nicholas.
“Here is mine, too.” Jack dug a business card from him wallet, handing one to each of them as well.
“Yes,” Mrs. Costas said. “Yes, of course.”
We were silent for a moment.
Suddenly her chin trembled. “I waited for her in the food court for three hours. I called her cell phone many times. No answer.” She shook her head, lifting her hands from her lap just a little. “She never showed up.” Her tone was higher as she fought tears.
Then she looked at me with eyes barely containing the
terror she felt. “I try not to watch the news. These missing women…”
My stomach clenched as I imagined sitting, waiting for my daughter to meet me and never showing up. My heart ached for her, she was terrified for her daughter.
I looked into her worn, pale face. “We’ll do whatever we can to find your daughter Mrs. Costas. I promise.”
It was a promise I intended to keep at all costs. I just had no idea at the time just how high the cost would be.
* * *
We got the key to the house Alexia shared with her husband, who had been gone for a week. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. Mrs. Costas had been there earlier in the day and couldn’t think of anything that seemed wrong about the house. Her car was not in the drive-way, nor was it at the mall. Mrs. Costas and Nicholas had searched the parking lot several times. We checked her email going back several months, nothing strange, no red flags.
What the hell had happened to her? She was like smoke. There one second, gone the next.
Jack and I had gone to a small hole in the wall place that had the best wings going.
“You’re stalling again.” He looked at me as he bit into a wing.
“I know.” I took a long swig of my beer.
“What’s going on with you? Are you and Callahan okay?”
“We’re wonderful.” But I didn’t want to go home.
“That’s the problem, huh?” Jack knew me better than I knew myself. Always had. With us, it was like breathing, reading the other without even trying. We had an uncanny connection which had served us well over the years, both in work and in life. The latter in which had proven to be dangerous for us both from an early age.
I put my beer down and sighed, placing my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. “Why, Jack? Why do I do this?”
“What, sabotage things with Callahan when they’re going perfectly?”
“Yeah, that.”
He chuckled. “Leah, I’m your friend. Not your shrink. But my best guess is that it’s your absolute terror of intimacy, which makes you the wonderful person you are.”
“He wants to get married, Jack, Married.” A shiver crawled up my spine at the very thought, and I shuddered.
“I know, he’s told me, many times.”
“Isn’t it enough that we live together? It took me three years to agree to that.”
He gave an easy shrug. “Apparently not, some people want to move forward. Want that ultimate commitment.”
“But it’s a sham. Jack, you know as well as I do that most marriages today end up in divorce. I think that piece of paper is the beginning of the end for most people.” I stopped, thinking about it. “Actually, no, people get married when it was over long before the actual ceremony. Sometimes even before the engagement.”
“Or as soon as the engagement takes place? As in your case?”
“No. It’s not over between us. I just feel so…trapped, suffocated.” Just talking about it was making me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. I struggled to take a deep breath and let it out.
Jack lifted hand. “I know. You don’t have to explain it to me, Kicks.” He looked at me, his green gaze level. “Don’t you think you should tell Callahan all this?”
“Yes and no. This is the conversation of doom. He gets hurt, and I feel like crap. Nothing gets resolved.” I sat back, feeling tired but not wanting to move. I’d sit in that booth all night if they’d let me.
Reading my mind again, he said, “You need to go home, Leah. Staying away from him as much as possible isn’t going to help your situation. And here’s a thought, it may even make it worse.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”
“Hey, at least I have some form of wit.”
“Ha. Ha. Okay, we’re getting stupid.” I sat forward, pulling my jacket on and sighing heavily. “This case isn’t going to fill him with joy, either. That’s your fault, my friend.”
“Kicks.”
His tone was serious and made me stop and pay attention. “Yeah.”
“I see the way you look at Lucas. You’re playing a dangerous game there. You know?”
I looked at the table. “I know.”
“If you want to end things with Callahan, do it. But don’t play him for an idiot. Don’t leave him twisting in the wind.”
I nodded eyes still downward. He was right.
The problem was that I didn’t really want to end it with Callahan. I just couldn’t help feeling attracted to Lucas.
I slapped the table, punctuating the end of discussion. “I know. You’re right. I’ll straighten up and fly right, partner.”
Another promise I wanted to keep. But I knew myself and I felt like a liar.
* * *
I took the long way. I felt like I needed to chill out. I planned on going home soon, so I didn’t hit the highway, but drove the same roads over and over, the radio cranked.
It was late when I finally got home. Callahan was in bed. I sat on the stairs and pulled off my boots, placing them on the floor as quietly as I could. The reason for my silence wasn’t all that altruistic. If I woke Cal, I’d have to talk to him. I’d have to tell him that I’d embroiled myself in a horrible case which would take all my energy, my heart and my soul until it was solved. Or at least over.
It wasn’t just a vacation from difficult cases that had led me to take a break from working. It was me committing to Callahan the way he wanted me to.
And I’d done my best for months. I really had.
So much so that I’d started resenting him, and started looking for an escape from that resentment.
I needed to keep myself busy. So I decided to go to a few lectures on risk assessment. And there was Lucas, my shiny new method of sabotage.
It wasn’t too late. I hadn’t stepped over the line, yet.
But I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told Jack that Callahan wouldn’t be happy with me taking on this case. I’d have to tell him sooner or later.
I made my way to the bedroom we shared, moving through the dark to the foot of the bed by sheer familiarity. I knew where everything was in the room. I always know every detail about the space I live in. It’s one small way of keeping some kind of semblance of control in my self-imposed chaotic life.
When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see Callahan’s shape under the covers. I heard the slow rise and fall of his breathing change, become quiet. He was awake.
“Hey.” His voice was thick with sleep.
“Hey yourself, sorry I woke you up.”
He lifted his head to peer at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s late. Whatcha been up to?”
His tone was too casual. He knew how prickly I got when I felt like I was being grilled. Now was the moment of truth. I sat on the bed, facing away from him. I had to tell him about the case.
I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Chapter Two
Lead balloon, as I’d expected. Callahan didn’t say anything. He listened to me talk, and then rolled over, facing the other way.
How could I explain to him that I couldn’t walk away? Would it have been so easy for him to turn Mrs. Costas down?
We both lay quietly, long into the night. At some point I fell asleep. I don’t know if he did or not. By the time I woke up, he was gone.
Seven a.m. came early. I showered quickly and pulled on my comfy jeans and soft, slate blue thermal top. I needed all the comfort I could get. My nice, comfortable life had suddenly grown not so comfortable, and wouldn’t be for the foreseeable future.
Our office was in an older part of town. It was a converted old firehouse that the town had been getting ready to tear down. We rescued it, bought it for a song, and took on the renovations ourselves. It had been an exercise in perseverance and patience, both with each other and with the work. Callahan and a slew of old misfit friends we’d adopted over the years helped. It was a labor of love, and love it we did. Jack and I, that is.
Callahan wasn�
�t as thrilled. The firehouse had turned into my refuge away from the pressure I felt in the relationship with him, my home away from home.
In fact, if things kept going the way they were, I’d be moving my shit into that firehouse and camping out for a while. I always did think it would make a cool living space.
“Hey Kicks.” Jack was leaning back in a computer chair looking at his laptop. “How’d it go?”
“How do you think?”
“That’s about what I thought.”
“Can we get to work, please?” I plopped into a big old fluffy chair I’d gotten on clearance at a furniture warehouse. I sat sideways, draping my legs over one arm.
Jack lifted his eyebrows. “Surely, Nicholas called.”
“I had a feeling.” We’d both decided that it was fairly obvious, that Nick wasn’t a huge fan of the good doctor, whose name was Garrett Clemmons. Brain surgeon extraordinaire. We needed to figure out if Nick’s animosity had to do with the doc not spending much time with his wife or if there was something more to it.
“When’s he coming?” I asked, picking at a tiny thread on the knee of my jeans. If I kept pulling I’d end up with a hole, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was fidgety and feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.
“He’ll be here any minute.” Jack sat up and looked out the window next to his desk. “Wow. He wasn’t kidding. He’s here now.”
I swung my legs over the arm and placed my feet on the floor. “He must have something pretty pressing he wants to tell us.”
Jack grinned. “Cool.”
“It’s open,” I called when Nicholas knocked on the door.
He entered, nodding his head once in greeting.
“Come in, have a seat.” Jack sat forward. “Coffee?”
Nick held up a hand. “No. Thanks. I don’t drink coffee.” He wore a tight fitting, thin mock turtleneck, showcasing his gym muscles, and fitted black slacks. His legs were thick and powerful. The boy took care of himself.
“What do you do, Nick?” I asked.
“I own Nikos’ gym up on Fullerton.” He squared his shoulders and puffed his chest out slightly.