by Tracy Sharp
I ordered a hot chocolate and a cheeseburger with fries. I needed the cocoa to make me feel better; I am a woman after all, and the fatty food for comfort. I’d been through the ringer with this case, and I was starting to feel like I’d stepped into the twilight zone.
“So,” I said to Hailey. “What’s the deal? What does Adrian’s husband want with me?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “I really don’t know, to tell you the truth. I don’t usually ask questions.”
“You just do what you’re told. How nice for him.” I sipped my hot cocoa, reveling in the heat.
She lifted her gaze to mine and her eyes narrowed. “What do you know about it? I bet you’ve never had a shitty thing happen to you in your entire life.”
I smiled at her. “Yeah. That’s me. Just skipping through life on hope and sunshine.”
Jack leaned forward, pinning her with his gaze. “Look, Hailey. You have to know something. He had to have told you something. Don’t bullshit us.”
Hailey sighed. “I think it was a scare tactic.” She looked at me. “I’m supposed to bring you to a house on the outskirts of town and leave. I don’t know exactly what they have planned, but I know that Mark isn’t a killer.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me? Mark isn’t a killer? Okay assuming that he hasn’t been a killer up until now, how much further on the no-conscience scale do you think stealing babies is? From letting them languish in foster homes because they have a sniffle? From allowing the babies and children to die from neglect? How many notches down do you think shooting a pesky P.I. is from kidnapping?”
She stared at me.
“How long do you think it’ll take good old Mark to decide you’re not useful to him anymore, and that maybe you know just a little too much? That maybe he’d be a whole hell of a lot safer if you were completely out of the picture?”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“And how many other grateful, helpful girlfriends does he have, who are willing to do just about anything for him?” Jack asked her. “Hailey, for Christ sake. Use your head.”
“What exactly has he done for you?” I asked her.
“He paid my rent.” She picked at the wooden table. “He put me through college.”
“He doesn’t give you money now?” I asked her.
“No.”
“So is this your way of working some of that money off?” Jack asked.
Hailey said nothing. Didn’t look at us.
“Look,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is, he’s pretty much done with you. He’s just using you to do his dirty work, and it’s only a matter of time before he has one of his other girlfriends cancel your ticket.”
She remained silent, kept her eyes on the table.
“Hailey,” I said, leaning forward and softening my tone.
She looked up at me.
“It’s time to stand on your own two feet. You don’t need him.”
She was silent for a long moment, then she said, “I…I don’t know how to do it without him.”
All this time she’d been thinking he was her rock. That he protected her, shielded her.
“Wow,” I said. “He performed one hell of a mind-mess with you, you know that?”
Hailey nodded. “Yeah. I know that now.”
“I’m betting you knew it then,” Jack said. “But you thought you needed him.”
“I needed somebody,” she said, her face suddenly alive with intensity. “I had no one. I thought my life was over. I thought I was stupid and worthless.”
“And he knew it,” I said. “And he went in for the kill like a wolf sensing weakness.”
Just like Gabriel had done. Just like any cult leader does. Anyone who wants to exploit others for their own gain. And I could see how it could happen.
Just the night before I was feeling hopeless, weak and utterly lost. But I had Jack. What about people who had no support system? Somebody like Mark would be like a hand pulling them out of quicksand.
“You don’t need him anymore,” I told her. “And he doesn’t need you. He has others to do his dirty work for him now. Get out while you still can, Hailey.”
In her eyes I could see the reluctance to let go of the dream. But I could also see resignation. She knew we were right. She had known for some time that Mark Mandell was just using her. She just hadn’t had anyone else to throw her a life line.
After a long moment she lifted her gaze to mine. “Mark and Adrian have opened another adoption agency.”
“Do you know where it is?” Jack asked her.
“Yes. It’s in Clifton Park.”
Two spiders weaving a new web right in our part of town. How convenient.
And how unbelievably bad for them.
* * *
Vicky lived in a quaint apartment complex in Clifton Park. Her balcony afforded her a view of the frozen man-made pond which sat in front of the structure. In summer, a water fountain emerged from the pond and showered water into it. Ducks swam laps in the water and sat around, and old men sat on the edge of the water, fishing rods in hand.
“Are there actually fish in that pond?” I asked Jack.
“I don’t know.”
I frowned a little. Maybe it’s just the action of having a fishing rod in their hand. Like the way I carried one of my guns around the house, unloaded. Sometimes, just to feel the weight of it in my palm.
Vicky lived on the third floor. Apartment 301. Dr. Clemmons had given up the information pretty easily when Jack called. It seemed he was beyond hiding anything anymore. He just wanted his wife home. He said he just wanted her back. He wanted Emily back, his unborn daughter.
It was Jack’s impression that he wasn’t seeing Vicky any longer. It’s funny how priorities change when reality knocks you on your ass.
Vicky’s shadow darkened the peep hole as she peered through it. She opened the door without hesitation. She was a beautiful girl. Hair feathering her cheeks in a shoulder length shag, large green eyes which blinked innocently at us now. “Jack and Leah?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Garrett told me you’d be dropping by to speak with me.” She stepped aside to let us in. “Please come in”
“Thank you,” Jack said. “Just a few questions.”
“You’re not actual police, are you?” She said, her eyes round and naïve looking. But I knew better. Plenty of men bought this act, I was certain, including Garrett Clemmons. But Jack wouldn’t be one of them.
“No, we’re private investigators looking into the disappearance of Dr. Clemmons’ wife. Alexia.” Jack watched Vicky’s face closely.
Something dark seemed to move over her gaze like smoke, and then was gone. So fast that if someone weren’t paying attention, they would’ve missed it. But Jack and I always paid attention. Close attention.
“That’s just awful, isn’t it? What do you think happened? She was just there one day, then gone the next.” She shook her head and tilted her face to the floor while keeping her eyes on Jack.
If I weren’t in the room I was pretty sure she’d be the picture of coquettish seduction.
“We don’t know. That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I said.
She turned to me, her eyes narrowing a little and her lips turning down slightly. “Right.”
I was definitely cramping her style.
She placed a hand on her kitchen counter and pushed out one hip. This was all for Jack’s benefit. I glanced at him. He was watching her like he would some strange new species of bug. Part analysis, part awe. She was a piece of work.
“I’m not sure how I can help you. I know Garrett told you that we’ve been…close.” She tilted her head and looked up at Jack from under her all but fluttering lashes.
I thought I was going to either laugh or be sick. Or both. Not necessarily in that order. “Yes, he did mention that.”
“I don’t know anything about his…wife…except for what he’s told me. I don’t know her personally.” Vic
ky ran a finger along the edge of the counter top.
“What has he told you?” Jack asked.
“He said that they weren’t getting along. He thought she was having an affair. They weren’t close anymore. They’d lost their connection. When that happens, it’s pretty much game over.” She looked up at Jack. “Don’t you think so?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
She smiled at him, a secret, closed lipped grin.
“What have you been talking about all this time? You’ve been seeing each other for months. You’ve gone away with him quite a few times, haven’t you?” I asked her.
Her body stiffened a little and she ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. “We talk about work, mostly. Believe or not. I am his medical assistant.”
“You don’t make plans together?” I was pushing her and enjoying every second.
Her face hardened. “Sometimes.”
“I would hope so, if you’re his bed buddy. Unless that’s really all you are.” I tried not to smile. It was hard.
“We’re friends,” she said, a hard edge to her tone.
“How nice,” I said. “But not for Alexia. She’s still missing, along with their unborn baby girl. They’ve named her Emily. Did you know that?”
“She named her Emily,” Vicky said quietly.
“I beg your pardon?” I said, leaning in a slightly. “I didn’t get that.”
“Garrett said that she named her. Not him.” Vicky wouldn’t say Alexia’s name. She kept to she.
“You mean Alexia,” Jack said.
“Yes. Who else would I be talking about?” She lifted a hand up in the air. A harsh, wave like movement.
“Well, you don’t ever say Alexia’s name. We find that interesting,” I said.
She glared at me. Said nothing.
“Has Garrett ever mentioned leaving Alexia for you?” I asked her.
“That’s really none of your business. In fact, I really don’t have to answer any of these questions.”
“No, you don’t. But it looks mighty suspicious for you, Vicky,” I said.
“Garrett would find it hard to leave his new baby,” Jack said. “All that new bonding with his wife.”
“And if he did leave, he’d have to pay her spousal and child support for many, many years. They’d always be in the picture, wouldn’t they, Vicky? That would be quite a chunk of change.” I moved in closer to her, purposely crowding her. “It would never really be just you and him, would it?”
“I want you to leave now,” she said, looking as if she wanted to spit at me.
“Surely,” I said, and then swayed, my head suddenly fuzzy. The room spun.
Jack grabbed hold of me. “Wooooa, Kicks. You okay?”
I coughed and took several deep breaths. “Yeah, just this bug, whatever it is.”
He placed his hands under my arms and lifted me up.
I looked at Vicky. A strange light seemed to glow behind her eyes. A little smirk played on her lips. “I hope you feel better,” she said. But her tone lifted the small hairs at the back of my neck. I was certain then that if Jack hadn’t been with me, if I’d have decided to come see her alone, I might not make it out of this room. She was a predator. And I was weak right then.
“We’ll be back to speak with you again, if we need to,” I said.
“Keep on knocking but you can’t come in,” she said.
“Right,” I said. “Whatever.”
“Come on, Leah.” Jack had my arm. He was steering me toward her door. I didn’t recognize the hallway or the pictures hanging on the wall. One of Vicky and Garrett on some beach, Vicky sitting on his shoulders. I wondered who took the shot.
We left, but I was pissed. “That bitch did it, Jack. I know she did.”
“I know she did, too. But you’re sick right now, Leah. She’ll do you too, if you’re not careful. Back the hell off.”
I sighed. He was right, but I didn’t like it.
I just cause all sorts of chaos in the lives of those I love.
But the difference was, Jack really had my back. And he loved me, even as crazy-ass and halfcocked as I was.
And I was glad he had my back, because Vicky was itching to put a knife in it.
* * *
I didn’t want to go home right away, but wanted Pango with me, so Jack took me home to get Pango, then we headed back to the office. I lay curled up on my favorite fluffy chair snuggled in Jack’s worn leather jacket. He made me some cocoa, but after a few sips, my eyes grew heavy.
Jack found a bottle of cough medicine from last autumn when he’d caught a hellacious cold. There was still some left at the bottom. He managed to get two teaspoons out of it and fed them to me. Pango lay on the floor in front of the chair, and I was so warm and comfy that I drifted off and dozed.
For three hours, as it turned out. When I opened my eyes I felt much better. Groggy and still sick, but much better. Jack sat on his chair watching the old TV we had mounted to a corner of the room. The sound was down so low I didn’t know how he could hear it. But then, my ears were pretty much blocked.
“She lives,” Jack said, getting up off his chair and coming toward me. He leaned in and placed a large hand on my cheek, then bent and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Um, thanks,” I said, confused.
He shrugged. “Mothers do that to check their kids for fever all the time.”
“Ah. Okay.” Some small part of me was a little disappointed at the legitimate medical purpose behind his kiss, but I hid it well.
“Besides, doesn’t it make you feel better?”
I chuckled. “Yes, it does. Thanks pal.”
“No problem.”
“So what’s next?” I asked him, stretching my arms above my head.
“I drive you home so you can sleep?”
“I’ve already slept. And I feel much better. I can’t lie around all day, Jack.”
He snickered and shook his head at me. “Stubborn.”
“I’m getting antsy. I have to do something productive.” I stood up from the chair pulled Jack’s jacket on. It was enormous on me, and smelled of comfort and warmth, of him. I stretched again, yawning. My throat was still a little sore, and I was still a bit stuffy, but other than that I felt okay.
I patted Pango’s head.
“She didn’t move the entire time you were sleeping,” Jack said.
“Aw, you’re a good girl, baby.” I crouched down and wrapped my arms around her. I looked up at Jack. “You must be chomping at the bit to do something. Have you been sitting in that chair watching over me for the last three hours?”
“Nah. Just the last fifteen minutes. You missed the drugs, booze and hookers. They just left.”
“Damn.”
“Maybe next time, Kicks.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I sighed. “Jackass.”
He lifted his hands, tilted his head. “Yeah. And?”
“So what now?”
“Feel like another shot of disgust?”
“Sure. Why not? It’s been like, hours since my last one.”
“Come on then, tough girl.” He paused. “But can I have my jacket back? It’s a bit cold out there.”
“Yeah. I guess,” I took my time taking it off. I wanted to keep it wrapped around me, but didn’t want him to freeze. He helped me with my own leather jacket. It didn’t feel anywhere near as good.
* * *
Jack and I decided to go have a little chat with Mark Mandell. See if we could rattle his cage a little bit. Adrian was already on to us, so our cover was blown. If nothing else, it would be fun to see him squirm.
According to Hailey, he’d be at the new adoption agency location, helping set it up, for the next while. Adrian and Mark had bought a duplex. One part of the building would be the adoption agency. The other would be his new office space for his practice in Clifton Park. Seemed as if he might be running the Clifton Park business.
Hailey said that he’d even bought a house in
a new area of town. She helpfully gave us the address.
Lucrative business. Baby selling.
Hailey was going home. “I want to start living my life, today. I’ve wasted too much time on Mark. I’m done with this whole thing. I’m not looking back.”
Who could blame her?
We drove by the Duplex. His Volvo wasn’t there.
“Guess we’ll swing by the new pad,” Jack said. “Give him our warmest regards and congratulate him on the new business and house.”
“Should we stop and get a bottle of champagne?” I said.
“Oh, I’m sure he has a fridge jam packed with champagne. He has to impress all those traumatized, young girls.”
“True that,” I said.
Mark Mandell’s house, a modern marvel of shimmering splendor, sat on a hill overlooking the water in Saratoga Springs.
His garage door was open, the wind blowing puffs of snow into the garage and up around the wheels of his Volvo. The engine wasn’t running. The tinted windows made it impossible to see if anyone was inside the car.
Jack frowned and looked at me. “Weird that the garage door is open like that, it’s been open for a while too. Look at the snow drifts inside it.”
“This isn’t good,” I said, climbing out of the truck.
We headed toward the garage. The wind blew up from behind us and seemed to push us toward Mark Mandell’s car.
Adrenaline raced through me. My breath quickened. Something wasn’t right.
Jack reached the car and tried peering in through the smoky opaque windows. He squinted. Shook his head. “I can’t see a thing.” He knocked on the window. Nothing.
I took a breath. He glanced at me, and then reached for the door handle.
My spine stiffened. Shoulders squared. I planted my feet firmly about a foot apart from each other and reached for my .38. It felt comforting in my hand.
Jack pulled the door open and Mark Mandell fell sideways out onto the snowy floor of the garage, a gaping bullet hole in his forehead. He stared up at us, eyes wide, mouth open, as if he was about to ask a question. I wondered if he got any part of the question out before somebody put a hole in his head.