by Nancy Skopin
Next to Kate, clutching her hand, was a moon-faced little girl with the same dark hair and hawk-like nose as her mom. Aiyana was holding a purple stuffed giraffe. All eyes turned to me as I walked into the room. I smiled at Aiyana.
“Cool giraffe,” I said. “What’s his name?”
She looked at her mother before answering. Kate nodded and Aiyana turned her gaze to me and said, “Stink.”
“Excuse me?”
Kate laughed. “That’s the giraffe’s name,” she said. “Stink.”
“Creative,” I said, grinning at the adorable little girl. I turned to Kate. “I’m Nicoli Hunter. We spoke on the phone. Is it all right if I show Aiyana some photos?”
Kate’s smile morphed into the lawyer’s scowl I’d seen on her firm’s website. Or maybe it was her protective mother expression.
“Go ahead,” she said.
I pulled the stack of photos without names to identify them from my bag and sat down on the floor in front of Aiyana. She looked at me curiously, still clinging to her mother’s hand and Stink, the giraffe.
“Aiyana, I’m going to show you some pictures. I want you to think about the day you saw Sky leave here with a lady that wasn’t her mom and tell me if any of these pictures look like the woman who took Sky away. Can you do that for me?”
Aiyana looked up at Kate, then returned her gaze to me, and said, “Okay.”
I placed the six pages on the floor in front of her and said, “Do any of these pictures look like the woman who took Sky?”
Aiyana released her mother’s hand and picked up each photo, studying them carefully, before holding out photo number two. “This one,” she said.
It was the photo of Cammie Sutcliffe. The nurse who had assisted with Sky’s delivery.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Aiyana nodded.
“Okay, then. Thank you, Aiyana. You’ve been a big help.”
I restacked the photos with Cammie’s on top and slipped them back into my bag. Rising to my feet, I reached out to shake Kate’s hand.
“Thank you,” I said as she gripped my hand and gave it a firm shake. A spark of electricity sped up my arm and ignited my brain. “You’re going into politics?” I blurted out.
Kate dropped my hand as if I’d burned her, her expression shocked. “I’m thinking about it,” she said. “Nothing is official yet. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” I hedged. I really didn’t have an answer. Normally, making physical contact with a subject just gives me impressions. This much detail was uncommon, and a little disconcerting. “I think it’s a good idea,” I said, with a shrug. “I’d vote for you.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Kate countered.
She was right. I didn’t know anything about her, but I felt integrity rolling off her in waves. This was a woman who would never compromise to win an election. She’d make her decisions based on her principles. That was good enough for me.
I took out my cell phone as soon as I’d cleared the preschool grounds, speed-dialing my childhood friend Michael Burke, infamous white hat hacker. He picked up on the third ring.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“Hey, Michael. You might want to call me back on a secure line.”
There was a moment of silence, followed by a soft whirring noise before he responded. “I’m good to go. What have you got for me?”
I’m convinced Michael looks forward to helping me with my cases, even though he often complains when I call.
“A kidnapping. I have a possible suspect and I need everything you can find on her. I know where she works, but I need a home address, any criminal background, DMV info, and any religious organizations she’s affiliated with.” I could do the research myself, but Michael would be much faster.
“Name?”
“Camilla ‘Cammie’ Sutcliffe. She’s a nurse at the Palo Alto Medical Center.”
“Hang on while I take a quick look.”
I listened to lightning-fast keystrokes for about a minute before he came back on the line. “This may take a while. Apart from her employment, the woman is a ghost. I may be able to find her through utilities or property taxes. I’ll call you back in the morning.”
I sighed. Poor Sky.
“Okay. Thanks, Michael.”
“Who did Ms. Sutcliffe allegedly kidnap?” he asked.
“Four-year-old girl. Sky Solomon.”
“Ah, crap.”
“Yeah.”
After we ended the call I drove back to the marina, retrieved Buddy, and thanked Kirk for looking after my boy while I was working. We took a walk around the marina before I unlocked the office and called Jea.
She answered on the first ring, her voice desperate. Wishing I had better news, I gave her an update of everything I’d learned today, including Aiyana’s identification of Cammie as the woman who had taken Sky. I asked her not to share that info with anyone, and assured her that I’d have a line on Cammie’s whereabouts soon.
After we hung up I thought about calling Detective Halstaad to let her know about Aiyana’s ID, but I didn’t want her alerting Cammie that we were onto her. If she was holding Sky captive in her home and Halstaad attempted to question her without a search warrant, she’d undoubtedly move the child to a more secure location, complicating my job and prolonging Sky’s imprisonment. There was nothing more I could do until I heard back from Michael.
CHAPTER 15
Since I had a dinner and bar survey to do tonight, I called Elizabeth to see if she wanted to come with me. She picked up on the third ring.
“Where are you taking me?”
“How did you know that’s why I was calling?”
“I didn’t. I was just hoping. So where are we eating?”
“Edouard’s.”
She squealed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear or risk tinnitus. Edouard’s is a famous eatery on Montgomery Street in San Francisco, and it’s Elizabeth’s favorite place to stalk celebrities.
“What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
We ended the call and I sent a text to Bill asking if he could be home by 6:15ish. Even though Buddy is getting better about being left on the boat, I still hate leaving him home alone. Bill texted me back a few minutes later saying he could make that happen. I responded with a heart emoji.
Elizabeth was ready and waiting when I drove through the gates of Jack’s Hillsborough estate. She kissed him goodbye and climbed into the Bimmer, looking relaxed for the first time in months. She was wearing a burgundy, off-the-shoulder cocktail dress that I hadn’t seen before, with matching four-inch heels.
“You look fabulous,” I said, waving at Jack as I made a U-turn and headed back toward the street.
“I feel fabulous,” she said.
“Wow! What happened?”
“Jack called my mother last night and told her we’ve decided to elope!” She bounced happily in her seat.
“That’s great. Does that mean you’re cancelling the wedding cruise?”
“Nope. That’s the great part. He didn’t tell her the wedding was cancelled. He just told her we’d decided to elope, so we’re going to fly to Vegas and get married next weekend, then we’ll go ahead with the formal wedding and reception as planned!”
“Brilliant. No lie, so no guilt. Jack’s a genius.”
“He really is. When you dropped me at home last night he asked me if everything was okay, and I just started crying. I told him having my mom here would ruin the wedding for me. He tucked me into bed with some hot chocolate and asked me if I trusted him to handle the situation. I said I trusted him completely, and he said he’d take care of it. This morning he told me that he’d called my mom.”
“What did she say?”
“She said their tickets were non-refundable. Can you believe that woman? She wasn’t upset that she’d be missing her only child’s wedding. She was upset that she couldn’t get a refund on their damned airline tickets.”
“That’s pretty cold.” But not surprising, I thought.
“So Jack sent her a cashier’s check for a thousand dollars,” Elizabeth said.
“Amazing.”
“I know. So what’s new with you?”
“Well, Chet Fortune hired me to find out who was trying to kill him on Thursday morning, then he got murdered that night, and this morning I accepted a kidnapping case. A little girl.”
“Oh, honey. That’s awful! How old is the little girl?”
“She’s four.”
“When was she abducted?”
“On Tuesday.”
“The police have any leads?”
“None.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m waiting for Michael to get me background info on my primary suspect.”
“You already have a suspect? Wow! You’re good. Who is Chet Fortune and why does that name sound so familiar?”
“His yacht used to be docked at the marina. Wet Spot?”
“Oh yeah. The sex doll guy. Lily told me about that thing with the hose. What a character. So he hired you and then went and got himself killed?”
“Yep. After he hired me on Thursday he anchored out near Westpoint Slough, thinking it would be safer than his house or the marina. The Coasties found his body on board yesterday, and Bill caught the case.”
“Huh. Did he tell you anything?”
“Not exactly. He did take Buddy for a walk, leaving the murder book on the galley table, and I might have taken photos of every page in the binder.”
“Does Bill know you took photos?”
“No. Maybe. Probably. It doesn’t matter. Everyone assumed Chet had shot himself because he was alone on the boat and had a gun in his hand. If I hadn’t seen the pictures of the crime scene they’d still think it was a suicide.”
“Why. What was in the pictures?”
“First of all, his dinghy is missing. It’s not in his slip and it’s not on his yacht. So where did it go? Second, he was holding the gun in his right hand.”
“So?”
“So Chet was left handed. I watched him sign the contract in my office.”
“So someone wanted it to look like a suicide.”
“Either that or someone wanted it to look like a murder, but one committed by someone who didn’t know Chet well enough to know he was left handed,” I countered.
“Wait, did you say his dinghy was missing?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Chet gave Lily a tour of his boat a couple months ago. She said it was amazing. Teak brightwork everywhere! He asked her out, but when she told him she was a post-op TS he backed off.”
“Okay...”
“While he was giving her the tour, he told her he had a GPS chip installed in the Zodiac. It’s an expensive dinghy.”
“Huh. I wonder if he kept the GPS tracking app on his cell phone. If I can find the dinghy, maybe I can find a witness who saw the person who took it.”
We arrived in San Francisco, and after circling the block and finding no street parking, I drove into an underground garage on Montgomery. It was a short walk to Edouard’s.
Alicia, the matronly hostess, greeted us warmly. She said our table would be available in a few minutes and asked if we’d like to wait in the cocktail lounge. As always, the owners had requested both a dinner and a bar survey, so the lounge sounded good to me.
Both bartenders recognized Elizabeth immediately. Apparently my petite sex-bomb friend is more memorable than I am, at least more than I am when she’s around. She’d barely planted herself on a barstool when Brad, a handsome dark-haired rascal, placed a cocktail napkin in front of her and said, “Tall mudslide?”
Elizabeth giggled and nodded. Brad beamed at her and began preparing the drink. I sat down next to her and sent Bill a text telling him about the GPS chip in Chet’s Zodiac. After Brad had served Elizabeth her cocktail and she’d taken a sip and pronounced it, “Perfect,” he finally turned to me and said, “What can I get you?”
I could comment on his behavior in my report, but the truth is this happens everywhere we go, at least when the servers are hetero. Apparently petite redhead trumps lanky brunette.
“Campari and soda, please,” I said.
Brad prepared my drink and moved off to check on other customers. Edouard’s is always packed on the weekend, and almost every stool in the bar was occupied.
After a few minutes Alicia escorted us to a table for two. She handed us menus and said our server, Claude, would be with us momentarily. I smiled. Claude is my favorite waiter at Edouard’s. He’s six foot six and over three hundred pounds, with a café mocha complexion and a cherubic smile. Claude is an extremely professional server and he’s also a foodie. If I didn’t already have my taste buds set for the coulotte steak I’d take any recommendation he offered.
Elizabeth looked at her menu, occasionally peeking over the top to covertly search out any celebrities who were present. She was finally conceding to the fact that I needed to be inconspicuous while working. I’d been reminding her for years, but she was always agog at Edouard’s. Apparently those who were both famous and present tonight were not on her top ten list, because her cell phone remained in her clutch.
When Claude approached our table and saw the two of us his face lit up. It warmed my heart that he was doing so well in his chosen career. He’d recently been promoted to head-waiter and, while he now acted in a supervisory capacity, he loved serving and had no trouble doing both. Tonight he was dressed in a black tuxedo and white shirt with a scarlet cummerbund and a black bow tie.
“How are my favorite customers this evening?” he asked.
“I’m eloping next weekend,” Elizabeth said.
She loves Claude too, and, unlike me, she doesn’t need to keep her relationship with him purely professional.
“Oh. My. God!” Claude enthused. “Congratulations! I mean, I knew you were engaged. Who could miss that huge rock on your finger, but eloping is so romantic. Where are you going?”
“Vegas.”
“Really? Are you going to one of those chapels where you can be married by an Elvis impersonator?”
“Maybe. We haven’t decided yet.”
Claude turned to me. “Will you be going along?” he asked.
Elizabeth hadn’t actually invited me, so I had an awkward moment, not quite knowing how to respond. She saved me the trouble.
“Only if she can get time off from work,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze. I was relieved she understood that I had to put Sky first. “We’ll have a formal ceremony later. Nikki will be there for that.”
Claude nodded his approval and asked if we wanted to hear tonight’s specials. I knew he’d recite them perfectly and with enough enthusiasm to make me want to order everything, so I turned to Elizabeth.
“I already know what I want,” she said.
Claude took her order for the haricot vert salad and the stuffed lamb chops, smiling serenely as though remembering a liaison with those lamb chops before turning to me. I requested the coulotte steak with morel mushrooms in a Bordeaux reduction sauce. Just placing the order made my mouth water and Claude licked his lips as he made a note of my selection. I also requested the Caesar salad, partly because I love anchovies, and partly because I enjoy watching Claude assemble the salad at the table.
“To drink?” Claude inquired.
“Can you recommend a Cabernet?” I asked. Normally I don’t drink when I’m working, but a dry red wine would complement the entrée I’d chosen.
“We have a very nice Champoux Vineyard Cab. It has an excellent nose and an almost chewy texture with notes of black cherry, licorice, black pepper, and vanilla.”
“Wow. I’ll have a glass of that,” Elizabeth said, and I nodded. I love a nice meaty Cab.
Claude collected our menus and left us to contemplate the erotic culinary experience coming our way. While we were waiting for our salads I asked Elizabeth if Lily planned to accompany her
and Jack to Vegas.
“I haven’t told her yet. We just made our reservations this afternoon. Maybe I should give her a call.”
“When are you flying out?”
“Next Friday. That way we can scope out the chapels and take care of the marriage license paperwork, then have the ceremony on Saturday. Our return flight is on Sunday the seventeenth.”
“If I can’t make it will you have Lily take tons of pictures?”
“If she comes along I’ll ask her to film it for you.”
“You’re excited about this, aren’t you?”
“I actually am. Plus, it takes some of the pressure off of the wedding cruise, you know, since we’ll already be married.”
“What about the bachelor and bachelorette parties?”
“I guess we’ll have to cancel those,” she said, with a frown.
“We could reschedule them for the night before your formal wedding.”
“I don’t know. Let me talk to Lily and see what she thinks. I know she was looking forward to the lingerie party.”
Claude returned with a wheeled cart and served Elizabeth her haricot vert salad, then proceeded to create my Caesar. He expertly blended the raw eggs, olive oil, lemon, and Worcestershire sauce. The final ingredient was anchovies, and while he undoubtedly remembered how I loved them, he held out the small dish containing the tiny, delectable fish.
“All of them, please,” I said.
Claude smiled beatifically and dumped the salty fish into the dressing, whisking it thoroughly before tossing it with the romaine and garlicy croutons in a stainless steel bowl. Finally he sprinkled on the shaved Parmesan, then plated my salad and set it in front of me. I wanted to applaud, but restrained myself.
When we’d finished our salads, Claude removed the dishes and immediately returned with our entrées. I inhaled deeply as he placed the coulotte steak on the table, taking in the aroma of the morels combined with the Bordeaux reduction. Heavenly.
We thanked Claude and he said, “Enjoy,” as he left to check on his other tables.
Elizabeth and I were silent as we took our first bites. The coulotte steak was so tender I could cut it with my fork. I dipped it lightly into the sauce and speared half a morel before closing my lips around the tines. The burst of flavor was orgasmic and I was unable to stifle a moan. Next to me Elizabeth giggled and nudged me, nodding discretely toward a couple seated nearby. I glanced briefly in their direction. The woman had her back to us but her portly male companion was looking at me with undisguised lust. I ignored him and turned to Elizabeth who now had a mouth full of stuffed lamb chop. After swallowing she held her napkin to her lips and whispered, “Is that what your face looks like when you’re having sex with Bill?”