I put a hand on her arm and bent to look her in the eye. This close, I could tell that this last bout of crying was just one of many. Ella’s eyes were swollen, and her nose was red and raw. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing.” There was a huge pottery mug on the sink and Ella reached for it, took a swig, then clutched it in both hands. “Would you like some tea? I have mint. And yerba maté. It’s a wonderful antioxidant, you know.”
I might not know what was what when it came to herbal tea, but I knew shock when I saw it. I plucked the ice-cold cup of tea out of her hands and took her by the elbow to pilot her over to the oak table in the middle of the room. There was a stack of magazines on the nearest chair. I swept them onto the floor and plunked Ella down.
I grabbed another chair. There was a bowl of half-eaten Cheerios on it, long soggy and in milk that was quickly morphing from liquid to chunky. As quickly as I could and careful not to breathe, I took it to the sink. When I was done consigning it to the nether regions of the disposal, I pulled the chair over so that I was knee to knee with Ella and took her hands in mine.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh, Pepper!” Ella took a deep breath and let it go on the end of a wobbling sigh. “It’s been a very long weekend.”
I wanted to say, no duh! but a detective is nothing if not diplomatic. At least when she’s dealing with someone she actually likes.
Ella sniffled. “It all started on Friday,” she said. “Friday evening. You know, I worked late. I had to get the next issue of the Garden View newsletter done, and I did, and I brought it home to proofread. I can get it for you if you’d like to look it over.” She made to get up out of the chair and reach for the briefcase I saw near the back door.
I held her in place. “Newsletter, later,” I said, keeping it short and simple, convinced it was all she could process. “Now, back to Friday night…”
“Oh, yes. Friday. I worked late.” She nodded. “I got home just as Rachel and Sarah were headed out. They were going to the boys’ varsity lacrosse game at school, and I wanted to make sure they ate something before they left, and they were running late, and their friends were here to pick them up and they were out in the driveway beeping the horn, and I needed to ask Rachel about that chemistry test she took Friday afternoon, of course, and Sarah had that paper for English, the one about Romeo and Juliet, and the phone rang and it was Jim from the office who had a question about the cost of our latest shipment of office supplies and—”
She blinked and sniffled.
“I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. Oh, Pepper, I can’t even bear to admit what a horrible, terrible, awful mother I am! It was so busy and so hectic, I never even thought about Ariel. What kind of mother does that? What kind of mother forgets one of her children?”
A fresh cascade of tears started, and I knew that this time she wouldn’t be easily soothed. I went to the sink, dumped Ella’s cold tea, filled the mug with water, and stuck it in the microwave. While it was nuking, I rummaged through the nearest cupboard, looking for an herbal tea that sounded wholesome. Indian gooseberry won. I figured anything with a name that goofy had to be good for something.
I didn’t even bother to try and get through to Ella again until I plunked the tea bag in the steaming water and added a squirt of honey from the plastic bear nearby. When I handed her the cup, she managed a watery smile.
“Once the girls were gone and the house was quiet,” Ella continued, “that’s when I thought about Ariel. I just assumed…Well, I mean, who wouldn’t? I just assumed she’d gone with Rachel and Sarah. I made some dinner, watched some TV, took a bubble bath. But when the girls got home from the game…it was late, they’d gone to Geracci’s for pizza and they even brought me a couple pieces.” She glanced toward the countertop in back of me where the cardboard box still sat, a long string of mozzarella hardened on the side. “When they got home, that’s when I realized Ariel wasn’t with them. Rachel and Sarah, they said they hadn’t seen her at the game. Or here at home. They had no idea where she was.”
“Ariel.” I nodded, confirming my worst fears to myself. On the whole, Ella’s girls are good kids. At least two of them are. Rachel and Sarah are as respectful as teenagers can be, they get decent grades, and their sense of fashion, though certainly not inspired (they are related to Ella, after all), was coming around thanks to the years they’d known me.
Ariel was another story.
“She’s not a bad kid,” Ella said, and she must have been reading my mind, but obviously not clearly. Ariel was, indeed, a bad kid. Bad grades. Bad behavior. Bad hygiene. Bad manners. Bad taste.
Ariel was everything her mother was not. I suppose, in Ariel’s fifteen-year-old mind, that was the whole point.
I had little patience for a kid who was that much of a mess. I sat back, and yeah, I was pissed. Then again, I remembered the time Ariel went joyriding with some kid she barely knew, who, it turned out, had been driving a stolen car. And the time Ariel pawned Rachel’s watch so she’d have money to go see Avatar. And the time she stomped the family Nintendo—she claimed it was an accident, but we all knew better—just because Sarah was better at fighting Koopa Troopa paratroopers.
Not that any of this affected me personally. Which meant that in the great scheme of things, I really shouldn’t/didn’t care. But facts were facts, and fact is, I like Ella a whole bunch. She isn’t just my boss. Ella is my friend, and yes, as corny as it sounds, she’s family, too, especially since my mother lives in Florida and my dad is in prison (Medicare fraud…it’s a long story). I’d seen the way Ariel’s thoughtless behavior twisted Ella into painful knots of worry. No way was I about to forgive the kid for doing it again.
I didn’t have to lie to Ella (well, except when it came to my love life and ghosts, but that doesn’t count) so I didn’t even try to hide my exasperation. “What did Ariel do this time?” I asked.
And really, was I surprised when the waterworks started up again?
“A…ri…el…” Ella blubbered. “Ariel ran away from home!”
This was not something I was expecting. Ariel was bad, but she wasn’t stupid. At least I’d never thought so before.
“Oh, Pepper! I don’t even know where to begin. You see, there’s this boy, he’s in Ariel’s class, and he’s nothing but trouble. I know, I shouldn’t judge, but this isn’t just opinion, it’s a fact. Rachel and Sarah say so. All the other kids say so. They say he’s…well, like a gangster or something. You know, all attitude and with his pants down around his ass.”
I knew before that Ella was upset, but this proved it. Sweet little Ella never used words like ass. The fact that she didn’t even blush when she said it solidified the seriousness of the situation.
“His name is Gonzalo, and I mean, really, who names their kid Gonzalo? No matter.” She shook away her momentary lapse into political incorrectness as inconsequential. “What matters is that he’s a bad influence on Ariel. And when I realized she wasn’t with Sarah and Rachel, and she wasn’t in her room, and nobody had seen her since Friday afternoon at school…” Ella pulled in a sharp breath, steeling herself. “I know you’re not going to believe this, Pepper, but you might as well know the ugly truth right up front: I freaked.”
One look at the state of the kitchen and I could have argued the point. I believed it, all right. Ella didn’t give me a chance to mention it. She took a noisy slurp of Indian gooseberry and barreled right on.
“The first thing I thought was that something must have happened,” she said, jumping around in her story the same way she was wiggling in her chair. “You know, the way most mothers would. I called every hospital in town, and I talked to every emergency room, every shift. I checked and re-checked my phone, too, just to make sure there weren’t any messages. I had Rachel and Sarah call Ariel’s friends, and none of them had seen her, either. Then of course, I thought of Gonzalo.”
I could see where the story was headed, and while I didn’t exactly app
rove, considering that Ariel was only fifteen, I had been a hormone-driven teenager myself once. I understood, and I nodded to prove it. “You know how that is, Ella, she’s young and she’s probably got this whole romantic notion about being in love. She was with her boyfriend, right?”
She shook her head and kept on shaking it. “But that’s just it. I talked to his parents. I even made them get this Gonzalo character and put him on the phone. He hadn’t seen Ariel, either.”
Right about then, I wondered about the properties of Indian gooseberry for settling an upset stomach. I could have used it, because mine was suddenly jumping around like a SeaWorld dolphin with a fish dangling over the tank. My logical self gave me a not-so-gentle reminder that detectives shouldn’t be prone to panic. I told it to shut up. Ella was my friend, and my friend was upset. I raised my voice. It was the only way I could hear myself over the sudden, staccato pumping of my heart.
“If she wasn’t with Gonzalo—”
“Exactly what I thought.” Ella slurped up another mouthful of gooseberry tea. “I mean, I guess I didn’t know what I thought. My head was spinning and my stomach was turning. The girls and I, we stayed up all Friday night, making phone calls. I’ve never been so worried. And then Saturday, when we didn’t hear anything, that’s when we called the police.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
OK, my voice was a little sharp, and that wasn’t fair to a woman who was going through what Ella was going through. But honestly, how could I help myself?
I jumped out of my chair and paced the Good Housekeeping and Time–littered floor. “Ella, you know I would have come over. You know I would have helped you look. Why didn’t you call?”
“I should have. Of course I should have. You’ve certainly proven yourself over and over again, Pepper. You have a way with mysteries. You should have been the first person I asked for help. But really…” A fresh cascade of tears started, and Ella didn’t even try to wipe them away. They trickled down her cheeks and plopped into her mug.
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” she admitted. “I was trying. Oh, I was trying so hard to be logical and unemotional and sensible. But when something like that happens to your baby…” she sobbed. “It took every ounce of strength I had just to make the call to Jeffrey.”
As if I’d just gone one-on-one with a ghost, I froze. “Jeffrey?” I choked out the name. Jeffrey was Ella’s ex, and though she tried her plump-little-sparkly-lady darndest to keep a stiff upper lip when his name came up, I am nobody’s fool when it comes to love. I could read the subtext.
Jeffrey was a schmuck.
“I haven’t talked to him in…oh, at least a year.” Ella put down her mug and plucked at the newspapers on the table with nervous fingers. “There isn’t much I have to say to Jeffrey, not anymore, not after he’s pretty much ignored the girls all these years. What kind of man does that and calls himself a father?” Her voice brimmed with anger. “What kind of man walks out on his family when his girls are just little? Then never calls them on the phone? He can’t even be bothered with birthday cards. And now…” Tears trailed down her cheeks and she burst into tears. “Now they know their mother is just as bad!”
“You’re not. No way.” I hurried over and sat back down again. At least if I kept looking Ella in the eye, it might help bring her back to reality. I did just that and said, “You’ve raised those girls all by yourself, all these years. You’d do anything in the world for them, Ella, and they know it. Just because you thought Ariel was with Rachel and Sarah, that doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother, it just means you’re human. You’re not anything like Jeffrey. What happened wasn’t your fault. It was Ariel’s fault. Ariel’s decision. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Big points for me, my strategy worked, at least a little. Ella sniffled and gulped. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right, Pepper. I’m sorry. I can’t help but feel a little overdramatic. Worrying about Ariel, then dealing with Jeffrey…well, dealing with Jeffrey always does that to me. And when I finally got ahold of him, do you know what that idiot said to me?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. Her voice churning with anger, Ella went right on. “He told me he had an important meeting this morning. That I should call him at noon, Seattle time, that he’d be out of his meeting by then, and I could update him about the situation and then he could decide what to do. Decide?”
So much for keeping her grounded.
Ella hopped out of her seat, her cheeks bright with spots of color, her eyes blazing. “If I was in Seattle and someone told me my daughter was missing in Cleveland or any other place on earth, I’d be on the first plane, or the first Greyhound bus, or hell, Pepper, I’d walk if I had to! I’d walk all the hell the way to Ohio, because what the hell! I’d sure as hell want to know what the hell happened to my child!”
I stood, too, and fought to keep from getting caught up in the tidal wave of emotion surging through the kitchen. “Which proves it,” I pointed out. “That proves you’re a good mother. Right?”
She gave me a begrudging smile and a nod, right before all the starch went out of her shoulders.
I put a hand on her arm and pressed her back into the chair.
“So…” I didn’t bother to sit, too. Sure, I’d been doing all I could to calm Ella down, but by this time, my stomach was flip-flopping and my head was spinning. I was already making mental notes about where we could look for Ariel and who we should talk to. Any other time, any other circumstance, I would have put flaming sticks under my fingernails rather than call Quinn Harrison, my former sweetie and a Cleveland Police detective. Yeah, things had ended that badly. For Ella, though? For Ella, I was willing to make an exception.
I went to grab my phone. I had erased Quinn’s number, but no matter, I still remembered it. Damn it.
“I’m sure the Shaker Police are working as hard as they’re able,” I told Ella. “But we’ll call in reinforcements. Quinn’s got pull.”
“Quinn?” Ella’s eyes lit for an instant. But she was back to sobbing the next. “You’d do that? For me? Oh, Pepper!” I’d just started dialing the phone when she popped out of her chair and threw her arms around me. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t have a chance to connect the call, because the next moment, Ella said, “You don’t need to do that, Pepper. I appreciate it, but really, you don’t need to. Ariel came home last night. She went to school this morning.”
I let go a long breath. That is, right after I disentangled myself from Ella’s arms. That way, I could give her a better why-didn’t-you-tell-me-that-sooner look when I blurted out, “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”
She blinked like a surprised owl. “Oh, well…I guess I haven’t been thinking straight. If I told you at the start—”
“I wouldn’t have been worrying my fool head off!”
Ella smiled. She squeezed my hand. “Thank you,” she said.
All the worry and emotion drained out of me, and I plunked back down in the chair.
“She was with a girl named Margot, a friend I don’t know,” Ella said before adding quickly, “That doesn’t forgive what she did, of course. What she put us all through. But it does explain why we couldn’t find her. Even Rachel and Sarah, they didn’t know Ariel was hanging out with Margot. Margot’s parents were spending the weekend out at one of those indoor water parks in Sandusky. They invited Ariel along.”
Anger rushed in to replace all the concern I’d been feeling only moments before. “And Ariel couldn’t have called to tell you this?”
Ella shrugged. “She didn’t think it was any big deal.”
“I hope you grounded her for life.”
Another shrug. “I told her we’d talk after school today.” Ella sighed and her shoulders shook. “These last couple days have really taken the wind out of my sails. I called Jim this morning and told him I wouldn’t be at work today. You can take my car and head to the office. I’ll…” She looked around the kitchen. Her eyes filled with tears and he
r lower lip trembled. “I’ll just stay here and get things straightened up.”
“Wait until Ariel gets home and make her clean up the kitchen. And relax.” I patted Ella’s arm. “You don’t need to worry anymore. Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy?”
“Of course. I’m as happy as can be.” Ella dissolved into tears, hiccupping out the rest of what she had to say. “I’m relieved that Ariel is OK. And grateful. It’s just…It was like a terrible flashback. All the worry and the wondering and the waiting. It made it all so real again. So real and so horrible. You know, the whole thing about what happened to Lucy Pasternak.”
3
Stammering is so not a good look for me!
Good thing Ella and I were the only ones in the kitchen, and Ella was too busy blubbering to notice what I was up to.
Thinking about the ghost on the rapid, I stammered awhile longer before I finally blurted out, “Lucy Pasternak? What…What are you talking about?”
Ella snuffled. She got up, grabbed a paper towel, and wiped her eyes. “Lucy was a friend of mine,” she explained. “She disappeared back in 1966. When Ariel was gone…well, can you blame me? I know it was a long time ago. I know I should be over it by now. I know that sometimes I let my imagination run away with me, but…Of course as soon as I realized Ariel was missing, I thought about Lucy. And Lucy…” She flopped back down into her chair. “After that night, no one ever saw Lucy again.”
Technically not true, but this didn’t seem the moment to point it out.
“Over the years,” Ella said, “I’ve shown the girls old pictures and told them stories about Lucy. She was three years older than me, and we sort of grew up together. Lucy was an only child, and so was I. I guess it was natural that we were both looking for a sister. Lucy was everything I wanted to be. She was beautiful and popular. Her parents were really cool, not uptight and traditional like mine. They let Lucy go to parties, and her mom bought Lucy all the latest fashions. You know, miniskirts and knee-high boots and patterned tights. I idolized Lucy!” Troubled, Ella shook her head. “I would think after all these years and all the times that Ariel’s heard about Lucy and how she disappeared, it would have sunk in. That she would be more responsible, more considerate. But maybe…maybe if she heard the story again? From you?”
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