“It seems that wherever your friend was,” he went on, “she’d gone back to the apartment between the time that you were in there and when we went.”
“Nadine was there?” I gasped.
“No, but she’d been there. In fact, I see that you checked whether she’d taken anything with her or not, and she hadn’t at that time. That was pretty good thinking on your part.” He smiled again. “In any case, when we went, her suitcases were not in the closet where you’d seen them, and a lot of her clothes were missing.”
I sat very still, absorbing this news.
“Her makeup and toiletries were gone too.” He flipped the book closed again. “So, it looks like your friend is fine. Unfortunately, she isn’t being very thoughtful about letting people know where she is, but she’s been to the apartment to get some of her things.”
“But where is she?” I asked aloud, not really meaning to.
“Most of the time, in situations like this, there’s a guy involved. Girl meets up with someone, they hit it off, and she up and goes off with him somewhere. She’ll probably show up again in a couple of weeks or so, or she’ll come for the rest of her things. Either way, you can stop worrying about her.”
He asked me if I had any questions. When I said I didn’t, he stood, told me I’d done the right thing in reporting my concerns, and said he was glad things had turned out okay. He walked me to the door, where he shook my hand again and told me to come back and ask for him if I had any further concerns.
All the way home I told myself that I should be feeling a lot better.
I wasn’t.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You know what? I bet that the person who was at Nadine’s door that night, when she said ‘What are you doing here?’ was an old boyfriend!” Betts’s eyes lit up as she offered her theory. “And the reason the old guy couldn’t make out an answer was because … they were kissing!”
“Possibly,” I said, though I know doubt crept into my voice.
Betts and I were facing each other, seated on the big double swing in her backyard, where I’d gone after finding my own house deserted. I’d phoned Greg’s place to tell him the news and to see if he had any ideas on the subject, but Dr. Taylor told me he’d been called into work.
“Yeah,” she said dreamily. “They could have broken up over some silly fight, like I did with Derek, but they always kept loving each other. And then, finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and he came crawling back, just like Derek did.”
The “romantic” image she was trying to paint didn’t quite fit the way I saw her and Derek — the Squabble Champions! I tried to be fair and consider her idea on its own merits, aside from the unlikely comparison.
“So, how did he find her?” I asked.
“Huh?” Betts shifted back to reality with some difficulty. “What do you mean?”
“Nadine had just moved into a new apartment, remember? She didn’t have a phone hooked up or anything yet. How would an old boyfriend have found out where she was living?”
“Uh, he could have asked a mutual friend.”
“Possibly,” I repeated, no more convinced than I had been earlier. “But then, why didn’t she take anything with her when she first went off with him? Why wait a week to come and get her stuff?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t know how long she’d be gone the first time. Or maybe she had stuff kicking around his place from when they used to go out before. Or maybe he’s rich and he just bought her new things to tide her over for a while.”
I was pondering these suggestions when she interrupted my thoughts.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“That thing with your eyebrows.”
I realized I was arching my brows, though it had been entirely unconscious. I stopped.
“I know what it means, you know,” she went on. “You just assume automatically that I’m wrong. Probably you think you’re the only one who can figure things out, just because you got lucky with a couple of other crimes. Well, you know what I think?”
“What?” I asked, startled at the sudden outburst.
“I think you’re just inventing things in your head so you can run around playing the big detective.”
Betts’s accusation was unexpected, and it stung. It echoed something Greg had said a while back, though he’d been teasing. I began to wonder if there was some truth in it. After all, the police were satisfied there was nothing to worry about, and they were trained for that sort of thing.
“Betts, I hope I’m not doing that,” I said, trying to keep from getting angry. “I’m just worried about Nadine, that’s all. And I want to make sure she’s okay.”
She shrugged. “Anyway,” she said, “like the cop told you, she went and got her stuff, and that had to happen since you were in the apartment, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”
“I just wish I knew when her things were taken from her place, or if she was actually the one who got them.”
“Why, what’s the difference?” Betts was clearly bored with this conversation and ready to move on.
“Well, what if someone else came and took her stuff, to make it look like she was okay?”
“Why wouldn’t they just do that in the first place then? Why wait for a week or so?”
I didn’t answer, but that was mainly because I was thinking. Maybe there was a way to find out if it had actually been Nadine who’d gone to get her things. It was just yesterday when I’d talked to the tenants who’d been at home, so it wasn’t likely that any of them would have anything to add, but there were still the two apartments where I hadn’t gotten a response. And there was the crazy landlady. It wouldn’t do any harm to talk to her. Who knows, she could be clearheaded for a change.
Of course, there was a bit of a problem since Greg was working at the moment. I knew that Betts and Derek had plans in a little while, so she wouldn’t be able to go along either. If I went alone again Greg was going to flip out, and I sure didn’t want to have to hide it from him. I also didn’t want to wait!
An idea popped into my head then. It was a bit devious, but basically harmless. I stood up and steadied the swing so I could step off it.
“I think I’ll stop over at Broderick’s to see what time Greg gets off work,” I said. “I guess you have to get ready for your date with Derek anyway.”
“Yeah.” She perked up a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later. And stop worrying about Nadine, I’m sure she’s okay.”
“You’re probably right,” I agreed, trying to sound like I meant it. After all, that would be good practice for what I was about to do.
As soon as I got to Broderick’s, Greg’s face lit up like it always does when he sees me. I admit I kind of get butterflies in my stomach every time I see him too.
“Ah, fair damsel,” he greeted me, with a mock bow followed by a quick hug. “I thought you were at the mercy of your heartless taskmasters today.”
“I was, but it was a short shift. What time do you get off?”
“Not until closing,” he said, “so any sleuthing you have planned in that stubborn head is going to have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Actually, that’s all over,” I said with what I hoped looked like a smile of relief. “I went to see the police after work and they told me that Nadine’s fine. She’s been to her place to get some of her stuff and everything.”
I must have looked convincing because Greg didn’t even seem suspicious. He hugged me hard then and said that was great, and that I must be really relieved.
“Oh, yes!” I agreed, with my smile frozen on. Already, guilt was nagging at me. It wasn’t as though I was actually lying to him though, was it? After all, that was what the police had said, and just because I didn’t necessarily believe everything was okay, that didn’t mean I was right.
“So, I guess I can close this case,” I added innocently, “though there are a couple of things I want to find out — just to, you know, ti
e up a few loose ends.”
“Yeah? What kind of things?”
“Well, not much. I think I’ll stop over and see if the crazy landlady happens to know when she’ll be back. Just little things like that.”
This time Greg didn’t seem the least bit concerned that I was going back to the apartment building alone. Why would he? As far as he was concerned, the whole matter was resolved, Nadine was safe and sound, and I’d been worrying for nothing all along.
I left the gas bar a few moments later, forcing myself to saunter along in the most casual way until I was out of Greg’s sight. Then I started speed walking so I’d get to the apartment building as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Guilt was really starting to do a number on me by the time I reached the apartment building and stepped inside the gloomy hallway. No matter how much I tried to tell myself that I hadn’t actually lied to Greg, I knew I had.
What I’d told him about the police was true enough — to a point — but the rest of it was an out-and-out lie. I wasn’t at the apartment to ask the landlady when Nadine was coming back — I was there to continue looking into her disappearance.
I pushed those thoughts aside for the moment and headed to one of the two apartments where no one had answered on my last trip. This time the door opened almost immediately and I found myself facing a burly giant of a man. He stood around six feet four and had long hair, a full beard, and the most massive hands I’ve ever seen. His shoulders seemed to span the full width of the doorway and muscles bulged out on his arms, stretching the fabric of his T-shirt sleeves.
“Yeah?” His voice was deep and sounded a lot like an animal growl.
“I, uh …” I tried to speak, but my words seemed to get stuck in my throat.
“You sellin’ cookies or sump’n?” he asked. At the same time, he reached behind him, his hand dipping into a pocket and coming out with a worn black wallet.
That act seemed to give me back my courage. I figured if he was the sort who buys cookies and stuff from kids then he probably wasn’t as scary as he looked.
“No, I’m not selling anything,” I said quickly. I suppose I should have been insulted that he thought I was a little kid out selling Girl Guide cookies, but I was too relieved to think about that just then.
“Actually, I’m looking for a friend of mine. Nadine Gardiner. She lives in this building.”
“Well, she don’t live here,” he said, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “Must be one of the other apartments. Here, it’s just me and Echo, the talking parakeet that don’t actually talk, though I paid for a bird that kin talk. Got ripped off, I guess, though I s’pose I could take him back. He came with a guarantee but you know how it is. Dumb things look at you with their heads cocked to one side a few times and you feel like they’re attached to you. Truth is, only thing a bird cares about is did you buy the kind of seed they like.”
A thought flashed through my head about Mr. Stanley’s nervous cat, Ernie, and I almost laughed imagining how frightened he’d be if he knew there was a bird living just down the hall from him! Poor Ernie would probably spend his days hiding under the bed.
“No, no,” I hastened to explain, “my friend lives upstairs. But she’s been missing, or, at least I haven’t been able to find her, for about a week now.”
“Missing?” He frowned. “Don’t her folks know where she is?”
“She lives alone,” I said. Then I went over it all real quick — what had happened. It seemed odd, talking so casually to this enormous guy who, quite frankly, looked kind of dangerous.
“So, she’s older’n you?” he asked.
“Yes. We work together, at the new restaurant, The Steak Place.”
“I know the place,” he nodded. “I go in there for takeout pretty regular since I work nearby a few nights a week and I like to get a feed before the place closes. My own shift doesn’t end until a bit later, and I get pretty hungry.” He patted his ample girth as if to prove it. “Anyway, I’m off track here. Did you say you called the police?”
“Yes.” I nodded and filled him in on what they’d found.
“Hungh,” he grunted. “Could be just like they said, or it could be another way altogether.”
“That’s why I’m asking people in the building if they heard or saw anything.”
“Wish I could help you,” he said, “but it just happens that I been away now for, oh, must be two weeks I s’pose. Just got back to town day before yesterday, picked up Echo, and came home. So, I wasn’t around when your friend went missing.”
“And you haven’t happened to notice a young woman — or anyone else — carrying a suitcase in the hallway, since you got back?”
“’Fraid not. Sorry.”
“Well, thanks very much for your time,” I said. I paused, a little hesitant about the idea of offering this guy my phone number, though he’d been nice enough. He solved the quandary for me though.
“Hang on and I’ll get you my card,” he said, “’case you have any more questions or whatever. If you want, you can leave your number too. I’ll be more’n happy to call if I remember anything, or if I see your friend.”
It surprised me to hear that he had a business card. It sort of lent him a bit more respectability than his appearance and manner of speaking had. And he had seemed genuine in his desire to help, even though he didn’t know anything. I decided to go ahead and give him my name and number.
I jotted them down on a sheet in the little coiled memo book I’d started carrying around after the last time I’d been there and had to use an old receipt. Not at all sure if I was doing the right thing, I tore out the page and passed it to him when he returned with a business card. I glanced at the name on it.
“Well, thanks again, Mr. Elliot.”
“Anytime,” he said, thrusting out his hand, “and call me Neil.”
I shook his hand, slipped his card into my pocket, and went on to the next apartment.
I knocked twice and waited for a few minutes before giving up on anyone being home there again today. I was still standing there, wondering if the apartment was even rented, when a voice behind me made me jump so high it’s a wonder I didn’t bang my head on the ceiling.
“You won’t find anyone there, missy.”
I whirled around to find myself facing the landlady. She was in fine form, wearing a brightly flowered housecoat and fluffy pink slippers. Her grey hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a comb in several days.
I had to swallow hard and take a couple of deep breaths before my heart stopped pounding from the fright she’d given me. How she managed to walk so silently on these creaky old floors was beyond me, but I sure hadn’t heard her coming. Maybe she knew exactly where to step, or maybe her frail little body didn’t put enough pressure on the boards to make them creak.
“Is this apartment empty then?” I asked when I could speak again.
“Been empty for months,” she nodded. “I don’t like to see anyone take it either, haunted as it is.”
“Haunted?” I echoed.
“Haunted something terrible,” she said, her head bobbing up and down again. “You don’t want to go in there, believe me.”
“What makes you think it’s haunted?” I asked.
“Oh, I hear the sounds, the groans and screams,” she whispered, leaning forward so that her face was almost touching mine. “They think I don’t know they’re in there, but I know all right.”
“When did you hear these screams?” I asked, a chill of fear running through me.
“When, you say? When? I’ll tell you when. First thing nearly every morning. They’re in there all right, screeching and moaning, only when the police went to look, they couldn’t find anything. But they’re there all right. They’re there.”
As I realized that she hadn’t heard anything related to Nadine’s disappearance, I felt incredibly stupid for having listened to her craziness in the first place. It seemed a bit unlikely that there’d be a s
ingle unit in the whole place rented if there was daily screaming and moaning in one of the apartments. Obviously, it was another of her nutty imaginings.
“Well,” I said, humouring her, “it’s good that there’s no tenant in there then.”
“Say, you’re the same one that was here before,” she said. “For the girl upstairs.”
“Yes, I am,” I said. “In fact, I was wondering if you might have seen her in the last few days.”
“I told you,” she said, keeping her voice low, “to ask Millie about that.”
“Oh, yes, I forgot to talk to Millie,” I said brightly. “I’ll get right on that, then.” As embarrassing as it is to admit this, I’d already asked around to see if anyone knew someone named Millie, just in case there was some clue there. Of course, I’d come up blank.
She nodded, as though we were co-conspirators. Then she slid noiselessly back down the hallway and into her own apartment, closing the door just as silently.
I considered going back around to the other apartments to ask if anyone had seen Nadine taking suitcases out since I’d talked to them yesterday, but it was getting a bit late and Mom and Dad would be worried about me if I didn’t soon get home.
I can always check on that tomorrow, I thought. To be perfectly honest, I was starting to doubt myself. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that the door hadn’t been closed tight when I’d been there yesterday, so I couldn’t be certain whoever took Nadine’s things had done it in the last twenty-four hours. When I’d been there yesterday, it had looked the same as I’d left it, but since I hadn’t actually gone inside, I couldn’t be absolutely sure.
The only thing I was really sure about was that I seemed to be getting nowhere in my search for Nadine.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Anagging conscience isn’t something you can get away from, and mine was bothering me something terrible by the time I got home that night.
It might have been because I hadn’t found out anything new on my trip to the apartment building, which meant I’d lied to Greg for absolutely nothing. I could well imagine how he was going to react when I told him the truth, and I wasn’t looking forward to it one bit, let me tell you.
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