“One of the things I admire most about you,” he said in a measured, careful cadence and tone.
“Reid,” she murmured while stroking the kitten’s nose with her thumb, hoping to soothe the frightened feline. And maybe seeking a little calming comfort herself. Why did Reid’s almost-confession have her so jumpy, so...prickling with expectant energy? Maybe it was just a post-adrenaline reaction to her chase after the cat, but suddenly she was hyperaware of everything about Reid. The sounds of his exaggerated breathing, his wide hands gripping the steering wheel, his subtle musk scent. His brooding countenance as he navigated the streets of downtown Dallas, and the tension in his square jaw.
“You know that I don’t have any food or litter or anything for a cat at my house.”
She nodded. “So would you make a quick stop so I can buy all those things?”
He rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth into an I-should-have-seen-that-coming frown. “You also realize that your cat rescue expedition means we lost track of Aaron.”
She sent him a remorseful moue. “I’m sorry about that. What do you suppose Moira was doing here?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea, but I guaran-damn-tee you I’m going to find out.”
She rubbed the bedraggled kitten’s ears, and said quietly, “Your butler and his wife aren’t entitled to a private life? They have to approve every move with you or your siblings?”
“I’m not saying that. It’s the way they’ve handled these night trips away from the house that have my spider-senses tingling. They’re being evasive and secretive, and in my experience that spells trouble.”
She thought about the Colton butler and his wife, trying to come up with a logical explanation to counter Reid’s suspicions. “You know, I can’t help thinking of how much my father depends on his butler and vice versa. You have to wonder how Eldridge’s disappearance has affected the Manfreds. They’re probably grieving for him in their own way. Maybe...I don’t know...maybe they’re seeing a counselor and are embarrassed to tell you?”
He sent her a wry, skeptical glance. “I think that’s kinda reaching. They—” He stopped abruptly, his expression washing with dismay, then intensity. He slowed to a stop in the middle of the block and squeezed the steering wheel. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
“Pen, you’re a genius.”
She chuckled. “I am?”
He shifted into Park and turned to face her. “The Manfreds are loyal to Eldridge. And they’ve been surprisingly stoic throughout this whole ordeal. What if they know something we don’t?”
She sat taller, and her heart thrashed the way the kitten had when she’d captured it. “You think they killed him?”
He shook his head, and thumped the steering wheel with his fist. “No. They aren’t killers.”
“Then...” And then she caught his meaning. “You think they have your father stashed in that building.” She turned in the seat to look back down the city street in the direction they’d just come.
His face lit. “Worth checking out.”
Reid made a U-turn and drove back down the street to the building where he’d seen Moira climb into Aaron’s car. “Stay here and keep the doors locked.”
Pen held her breath as he approached the door to the building and tested it. The door didn’t open. Reid paced around the entrance, walked to the back and stared up at the windows to the upper floors before returning to the Range Rover.
“I’d bet my inheritance he’s here. But I don’t see a way in.” He cranked the engine again and gave the facade of the building one last look before pulling away from the curb.
“So...do you confront them? Or...what?”
He gave her a mysterious grin. “I think I’m going with ‘or what.’”
Chapter 16
The next morning, after going to the drive-through window of his favorite coffee shop for a cup of dark roast, Reid drove back to the area in downtown Dallas where he’d spotted Moira and Aaron the night before. He parked his car in the pay lot just down the street, but with a clear line of sight, from the building in question. He leaned his seat back, getting comfortable, prepared to wait. He’d been on many stakeouts in his days with the police department, but none as important to him as this one. Was Eldridge holed up in this run-down part of Dallas? If so, had he come willingly or—
A loud rapping on his window yanked Reid from his musings. A heavyset balding man, huddling against the brisk December gloom in a heavy, hooded coat, stared in the driver’s-side window.
Reid cracked open the window. “There a problem?”
“You gotta pay if you’re stayin’. Five dollars for the first 30 minutes and three for each additional hour.” Even from his distance, Reid could smell the cigarettes on the guy’s breath.
“Right.” He dug in his wallet and extracted three twenties. He lowered the window some more and handed them to the attendant. “That should cover me for a while.”
The attendant looked at the bills and grunted. “That it will.” He started to walk away, then turned back toward Reid. “You all right? When I walked up, you looked...” He hesitated as if looking for the right word.
Reid gave him a halfhearted grin. “I’m fine.” Before the attendant could walk more than a step, Reid called to him, “Can I ask ya something?” He earned a shrug in response. “What do you know about an older guy who lives in the building over there with the green awning? He’d have moved in about June? Skinny guy, short for a man. Midseventies.”
The attendant twisted his mouth as he thought and gave another shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe...”
Sighing, Reid pulled a couple more bills from his wallet. “Think harder. He might have been with another older gentleman or a petite woman with straight gray hair. Or getting in or out of a dark blue Mercedes?”
The attendant’s face brightened. “Now you’re speakin’ my language. Cars I notice.” He rubbed his face with a gloved hand. “Let’s see...I remember a blue Mercedes coming around here a couple times maybe...” He gave Reid a speculative glance. “Maybe even on a regular schedule, but...that info will cost ya another couple Jacksons.”
Reid scowled darkly at the extortionist but peeled two more twenties from his wallet. “How regular? What schedule?”
With a smug grin, the parking attendant shoved the bills in his pants pocket. “If they stick to routine, the Mercedes should be around to drop off the old guy in about an hour.”
“Drop him off? When did they leave? Where do they go?”
“How the hell should I know where they go? I’m here working the lot. But they leave about nine a.m. every Wednesday and come back around eleven thirty. The old lady sometimes helps the shorter man you mentioned to walk inside. The Mercedes will circle the block and come back to pick her up.” The attendant reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and tapped one out. “Why are you asking about the guy? You a cop?”
Reid gave the attendant a noncommittal shrug like he’d received. “Something like that. Thanks for the info.”
He rolled up his window, signaling an end to the conversation, and the guy shuffled back to his tiny booth.
Reid checked his watch. Returning in about an hour, huh? So the butler and his wife had been making daytime runs each week, as well. Interesting.
He lifted his cup of coffee and took a sip. He had nothing but time. Before he left downtown today, he’d find Eldridge and get some answers.
* * *
After feeding the new kitten and Nicholas their respective breakfasts, Penelope took her son down to the boat dock for a change of scenery. The kitten, which Penelope had dubbed Lucky, had warmed up to his rescuers the night before after recovering from his trip to the lake house and gobbling a large bowl of canned food. And Reid, for all his fussing about the cat, see
med a little smitten with Lucky that morning. Until Lucky had used Reid’s leg as a ladder to climb up to the counter where Reid was making scrambled eggs.
Pen chuckled to herself remembering the look of amusement on Reid’s face as the orange fuzz ball, tiny claws extended, clambered up his jeans. And his grunt of pain as those tiny claws dug into his skin when Lucky reached the thinner material of Reid’s T-shirt.
Once at the floating pier, Nicholas spent his time gathering rocks on the shore and bringing them out to the dock to fling into the water with glee. The kid had a room full of toys Reid had bought him, but he was happiest throwing rocks. Boys!
Penelope cast a gaze around at the peaceful setting. Reid had such a lovely setup here at the lake house. The quiet inlet, the surrounding woods, the tranquil water. Although the hardwood trees had dropped their leaves, the barren branches still had a serene sort of beauty. But even the calm of the water couldn’t take the edge off her nerves as she waited to hear back from Reid’s excursion today. Would he find his father? Was her father somehow involved with Eldridge’s disappearance? It wouldn’t surprise her. And, damn it, what did that say about how wide the gulf between them had grown?
Spotting the white egret that frequented the water’s edge, perched on a fallen log across the cove, she squatted next to Nicholas and pointed to the bird. “Look, sweetie. See the bird?”
“Buhd?” Nicholas scanned the shoreline, clutching at her jacket sleeve, and his face brightened when he spotted the water fowl. “Big buhd!”
She stayed in a crouch beside him, trying to see the lake setting from his perspective. A world of new sights, sounds, scents and discoveries. She allowed her thoughts to drift to Andrew, and all the firsts he’d never see with their son. A heaviness settled in her, and determined not to go down that track, not to get waylaid in regret, she shook her head and resolutely pulled her thoughts back to the here and now. Enjoying that moment with her son for the gift it was.
“H’llo? Mommy, h’llo?”
Called from her perusal of the lightly rippling water, she glanced at Nicholas. “Hmm?”
He’d managed to slide the emergency cell phone from her pocket without her noticing. He held the phone to his ear with a look of deep concentration. He babbled a few words, then fell silent before saying, “H’llo? H’llo?”
She chuckled. “Little mimic monkey.” She held out her hand to him. “But that’s not a toy. Give it to Mommy, please.”
When he didn’t obey, she repeated her request more firmly.
He turned from her and trotted a few steps away, moving close to the edge of the dock.
“Nicholas, be careful!” Pushing to her feet she moved quickly toward him to catch the back of his coat.
“No!” In a fit of two-year-old temper, Nicholas threw the secure cell into the lake.
Penelope gasped. “Nicholas! No! Bad behavior!”
Her toddler dropped on his behind and loosed a wail. “No, Mommy! Bad, Mommy!”
She growled under her breath. So much for savoring precious moments with her son. “Derailed by a terrible-twos tantrum.”
Pen hurried to the edge of the wood planks and lay on her stomach to reach into the cold water. She fished out the phone and tried to turn it on. The screen flashed on for a moment before flickering off.
“Oh, Nicholas!” She sighed as she scooped her unhappy boy into her arms and headed back to the house, praying Reid kept an ample supply of rice in his cabinet for a cell phone salvage effort.
The kitten greeted them with tiny mews as they came in the porch door and with a squeal of delight, Nicholas stopped to pat Lucky.
“Be gentle!” she warned and headed into the kitchen to explore Reid’s cabinets.
She knew Reid’s solution to the waterlogged phone would be to buy another one. But she wanted to prove to him that replacing things wasn’t always the answer. With time and a little care, the phone could be resurrected. She hoped. Saving a phone didn’t matter to her nearly as much as the principle she wanted to demonstrate. Some things were worth saving, even if it took a special effort. Phones, kittens...and relationships.
* * *
Approximately seventy-five minutes later, Reid yanked himself from deliberations on his relationship with Pen—even if we settle the questions surrounding her father, Eldridge, and Andrew’s death, am I ready to settle down? Be a father to Nicholas?—when Aaron’s dark blue Mercedes rolled to a stop in front of the apartment building. The back door of the sedan opened and a man wearing a trench coat, fedora, an obviously fake mustache and dark glasses—Reid snorted at the trite, useless disguise—eased carefully out to the sidewalk. He used a cane to hobble slowly toward the building’s door.
Reid was out of his car and jogging across the street in a matter of seconds. “Hey!” he called, then louder, “Eldridge?”
The stooped, trench coat–clad figure froze, then turned slowly toward Reid. When he spied his son, Eldridge’s expression appeared startled at first, then surprisingly relieved. His fake mustache looked all the more cheesy up close. “So...you found me.”
“A trench coat and fake mustache? Could you possibly be more cliché?” Reid shook his head at his father, who lifted his chin haughtily.
“It worked for Bogart. That’s good enough for me.”
Reid poked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Really? When did it work for Bogart? Which movie?”
Eldridge glared at him. “I don’t remember which one, I just... What do you want, Reid?”
Reid’s chest felt light with relief while at the same time his gut twisted with anger. “Answers. What are you up to? Why did you disappear on us without a word? We thought you were dead!”
“Sir?” Aaron called through a lowered window of the Mercedes. “Should I—”
Eldridge waved off his butler. “It’s all right. Go on home. I’ll talk to him.”
Aaron didn’t look convinced, but neither did the butler argue. Giving Reid one last concerned glance, he pulled away from the curb.
Eldridge ripped off the limp mustache and rubbed his upper lip. “There’s a greasy spoon on the next block. Buy me lunch and I’ll explain everything.”
Reid glanced down the street to the crooked sign that read Ken’s Eats and frowned.
“I know,” his father said before he could comment. “Horrendous ambiance, but the food is good and the waitress likes me.”
Cocking his head, he gave his father a skeptical look. “Define like.”
“I tip her well. Money can be very influential. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
“I prefer to win over women the old-fashioned way—with my charm and good looks.”
His father started tottering down the sidewalk. “Funny, I don’t see a ring on your finger. Your method must not be working too well.”
He started to mention his budding relationship with Penelope but swallowed the words. Did he have a relationship with his ex-partner’s wife? He had feelings for her, but if he wasn’t willing or able to commit to her, to be the father to Nicholas the boy deserved...
Instead, he just quirked an eyebrow and fell in step beside Eldridge. “Point taken, old man.”
Once inside the greasy-spoon diner, Reid scanned the interior, looking for an open booth. If the number of patrons was any indication, Eldridge just might be right about the quality of the food. He was just about to suggest they take a pair of empty spots at the end of the lunch counter when the waitress, a fiftysomething redhead who reminded him of Lucille Ball with a pixie cut, sashayed up to Eldridge with a toothy grin.
“Well, if it ain’t my favorite customer. How ya doing today, Burt?”
Reid shot his father a puzzled look. “Burt?”
Eldridge waved a hand to shush him. “My regular table available, sugar?”
“It
will be in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” She hustled off to an end booth where she began clearing empty dishes from the table where a customer sat idly reading his newspaper.
Eldridge canted toward Reid and muttered, “Hardly serves me to hide out from my family, have the world think something’s happened to me and then tell a loudmouth like her my real name, now, does it?”
Reid shook his head in wry amusement. “Whatever you say, Burt.”
The customer who’d been booted from his table gave them a glare as he passed.
Having cleared and wiped down the table where the newspaper reader had been sitting, their waitress gave a shrill whistle. “All ready, Burt.”
Eldridge led the way to the vacated booth and took the far seat.
“Black coffee, right?” she asked Eldridge and he nodded.
“Same,” Reid told her, and she hurried away to get their drinks. He glanced at the bench seat Eldridge had taken and rubbed his chin. “Um, that’s where I was going to sit.”
Eldridge gave him a blank look and aimed a finger at the bench across from him. “What difference does it make? Sit there.”
Reid tucked his hands in his jeans pockets and shifted his weight. “I always sit facing the entrance. It’s a cop thing.”
Eldridge looked at him as if his son had rocks for brains. “Why?” Then, “You’re not a cop anymore, so...” He waved his hand toward the other seat again.
A sharp pain sliced through him, and he tightened his jaw, trying to school his face, not let Eldridge see how his remark had stung him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Once a cop always a cop. I’m talking about a mind-set, not the job.”
His father sighed, but slowly slid from his seat. “For what it’s worth, I knew it would be you that found me. Hoped it would be you.”
Reid stiffened, raising his chin a notch. “What? Why?”
“’Cause you’re a good detective. No matter how things went down about your partner’s death, I knew you had the right stuff to figure out I was alive and come find me.” His father slid into the opposite booth bench with a groan. “Damn these old bones. Some days, I don’t feel worth shootin’.”
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