by Alice Sharpe
Could she ask him about her? No, she decided. A cry in the night was not an open invitation to pry.
The bathroom door opened and a freshly showered Jack stood framed in the doorway for an instant.
“That sweater looks great on you,” he said as he walked back into the room. His own clothes consisted of black boots, gray pants and a charcoal sweater. Damp, black hair curled around his ears. He looked urbane and pulled together and yet now that she knew him a little better, totally approachable.
“Thanks,” she said. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I got to thinking that maybe Sabrina called Buzz after you left her to rest. Maybe she realized she needed to be with him. Maybe she left on the run to drive back to Portland to catch a flight—”
“Wait a second,” he said. “Slow down. Getting to Antarctica isn’t a piece of cake. There are no direct flights. It takes some planning.”
“But it could be done.”
“Maybe. The airport is three hours from here, though. In all that time she couldn’t stop and contact me or answer one of my calls?”
“There may be a reason. Cell phones run out of battery or break.” She studied her feet for a second before adding, “I just realized that I’ve done the same thing.”
“In what way?”
“I left without explanation, although people did see me drive away. I came to the coast without telling anyone where I was going, I’m not registered at any hotel and I haven’t answered my phone even once. The people in my life are just as clueless about me as we are about Sabrina.”
“You need to call your mother or Danny.”
“I know. I will. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself that it didn’t even cross my mind until now. Does that give us hope about Sabrina just wandering off for some reason and not thinking to call?”
“The situation, as far as I know, isn’t quite the same. She elicited my help. I don’t think she’d leave me hanging. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, it just seems unlikely. And I’m not discounting how much she must have wanted to run to Buzz, but he’s currently aboard a Russian ship with a bunch of other scientists from all over the world visiting islands no one else ever goes to. Right now getting to him is a pretty daunting task.”
Sophie took a deep breath. “Don’t take this the wrong way but is it possible you said something to her yesterday that would cause her to cut you out of the loop?”
If someone had asked her that question, she knew she would have immediately replayed every word she’d uttered the day before, but Jack just shook his head.
Such confidence!
“But you make a good point. Yesterday she was adamant about protecting Buzz but she may have changed her mind. It’s possible she contacted him. I’ll think of some way to find out if he’s heard from her. But we also need to talk to her coworkers. She said they were like family. Maybe she ran to one of them for help.” He looked down at Sophie and smiled. “I’m sorry I jumped on your idea when you first broached it. I shouldn’t have interrupted you.”
Her hand landed on his arm and once again she got that tingly feeling, but this time she knew it had nothing to do with his clothes. It was just him, plain and simple. He probably affected everyone this way. “It’s no big deal,” she said. “We’re both on edge.”
He glanced at her hand before meeting her gaze. Something passed between them; Sophie had no idea what. She removed her hand while struggling to think of something to say. He took care of it. “I was hoping the coffee got here. I hate the stuff you make in the room.”
She tore her attention away from him, not an easy feat. “It did come,” she said. “It’s in the hall.”
“I’ll get it,” he told her and broke the connection that had fused them together for a few seconds by striding to the door. She cleared the table.
“Have a seat if you’re hungry,” he said as he kicked the door closed behind him and carried the lidded tray into the room. “I also ordered bacon and eggs for two.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said, claiming one of the chairs. As he set the lid aside, she reached to pour the coffee, then paused as she glanced at the plates of goodies.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She smiled up at him as she set aside the coffee thermos. “What’s that perched beside the salt and pepper? It’s so cute.” She lowered her fingers.
Jack grabbed her hand. “Don’t touch it,” he cautioned.
“Why not? Maybe the hotel—”
“The hotel had nothing to do with this,” he interrupted, leaning down to look at the little folded figurine.
“Then who did?” she asked.
“I believe we can thank the guy you recognized in the photo.”
“The one you think has Sabrina?”
“Not anymore I don’t,” he said, peering closely at the tray. “Sabrina received a couple of foxes folded out of dollar bills just like this one when she was up in Astoria. Another one showed up on her breakfast tray yesterday morning, sixty miles south of here and following the falling rock incident.”
“Odd.”
“If the man who is planting them took her or enticed her away, he’d know she wasn’t in this room. For that matter, if it’s the same guy he’d also know she wasn’t in the garage last night. That means he thinks you’re Sabrina, which means he doesn’t know she’s missing, which probably means she isn’t missing at all, she’s just gone off somewhere and, like you said, something happened to her phone.”
“That’s good news, right?” Sophie asked.
“I think so.” He opened his pocketknife to a pair of tweezers. “Will you please get me one of those plastic sleeves they wrap around the water glasses?” he said as he removed the fox from the tray.
“Fingerprints?” she asked as he slid it into the plastic she fetched. He nodded. “Why would this cute little thing frighten Sabrina?” she asked.
Jack took the plastic from her and tucked it in his suitcase. When he turned back to her, his expression was thoughtful. “She received two or three of these before she left Astoria, all anonymously. And now they’re following her on her vacation. It’s not the fox that’s frightening, it’s the intent behind it. Someone thumbing their nose at her, saying, ‘I can get to you whenever I want. I’m watching you.’”
“But why fold it out of a dollar bill?”
“I don’t know. How long ago did the tray arrive?”
“It came to the door right as you turned off the shower.”
“Ten, fifteen minutes,” he said. “That means that whoever is stalking Sabrina Long Cromwell stood outside that door waiting for an opportunity to interact with her. The tray being left must have made his day.”
She looked from his gaze to the bounty of untouched food. “I don’t think I can eat any of that,” she said.
“Me neither, but you’ve started me thinking like a detective again. See if you can find more of the plastic bags. I’ll take a sample of everything on that tray and have it analyzed to see if whoever is taunting her with folded money is also trying to poison her. While I do that, why don’t you call down for another tray. This time we’ll leave the door open.”
* * *
THE EMPLOYEE WHO delivered the second tray now took away the first. Before he left, Jack showed him the photo of the hooded guy on his phone, but the kid denied ever seeing the man and knew nothing about what happened after he left the tray in the hall.
After picking at their new breakfast, Sophie turned on her phone. “Better get this over with,” she said with a glance at Jack, and he could feel her stress level rise. “Mom, hi, it’s me,” she finally said.
Jack glanced at her face as she obviously listened to her mother. She frowned at last and seemed to measure her words. “I know I’m lucky,” she said. “I know he’s a great catch.”
She
listened some more and he found himself feeling fidgety on her behalf.
“Wait, what?” After a few seconds, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe, I have to think about it...Yeah, I’m crazy, I get it. Listen, I’ll be home tonight sometime...No, please don’t call Danny. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
She listened again, her expression now impatient. “Well, I guess it’s good I’m so predictable, isn’t it?” she finally said and ended the call.
She looked at him immediately and he smiled.
“Feel better?” he asked her.
“No. Let’s get out of here.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“No,” she said. “Last night the desk clerk said Sabrina is booked through Tuesday.”
Sophie obviously wanted to get back to business. “Then we won’t check her out of the hotel,” Jack said after a moment’s thought. It was kind of hard to picture her coming back here but if she didn’t, what did that say, that she wasn’t able to return, that she wasn’t able to answer his calls or respond to his messages? There were only three reasons that could be true. She was off on some secret mission, so to speak; she was injured and her situation precluded contacting someone; or she’d been abducted and denied the opportunity.
Face it. Option three was what terrified him. Three was his Lisa.
He stowed his suitcase in his car, then he and Sophie went downstairs to show the photo of the guy in the hoodie to anyone who would stop long enough to look. At the front desk, they asked about the woman who opened their room for them, Bonnie, and was told today was her day off.
Jack wondered if he should get a last name and look her up for questioning and decided to give the information he had to Sergeant Jones at the police station. Let him do the follow-up; Jack was anxious to get to Astoria. A man who usually operated on logic, he found himself being ruled by his gut and his gut said, hit the road.
“How ’bout your maintenance guy, Hank? Is he around today?”
“He didn’t show up again. Jerry’s still covering for him.”
“What about the local guys Jerry called in? Is one of them around?”
“Brad Withers is in the basement. You can catch him there if you hurry,” the clerk told them before turning her attention to a tagged conference official who was having trouble with an overhead projector.
They found Withers in an anteroom in the basement digging through a pile of stuff in the corner. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard them in the doorway. His round bald head reflected what little light the overhead bulb produced. Jack had never seen anyone so hairless. Even his eyelashes looked translucent, like the fins of some tiny fish. He sure as heck wasn’t the guy Jack had seen upstairs the day before; that must have been the other one.
“You folks need something?” he asked. “Call the desk and tell them. I’ll get to you when I can.”
Jack flicked on his phone and showed Brad the photo of the guy in the hooded sweatshirt. “Do you recognize him?” he asked.
“Sure, I seen him,” Brad said. “Up on three, I think. Yesterday morning, late. Me and Adam were working on a heater unit up there. Adam left to drive into town to hunt down a part. I got bored and wandered out in the hall to sneak a smoke. This guy was standing by the elevator.” He turned back to the dark corner. “Turn your phone this way. The light is helping. Lower.” He made a triumphant sound. “There’s the pipe wrench, right in front of my nose.”
“Do you know the guy’s name?” Sophie asked.
Brad stuffed the wrench in a bucket with some other tools. “Nope. Ask Bonnie.”
“She’s off today,” Jack said.
“Nah, she’s up on three again covering for someone with a sick kid.”
“But the front desk—”
“Trust me,” Brad interrupted.
Jack and Sophie exchanged quick glances and took off. They found Bonnie just coming out of a room. “You lock yourself out again?” she asked as she caught sight of Sophie.
“Not this time. Would you look at a photo for us?”
Jack pulled out his phone. Bonnie peered at the screen and huffed. “That’s Gerald Duff in 308.”
“You’ve met him?” Sophie asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
“Not really but I came up here yesterday to exchange a coffeepot he claimed was broken. He wasn’t in the room so I left the new one on the desk right next to a stack of crisp dollar bills. Lot of good it did me.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“He checked out a while ago. It’s a holiday tomorrow and that means more people will check in when this group leaves, so I’ve already cleaned the room and what with the mess he left, I expected a decent tip. This is what I got instead.” She dug in her apron pocket and extracted a folded dollar bill. “What do I need a paper dog for?”
“It’s a fox,” Sophie murmured.
“I don’t care what it is,” Bonnie declared and shoved it back in her pocket. “Bottom line it’s a buck tip for a two-hundred-dollar room. Tightwad.”
As she turned to roll her cart down the hall, Jack posed another question. “One more thing. The hotel seems to have been booked solid for the weekend. That means Duff had to have made a reservation, doesn’t it?”
She shook her head. “He walked in right after we got a cancellation. I remember because I had to go up to 308 to remove a fruit basket someone had sent for the people who canceled. I bet they would have left a decent tip.”
They thanked her for her help and went back to the desk, where the clerk refused to confirm or deny their former guest’s name. Jack called the police and gave them the information, which also gave him a chance to remind Sergeant Jones to keep looking for Sabrina.
“Turns out my wife hates red roses,” the sergeant said before hanging up. Jack relayed this information to Sophie, who laughed.
Jack felt a huge wave of relief when they finally drove out of Seaport. He decided at once that the trip would be easier if the rain hadn’t started again and more interesting if Sophie was in the car with him. As it was, he’d given her the address and now followed her red compact while keeping an eye out for white sedans with murderous drivers. What he discovered was that there were a lot of white cars.
He couldn’t get over Duff leaving the origami fox for the maid. Talk about calling attention to himself! He had to be an idiot or incredibly smug...maybe both. With any luck the police would haul him in for questioning. If they didn’t and he was following Sophie right now, her driving up to Sabrina’s residence would reinforce his belief that Sophie truly was Sabrina.
Jack’s thoughts drifted to Sophie’s phone conversation with her mother, especially the comments that seemed to concern Danny. She’d said he’d quit his job in Seattle and accepted a new one in Portland. That meant he would have to take and pass a new bar exam. Would he really quit a good job in Washington before making sure he could practice law in Oregon? Something sounded kind of fishy about it.
Jack could understand how a guy in a new city would latch onto a pretty companion, especially someone as warm as Sophie. He could understand how a man would be drawn to her quirky insecurities and ask her to marry him. Unfortunately, the same quirky insecurities that made her lovable also made her vulnerable. If the guy wasn’t head over heels in love with her, then what was his angle?
Jack searched his memory for a second and then realized Sophie hadn’t said whether or not she loved Danny, and even if she didn’t, he knew people drifted into marriage for lots of reasons and only one of them was love.
And what about that phone call? She’d told her mom she had to think about something. Think about what? Danny? Was the guy still hanging around?
Regardless, on a strictly professional level, he was curious. He wanted to meet Danny, size him up. He hoped this desire stemmed solely from wholesome concern and not some irrational spark
of jealousy but had to admit he wouldn’t bet his life on it.
It was almost noon when they drove into Astoria, Oregon’s northernmost coastal town, built where the Pacific Ocean meets the Columbia River. It was a city with a long maritime history, and Jack always enjoyed coming here despite the rain and fog. Sophie seemed to know her way around and it wasn’t long before she pulled into a small subdivision in the making.
Up and down the street, still-unbought lots featured small signs with build-to-suit information while a half a dozen complete houses stood on their parcels of land surrounded by relatively new lawns and vegetation. Those residences all included rocked-in cement pillars housing mailboxes at the end of their driveways. When the subdivision was complete, it would look attractive and uniform, making up in civility what it lacked in originality. It looked like the kind of place young families started.
A smattering of vehicles parked in driveways signified people enjoying the long weekend by staying inside out of the rain. The distinct exception was the Cromwell house, whose driveway was empty. Buzz’s rusty SUV was not parked outside, which meant Sabrina was not inside armed with a plausible explanation of what she’d been up to.
He pulled in beside Sophie’s car and stared at the dark windows of the neat, well-cared-for craftsman-style house that Buzz and Sabrina had bought nine months before. Only the brightly burning front porch light challenged the gloom.
They both got out of their cars and hurried to the protection of the porch.
“I don’t think she’s here,” Sophie said, her voice reflecting his own disappointment. A tabby cat suddenly jumped onto the back of a chair and stared at them through the window. Sophie put her hand against the glass and the cat carried on as though it had been abandoned for months.