Saving Sharkey

by Felicity Nisbet

  I chuckled. “The lad is definitely a writer, not a scientist.”

  After a half hour, he understood his assignment and was well on his way to completing it.

  As I opened a box of chocolate biscuits and poured us some tea, he looked up at me. “You don’t seem like a physicist, Mac.”

  “How so?”

  “I dunno. All intellectual and—”

  “Boring?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  I laughed. “We boring physicists have other sides to us, you know.”

  “I guess, but most science teachers I’ve seen are kind of—I dunno, stuck in their science stuff. You’re just not like them.”

  I supposed the lad had something there. “It’s probably because I fell into physics through a side door, so to speak. I actually consider myself a metaphysician.”

  “Like Jenny?”

  “Aye, like Jenny. I studied physics as a side to my metaphysical studies.” I wasn’t sure which of those studies had led me to my discovery of an application for high frequency sonic energy. In all probability, both.

  “Interesting,” Josh said, biting into a chocolate biscuit and focusing in on his school work.

  It was interesting, I realized as I sat down at the table and gazed out at the Sound. It had been my fascination with the law of attraction that had drawn me into metaphysics in the first place. It was that same law that had guided my discovery.

  It was also my recent deeper understanding of the law of attraction that made me open up to the possibility that I might actually have a life with Jenny. It was when I realized that all the years I had thought my mind was focused upon her, in actuality it was focused on the lack of having her as my partner. Therefore, while believing I was in some way attracting her into my life, I was doing the opposite.

  It was soon after I had shifted that focus to actually visualizing and seeing her in my life that Charlie had told me that she had filed for a divorce. Guilt prevented me from taking credit for manifesting that outcome, but the Universe had indeed gained my respect for the mysterious ways in which it works. And my admiration for the law of attraction was well established. The thought did occur to me that somehow we needed to apply that same law to finding Sharkey.

  Chapter 20

  Jenny arrived with the sun. I wrapped her in my arms and held her. As Rocky tried to wedge his petite body between us, I told him to sit. He did. For all of five seconds. There was a compromise in there somewhere. Jenny leaned into me and I felt as if she was willing to stand there forever. Clearly she had not slept. Worry, I thought. Or perhaps it was the stirrings of her creative mind had kept her awake.

  At Charlie’s suggestion, Jenny spent some time asking Josh random questions as they popped into her mind, hoping for some insights into the people who were pursuing the young lad. Jenny wasn’t certain if she had achieved that, but I knew how her mind worked. She would leave it alone, and it would fall into place by the time we reached Portland.

  As I backed the Range Rover out of my driveway, my stomach tightened. I had a foreboding feeling that, along with applying the law of attraction, Charlie and I would need to work on refining that same skill if we had any hope of ever finding Sharkey.

  Jenny was sleeping soundly beside me. She looked beautiful, her wavy light brown hair framing her face. She was wearing it differently. I had noticed it on Anamcara. It was a wee bit shorter and something else—layers perhaps? Whatever it was, it suited her, and if possible, made her look even more beautiful. Jesus, I wanted to pull off the highway and drive to some secluded spot in the country and make love to her like some teenager with raging hormones. Or at least like a besotted love-struck adolescent. When she stirred, I thought perhaps she suddenly had acquired the ability to read minds. But her breathing relaxed and she was back in her deep sleep.

  It wasn’t until we were a wee bit north of Portland that she awoke, startled and appreciative that I had let her sleep. After gulping down some water, she was almost conscious enough to decide where we were going. Or perhaps it was because she was still in that semi-conscious state that she suddenly was able to select our destination.

  Jenny was on a mission. She would not stop until she had completed what she came here to do. I too was on a mission. Mine was to keep her safe while she was doing what she came here to do.

  It proved to be an adventurous afternoon, reminding me of one of Sharkey’s adventures. The low point of the trip was that I actually had to use the gun that Charlie had insisted I bring along. The high point was when Jenny and I were in bed at the Bed and Breakfast before our dinner overlooking the river. After dinner wasn’t so bad either.

  The following day we returned to West Seattle with good news for Josh. He was free. He no longer had to look over his shoulder at every twist and turn. He could go back to living life like a normal teenager. Both Jenny and I hoped that he would make the decision to stay with us. I knew Charlie had already set up a room for him. When I saw him hang the jazz posters for Josh, I knew that it was not by chance that the young lad had come into our lives.

  I convinced Jenny to spend the night and to wait until morning to head back to the island. It did not seem that I had to do a great deal of arm twisting. We were becoming very comfortable spending days and nights together. It was a pattern I could become very used to.

  * * *

  The next morning Charlie and I stood on the curb watching Jenny drive away. “Did you tell her I’m helping you with a case, Charlie? What exactly did you tell her?”

  “Not a word.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Oh aye, of course I’m sure. Why?

  “She asked me about it en route to Portland. I managed to steer the conversation in a different direction.” But knowing Jenny, that only made her more suspicious.

  “How much does she know?”

  “I couldn’t tell. Just that we’re working on something together.”

  “Ah, that’s not so bad then.”

  “And that we’re not involving her. How she knows is also a concern.”

  Charlie laughed. “You know Jenny well enough to know she figures these things out for herself.”

  I groaned. This was true and at times, distinctly alarming. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, once the Volvo was out of sight. Guilt and a clear schedule would allow me to dedicate the day to assisting Charlie.

  His sigh was deep and distressed. “While you were away, I interviewed every ex-girlfriend and jealous husband I could locate on the list Declan and Maureen provided us. I reviewed the notes on all of our past interviews as well as the briefs from the men tailing our possible culprits. I studied the recent footage from the surveillance cameras. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We need to access Eddie’s financial records. And I think it’s time to put some pressure on Sarai.”

  “We’ve already tried that. Short of torture, I don’t think the lass will admit to anything. Even then.”

  “She is terrified of talking,” Charlie said. “I’ve been wondering if she’s protecting someone.”

  “Besides herself?”

  “Aye. Besides herself.”

  “But who would she protect?” I asked.

  “I can think of only two people—her brother Mok, of whom she does not appear that fond.”

  “So, that leaves one person—our friend Eddie.” We were back to the illegal activity theory in which neither of us wanted to believe.

  “So, if we go in again, how will this time have different results?”

  “This time we will insist on searching Eddie’s office thoroughly. Including his computer.”

  “And if she doesn’t agree to let us?”

  “How will she stop us?” he asked.

  “Good point.”

  Fifteen minutes later we were at Sharkey’s door, key in hand in case Sarai did not open the door for us. And if she had locked the chain, Maureen had told us that the same key accessed the door into the garage on the side of the house. We knocked and
waited, knocked again, waited again. Unless she was in the shower and did not hear us, she had made the decision to not open the door to us. While Charlie waited at the front, I walked around to the side of the house. I peered into the garage where the blue BMW was sitting beside the Lincoln Navigator.

  “Car’s here,” I said. “Unless she walked somewhere, she’s inside.”

  “I checked the camera before I left the house. She didn’t leave. Looks like we take the aggressive tact.” He pushed the key into the keyhole and turned. No chain was attached so the door swung open easily.

  “Sarai!” Charlie called out as we entered the house.

  We called her name several times to no avail. Charlie went one direction, I went the other. He covered the downstairs while I covered the upstairs. The master suite was large enough to house a couple’s apartment. And being positioned over the dining room and kitchen, the view was even more astounding.

  “Malcolm!” Charlie called from down below.

  I trotted down the stairs and headed along the corridor. “What did you find?” My stomach tightened as I made my way toward his voice.

  “Sarai’s bedroom,” he said as I rounded the corner. “I think she’s gone.”

  I entered the room that was a decent size, but modest. “Why do you say that?”

  “Her clothes are gone. Unless she moved into the master suite?”

  “No, I checked all the closets upstairs. No women’s clothing at all.”

  “Not only that,” Charlie said, “But the dresser drawers were left open as if she packed in a hurry.”

  “But where the hell would she go?”

  “To wherever Eddie is?”

  That was the only logical explanation. “If she didn’t leave by car, she must have—”

  “She didn’t leave by boat. The camera would have picked up any boats.” He sighed. I recognized that sigh. Frustration. “The only area the camera wouldn’t pick up is if someone went through the garage door on the far side of the house. And the only reason someone would bother to do that is if—”

  “They knew about the cameras. Did Sarai?”

  “As far as I know, she did not know about the one in the front. I installed the one in the back when she was out at the market. I was leaving just as she arrived home.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I was looking for any information I could find on who took the boat. She seemed to believe me. But—”

  “But clearly she, or someone who forced her to leave, knew about the camera in the front.”

  “Damn it!”

  I too felt his frustration. It seemed that we were being thwarted at every turn. “It’s possible they didn’t know about the camera. And they were just being careful to get her out without anyone seeing her.”

  “Or if she left of her own free will, she was being careful. She knows I live across the street. The only way I wouldn’t see her leaving is if she left through the side door.” Charlie turned and looked out the window at the water. Usually he didn’t hit as many roadblocks as he was running into on this case. But then, it was an entirely different kind of case. First of all, he had not been hired by anyone. Nor were we certain a crime had been committed and if it had been, what exactly was it? “What the hell is going on here, Malcolm? We can’t catch any breaks.”

  “It didn’t help that the people we were trying to protect weren’t cooperating with us.”

  “No, that didn’t help at all.”

  I wandered around the room, looking at every detail of furniture and for some sign of Sarai’s having lived here. The bed was neatly made, the sweet scent of lilac lingering. She had been here recently. She had slept here recently. It surprised me that she hadn’t been sleeping in the master suite. But then, this room’s modesty was probably more comfortable for her.

  “Check the bathroom,” I told Charlie. He found a bottle of shampoo but there was no guarantee it was hers. When I sat down on the bed, I noticed two items on the nightstand that told us that she had indeed been using her room recently. A small stone Buddha sat beside a family photograph. Two adults, three young women, the one in the middle being Sarai when she was most likely in her early twenties, and two younger boys.

  “Her family?” I asked as Charlie joined me.

  “I would assume. One of the boys must be Mok.”

  “Aye, I would assume that as well,” I said as I studied the smiling family. “Do you think it’s time to bring in the police?”

  “It’s definitely time to consider it. Let’s take a look in his office.”

  We returned to the main entry and headed for Sharkey’s office. Everything seemed to be in place. Nothing different from a few days ago when we had lifted his index card files.

  After checking the back of the house and noting that the small ski boat was still there, Charlie went back inside and I searched the side of the house.

  “Anything?” Charlie asked when I came back inside.

  “Hold on.” I went into the kitchen to check the refrigerator, dishwasher and the garbage under the sink. “There’s something else. She didn’t leave voluntarily.”

  Charlie left the files he was wading through and came into the kitchen. “What makes you say that? She took her clothes.”

  “Not necessarily of her own volition.”

  “True. So what did you find?”

  “There’s garbage under the sink.”

  “And she would not have left any if she planned to leave for any length of time.”

  “I don’t think so. The garbage can outside is half full so she’s emptied it recently and the kitchen trash smells of curry. Also, the refrigerator has fresh groceries. She would not have stocked up on food if she was planning to leave.”

  “I think you may be correct in your assumption then. Unless she changed her ways dramatically and didn’t care about leaving food to rot inside the house.”

  “I think she genuinely loves Eddie,” I said. “I don’t believe she would be involved in any plan to hurt him. And she would take care of his home.”

  Charlie turned and headed back to the office. “I agree.”

  We made our way through the office drawers and files. While Charlie was tackling paper, I sat down at the computer and opened several files. Most were work related, others were rugby and soccer related. Much to our relief, neither of us found any evidence of illegal activity. However, we were both aware that Edward Sharkey was intelligent enough not to leave any.

  “How do we access his banking and his file of assets, if he has one?” I asked.

  “We bring in a computer pro. I’ve tried calling a couple but haven’t had any luck. We may just have to take the hard drive with us.”

  “Josh,” I said. “Is he at your place?”

  “Aye. He’s doing his school work. Why are you asking about Josh?”

  “He’s a whiz on the computer. Jenny said he’s taught her a lot. Seems to be a natural.”

  “Seems to be a natural at a lot of things. I’ll give him a call.”

  By the time Josh arrived at Sharkey’s we were knee deep in paperwork. While impressed with Sharkey’s organizational skills, we had made no headway in our investigation.

  “So you need me after all,” Josh teased.

  “Aye, we do, laddie. Malcolm tells me you’re a genius on the computer.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I’m ok. I did a pretty good job finding out some stuff for Jenny. What do you need?”

  We sat him down at the computer and pointed him in the direction. “Whose house is this anyway? Am I breaking the law?”

  “Och, no. We’re at a friend’s. His daughter gave us the key.”

  Josh nodded and started running searches, the likes of which I had never seen. I just wondered where he had learned these skills. Something told me it hadn’t been in a classroom.

  “Nothing on his assets,” Josh said, “but here are his bank statements. It looks like he has several accounts.”

  It took him another hour, an
d our keen detective work of hunting down possible codes Sharkey might have used, including more than one phone call to Maureen, to gain access to the accounts. We sat down and studied the numbers. Other than automatic withdrawals for bills, there had been no movement of money in over a month.

  “Is that good?” Josh said on the tail of Charlie’s sigh. “I thought if money’s moved, you can trace it and see where it’s being spent and stuff.”

  “That’s true, but in this case, I think it’s a good sign.”

  “It means, if someone kidnapped Eddie and hopes to access his money, he’s still alive,” I said. “They wouldn’t kill him if they hadn’t yet gotten their hands on some of this money.”

  “That’s your friend? Your missing person? Eddie?” Josh asked.

  “It is,” Charlie said.

  “And you think he’s been kidnapped? But what if it’s not to get money?”

  “If someone wanted him dead and was out for revenge, most likely they would know about the man’s money. Even if it wasn’t their top priority, they could not resist taking as much of it as they could.” At least we hoped that was the case.

  Josh nodded. “So this helps?”

  “Aye, it helps, laddie. Now we just need to see what assets he has and get into his credit card statements.”

  As the two of them were talking, I made my way into the entryway where there was a beautiful mahogany chest. I opened the two top drawers and found a stack of mail. It had been piling up for days apparently. I went through it, first checking for anything that might be a letter of threat, then pulling all credit card bills and, opening them first, handed them to Charlie.

  “How did you know where to look?” he asked.

  “I just figured if the mail hadn’t made it to Sharkey’s desk, it was in the spot closest to the front door.”

  “I told you, you’re a better detective than you want to believe you are.”