“I…I don’t know, Peggy, but hold on. I’m going to check.” She continued talking to Mrs. Briggs while she tiptoed into Isabella’s room, hoping to find them curled up together. But there was no sign of Ty. Isabella was sleeping soundly on her back, with one arm thrown over her head. Occasionally, a slight snore emitted from her mouth.
Luci left Isabella’s room and quietly closed the door behind her. “Peggy, I’m so sorry, but he’s not with Isabella. Hold on, let me look around the house. He might’ve come back here after I went to sleep…” Luci looked around the living room, the sun porch, and the kitchen for signs Ty had been there. Nothing. She grabbed her robe and went out into the garage. “His bike isn’t in the garage,” she told Peggy, who was getting more upset by the minute. “Hold on a minute…I think I see it…” That was strange. Ty’s bike was next door at the Bakers’. Luci recognized it immediately because of the little New York “license tag”—a souvenir Isabella had brought him—that hung from the back of the seat. “Um, Peggy,” Luci put on her most professional, calming voice, “I don’t want to alarm you, but maybe you should call the police. Ty’s bike is here. Well, not here, but at the neighbors’. Don’t worry. He’s probably fine. But you’re right—he’s not the kind of kid to just disappear, so…please. You call them, and I’m going to go wake Isabella. Please call me as soon as you’ve talked to the police. Maybe Isabella can add something to the report…”
Luci clicked off the phone and hurried back inside. “Isabella?” she called as she entered the kitchen, “Isabella?” She hurried down the hall and opened the bedroom door where Isabella lay sleeping as peacefully as she had been when Luci had checked on her. “Isabella?” Luci gently shook her daughter’s shoulder. “Isabella?” No response. “Isabella!” She was louder now and shook Isabella with a little more force. “Isabella! Ty is missing. Do you hear me? Missing! Do you know where he might be?”
“What?” Isabella groggily asked. “Who’s missing?”
“Isabella, wake up!” her mother demanded. “Ty is missing.”
Isabella bolted upright in bed. “He’s what? Ty is missing? What do you mean? He’s missing? Missing? Oh, my head hurts…”
Luci tried to be patient. “Mrs. Briggs called. Ty didn’t go home last night. Or if he did, he left again. His bike is next door, Isabella. On the Bakers’ lawn. Do you know where he is?”
Isabella felt herself struggling to take a breath. “Oh, my God. He’s got him. He’s got Ty. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my…”
Luci grabbed Isabella by the shoulders. “Who’s got Ty? What are you talking about? Isabella? What is going on?”
“Rick. He must’ve taken Ty,” Isabella mumbled, still drowsy with the effects of the pain medication.
“Rick! Isabella, what does Rick have to do with this? This is no time for you to start with that crap again. We’re trying to find your friend, Isabella. We don’t have time for games.”
“No games, Mom. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Rick is up to something. He has been.” She paused and thought for a minute. “Yeah, last night…he gave me two pain pills, Mom. He said one was the ibuprofen, but isn’t that one flatter than the pain medicine? He gave me two.” She started speaking faster. “Two pills. He wanted me out of the way. That’s got to be it. I told you that he’s no good, but you wouldn’t listen to me…Ty must’ve come back last night.” She rubbed her temples. “Oh, my God. It’s my fault. Ty came back because I gave him a clue. Oh, no…it’s my fault…” She began to cry.
“Isabella? What the hell are you talking about?” Just then, the doorbell rang. Luci looked out the bedroom window and saw a police cruiser in front of the house. “That’s the police, Isabella. They’re going to want to talk to you, so get up and splash some cold water on your face. And don’t you dare mention Rick to the police. This has nothing to do with him, and it is not the time for your little smear campaign. We’ve got to find Ty, and once we do, you and I will talk about Rick.”
Isabella told the police all that she knew—that Ty had gone home around ten, after she had taken her pain medicine and had gone to bed. The office took down notes, but Isabella was pretty sure that the only reason he was there was because Ty’s mother worked with the cop’s wife. “Look,” Isabella tried to impress the seriousness of the situation upon the officer, “Ty doesn’t do stuff like this. He would never go anywhere without telling me. I just know that something bad has happened to him!”
“Young guys go off all the time, Isabella,” the officer said in a patronizing voice, “maybe your boyfriend’s got a little um… interest on the side?”
“No!” Isabella practically screamed. “Are you stupid or something? First of all, he’s not my boyfriend—he’s my…my…my best friend. Second, he would not just leave. He came back because he knew I was in trouble and needed him.” Isabella immediately regretted the words because of the warning look Luci cast from across the living room.
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”
Isabella hesitated and bit her bottom lip. “Um, my mother’s boyfriend was here, and I didn’t want to be left alone with him. I don’t like the guy,” she added hoping that the explanation would be enough to satisfy both the police officer and her mother.
The cop scowled. “So you mean to tell me that your boy—your friend went home and came back because you don’t like your mother’s boyfriend? And then what? Your mother’s friend killed your friend?”
“Killed?” Isabella was horrified. “Oh, my God, I was thinking ‘kidnapped’, not killed.”
“Kidnapped?” the cop asked.
“Neither,” Luci interjected. “Officer Mooney, could I see you in the kitchen please?” ”Mom…” Isabella started.
“Enough, Isabella,” Luci glared at her again. “Enough.”
In the kitchen, but still within the range of Isabella’s cat hearing, Luci said, “Officer, you have to excuse my daughter. She…her father died five years ago. He was her idol. I recently started dating—the first time in five years—and she’s…um…she’s having a very hard time of it. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but…”
“Say no more,” Officer Mooney told her. “I understand completely. Fern was married before, and I had a helluva time with her kids when we first started going out.”
“That’s not it,” Isabella called from the living room. “Why won’t you guys listen to me?” The officer continued as if he hadn’t heard Isabella. “I told my wife I’d look into this because she works with the boy’s mother, but I really don’t think we have a situation here. But we’ll keep a look out just in case. Here’s my card—call me if there’s any additional information…” And with that, he put on his hat and left the house.
“I am very disappointed in you, Isabella,” Luci told her. “I asked you not to bring Rick into the conversation, and what did you do?”
“Mom, I’m telling you—there’s something going on. More than you know. Please, Mom. If you don’t believe me, call him. Call Rick and tell him Ty’s missing and see how he reacts.”
“Isabella…”
“C’mon, Mom. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize. But I don’t think I am. Call him. Use your instincts, Mom, and call him.”
Luci grabbed her cell phone and pressed Rick’s name on her contacts list. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then it went to voicemail. “Um, hi, honey,” she started, not ignoring Isabella’s grimace at her word choice, “it’s me. Um, Isabella’s friend Ty went missing some time last night or this morning. She’s really upset, and I need to talk to you. Gimme a call when you get this, okay?” She closed the phone, looking concerned.
Finally, Isabella thought. “Voicemail, huh, Mom? Isn’t that strange? Has he ever let your call go to voicemail before?”
“He didn’t let my call go to voicemail, Isabella. He’s probably busy—in the shower or something…” she finished lamely.
“Or something,” Isabella repeated sarcastically.
Luci looked worried, and while she d
idn’t want to create pain for her mother, Isabella was glad. Maybe you’ll realize what I ’ve been trying to tell you. “Mom, where…where could he have taken Ty?”
“Isabella, dammit!” Luci had never sworn at Isabella, never. “I told you—Rick is not involved in Ty’s disappearance. It…it might’ve been the man you and Pete saw in the backyard Saturday night. I know you’re worried about Ty,” Luci’s tone softened, “but you really need to stop blaming Rick.” She turned her back to Isabella so that her daughter didn’t know she was redialing Rick. The call again went to voicemail.
Pete, Isabella thought. That was brilliant! “Mom, I’m going back to lay down. I am still so groggy! Call me if you hear anything okay?” She sneaked the cordless phone up the sleeve of her pajama top. “Don’t forget. You hear anything at all, you wake me up, okay?”
“Sure,” Luci said, looking at Isabella curiously. She wondered what was going on with Isabella, but she had two more important questions that needed answers. First, where was Tyson Briggs? And second, where was Rick Tomasetti—and why wasn’t he answering her calls?
Thirty: Another Trip to the Hospital
TY STRUGGLED AGAINST material that was binding his arms, wrists and ankles. The wrist binding seemed to be loosening—a little. If I can just get my hands free, he thought. He wriggled and wiggled, and again, it seemed that the binding was looser—but not loose enough. Ty went still—he heard voices. He tried to quiet his breathing so he could hear better, but it wasn’t enough to make out the voices or what they were saying. He could just tell that there were two people—men—speaking. The first speaker’s voice was rough; the second speaker had a softer, quieter tone. If he was right, if he was on Rick’s boat, one of the voices possibly could be Rick’s. But he couldn’t tell for sure. Sweat trickled down his face. All his movement had left him perspiring in the tiny dark space. The sweat burned his eyes, so he closed them tightly. Isabella! He had been so busy trying to free himself that he hadn’t thought of her. Was she all right? Was she safe? Why had she mentioned Sam and Dean? More perspiration ran down his face, and it was having an effect on the tape-like material on his mouth. Ty could feel the corner of the tape lifting as it became wet with his sweat. He worked his lips and face, puckering and moving his jaw from side to side. The tape continued to lift, so Ty continued making faces. If Isabella could see me now, he thought to himself, I’d never hear the end of this one…The movements just made Ty hotter, which in turn made him sweat more, which in turn loosened the tape even further. Just…one…more…and that was it—Tyson’s mouth was free! Now…if he could just reach his wrists, maybe he could bite his way free…
ISABELLA QUICKLY DRESSED and slipped out the sun porch door before her mother could realize that she wasn’t sleeping. She cut through the neighbors’ backyard and found herself waiting at the corner of King Street for the familiar white car to pull up.
Pete’s Jaguar roared around the corner. He reached across and opened the door for Isabella. “Okay, okay, what was so urgent? Are you in more pain?”
Isabella shook her head. “Not medical. I just don’t know who else to talk to. Can we go someplace and talk?”
Pete nodded and said, “Yeah, well, why don’t you fill me in on the way?” And Isabella proceeded to do so while Pete tried to focus on the road.
“What a minute. He what? He gave you two pain pills? You’re sure?” Pete nearly went into a ditch.
“Yeah, let’s stop here, so I can finish telling you everything. You’re the only person I knew would listen to what I think is going on!”
And Isabella told Pete Myers everything—from the double-dosing of pain medication to the “coincidence” of septic troubles on Craven Street. When she was done, she sat quietly in anticipation of his telling her she was overreacting.
But instead, he took out his BlackBerry and dialed someone on his contacts list. “Yes, Captain Michael Myers, please. Tell him it’s his brother.” To Isabella, Pete said, “My brother works for the SBI.” Seeing her questioning look, he explained, “State Bureau of Investigation—kinda like the state level of the FBI.” Into the phone, he said, “Hey, Mike. I need your expertise. I’m with the daughter of one of the nurses at work. Yeah. Yes, Luci. Sheesh. Anyway, back to the subject at hand? Isabella—yes, the daughter—has a friend who’s gone missing. He’s a good kid, Mike—not normal behavior from him. His bike was found,” he looked at Isabella for confirmation, “at Luci’s neighbors’ house. She called the locals, but they’ve not been any help. Look, Isabella suspects her mother’s friend. Yeah, boyfriend. Look, Mike, we can talk about that later, right? Anyway, check this guy out for me, would you? His name is Rick. I don’t know if it’s Richard. The last name is…”
“Tomasetti,” Isabella supplied. “T-O-M-A-S-E-T-T-I.” Isabella was impressed. When she called Pete, she thought that he would be able to talk some sense into Luci. She had no idea that he had a brother who could really help!
Pete spelled the last name for his brother. “You want to call me back? No? Okay, I’ll hold.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at Isabella. “He’s checking now.” He put the phone back to his ear. “What? What does that mean? Well, check again. How can there be no record of this guy at all? Oh, there is a record but the guy died in 1981? Well, he can’t be the right one, can he? C’mon, Mike. Help me out here. A kid is missing! The guy is a concert promoter. What about that?”
Isabella bit her bottom lip. What did it mean that there was no record for Rick? She reached beneath her t-shirt and withdrew the necklace. Maybe it was time for cat Isabella to get involved? But what could she do? And anyway, you promised Ty you wouldn’t transform intentionally, she reminded herself. But that was before he disappeared, she argued back.
Pete was still talking to his brother. “Well, okay, let me talk to Isabella, and I’ll call you back.” He clicked off the phone and turned to Isabella. “Okay, now. Don’t panic. Isabella, it seems…um…that Rick Tomasetti isn’t who he says he is.”
“I knew it!” Isabella felt vindicated. “I told my mother that…”
“Now isn’t the time for gloating. Isabella, if he’s not who he says he is, then he’s someone else. Do you know what I’m saying?”
The reality dawned on Isabella. Ty was in danger! Real danger! “What are we doing to do about it?”
“Well,” Pete said gently, “I think it’s time we go talk to your mom.”
“No!” Isabella exclaimed. “No freakin’ way! Dr. Pete, she didn’t believe me. I’ve tried and tried to warn her that something was up with that guy, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Isabella,” he insisted, “we need to tell her. So she can help us find Ty. She knows more about this guy than you and I do. We have to tell her. We have to.”
“Yeah, okay,” Isabella agreed reluctantly. “But you are doing all the talking.”
When Pete pulled into the LaFelinis’ driveway, Luci was standing there with her hands on her hips, looking annoyed.
“Where have you been?” she demanded of Isabella. “And what are you doing with Pete?”
Isabella looked at her mother and back at Pete. “You promised,” she muttered.
“Luci, let’s go inside. We need to talk about Rick Tomasetti,” Pete told her.
“Oh, my God, you’ve been brainwashed by Isabella!” Luci was incensed. “I thought better of you, Pete; how…how could you?”
“There’s something you don’t know. Luci, sit down,” Pete demanded. “You know we’ve talked—you and I—about my brother, Mike?”
“Yeah, and?” She remained standing.
“I called him at the SBI. He used his computer to look up Rick Tomasetti.”
“He did what? Isabella, do you see what you’ve done? I cannot believe that you…”
“Luci, Luci, LUCI!” Pete had to yell to get her to listen. “She was right. The man you know as Rick Tomasetti is someone else. There’s only one Rick Tomasetti in the SBI database—and he died in 1981.”
Pete took a deep breath. “It means that this guy might be behind Ty’s disappearance, Luce.” Seeing her horrified look, he continued more gently, “Luci, we have to find this guy. You know more about him than we do. What can you tell us?”
Luci had tears running down her cheeks, and each tear burned a hole in Isabella’s heart. The pain her mother was in reminded her of when Bobby had died…she had seen her mother cry plenty of times since the funeral, of course, but not with as much pain as then and now. Luci swallowed hard. “Wh-what can I tell you?”
“How about a cell phone number?” Pete had pulled a small pad from his pocket and sat poised to write.
“He…he’s not answering his phone,” Luci told him quietly.
“Mom, you called him just once,” Isabella prompted. “Maybe you can call again?”
“I…I’ve tried,” Luci hesitantly admitted, “about eight times this morning. He doesn’t pick up.”
“I see. Well, give me the number. I’ll have Mike trace it. What else can you tell me?” Luci shook her head. “I dunno. I—he’s a concert promoter.”
“Yeah, he apparently lied about that, too. What else?”
Luci shook her head. How—how could I be so stupid? “I…I don’t know.” She shook her head. “He lives in Greenville, drives a red Porsche and a navy blue Expedition. Works out in the gym over there. He…” she thought, “…he rented a boat. A yacht, actually. Do you think that might help?”
Pete had already dialed his phone. “Yeah, it’s me. I have some more information.” He gave Mike the cell phone number and the information about the cars.
“Tell him about the yacht,” Isabella reminded him.
“Oh, yeah, he rented a yacht last Friday. The name? Of the rental agency? How would they know that? Oh. Of the yacht. Hold on.” He turned to Luci, “Do you remember the name of the yacht, Luce?”
The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini Page 17