Cindy fussed around the kitchen, checking the time before putting a tray of her famous cheesy artichoke garlic bread in the oven. The kids loved that. She mixed chopped artichokes with garlic, butter, sour cream and two different kinds of cheeses, then slathered it on both halves of a loaf of Italian bread and baked it until bubbly. She also made a tossed garden salad to go with Emma’s favorite meal, chicken, broccoli and ziti with Alfredo sauce. It wasn’t a low cal meal, but now and then Cindy liked to indulge, especially if she was cooking for others.
Her oldest child, Matt, was the first to arrive with his girlfriend, Dana. Matt recently turned thirty-three, and Dana was the same age. She was an elementary school teacher, and Cindy really liked her for Matt. They balanced each other out. Dana was calm and relaxing while Matt was high energy and outgoing. They weren’t engaged yet, but Cindy had a feeling it might be coming soon, and she approved.
Matt gave his mother a big hug and kiss on the cheek, and Dana did the same. He put a six-pack of beer in the refrigerator and handed Cindy a chilled bottle of wine. “This is the one you like, right? Butter?”
Cindy smiled. “This is great, thanks honey.” Bread and Butter was actually her favorite, but Butter was good too.
Cindy opened the wine and poured a glass for herself and Dana while Matt grabbed one of the beers that he’d brought. A moment later, she heard a car pull in the driveway. Emma walked through the door with a bottle of wine as well, Bread and Butter, which Cindy thanked her for and put in the refrigerator to keep cool. Emma helped herself to a glass of wine and they went on Cindy’s back deck to relax before dinner.
Emma caught them up on her final days in California and told them about the cottage.
“You all have to come over soon to see it. It’s small, but it’s going to be great this summer. I’ll have a third of July party on the deck—it’s the same size as the house!”
“That will be fun, honey. I haven’t been over to White Horse Beach on the third in years.” Unlike the rest of the country, White Horse Beach held its Fourth of July celebration on the third. It was a tradition that started many years ago and it was like a giant neighborhood block party.
Taylor Avenue, the main road that along the beach, shut down, and the police patrolled the area to make sure no one got out of hand. Oddly enough, although fireworks were illegal in Massachusetts, there was an understanding of some sort and the police allowed it to happen on the third. Along with bonfires up and down the beach. The fireworks were often more spectacular than the official town fireworks the following day.
They headed back inside for dinner and for the next two hours, Cindy was pretty much in heaven. It was such a treat to have both of her children under the same roof. She felt bad for Emma that her dream of being an actress hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped. But Cindy was glad that her daughter was back in Plymouth and she hoped that she’d be happy working at the agency.
Fred had always thought that Emma had a talent for it. She had always done well in school, especially in math. She loved to solve puzzles and was always curious about how things worked. Cindy was more than happy to hand over the computer work to Emma and she’d focus on the office management duties, accounting and that kind of thing.
“So, what time do you want me at the office tomorrow?” Emma asked over coffee. She’d refused dessert, which didn’t surprise Cindy. Matt and Dana happily said yes to cheesecake though, and Cindy indulged in a small slice as well. She got up and opened a desk drawer in the kitchen and returned with a set of keys for Emma.
“I usually go in around nine, but here’s your keys for the front and back doors. Mickey usually comes in around ten.”
“Okay, I’ll probably shoot for eight thirty or so, to get settled and have another cup of coffee. Do we have much going on right now?”
“Mickey has a surveillance job in Kingston tomorrow. That’s really it. We were crazy busy the past two weeks but closed out a few cases and it’s slowing down some.”
Emma laughed. “Figures, now that I’m here. Maybe I’ll go along with Mickey and keep him company. I’ve never gone on surveillance. Dad would never let me.”
“I suppose that would be okay.” Cindy felt a bit unsure, but realized it was ridiculous. If they were sending a man out who was almost eighty, then of course it was safe for her thirty-year-old daughter to go.
“Mom, I’m going to have to learn how to do it. We can’t rely on Mickey totally for that kind of stuff.”
Cindy nodded. “I know. I know. I’m still getting used to being back in that world again.”
“If you ever get stuck or want someone to go with you… I’m happy to help,” Matt offered.
“I don’t want to take you away from your work, honey,” Cindy said.
“Thanks, Matt. Hopefully we won’t need to take you up on that, but I appreciate the offer,” Emma said.
“Between Emma and Mickey, we should be able to handle things. We don’t generally get very exciting cases,” Cindy said.
“What are most of your cases like?” Dana asked.
“The bread and butter cases are often surveillance for people who suspect their spouse is being unfaithful. Sometimes it’s finding someone that has disappeared owing money and we track them down. Occasionally we work with law firms or insurance companies—particularly workman’s comp claims and we find evidence that they are not injured as they claim.”
“Those are the most interesting,” Emma said.
“Speaking of interesting. Did you hear that local woman is still missing?” Matt said.
“What woman?” Emma asked.
“Nancy Eldridge. She was a new partner at the biggest law firm in Plymouth and young too, in her late thirties. She went out to dinner with friends a few weeks ago, went home and no one has seen her since,” Cindy said.
“That’s so sad,” Dana said.
“They haven’t turned up anything useful yet,” Cindy said. “I just read about it this morning. Scary thing is, it looks like she made it home and someone was waiting for her in her garage. There was pepper spray residue on the garage door.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Emma said.
“No, it’s awful. Fortunately, we don’t get cases like that.” She glanced at Emma. “Tomorrow will be a good day for you to go out with Mickey. It’s a pretty straightforward case. The wife suspects that her husband is seeing someone else, either on his lunch hour or right after work. She doesn’t believe he’s just working late so often.”
Emma smiled. “We’ll find out.”
Chapter 3
After eating all that pasta and garlic bread, Emma was home and in bed by a little before nine. All the traveling had caught up with her and even with the three-hour time difference, she still fell fast asleep and woke up the next morning at seven sharp feeling refreshed and ready to start the day. She made herself a cup of black coffee from the tiny, single-serving Keurig machine in the compact kitchen, and took it outside, grabbing a sweatshirt along the way.
The air was cool, and the sweatshirt was necessary, but the hot coffee kept her warm and the sun was already shining over the ocean. The skies were clear and blue with swirling cotton candy clouds. It was going to be a beautiful day. Emma was excited for her first day on the job and to go on surveillance with Mickey. He’d been working with her father for as long as she could remember, and she’d always adored him. Everyone did. He pretended to be gruff, but it was all an act. He was as soft as a marshmallow, and he was still razor sharp.
Her father often said Mickey had an eye for details, noticing the smallest things that her father didn’t always catch. And Mickey had the patience for surveillance work. Emma knew from what her father had told her, that the majority of the time it could be pretty boring—lots of sitting and waiting for something to happen.
She sipped her coffee and watched the waves crashing on the beach. Even this early, there were people out walking, some with dogs racing ahead of them and darting into the water. Maybe later, at t
he end of the day, she’d take a walk along the beach herself. Or another morning, she could go before work. She normally was up a bit earlier, around six.
After a second cup of coffee and a browse of the local news on her phone, Emma jumped in the shower and got ready for her first day. She stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts on her way to the office and grabbed a few everything bagels with cream cheese and a box of munchkins—the delicious donut holes—in case Mickey wanted a snack while they were waiting.
She arrived at the office at a quarter past eight and was the first one there. Her father had owned the office condo that was in an old brick building at the beginning of Main Street in downtown Plymouth. Technically, that end of Main Street was called Court Street, but everyone referred to it as Main Street. Plymouth was funny like that.
Their office was on the first floor and there was a short flight of stairs to the front door. There was a small kitchen area, and Emma made herself another cup of coffee before sitting down at a desk that sat in front of a bay window that overlooked Main Street. The office had high ceilings and two fireplaces that looked nice, but as the building was over a hundred years old, they were strongly encouraged not to use them.
Even this early, there were people walking along Main Street. Plymouth was a historic tourist town, settled in 1620 and known for the Pilgrims, the Mayflower, and Plymouth Rock. Emma always warned people when they visited, and she took them to see the rock for the first time. Everyone always imagined it would be bigger. The Mayflower was less of a disappointment. It was an exact replica and sat proudly in Plymouth Harbor, open to all to visit and tour.
The office looked exactly as she remembered from the last time she’d visited her father. They’d had lunch plans, and she’d stopped in and said hello to Mickey before she and her father walked down to the waterfront for a leisurely lunch at East Bay Grille. Although they had an extensive menu, Emma almost always got the same thing—a lobster roll. Theirs was the best in Plymouth. It made her sad thinking of it now.
Even after the divorce, she and her father had been close, though she only saw him a few times a year, when she’d come home for the holidays. They’d talked often though, at least once a week, and Emma missed those weekly calls. More than once, when something good or bad had happened, she’d reached for the phone to call her dad and then remembered she couldn’t do that anymore. She felt her eyes grow misty and took a deep breath. The sadness took her by surprise at times.
She’d talked to her mother about it and she’d assured her that it was normal and that the first year after someone passed was always the hardest, especially around any milestone dates, birthdays, holidays or anytime a memory was triggered.
Emma wondered if it was strange for her mother to be working back at the agency again. She was glad that she was, though. Emma’s gift was not organization. She still struggled with paying bills on time, even when she had the money.
Emma turned on the computer and opened Outlook and the office calendar. She saw the schedule for the week; surveillance today on the Campbell case. Then Wednesday and Thursday it looked like they were booked for a workman’s comp case.
There was a phone message and an email from a Belinda Russell asking that they please call her as soon as possible. Emma called and got voice mail. She left a message for Belinda to call back and left the main number, so her mother could take the call while they were out.
She took the last bite of her bagel as the front door opened and her mother walked in holding a paper cup of coffee from Kiskadee, a coffee shop on Main Street.
“Did you eat yet?” Emma asked. “I brought bagels and munchkins.”
“I did, honey. That’s nice of you, though. I’m sure Mickey will want some.”
Once her mother got settled, she walked Emma through their current caseload, which at the moment, was just the two that were on the calendar already.
“Sydney Campbell’s is the suspected infidelity case. She said her husband, Sean, has been distant lately and has been coming home from work later and later. He’s also lost some weight and has started dressing better. All the usual red flags.”
“What does he do for work?”
“It’s a family-owned business in the industrial park. They make paper products, pizza boxes, takeout containers. Her husband started it with his two brothers years ago, and it sounds like it’s doing very well. She said they doubled their revenue last year. That’s another thing—she said they used to go on fancy vacations, but this year it’s been work trips instead and he’s gone by himself to multiple conferences.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Emma said.
“No, and he just bought an expensive new car, too. A flashy red Lamborghini.”
“Maybe he’s having a mid-life crisis?” Emma wondered.
Her mother laughed. “That’s what I said too, and Sydney agrees. She said this all started when her husband turned fifty a year ago. But her gut is telling her he’s having an affair. And if it’s true, she’s immediately going for a divorce.”
“I hope it’s not true. Maybe they can save their marriage if it’s just a mid-life crisis.”
“Your father once said that eighty-five percent of the people that think their spouse is having an affair, are correct. So, the odds don’t look good. But, that would be nice.”
“So, where does she want us to start?”
“She said he’s often hard to reach at lunchtime and right after work. He always tells her he was just busy working, but she wants us to find out for sure. So, you two will go to his company and wait to see if he goes anywhere during the day, most likely at lunchtime, and then see where he goes at the end of the day—if it’s straight home, or elsewhere.”
“Will do. Oh, a Belinda Russell called and emailed. I left her a message, so she may be calling you. She didn’t say much in her message or email, so I’m not sure what she needs help with.”
“I’ll find out, if she calls in. And if you need anything, call me. I’ll be here.”
Until Mickey arrived, her mother walked her through the cases they’d handled in recent weeks. There was quite a variety, from similar ones dealing with infidelity, to personal injury or workman’s comp cases for insurance companies to finding people that skipped out on rent.
At ten, Mickey arrived, looking like someone’s favorite grandfather with a thick head of snowy white hair, twinkling blue eyes and a rosy nose and cheeks. He wore a Red Sox baseball hat and a Mr. Rogers style gray cardigan over a crisp white button-down shirt, and tan pants.
After they exchanged hellos, Mickey grabbed a set of binoculars off his desk.
“Are you ready to go, Emma?”
She jumped up and pulled on her windbreaker and slung her purse over her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
When they walked outside and into the parking lot, Emma saw her mother’s navy Audi sedan, her father’s silver Honda, which Emma was now using, and an adorable baby blue convertible.
“Is that your car, Mickey? What is it?”
“A Chrysler Crossfire. Has a Mercedes engine, you know. That thing can fly.” He smiled. “I get a lot of attention in that car. You should probably drive.”
Emma laughed. “Yes, we’ll take my car.”
He nodded. “Your mother used to let me take hers. Sometimes I drive our other car, a silver Toyota Corolla. But it’s so nice out today that I had to take the convertible.”
They climbed into Emma’s Honda and she handed Mickey the Dunkin’ Donuts bag. “There’s a bagel and cream cheese in there or donuts, if you’d rather.”
“Well, aren’t you thoughtful?” He opened the bag and took a peek inside. “Oh, munchkins are my favorite. They’re so small it’s like I’m not being bad at all.”
Emma laughed as she plugged the address into her GPS. She knew the area they were going to. Thirty-seven Resnik Road was just off Industrial Park Road near the Registry of Motor Vehicles.
It took them a little over ten minutes to get to the office park and to Plymouth
Paper Company. She knew from the quick research she’d done in the office, that the company employed about fifty people and there were about that many cars in the parking lot. They found a spot with a view of the front door and turned off the engine.
“And now we wait,” Mickey said. He popped another munchkin in his mouth while Emma searched the internet on her phone to see what else she could find on Sean Campbell. She found his Facebook page and it had a good recent picture of him.
Sydney had emailed one to her mother as well, but it wasn’t as good as this one. The Facebook one was dated a week ago, and he was all dressed up for a night out, in a black suit and red power tie. His black hair was tinged with gray around the edges and slicked back with gel. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy for his age. Emma had never been one to go for older men, but she knew women her age in L.A. that would find Sean, his flashiness and his money, quite attractive.
“What was it like, being a detective? Do you miss it?” Emma asked Mickey.
He smiled. “I liked it, most of the time. And sometimes, I miss it. But, not usually. I don’t miss the politics of it, that’s for sure.”
“How long have you worked for my dad?”
“Let’s see. I turn eighty in two months and that will be twenty years. That’s something, isn’t it?”
“That’s impressive. Do you think you’ll want to keep working?” Emma hoped so, but couldn’t blame Mickey if he was ready to call it quits.
He laughed. “As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay with it. What else would I do? I like to keep busy and as my wife says, it keeps me out of trouble.”
Plymouth Undercover Page 2