Missing

by Adiva Geffen

  As if I hadn’t guessed. As if that glint in Sammy’s eyes hadn’t announced him more loudly than a hundred trumpets.

  “Good morning, Dikla.” To his credit, he looked painfully embarrassed.

  “Good morning,” I answered calmly. “By the way, Sammy, I forgot to tell you, I have a jaw-replacement operation two hours from now. But honestly, I wish the two of you the best of luck. I hope everything goes well,” I said and started backing toward the door.

  “Shoshkowitz, this is not necessary. It’s childish and inappropriate, especially since I’m on my way to the hospital.”

  “Childish my ass. I can do this on my own, Sammy. Besides, I’m just going to hand over all the information to the police and that’s it.”

  “No, you’re not. You and Cooper are a team till further notice.” Sammy was enjoying every second of her little moment. “Settle down and listen to what he has to tell you. He started working on the case last night.”

  “I managed to locate the address of the ambulance company that picked up Galia,” Cooper said matter-of-factly, but not without pride.

  “Excellent,” I answered quickly, but nonchalantly, as if I weren’t surprised. “Give me the name, please.”

  “We need to go there together and speak with the people in charge.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “Let’s just say I spent a few good hours searching.”

  “I’m telling you, Dikla, this man is a real find, a treasure,” Sammy continued to poke fun at me. “And remember, no fooling around. I’ll want a complete report on everything you do. Now go! I’ve no more patience — go show those bastards who we are.”

  So many things were rising and falling in my heart, but I wasn’t about to let them know it. “I’m doing this just for you, Sammy,” I said. “We’ll talk more about this after the operation. By the way, do you need anything? A massage? A manicure? Because my personal assistant here would just love to do anything for you.”

  “Just go, already!” she screamed.

  I gave Cooper the Kia keys, followed him down to the car, and sank into the seat beside him, trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of his body. The bitter smell of memories too happy for me to bear.

  “Let’s start at the office,” my personal assistant said in a tone I found way too bossy. “I scheduled an appointment with someone there.”

  ◊◊◊

  The office smelled like mold. When I opened the shutters, I felt Cooper standing behind me, watching. I turned around and saw a veil of sadness cloaking his magnificent face. What’s going on?

  “Look, Cooper, if you’re going to—”

  “I’m sorry, Dickie.” Before I realized what was happening, my hands were bound by the pink furry handcuffs from our rendezvous at the port.

  “What’s going on? Is this your way of getting back at me? Is that why you hooked up with Sammy?”

  He didn’t answer, just pulled me after him, pushed me into Sammy’s armchair and kneeled in front of me.

  “Now I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. Just give me ten fucking minutes of your time. I owe you an explanation, and you’re going to let me give it to you. After that, you do whatever you want.”

  I nodded helplessly.

  “My story starts with Yehiel Kedem. Did I ever tell you about him?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  His beautiful face was pale; eyes the green of fresh grape leaves were fraught with pain. It was as if the effort of conjuring up the story were burdening every fiber of his being. “I was sure I told you about him. Yehiel was my commanding officer. A strong man, a man to look up to, the kind of man who changes your life. They don’t make them like that anymore.

  “When his mother called me, I was on my way to the Himalayas. I think we were still in touch then. I wrote you about McLeod Ganj, didn’t I? The plan was to spend a month there, then get to Nepal before coming back home.”

  “That’s what you promised me,” I whispered.

  “Right, and that was my plan. But Yehiel’s mother told me he hadn’t called home in over four weeks and begged me to go looking for him. I found him a month later, or what was left of him. The drugs had eaten him all up. He had just wanted to experiment a little. He thought the drugs would never bring down someone as strong as he was. Same old hubris story — the great hero provoking the gods and being punished by them. He was finished, sick and beaten. His body was completely wasted. The Indian guy who helped me find him said most people in Yehiel’s condition were already marked for death.

  “I took him out of the hostel. I carried him on my shoulders, just like he carried me when he rescued me from a bunch of lunatic Hezbollah soldiers. Back then, he was superhuman, could escape even the fires of hell, but no…”

  “Where did you take him?”

  “The Indian offered to let us stay at his house. I don’t have much, he said, but what little I have is yours to share. I’ll never forget those words. And that’s where we went. Yehiel, who weighed barely a hundred pounds, and me. Five months, Dickie, I spent five months fighting a demon that just wouldn’t let go of him — the drug. I had to be there every time the demon came for him. I had to help him get clean. Do you understand what I’m saying here?”

  “You could have called, told me about it, explained. I would have come to help.”

  “No,” he said and got closer. “It was something I had to do on my own. I held him close, right against my heart, just as he did for me when he carried my bullet-riddled body to his Jeep. We had to be together, face the demon together, go through it all together — the fear, the anger, the terrible tremors, the fever, the screaming, the nightmares, the lies — just the two of us, far from the world, up in the mountains. To bring back the man he used to be. I took my time, because I had no other choice.” Cooper went silent. His face regained its color. Then he said, “I sent you a postcard from Rishikesh. Didn’t you get it?”

  “What was I supposed to make of that postcard? ‘I’m going to the mountains, I need some time.’ You also drew a cabin, some mountaintops and two people. Don’t get insulted, but you’re not exactly Picasso. What was I supposed to think? That you bought a house? Married a Tibetan monk?”

  “I wrote you that I—”

  “Yeah, that you needed time. It scared me. I thought you weren’t sure about us anymore, that…”

  “I thought you’d get my clues. After all, you’re a detective.”

  “I couldn’t understand or guess anything. Did your parents know?”

  “Not exactly. They only knew someone close to me was in trouble and that I was with him, that I wouldn’t be available for a while. It was important to keep everything secret. I didn’t want anyone to know what was happening to him. It could have ruined his chances of starting over.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s just the way it is. Once someone is branded as a drug addict, he bears that mark of Cain for the rest of his life. Understand, sweetheart, this is a wonderful man who had gotten in trouble and turned into a wreck. I couldn’t tell anyone about his condition.”

  Cooper took the ridiculous handcuffs off my wrists and set them on the table. I continued to sit there with my arms crossed.

  “I was completely focused on Yehiel, and when I called, you—”

  “I didn’t want to talk to you. Look, in the first month after you left, you still sounded loving and like you were yearning for my company. After the second month, you just disappeared. I was surprised at first. When the silence lasted, I thought perhaps I’d insulted you. By the fourth month, I was insulted; then insult turned to anger. By the time you came back, I was furious and couldn’t bring myself to talk to you.”

  “I can’t blame you, Dickie.” He shook a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, lit it, and handed it to me. “That’s just the way you are — volatile, temperamental.
I should have cuffed you a week ago so you’d listen to what I had to say.”

  “Where is he now?”

  A wide smile rose to his lips. “Doing what he was born to do, coaching troubled teens. Next year he’s going to college — philosophy and mathematics. Now do you understand how important it was to keep everything secret?” He suddenly looked like a proud father speaking of his gifted son.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Dikla, what’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So, are we…? I mean, are we a team again?”

  “Maybe we should do a little less talking.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “What are you waiting for, Cooper? Open your eyes, man, I’m right here!”

  His features froze, at a loss. Then he started laughing. I joined him, and the laughter undid all the knots and tangles and opened all the blocked roads and passageways of our hearts. Finally, I could sink into his eyes.

  He rose to his feet, leaned over, and kissed my forehead. His lips traveled in circles across my nose, my eyes, my lips. He inhaled my scent as if it were a precious gift.

  Our hands guided us back to all the forgotten places. Goosebumps rose everywhere he touched me, and I shuddered with pleasure.

  “Hold on,” said Cooper and pushed me away gently. “We’re getting carried away. I forgot about Tzvika. He’s—”

  “Let me guess, another one of your army buddies.”

  “Not exactly. Well, actually, yes.” Cooper smiled at me. “He used to be a combat medic, but now he’s a paramedic. I asked him to find out about the ambulance. He called me and said he found something. He was supposed to be here by now.”

  “Actually, I’ve been here for six and a half minutes,” a voice called from the corridor. “I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

  A guy wearing wire-frame glasses came into the room, slapped Cooper on the back, shook my hand with a smile, gave us both a knowing wink, and sat down.

  “So it goes like this — I’ve made a few calls.”

  “And?”

  “Just like you thought, the entire scene at Buki Ben Yagli Street was just one big charade.”

  “Put on by whom?”

  “It turned out someone contacted a few private ambulance companies last night and wanted to urgently rent an ambulance without any equipment or paramedics. They said it was for shooting a movie.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Yes. They came up with a story about a crazy movie director who suddenly decided he needed an ambulance for a day or two for a certain scene. A company called Gold Emergencies in Kfar Saba had an available ambulance and rented it to them. They got it back this morning. End of story.”

  “Well done! Great job!” Cooper gave his buddy a good old military slap on the shoulder.

  Tzvika flushed red at the praise and placed a folded page on the table. “Here are all the details. If you need anything else, just say the word.” He followed up with another wink, and turned to leave. After the door slammed behind him, there was only silence.

  Cooper didn’t move. I didn’t know why he was hesitating, and I didn’t care. My heart was beating fast. I stood before him and without fear or shame, did exactly what I needed to. I stepped closer to him, eyes glued to his. Slowly, I took off my shirt, my bra, my jeans. Finally, I pulled down my panties. When I was completely naked, surprisingly free of any awkwardness, I moved so close I could feel his breath and offered myself to him.

  “Come,” I whispered.

  He dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face in my stomach. He smelled like citrus blossoms, both sweet and sour. Just the way I like it.

  I helped him undress. He was ready for me.

  There, in Sammy’s office, on the carpet, between the fax machine and the chairs, we made up for lost time. Our lovemaking was tender, uninhibited, as long and complex as a symphony with countless movements and rhythm changes. It had definitely been worth the wait. Cooper was patient and attentive and allowed me to be the one making the music. He tended to me, then went out on a wild ride and carried me off with him. When we were sated, and he collapsed happily in my arms, we knew no more words were necessary.

  30

  Two hours later, my hand in his, sharing the wild, intoxicating scent of our bodies, we drove to the city of Kfar Saba. Cooper suggested we go there without calling first.

  In the company offices, we found Avi, the manager. He was familiar with all the details and couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about. They rented ambulances and medical equipment all the time.

  “I have no idea who they were. They just rented the ambulance and got it back to us without a scratch.”

  “How did they pay?”

  “In cash.”

  “Maybe you remember what the people who rented it looked like?”

  “There was a tall guy who looked a little like Arnold Schwarzenegger. The other one was limping.”

  “Straight hair, a little balding, not too tall?” I completed his description.

  “Exactly. You know the guy?”

  “I’ve had the pleasure. When he’s not busy with his work as a kidnapper, he enjoys threatening innocent women.”

  ◊◊◊

  Cooper held my hand all the way back, as if he were afraid we’d fall into the abyss the moment he let go. From time to time, he would turn and give me long, meaningful looks.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “I forgot how beautiful you are. And there’s something else.”

  “Another story you’d like to tell me?”

  “No. Tonight I intend to continue what we’ve started, tie up a few loose ends.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.

  “Suits me just fine. Meanwhile, deputy detective Cooper, what should we do next?”

  “Stop and review everything we know so far.”

  ◊◊◊

  We sat down to a late lunch at a seafood restaurant in Jaffa.

  “There are too many unknowns in this story,” he said, and his fingers brushed over mine, sending electric currents of warmth and pleasure through me.

  “Here are the ones I want to start with,” I continued. “Daria took my phone, which was later found on the roof. Which means she probably spoke with someone. But who? Did she hear something so terrifying it made her desperate enough to jump off the roof? Then there’s the taste-free, vegan pizza brought by the messenger of doom from Ramat Poleg. And Galia, who kept refusing to talk to me, then suddenly called me out of the blue. Who was then kidnapped by the limping psycho who searched my house for something Daria had supposedly left behind…” I trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Why didn’t you call the police after he left?”

  “Never mind,” I mumbled.

  “I know you. You probably felt you deserved to be punished. Always blaming yourself. All right, what else?”

  “All this is still not enough to go to the police with, but what if we add the attack on Ehud Gal, whose family owns a lot that is now a Magidal Preschool Network construction site, the same company where our Daria worked and from which she escaped. And in the background, there’s his gorgeous sister, Avital, who, just like Daria, took the quick plunge to death, and just like Galia stole for some higher cause.” I stopped and thought for a moment. “Avital was Galia’s friend. And she was also running away from something. Do you we think we should contact the police and tell them about the possibility that Galia has been kidnapped?”

  “Yes, but only if we are able to claim with absolute certainly that it was her, only if we’re sure she is connected to Daria. Let’s continue to sniff around for a few days. We don’t have enough solid evidence.” He took out a piece of paper. “Let’s start with Daria.” He wrote her name at the top of the page. “Why did she ju
mp from the roof? Because she didn’t want to meet her parents? Or because she really was unbalanced?”

  “No. She was upset, desperate, but I have no doubt she was afraid of something we don’t yet fully understand.”

  “We know that she sent the pastor to see Ehud Gal, who was attacked soon after. By the way, do you know who found him?”

  “The newspapers said it was a young woman, a friend, but I couldn’t find any mention of her name. Another question I’ll need to ask…”

  “Bender?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. Does he know?

  “Yes. Assuming he’s still in the country,” I said.

  Cooper’s face turned red. When do I tell him? Should I ever tell him?

  He continued to write all the known facts on his piece of paper. “I think we need to learn more about the pastor’s involvement. We need to find out what else he knows. Your father was too easy on him. Instead of asking him pointed questions, he was too busy apologizing and explaining. Let’s go see him again. Start from square one.”

  “Square one is Yokneam,” I said.

  “Right, and we’ll get there. But for now, let’s try to recreate what happened to Daria after she left Yokneam and arrived in Tel Aviv. We know for a fact that she had a hiding place close to the church. I think the pastor knows exactly where it was.”

  ◊◊◊

  When we got to the church, we found two young women whose heads were covered by colorful kerchiefs. They were busy slicing bread and spreading it with something. Piles of sandwiches were in front of them, waiting for distribution. They stared at us suspiciously then told us we should go because no one was there.

  “But you’re here,” Cooper told them in English, “and that’s all we need.” He gave me a signal to keep my distance, sat down, and started to chat with them and help them prepare the sandwiches. Ten minutes and countless giggles later, he said goodbye and returned to me with the following details: The pastor was in Italy for a convention. Prince Albert, his assistant, was running things on his behalf. The guy worked as a dishwasher not far from the church building, in a coffee shop on Levinsky Street. Prince Albert, the dishwasher — I liked him already.