by Patricia Fry
“Yes, and you’ve taken a few days here and there. You’ll want to spend time with your son while he’s here. I talked to Adam the other day and he said he wants to help serve the homeless on Christmas day, too.” She chuckled. “…after he opens his gifts.”
“Won’t he have Christmas with his mom?” Brianna asked.
Savannah shook her head. “Marci and Eric are flying to Baltimore with their daughter to visit Eric’s parents for ten days and they gave Adam a choice. He said he’d rather stay with his dad and me.”
“Cool,” Margaret said. “He’s such a great kid.”
Michael smiled. “Yes, he is.”
“So, shall we celebrate together on Christmas eve?” Savannah asked the others.
“Yeah,” Margaret said. “Maybe Max can get someone else to cook the turkeys and hams that night at the church so he can join us.”
“That would be great.” Savannah turned to her sister and Bud. “You two will be with us, won’t you?”
Before Brianna could respond, Michael said, “Can’t you gals figure all that out through texts? I’d like to go home and put my feet up.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll text you the particulars,” Savannah said to Margaret and Brianna.
****
“What’s for supper?” Michael asked around six that evening.
“Supper?” Savannah repeated. “Didn’t you get enough turkey and stuffing today? And ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, yams and peas? Not to mention pie. Did you know they used Max’s famous recipe for the coconut-pumpkin pie?”
“No. Actually, I didn’t get enough. I grabbed a plate just before the crowds arrived—around eleven. That was lunch. Then Bud and I got busy, and when we finally got a chance to eat this afternoon, there wasn’t much food left. I hear some people took to-go boxes.”
She chuckled. “To-go boxes? Yeah, paper plates piled high and covered with napkins.” She grinned. “Not a bite was wasted. I’ve never seen so many clean plates left after a meal in my life.” She turned to Michael. “I don’t think everyone who came to eat were homeless. I’m pretty sure we also fed families and elderly who have homes, but are living at the poverty level. They’re the ones who were taking food home to put in their refrigerators for their next meal.”
He nodded. “I think you’re right. I got the impression that some of the cats and dogs we treated today were house pets.”
“So, the food was gone by the time you got around to eating this afternoon?” she asked. She then said, “I saw Bud around three. He was headed to the kitchen to get you guys a plate. Didn’t he bring you anything?”
“Well, yes. He managed to find us some scraps.” Michael glanced at Rags, who was sprawled across one of Buffy’s pink canopy beds, sound asleep. “But I’m afraid your cat beat me to it.”
“What? You let Rags eat stuffing and gravy and pie, for heaven’s sake?”
“Savannah, I didn’t let him. He sneaked behind my back and…”
“Oh, no, Ragsie,” she scolded, “you can’t be eating that kind of stuff.” She giggled a little when the cat raised his head and squinted in her direction.
“Well, he left most of the pie—but the cat does like pumpkin. And he’d only eaten part of the turkey when we caught him. I didn’t know what else he’d licked or spit on—I wasn’t going to eat after him. And we didn’t have another chance to get a plate. So yeah, I’m hungry.”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” she said, running her hand along his face and kissing him. “Let me see what I can find for you to eat.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it before she left the room.
Savannah had just delivered Michael a hot chicken pot pie she’d made the week before and frozen for such occasions, when her phone rang. “It’s Iris,” she muttered. Into the phone, she said, “Hi, girlfriend. Have you recovered from our big day? You were a house afire on the chow line.”
“Yes, I was,” Iris said. She paused. “Um, Savannah, have you seen Craig?”
“Craig? No. I thought he went home with you.”
“Well, we had separate cars. I thought he was right behind me.”
“Oh, he probably stopped for gas or a beer, maybe,” Savannah suggested.
Iris sighed. “Yeah, I guess. But Savannah, he’s not answering his phone.” She hesitated. “You didn’t hear him say anything about making a stop on the way home, did you?”
“No,” she said. “So, how long has it been since you two left—a couple of hours?”
“Yeah. Oh, he’ll show up. He’s done this before. I don’t know why it’s bothering me this time, only…”
“Only what, Iris?”
“I don’t know. It just seems that something’s not quite right, but I don’t know what it is or why I feel this way. Savannah, I’m worried. I have no basis to be, but I’m worried and a little scared.”
“I don’t know what to say, Iris. Normally, I’d tell you it’s silly to be concerned. But kiddo, I know how freakishly accurate your hunches can be and you’re scaring me a little, too. Logically, though,” she said in a stronger voice, “I think it’s too soon to be concerned, don’t you? I’m sure he’s just passing time with some of his detective friends or maybe catching up on some paperwork and he turned his phone off so he won’t be disturbed.”
Iris paused. “I guess so. Okay, I’ll try to relax. I have paperwork of my own. I’ll see if I can concentrate on that. Hopefully, he’ll walk through the door before I’m finished.”
“Something wrong?” Michael asked after Savannah had ended the call.
“I hope not,” she said quietly.
“What is it?”
“Well, Craig isn’t home yet.” She sat down next to Michael on the sofa. “Did you hear him say where he was going when he left the church?”
“Not that I recall. He left with Iris, didn’t he?”
“Yes, in separate cars. There’s nothing to indicate anything’s wrong, and he often turns his cell phone off. But for some reason, Iris is concerned and I’m a little worried because she’s concerned.”
After thinking about it for a moment, Michael said, “It’s probably just the environment you gals were in today.”
Savannah lowered her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there were some rough-looking characters at the church feed.”
She rolled her eyes knowingly. “So you think that rubbed off on Iris and that’s why she’s feeling kind of…maybe vulnerable or something?”
“Could be, I guess.” Michael sat forward and tested his chicken pot pie to make sure it had cooled enough to eat.
“Pie?” Lily said, approaching her daddy and peering into his plate.
He put his arm out to stop her. “Hot, punkin.”
She looked up at him. “Hot pie, Daddy?”
“Yes, hot pie. Are you hungry?”
Lily nodded.
“I thought she’d be in bed by now sound asleep,” Savannah said. “She had quite an active day.”
He chuckled. “Yes, she did. I checked on her every once in a while and she was a busy girl.” Using gestures, he spoke more animatedly to the toddler. “Lily went swinging. Lily went sliding. Lily played in the paint.”
“Paint,” she repeated.
Michael continued, “Lily played in the sandbox.” He asked the child, “Did Lily take a nap?”
The toddler just stared at him.
Savannah smoothed Lily’s hair. “Brianna said she rested with a book. They had story time and she was quiet for a while. But yeah, she was an on-the-go little gal.”
When Lily continued to stand near Michael, staring at his dinner, he tested a piece of the chicken to make sure it was cool, then offered her a bite.
Lily shook her head and pointed. “Peas, Daddy. Peas.”
“I’ll get her a plate,” Savannah said, standing up. “Go ahead and eat your supper.” She took Lily’s hand. “Let’s go get you some peas, okay, sweet pea?
”
“Sweet pea,” Lily repeated, trotting along with her mother.
After finishing his meal, Michael sat back on the sofa. When he noticed that Lily had finished her bowl of peas, he suggested, “Hey, punkin, want Daddy to read you a story? Then we’d better tuck you into bed.”
“She is kind of wound up. Yes, a quiet activity is a good idea,” Savannah said, lowering herself to the floor and pulling a few of Lily’s books from a shelf. Before she could show them to the toddler, their Himalayan-mix cat, Buffy, strolled up and rubbed against her. “Oh hi, Buffy,” Savannah crooned. “Want to hear a story?” When Buffy began sniffing the books, Savannah said, “Lily, the kitty wants to read a book. Shall we let Buffy pick one out?” Lily watched her mommy lay a few books across the floor. “Which one shall we read?” Savannah asked the cat.
Suddenly Lily ran to where the books lay and picked one up. “Puppy,” she said.
“Oh, you want to read the puppy story?”
Lily nodded, then climbed up into her Daddy’s lap with the book. “Kitty, sit,” she insisted.
“You want the kitty to sit with you? Sure,” Savannah said, lifting Buffy and placing her on the sofa next to Michael and Lily.
“All set?” Michael asked, petting Buffy’s luxurious fur. When Lily nodded, Michael kissed her cheek and began to read the story.
****
Lily had been asleep for a couple of hours when Savannah checked her watch. She placed her Kindle on the coffee table and yawned. “I can’t stand it any longer.”
“What?” Michael asked, looking up from his newspaper.
“Wondering what’s going on with Craig.” She picked up her phone. “I’m going to call Iris.” But before she could place the call, her ringtone chimed. “It’s my aunt,” she said, sounding disappointed and feeling a little impatient. “Hi,” she said into the phone.
“Have you recovered?” Margaret asked.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You don’t sound like it. You sound kind of grumpy.”
“Well, I was hoping to hear from Iris.”
Margaret’s tone became more serious. “That’s what I’m calling about. Did you know that Craig hasn’t made it home yet?”
“Oh no. I thought for sure he’d be back by now. Does anyone know what’s going on?”
“No,” Margaret said. “Iris is beside herself. The boys are with her—Brett and Chris. She hasn’t called Damon. We agreed it’s premature. I mean, how long’s he been gone—four or five hours?”
“I guess so. Poor Iris. Auntie, she senses that something’s wrong and I tend to agree with her. She’s usually right about these things. God, I hope she’s not this time.” She sat with her thoughts for a few moments, then said, “I wonder what Craig might be involved in. Does Iris know anything about his recent cases?”
“I doubt it. As you know, she pretty much stays out of his business—mostly because he would rather she not be involved. Vannie, she called some of his coworkers and they haven’t heard from him, either. Ramon said he would do some checking, but he didn’t think there was anything for Iris to be concerned about.”
“What do you think, Auntie?” Savannah asked. “Are we all overreacting? I mean, Craig does keep strange hours and sometimes he’s secretive about his detective work.”
“Like you said, Vannie, Iris has good instincts and she’s pretty worried.”
“But what can we do? Do you know? It’s too early to report him as a missing person, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, well Iris said his buddies are going to make some calls.”
“Based on her intuition? Wow!”
Margaret sighed. “I guess so. Craig’s well thought of among law enforcement. Of course, his colleagues are going to watch his back.”
“But where will they start?”
“Good question. They probably have more information than we do, though, and they know how to do a search,” Margaret reminded her.
“So we just stay in wait mode?”
“I guess so, unless you have a better idea.”
“None that Michael and Max would approve of,” Savannah lamented.
“Huh? Oh you mean we could dress in black and start prowling the slums in search of him? No thanks. I’ll wait here by my phone.” Margaret’s voice softened. “I just hope we hear from him soon.”
Chapter 3
“Still no word, Iris?” Savannah asked the following morning into the phone. “This is getting scary.”
“Tell me about it. I reported him missing around two this morning. It had been ten hours by then. Ramon and Bart were beating the bushes for him last night. You remember them. Ramon is Craig’s partner and Bart was a security guard at my open house.”
“Sure. So Bart’s working with Craig now?”
“Yeah, part time. He thought he had a lead, but he came up empty and so did Ramon. Savannah, I talked to Damon this morning; he actually has an idea.”
“He does? What?”
“He saw Craig have some sort of altercation with one of the homeless men yesterday. He said this guy’s street name is Gravel. Damon recognized him from—you know—from when he spent time on the streets.”
“An altercation?”
“Yes, at the time, Damon thought the two of them were sort of bantering with one another. But he says now that it could have been more menacing than that.”
Savannah chuckled. “Are those your son’s words, Iris? He’s quite the wordsmith, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he is,” Iris agreed. “Who would have guessed he’d become a writer? Although, Savannah, he was one smart cookie as a boy—articulate beyond his age.”
“So did he tell authorities about this Gravel guy?” Savannah asked.
“Oh yes. I had Damon talk to the detectives and give a description and all. They’re on it. At this point, he’s their number-one suspect.”
“Suspected of what?” Savannah asked.
“Well, maybe of grabbing Craig and holding him.” Iris began to choke up. “God, Savannah, I don’t know. I just hope he’s not—you know, dead or bleeding to death someplace.”
Savannah remained silent for a moment. “Iris, do you want me to come over there? Would you like company?”
Iris sniffled. “Oh, no. I’m okay. Brett’s here. Chris had to work this morning and he’ll be home soon. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing any of us can do but wait.”
“Hey, maybe someone else saw something. Have you talked to Pastor Sheila, Brianna and Bud, and some of the others who were there yesterday?”
“I plan to do that this morning. I’m using the house phone to make calls and leaving my cell free in case…” Iris began to weep.
“Okay,” Savannah said. “Good thinking.”
“He’s just got to be okay. I don’t know what I’d do…” Iris paused. “Savannah, Brett says a detective is on the other phone. Gotta go.”
“Still nothing?” Michael asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Savannah shook her head. “This is so crazy awful. What could have happened?” She looked up at her husband from where she sat at the kitchen table. “I guess Damon saw some sort of conflict yesterday between Craig and a homeless man named Gravel.”
“Gravel?” Michael said, frowning.
“Yeah, that’s his street name. Some of the homeless people take on nicknames or maybe other homeless people give them the names. I don’t know how that works.”
“How’s Iris?” Michael asked, sitting down at the table across from his wife.
“Oh, having a rough time, of course. Poor thing. Brett’s with her and Chris is coming home after his morning shift at work.”
“The boys are attending the community college, aren’t they?” he asked.
“Yes, and working part time. I think they’re planning to attend college down south next year. They’ve both decided to go into the financial field—banking or accounting or something.”
“Good for them. They’re good boys. They never actually gave Iris any trouble growing up, did they?” he asked.
“No. I guess they’re grateful to her. You know, she didn’t have to raise them when their father abandoned the family. Their alcoholic mother sure wasn’t going to step up to the plate. Iris was all they had and she was happy to make a home for them.” Savannah placed some of her scrambled eggs on Lily’s plate. “She should be proud of how they turned out.”
“I’m sure she is. They seem fond of Craig,” he said.
“Oh yes. I guess it was a little rough at first, but from what I understand and have observed, the boys have really bonded with the detective.”
Michael squinted. “You and Rags have something going on today, don’t you?”
“Oh, my gosh, yes. I’d almost forgotten. Rob set up a book signing for the cats’ children’s books this morning at the library. You know, the kids are out of school this week. Auntie’s bringing Jack this time. If he doesn’t cooperate, she can run him home and exchange him for Layla.”
“And what if Rags doesn’t cooperate?”
She grinned. “I have no substitute for him.”
“You have Buffy.”
Savannah winced. “I don’t think I want to subject her to the chaos that can occur in a room full of children. Besides, she’s not in the books, so what would be the point?” She started to take a sip of her orange juice when her cell phone rang. “I hope that’s Iris calling with good news.”
Michael looked at his watch. “Who else would call this early? Of course it is.”
“Nope,” she said to him before taking the call. “Hi, Auntie. Are you ready for our big day?”
“I guess so. What time do we have to be at the library?”
“Eleven. What’s wrong?” Savannah asked. “You sound down.”
“What’s wrong?” Margaret repeated. “Craig’s missing, that’s what’s wrong. Vannie, what do you suppose has happened? How could someone with Craig’s instincts and experience be...um…well, missing?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem possible, but he is human. He isn’t some superhero.”