Hide and Seek

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Hide and Seek Page 11

by Lynette Eason


  “She’s probably busy with her father.”

  “I know, but still…” She sighed. “Denise has been so good about keeping in touch since she left. We’ve talked on the phone almost every week since she moved.”

  “I’m sure she’ll return your call soon.”

  “I suppose I could just go up to the hospital.”

  “Do you want me to drop you off?”

  “No, I want to be there for Denise if she wants me to, but right now Molly comes first.”

  As they drove to the construction site, his mind whirled with other questions he wanted answers to. Starting with Jordan. And if he and Erica were going to have any sort of romantic relationship, Max needed to know those answers. If she would tell him.

  “Jordan’s not a very friendly guy, is he?”

  She shot him a sideways glance he caught from the corner of his eye. “Jordan’s all right. He’s just hard to get to know.”

  “He makes it hard.”

  “I suppose he does.”

  She wasn’t going to say anything about the man, negative or otherwise. Max appreciated her tact but at the same time found it frustrating. He looked at her. “Did you two date?”

  “No.” A smile curved her lips. He turned his attention back to the road, but all he wanted to do was watch her. He decided he could spend hours just watching her.

  “So…is there a history there? A story?” He knew he was pushing but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  At first she didn’t answer. About a mile later, she finally said, “Jordan is a unique person. He has a history, but I’m not part of it. All I know is he and Brandon were roommates and best friends in college. About a year ago, Jordan showed up and needed a place to crash. Brandon then talked him into joining Finding the Lost shortly thereafter.” She looked at Max and added, “He’s very good at what he does.”

  Max pulled into Brown and Jennings Construction and parked. He didn’t really want to hear any more about Jordan. And he didn’t enjoy the admiration in Erica’s voice when she talked about him.

  Jealousy was a new emotion for Max. He seemed to be feeling it a lot lately, and he didn’t like it. He opened his door. “Let’s go see what we can find out.”

  Erica nodded, and he chose to ignore the somewhat amused look on her face.

  At the desk, Max flashed his private investigator credentials and the young receptionist’s eyes widened. “What do you need?”

  “To speak with Kenneth Harper.”

  She got on the phone. When she hung up, she said, “Go through that door to the left. He’s waiting for you.”

  Max appreciated the fact that Erica was allowing him to take the lead on this. As she walked from the car to the office, he could feel her impatience ramping up again. No one else would probably notice, but having spent most of the past thirty-six hours in her presence, he’d learned to read her pretty well.

  Kenneth was a short round man with a bald head and blue eyes that flitted between Max and Erica. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”

  “I found your business card in my sister’s belongings,” Max said. “I wondered what she wanted from you.”

  Kenneth scratched his head. “We had advertised at some of the local restaurants that we were looking to hire a receptionist. She came in for an interview.”

  Max sat still, trying to process the information. “An interview?”

  “Yeah, but she was just too young and inexperienced. She was up front and honest about the fact that she’d been through rehab, but you can see this place—it’s crazy. I needed someone with experience. There just wasn’t time to train anyone.” He looked at Erica. “You look like the type who would know how to run an office. Want to apply?” The flirty tone in his voice grated on Max.

  “How did she react when you turned her down?” Max asked.

  Still looking at Erica, Ken said, “She said she understood, but I could tell she was disappointed. I felt kind of bad about it. Then I saw her name on the news.”

  “Did you call the cops and let them know she’d been here?” Erica asked.

  He flushed and rubbed his chin. “No.”

  Max lifted a brow. “Why not?”

  Finally, the man’s eyes met his. “You’re not a cop, right?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Ken shrugged. “I didn’t have the time to mess with them coming out and asking a bunch of questions I don’t have the answers for. Simple as that. If I thought I could have helped them, I would have called, but she was in and out, and I have no idea where she was going once she walked out my door.”

  “Did you notice how she got here for her interview?”

  Ken pursed his lips. “Came in a little white car. Someone else was driving. I remember because the car was blocking one of my trucks and I had to wave it out of the way.”

  “Male or female driver?”

  “Couldn’t tell.” Another shrug. “Didn’t look.”

  “And when was this?”

  “About two weeks ago.”

  “You got security video?”

  “Yeah, but it’s only good for a week. Then we start over.”

  Of course.

  Max stood. This was getting them nowhere. Erica rose, too, and held out her hand. Ken eagerly took it.

  And held on way too long.

  Max put a hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the door, forcing the man to release her. “Thanks for your help.”

  Thanks for nothing.

  Kenneth looked disappointed at Max’s possessiveness with Erica, and Max felt a dart of satisfaction shoot through him.

  Once outside, Erica planted her hands on her hips. “What was that Tarzan routine about?”

  He blinked. “He was flirting with you. I thought I’d get you out of there.”

  She lifted her chin and he braced himself. “I’ve had men flirt with me before. I can handle it myself, thanks.”

  What had he done?

  His bewilderment must have been stamped on his face because her eyes softened. She dropped her hands from her hips and said, “Just because you kissed me once doesn’t give you the right to do this kind of thing.”

  Kissed her once? He pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly. He felt her still, held her a bit longer, then set her back from him and said, “Now we’ve kissed twice. Have I earned that right yet?”

  She sputtered and he grinned, enjoying her discomfiture. Finally, she tossed her hands up and shook her head. “I just mean that I can take care of myself in some situations, okay?

  “Sure.” He paused. “How am I supposed to know the difference between the situations?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Right.”

  *

  Friday morning, Erica woke early and climbed out of bed around five thirty. She’d finally fallen asleep last night out of sheer exhaustion, prayers for Molly’s return and Lydia’s safety on her lips.

  With her bedroom door locked, her gun in the drawer of her end table and Jordan and Max taking shifts playing bodyguard, she’d felt safe.

  Safe enough to grab a few hours of much-needed sleep.

  After a quick shower and some time with her Bible and her Lord, she dressed and looked out the window to spot Max sitting in his truck, sipping coffee from a thermos top, eyes narrowed and watchful, taking in the area around him. She grabbed her purse and walked out of the house toward him.

  When he spotted her, he smiled, yet it didn’t reach his eyes, which darted from one end of the street to the other, then back to her. She shivered, the hair on her neck spiking at the danger she sensed could be lurking in the morning shadows. She slipped into the passenger seat. “You can’t do this much longer. You’re going to wear yourself out.”

  “I’m a private investigator. I do this all the time.”

  “Maybe so, but still…”

  “It was quiet last night.”

  She found herself looking at the strong fingers holding the thermos top in a gentle grasp. Just
then, her phone rang. It was Denise. Finally calling her back. “Hello?”

  “Erica, I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to call you. I guess Peter told you about my dad.”

  “Yes. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming to town? You know I would have been there for you, sat with your father, whatever you needed.”

  A sigh came over the line. “I know. And I’m sorry. I guess the only-child syndrome kicked in, and I just figured I would handle it myself. And you’re busy with your business. I didn’t want to impose.”

  “Impose? Denise. Come on. We’re friends.”

  “I know, I know. Forgive me, please. You’re welcome to come help as much as you want.” Another quiet sigh. “But truly there’s not much to do. The cancer has riddled his body so now we’re just waiting for the end. They’ve upped his morphine, so…”

  It was just a matter of time. “I’m so sorry, Denise. What can I do?”

  Max shot her a concerned look and she gave a helpless shrug.

  “Nothing right now,” Denise said, “but I’ll let you know if I need something.”

  “Okay.” Erica frowned.

  “On a different note, I noticed Peter wasn’t looking so great. He’s still using?”

  “Afraid so.”

  Denise paused. “Did he ever say anything about Molly?”

  Pain seared her. “No. We’ve discussed this, Denise. I don’t think he had anything to do with her disappearance.”

  “So you say, but after his threats, you have to admit he seemed like the most likely suspect.”

  “Yes, it seemed so at that time.” She left it at that.

  “The doctor just walked in. I’d better run.”

  “Keep me updated.”

  “Sure,” Denise replied, and Erica hung up.

  Max looked at her and raised a brow. She shook her head. “Denise has never given up on the idea that Peter was behind Molly’s kidnapping.” She told him how Peter had come asking for money for a hit and how she’d refused him. “He grabbed me and pushed me into the wall then stole the money out of my purse. It wasn’t much and he threatened to get the money one way or another. Molly disappeared about a week later.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “Sounds like she has reason to believe he had something to do with the kidnapping.”

  “I know. And I’m ashamed to say that I even entertained the thought for a while, but…”

  “But?”

  “I don’t anymore.”

  “Any proof?”

  “Nope. No proof he did it, and no proof he didn’t do it. I choose to believe he didn’t. Just like you choose to believe Lydia in spite of the evidence against her. So. Are we going to sit here all day or go find some answers?”

  He smiled. “I made an appointment to see Red at eleven. She’s back at the rehab facility.”

  “Well, that was easy. I think that’s the first thing that’s gone our way since all of this started.” He cranked the car and pulled away from the curb.

  Erica bit her lip then asked a question that had been bugging her. “Has Lydia ever accused you of wanting to control or run her life?”

  “Yes, that was every other sentence for a while when she was talking to me. Why?”

  “Peter said something along those lines the other night.”

  “It’s a manipulation tactic. The addict tries to throw the guilt back on the person who cares for him, make that person feel guilty for not ‘helping’ him enough. And then when your help isn’t the kind he wants, you’re being controlling.”

  She grunted. “It’s rather effective.” She nibbled on a thumbnail. “Did it work on you? When Lydia used it?”

  “The first few times. Until I caught on.” He smirked. “And the crazy thing was, I had studied that stuff in law enforcement, seen it in the families of addicts when I worked the streets. It wasn’t until a buddy of mine pointed it out to me that I saw it with Lydia.”

  Erica sighed and leaned her head back. “I don’t want to control his life. I want him to grow up and live his life. I want him to have the life God created him to have.”

  “I know.” He reached over and took her hand in his. The feel of his warm fingers wrapped around hers chased some of the chill from her bones. “The problem is, he has to want that, too.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, then fell silent.

  She was glad Max didn’t let go of her hand until he had to put the car in Park. Having someone to talk to, someone to hold her made all the difference in the world to her. She just prayed that when they finally found Lydia, her budding happiness wouldn’t come crashing down.

  TWELVE

  Red wasn’t happy to see them, but Max hoped she’d come around. He and Erica sat across from her on a love seat—the family room had several for visitors. Max had chosen this room for its less-threatening atmosphere.

  Staring at Red, he had a feeling not much threatened her. She stared back, measuring, watching.

  Erica said, “Thanks for meeting with us.”

  The girl shrugged. “Got nothing better to do. So what’s this about anyway?”

  “Lydia Powell,” Max said.

  Red froze, leaned forward and took another look at Max. Recognition burned across her gaze. She stood. “I got nothing to say to you.”

  “Wait! Please!” Erica jumped up and raced after Red. She touched her arm and Red spun, but her eyes landed on Max.

  “Lydia told me how you called DSS on her and got her taken away from your mother. She told me she never wanted to see you again. So if she’s off your radar then good for her.” She turned back toward the hall.

  Erica blurted, “She’s in trouble and you may be the only one who can help.”

  Red stopped. She turned and this time looked at Erica. “What kind of trouble?”

  “You haven’t seen the news?”

  “No.” A frown puckered the skin between her brows. “The news is boring and depressing.” Her eyes flicked back and forth between them.

  “Lydia’s wanted for questioning in a kidnapping,” Erica told her.

  “Kidnapping!” Red’s eyes widened. “She’d never do anything like that.”

  Satisfaction and relief filled Max at Red’s spontaneous outburst. “I know. But the cops don’t. That’s why I need to find her.”

  Erica’s lips went tight and he could see she didn’t agree with him. Or Red. Renewed sadness hit him that Erica truly believed Lydia had something to do with Molly’s disappearance. He’d just have to keep working to prove her wrong.

  “She doesn’t want you to find her,” Red snapped.

  “Look, Red,” Erica intervened. “Lydia may have some answers we desperately need to find this missing child. But it appears that someone doesn’t want Lydia found.”

  Just like with Bea, they told the story of Lydia being attacked at the crack house. And like Bea, concern filled Red’s eyes. As painful as it was for Max to think about his sister’s difficult journey, it was good for him to know that she’d met people who cared for her, and worried about her. Just like he did.

  “I don’t know where she is. I saw her about a week ago and she was acting a little weird. I just thought she was back on the dope.”

  “But she wasn’t?”

  “I don’t know. It would have surprised me because she was so determined to stay clean. She talked about getting a job and proving to you that she isn’t the loser you think she is.”

  Max winced. “I don’t think she’s a loser.”

  Red ignored him. “Now that I know all this, she could have been jittery ’cuz she was scared.”

  Max’s phone rang and he grabbed it to shut it off. Then he saw the number. “Excuse me a second.” He stepped from the room, leaving Erica and Red staring after him. “Chris, have you found her?”

  “No, but we’ve got a good idea where she was about four o’clock this morning.”

  “Where?”

  “At Erica’s office.”

  “Please, Red,” Er
ica pleaded, trying to keep one eye on Max, “if there’s anything else you know, tell me now.”

  “I’ll think about it.” The attitude had returned along with the curled lip, and Erica knew she was done here. Erica thought the young woman might know more than she was sharing, but figured she wanted to talk to Lydia before she told too much.

  Max waved her over urgently. Erica said goodbye to Red, and told her to call them if she thought of anything. The look on the woman’s face made it clear that that probably wasn’t going to happen.

  In the car, she asked Max, “Can we monitor her calls?”

  “I’ve already thought of that.” He waved his phone at her. “Katie’s working on getting a court order and I’ve got her counselor stalling on letting her use the phone until they can get it set up. Katie wants to question Red, but agreed to hold off and see if she makes any phone calls in the next few hours.”

  “Does she even have that privilege?”

  “Yes, she’s been good since she’s been here.”

  Erica nodded. “I’d like to go to the hospital to check on Mr. Dougherty.”

  “Denise’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, Tanner is her married name?”

  “Denise was married for a brief time, but her husband left her for another woman.”

  He winced. “When was that?”

  “About a year after I was married.” She shook her head. “They seemed so happy. I never would have thought he’d do something like that.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Definitely. It changed her, of course.” Erica sighed. “She cried on my shoulder and I did my best to help her.” She bit her lip. “But it was still a terribly hard time. In order to get through it, she focused on her job and ended up pulling away from everyone, including her family—and me. She’d been offered a promotion at one point, but had turned it down because her husband didn’t want to move. After he left, there was no reason for her to say no the second time they offered it. And she left. I think it was a huge relief for her. Even though I missed her, I could tell it was the right thing for her.”

 

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