by Todd Morgan
“I assume you didn’t check in together.”
“No.”
“Anybody else see her?”
I shrugged.
“Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Her husband showed up.”
Randy sat up straight in his chair. “He caught you?”
I shook my head. “He was drunk, raising hell across the hall.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I took a picture of it and sent it to her. It was like our little code. That was the view from our peephole. He must have seen it.”
“Nice,” Coleman repeated. “Real nice.”
“When Steven realized she wasn’t there, he went off the deep end—even punched the door.”
“I saw the cast. Those hotel doors don’t give much.”
“No, they don’t. He wrecked her car on his way out.”
Randy said, “He called us the next morning to report her missing. We waited the forty-eight hours and began looking, starting with the neighbors.”
Coleman said, “How long has this been going on?”
“What difference does that make?”
He held out his hands. “You know how these things go.”
“Yeah.” Ask all the questions you can think of and see what shakes out. “A few months.”
“How many?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t mark it down on my calendar. Late summer.”
“How did it start?”
***
Midday, I was working in the yard, the sun beating down on my bare back. I didn’t have the best looking yard in the subdivision, nor did I have the worst. It was exactly what I was looking for. Somewhere in the middle. There was something satisfying about it, instant results from your hard work—a rarity in today’s age. After a day’s labor, it felt good to sit on that back deck, drink in hand and appreciate what you had done. I will say this, though; I enjoyed it much less in late August than I did in early May.
Loud noises had long been a companion of mine, so I took the proper precautions when I could. Weedeater in hand, plugs in ears, I was working the fence I shared with the Noble’s. Steven had put a privacy fence on the back and the other side, but evidently he figured he didn’t need one between us. Big mistake.
Amber was sunning herself poolside, in a lounge chair, lying on her stomach. I could tell she was topless, to keep those telltale white lines from her back. I had that separated feeling you get from having ear protection in, as if I was invisible or something, above it all. Amber was blond, long and lean, her tone body already dark from the sun. That fence line got a lot of attention that day.
Eventually, Amber rolled over. She adjusted the incline on her chair so she was more or less faced in my direction. She had to know I was there, from the racket and all, yet she gave no indication that she was not alone. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were full. She was wearing dark glasses so I couldn’t tell exactly where she was looking. There was no doubt about where I was looking.
A smile played on her lips.
***
“She invited me over for a dip in her pool.”
“Let me guess,” Coleman said, “you didn’t have a suit handy.”
“Something like that.”
Randy said, “And it wasn’t a onetime thing.”
I shook my head. “I already told you we got together about once a month.”
“And Steven found out about it.”
“I guess.”
“Where do you think she is, Beason?”
“Her mother’s? Maybe staying with a girlfriend. She said she was leaving him. Wrecking her car was the last straw.”
Coleman said, “So she could be with you.”
“We never talked about it.”
“Then it was purely a physical relationship?”
“Mostly. Have you talked to her parents?”
“Yeah. They haven’t heard from her,” Randy said. “According to them, this is completely out of character for her. They swear she would have called.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I think she just wants some time to figure out what to do.”
“Without her purse?” Coleman demanded. “Without calling her mother?”
“Beats me.”
“Okay.” Randy made some notes on a legal pad. “We don’t really have any reason to think foul play is involved. We have to look. You understand?”
“Sure.”
“If you hear from her, have her contact us.”
“You bet.”
I went back down the stairs and through the lobby. Bo didn’t bother to look up from his paper. Back in the Jeep, I called Amber’s cell. It went straight to voicemail.
“It’s me,” I said, still unwilling to leave my name. “Give me a call and let me know you’re safe. Or send me a text. I know you need some space and I’ll leave you alone if you want. Or I’m more than happy to talk. Steven went to the police, so you need to call them and let them know everything is okay.” I left Randy’s office number and cell, knowing he had probably already done the same.
I sat in the parking lot, thinking. Amber was a grown woman and if she wanted to disappear—for however long—that was her right. Her marriage had torpedoed and I knew how that felt. The world she had known had imploded and walking away was her choice. I could completely understand. She didn’t have any kids to worry about, only the asshole husband and an upside down mortgage. I was worried about her mental state, but not her physical safety.
Not yet.
Chapter Six
“Hello?”
“Beason?”
“Yeah.”
“This is Eric Hendricks. Have you got anything on Jenks yet?”
“Sure do. I was about to call you with an update. I got pictures of him and his secretary checking into the Chickasaw Falls Inn.”
“Oh goodie.”
“It gets better. I found his profile on a dating site. We’re meeting tonight for drinks.”
“Don’t tell me he is queer. It might help the case, but it would destroy Cynthia.”
“No. I’m a good looking blond.”
“Since when?”
“How do you want me to handle it?”
Silence.
“Selfishly speaking, it would serve my interest to have a long, drawn out trial. You know, pump up the billable hours.”
“Uh huh.”
“But since you know I’m not a greedy prick, push him to settle. I expect Mrs. Jenks will reward me handsomely for my effort.”
“What about me?”
“Greedy prick.”
“That’s me.”
“She seems to be a generous woman.”
“I’m on it.”
***
“Camp Investigations. We detect more before nine a.m. than most people do all day.”
“Hello, Beason.” A woman’s voice, a smoker’s voice, but not the sexy kind. The kind that sounded as if she was about to spit something up.
I shuddered. “Hello, mom.”
A snort. “I was wondering if you were ever going to let me see my granddaughter again.”
I took a deep breath. Guilt trips irritated me more than mimes. Of course, she knew that. “What did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you bring her by the house tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“Why?”
“If you want to see her, you can come by my house.”
She coughed. I had no way of knowing if anything came up or not, but I had my suspicions. I am a detective. “You never let me see my granddaughter.”
“This is me letting you see my daughter. I need to call Erin first.”
“You have to clear it with your niece before I can see Sarah?”
“Yes. I’m working tonight and Erin is watching the princess.”
Another snort. “Working.”
“Uh huh. You see, I have to
work to put a roof over her head and fruit loops in her bowl.”
“You could let her spend the night with us.”
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t.”
“Fine. Call your niece and let me know.”
I rolled back in my chair, a sick feeling spreading through my bowels. Talking to Felicia always made me nauseous. Some people are never happy. Lessons learned the hard way.
A car door slammed in the sock factory lot. I rose from my desk and looked out the window, still on edge after running into my new friends. Steven Noble was walking my way. How much damn drama could one day hold?
Chapter Seven
He had on a long coat over a black button down and black pants. His maitre de outfit. A smug, satisfied look was on his face. He held his arm carefully at his side.
“I talked to the police.”
“That’s what they’re there for.”
“You want to deny fucking my wife again?”
“I didn’t deny it before.”
“You didn’t admit it, either.”
“No,” I agreed. “I didn’t.”
Steven paced around my office. I didn’t know what he was looking for since the walls were bare of plaques or award. The .45 was in my drawer. I knew I wouldn’t need it.
“You here for your pound of flesh?’
He held up his cast. “Not today. I don’t doubt that I could take you, but a hero like you, I might need both hands. Might.” He stopped at the desk, picking up the only decoration I had. “Pretty girl.”
“She’s lived next door to you for almost five years.”
He looked at it for a moment longer before sitting the picture frame back. “I’ve enjoyed watching her grow up.”
“So have I. What do you want, Steven?’
Anger flared in his eyes. “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor’s.”
“Trust me on this,” I said, “I have zero interest in your ox.”
He clenched and unclenched his good hand, his jaw muscles bunching. “You shall not commit adultery.”
“Did you come here to give me a sermon?” That sick feeling from Felicia was nothing compared to this. “If so, I deserve it.”
“You deserve much worse than a sermon.”
I nodded. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I’m sorry, Steven. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Sorry? You take another man’s wife and you’re sorry?”
“I know how lame that sounds, but it’s true.”
“You’re only sorry you got caught.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I felt like shit every moment we were together. Every time I talked to her on the phone, every time we schemed behind your back, I felt lower than roadkill.”
“You didn’t feel bad enough to stop.”
“No.” Not even noon and I needed a drink. “Amber is special. There is…something about her. Something I can’t let go of.”
Steven was silent for a while. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I know.”
I sat still, waiting out the moment. His eyes watered. It was a long moment.
“You owe me.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“You’re going to find her for me.”
“No, Steven, I’m not. If she wants to go, that’s her choice.”
“It is. I’m worried about her.”
“I’m not.”
“When your wife disappears without a trace, shouldn’t a husband worry?”
Zing!
“I just want to know she is safe.”
“So if I find her, you won’t try to stop her from leaving?”
“I didn’t say that. I love her and I want her back. But if I can’t convince her, she is free to go.”
“If she doesn’t want to talk, I can’t make her.”
“Fine. As long as she calls to let me know nothing bad has happened to her, that she left of her own free will, I’ll have to take it.”
I crossed my legs, bouncing my booted foot on my knee. I said, “Okay.”
“Beason? One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Fuck you.”
And to that, I said, “Okay.”
***
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“Steven Noble wants me to find his wife.”
“You’re right,” Randy said. “I don’t believe it.”
“I told you.”
“He actually hired his wife’s lover to find her?”
“Hired may be too strong a word.”
“You and your words.”
“What do you got?”
“Nothing more than we told you this morning.”
“Can you email me a copy of the file?”
“Sure. Just as soon as you clear it with Grant.”
I groaned.
“Everything we have, we pretty much got from Mr. Noble,” he said. “You can get it from him.”
“It will save me a lot of time if I get it from you.”
“Uh huh. I’m sure Grant saving you time is at the top of his list.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
There was a long pause.
“What?”
“If something did happen to Mrs. Noble,” he said, “you know who our number one suspect would be.”
“Steven.”
“Yep. Take a wild guess who our number two would be.”
I didn’t have to think about it for very long. “Me.”
“I don’t see the Lt. agreeing to copy a file to a possible suspect.”
“Neither do I.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Officially or unofficially?”
“Either.” Randy waited a moment before continuing. “If something pops, I’ll try to let you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Best I can do.”
“I appreciate it.” I ended the call and booted up my computer. I wasn’t worried about being a possible suspect. First of all, I didn’t think anything had happened to Amber. Second of all, I hadn’t done anything. I Googled Alabama hospitals and came up with a page and a half of hits. I had a couple of hours to kill before my big date and spent most of them on the phone. The conversations all followed the same basic pattern.
“Information.”
“This is Detective Beason Camp of Chickasaw Falls. How are you today?”
“Fine. You?”
“Peachy. I’m calling to see if you have admitted an Amber Noble in the last few days.”
“I’m sorry, but we are not allowed to release patient information.”
“She has gone missing and we are checking hospitals to see if she might have been in an accident.”
“Yes, sir. I understand. However, we still can not divulge private information.”
“I’m not asking you to. I only need to know if she is there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If she isn’t a patient, then there is no way for you to divulge her information. Right?”
“Well…”
“So all you have to say is that you don’t have a patient by that name. Her family is extremely worried about her.”
And then the deep sigh. “Hang on.” Computer keys clacking. “We have not admitted a patient by that name.”
“How about any unidentified patients?”
“What?”
“Any women without identification?”
“In the last few days? No, sir, we haven’t.”
“Thank you very much. You have been a tremendous help.”
When the hospitals came up empty, I considered calling police departments on the off chance she had been arrested for something. Maybe DUI. But as soon as Randy put her in the computer, her name would have popped up. I
thought about calling auto repair shops. I had checked her car before going home and the damage had seemed mostly to the body. Nothing that would prevent her from driving it. I had once pointed out that her engine was fifteen hundred miles overdue for an oil change. She had shrugged. I didn’t think Amber would be overly concerned with a banged up bumper.
Until I talked to Steven and got a list of her friends, her parent’s number, maybe her insurance agent, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.
Chapter Eight
I was in a booth at the back corner of the bar when Melvin Jenks came in. It was half empty and half of those people were playing with their phones. He made a slow inspection of the place, checking for a divorced twenty-seven year old knockout. He came up empty and settled into a stool and ordered a drink. My laptop was on the table.
I gave him time to finish his screwdriver and order another before I approached. He was still in his suit and tie, the London Fog overcoat draped over his chair. He looked up with mild curiosity when I tapped his shoulder.
“Melvin Jenks?”
“Yes?” His face darkened, knowing at least one person in the bar knew him, would be able to report his meeting with another woman. “Can I help you?”
“J-love.”
His eyes went wide.
“Looking4Mine. I’m Penelope.”
His face went suddenly red. “What’s this all about?”
I held out my hand to the table. “Maybe we should talk in private.”
He grunted, took his fresh drink and followed. As soon as we sat, he said, “What’s this all about? Who are you?”
“My name is Beason Camp. I’m a private investigator.”
He finished the drink in one gulp.
The waiter came by, another kid attending the local college. “What can I get you?”
“Vodka and orange juice.”
I said, “Coke.”
The waiter gave me quizzical look. “Rum and coke?”
The curse of living in a small town. “No, Pete. Just Coke.”
He shrugged and walked away.
“What’s this all about?” Jenks demanded for the third time.