by Al Boudreau
“Perky? I’ve always thought of southern women as charming. Flirtatious, even. But not perky. When I think of perky, I picture a teenager chewing bubble gum.”
“Yeah, I guess a southern drawl sounds charming enough,” Sarah said with a shrug. “I have a hunch it would take some getting used to, though. You know, being around that accent for a long period of time.”
I put the car in gear and headed toward the hospital. “Funny thing. I’ve known a few folks who never lived anywhere but the northeast, until they decided to move south. And after six months or so they started sounding just like the locals.”
“Are you saying it’s contagious?” Sarah asked.
I shot her a sidelong glance. “Wow. Tough crowd.”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I feel terrible for both Mr. and Mrs. Iacona. Especially for her. Son goes missing. Now her husband’s on the way to the hospital with who-knows-what wrong with him. Believe me, I’ll be the first to bend over backwards in order to help this woman.”
“I know that,” I said. “What’s the matter? Can’t take a little ribbing?”
Sarah looked at me, eyebrows raised and jaw hanging open. “Really? I don’t think you want to go there.” She began to laugh, then scrunched up her face and back-handed me in the shoulder. “Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish.”
“OK, tough girl.”
“Bring me up to speed with the particulars,” Sarah said. “Their son. He’s how old?”
“Turned sixteen in March. Got his license about a month ago. Been working during the summer and on weekends, for a little over a year now. His name’s Ryan.”
“Huh.”
“What’s ‘huh’?” I asked.
“Well … he’s an only child, right?”
“Yep.” I waited a few seconds for Sarah to answer my question, but she stayed quiet. “What are you thinking?”
“Safe to say I have a fair amount of experience with raising an only child. And a son. Mrs. Iacona sounded really upset about Jay and her son. But Jay … well, I guess I thought he’d be more focused on the business of us locating Ryan.”
“So … what? You don’t think he was as disturbed as he should have been?” I asked. “Because I can’t say I agree with you. He seemed pretty distraught to me. I know you weren’t at the initial meeting with Iacona, but finding his son is why he hired us.”
“I’m not saying he wasn’t distraught, Carter. It’s just … well, my initial impression was that it wasn’t all about his son, that’s all. There was something else. I can’t really say what, or even why I feel that way. Just my intuition talking.”
“So, what? You feel like there’s something he’s not telling us? Like maybe he’s involved?”
“Carter, no. I didn’t say that. And I’m not implying that. It’s just … well, I guess what I was sensing was some sort of disconnect where Iacona and his son are concerned. It’s probably nothing.”
I knew from experience not to question Sarah’s early impressions when it came to psyching out cases. Her sensibilities seemed to trump my gut more times than not. Just another aspect of what made her contributions to our organization so valuable. However, I still needed to understand where her intuitive sense was coming from concerning Jay and his son. “Sorry, Sarah, but I need something tangible. You know, the spark that made you feel this way about Jay.”
Sarah nodded. “Okay. Personal effects in the guy’s office. What did you see?”
I rubbed my chin. “Photographs. Sitting on his desk.”
“Of?” Sarah asked.
I thought back to our time in the room. “His wife?”
“Exactly,” Sarah replied. “And not one of his son.”
“Yep. You’re right,” I said. “And Mrs. Iacona? What’s your read on her?”
The question earned me a blank stare from Sarah. “What am I? Wonder Woman? I’ve yet to even meet this woman.”
“Yeah, I know. I just figured with all your female intuition juju, you might have an early clue there, too.”
“Wow. You are really something tonight,” she said, squinting at me. “Keep it up, and I might have to break out my wooden paddle when we get home.”
“Oh, no. Anything but that,” I said with a chuckle. “The Punisher strikes again.”
Bridgeport Hospital’s massive sign shone in the distance. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything since noon. And I wasn’t too keen on the prospect of hospital cuisine. “You hungry?” I asked.
“My tummy is too unsettled by this case to want anything now.”
I nodded and signaled our turn into the hospital parking lot. My stomach could wait. I pulled out my phone after I found a parking spot close to the entrance. “Mrs. Iacona, this is Carter Peterson. We just pulled into the hospital lot,” I said, at which point she gave me her husband’s room number and told me she’d meet us in the hallway, just outside his room.
As we made our way into the building it dawned on me that I’d spent more time on hospital property this year than the rest of my years in the area combined. It wasn’t a stat I was all too jazzed about. Like most folks, I wasn’t a big fan of healthcare facilities in general. Too much pain and suffering in the air. Maybe it was a consequence of being a beat cop for too many years.
We rode the elevator to the second floor in silence and found Mrs. Iacona standing in the hallway as soon as we exited the lift. She wore on her face what I gathered was a look of nervous anticipation. “Mrs. Iacona? Carter Peterson,” I said and offered my hand.
“So pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Peterson.”
“And my partner, Sarah Woods.”
“Ms. Woods. Such a pleasure. So kind of you to come all the way down here this late in the evening.”
“Please, call me Sarah. Any word on your husband’s condition?”
“I’m afraid not. The doc didn’t have a whole lot to say. Seems they still need to fetch Jay’s records ‘fore they offer up any kind of news.” She looked back and forth between Sarah and me, her long blonde curls bouncing and swaying from side to side. “Is there anything you can share about Ryan at this juncture?” she asked, a frown taking over her soft features.
I shook my ahead. “Not yet, but it would be beneficial for the three of us to have a conversation about your son. Would you be willing to answer some questions for us?”
“By all means.”
“Let’s go to the waiting area.” The three of us began walking when a woman’s voice called out.
“Mrs. Iacona? Do you have a moment?” We turned to see a nurse waving from the room.
“Certainly,” she said and turned to us. “Please excuse me.”
“We’ll go ahead to the waiting area,” Sarah said, “and you can meet us there when you’re ready.”
“Does she seem young to you?” I asked as we walked down the hall.
“My guess would be early forties,” Sarah said, “and I’d be willing to bet Jay is probably closing in on fifty.”
“Huh. Safe to say you’re better at figuring out someone’s age than I am.”
“I’m thinking she probably doesn’t hold down a full-time job,” Sarah said. “My guess is she doesn’t work at all. And her clothes—not exactly the bargain store variety. Odds are she has the time and the means to take very good care of herself.”
“Yeah, well, her husband is a banker, so I doubt they’re hurting financially,” I said.
Sarah was about to say something when we heard Mrs. Iacona call out behind us, “Good news!” We stopped and turned to see her hurrying after us. “The doc seems to think my Jay’s episode was nothing more than a mild panic attack. The nurse said they intend to release him shortly.”
“Does he have a history with that sort of thing?” Sarah asked.
“No. Not at all,” she said, “however, given the circumstances, I reckon it’s to be expected. I know I’ve had to catch my breath a few times over the past twenty-four hours. I swear, I’m more than a litt
le concerned I may just end up in the bed right next to him.”
Sarah took Mrs. Iacona’s hand and rubbed it as the woman began hyperventilating. “Please, come have a seat,” Sarah said.
I waited for them to sit before taking my place across from them. I reached in my back pocket and pulled out my notebook.
Sarah gave the woman a warm smile. “Mrs. Iacona, I—”
“I’d love it if you’d call me Nelda,” she said.
Sarah nodded. “Nelda, talk to us, if you would, about Ryan. Anything and everything you feel might be useful in helping us determine his whereabouts.”
“Well, he’s always been a delight to me,” she said and then hung her head. She began fanning her face with her hand. “I made myself a promise not to break down in front of y’all.” She took several slow, measured breaths before continuing. “It pains me to say it … but Ryan and Jay have had a challenging relationship since early on. Don’t get me wrong. Jay is a good father. He’s just very career oriented. Always has been. In looking back, I’m not so sure becoming a father was the best decision for Jay, but I wouldn’t trade having my Ryan in our lives for anything in the world.”
“That’s sweet,” Sarah said. “I have an only son, too. And I feel the same.”
“Oh, how nice, Sarah. It’s a comfort to have an ally who understands,” she said.
“Can you talk a little more about Jay’s relationship with Ryan?” I asked after jotting down a few key details.
“Honestly, if I were to sum it up in a word, it would be strained. Jay provides for our family in a remarkable fashion. And he knows how and when to discipline Ryan.” She grew quiet, then continued. “If I could change one aspect of our day to day, it would be to make my husband more emotionally available. To me and to our son.”
“Does Ryan show outward resentment toward his father?” Sarah asked.
“Oh, my stars, no. He wouldn’t dare.” A strange look came over her face, and she quickly added, “Ryan’s very respectful toward adults, in general.”
I glanced at Sarah. Her lips were drawn tight. I knew from experience what that meant. She wanted to say something, but was holding back.
“Your husband told me Ryan has a part-time job, working during the summer and on weekends,” I said. “Said he’s been at it a little over a year now. I forgot to ask him where.”
“Oh, he has a wonderful job, all right. He works at Cooper’s Beach Club Casino, just over the border in Massachusetts. He absolutely loves it there. They have him doin’ all manner of different tasks. Helpin’ out in the snack bar, stockin’ coolers, takin’ tickets durin’ musical performances. I swear that boy would live at the casino if we let him,” she said, her smile appearing strained.
I pursed my lips, wondering how much longer she’d be able to hold it together. The tough questions were still unasked. “Nelda, have you noticed any changes in your son’s behavior lately? Mood swings, habits, different friends? The reason I’m asking is because sometimes patterns emerge that might lead us in a specific direction.”
“Well … he seemed more independent as soon as he got his driver’s license. But I have to believe that’s somewhat normal behavior for a teenager. Otherwise, no. Nothin’ I can think of.”
“Jay told me he left for work yesterday morning, using your family’s second car. Is that the last time you saw, or spoke to, Ryan?”
She answered via a simple nod, appearing to be on the verge of tears. I noticed Sarah looking past me, over my shoulder.
“Mrs. Iacona?” I heard a man’s voice inquire. I turned to see a doctor approaching. “Your husband asked that I come find you. He’d like to see you now.”
“Is that all right?” she asked us, patting away a stray tear with her fingertips.
“By all means,” I answered. “We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“Much obliged for your help. Please feel free to come to our home in the morning. Just give a call when you’re on your way over. Any time’s fine. We’ll be up early, I can assure you. It was such a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said as the doctor led her away.
“I can’t believe how well she was able to keep a brave face through all of that,” Sarah said as we began walking toward the stairs.
“I’ve always heard that’s the southern way,” I replied.
I followed Sarah down and out of the building, not a word exchanged between us until we climbed in the car. I stuck the key in the ignition, but held off on starting the engine. “Guess we should give the PD a call first thing in the morning.”
“Think Detective James got the Iacona case assigned to him?” Sarah asked.
“More than likely. Not sure why he would have called us about Mrs. Iacona otherwise. I was about to confirm it with him when Mrs. Iacona’s call interrupted our conversation, but chances are fifty-fifty he’s on the case. According to the newspaper, Bridgeport is down to two detectives. Budget cuts,” I said.
“Oy. Bet he’s not too pleased about that,” Sarah said. “James seemed overburdened when Bridgeport had four detectives on the force.”
“Could be a good thing for us. The department may see fit to allow us more latitude with our investigations.”
My comment caused Sarah to laugh. “You think? I don’t know how much more latitude they can give us. Half the time I feel like we work for them, as much as they work for us.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a point there,” I said as I started the engine. “Guess we’ll find out more tomorrow.”
Chapter 5
The sound of my phone going off woke me from a bizarre dream, the ringtone telling me Detective James was on the other end. Sarah plopped the book she was reading down on my chest. “Morning, Detective,” she answered. “You saved us a call.” She switched my cell over to speaker and placed it on the bed between us.
“I figured as much,” James replied. “Wanted to let you know we found Ryan Iacona’s car in the public parking lot behind the Club Casino, down in Cooper’s Beach, Massachusetts. Guess the kid works there.”
“Yep. His mother told us that last night,” I said.
“Oh, hey, Carter. Didn’t know I got a twofer with this call,” James replied.
“Must be your lucky day.”
Sarah smiled. “I take it you’re on the case. Dig up anything we might find useful to help locate Ryan Iacona?”
“Not yet. I’m on my way to Cooper’s Beach right now. Meeting the club’s manager at eight-thirty,” he said. “Happy to touch base with you two once I’m done.”
“Sounds good,” Sarah said. “Talk to you later.”
“He’s going to have his hands full with all that holiday weekend traffic at the beach,” I said.
“Uh-huh. But he’s working,” Sarah said. “If it gets too bad he can always flip on the blues.”
I shook my head. “You’re a bad egg. People should be glad you’re not a cop.” The comment earned me a dirty look as Sarah hopped out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts.
“Too bad. You were going to be the recipient of a nice home-cooked breakfast prior to that remark,” she said, her voice fading as she walked down the hallway.
I hoped she was only kidding where breakfast was concerned. I was famished. I rubbed my tired eyes and shimmied up to a sitting position against the headboard. It was a new day. Time to get my head in the game concerning our investigation.
I began thinking about Nelda Iacona’s comments, wondering if her words, combined with Sarah’s intuition, were reason enough to take a much harder look at Jay Iacona. It would be pretty easy, considering Sarah had appropriated his laptop, but I was a little reluctant to go poking around in his computer files.
It would be interesting to get James’s take. If he liked Iacona for the crime, it would go a long way in swaying my own thinking. But for now, I was on the fence.
I climbed out of bed, threw on my jeans and T-shirt, and headed for the john. I let my mind drift back to the video surveillance recording we’d watched prior to Ia
cona suffering his panic attack. How do you fake a reaction like that?
I finished my business and headed downstairs to find Sarah seated at the dining room table, working the screen of her tablet. Guess she wasn’t kidding about blowing off breakfast.
At least she’d made coffee. I poured myself a cup then took a seat at the table. “Hard at work so soon?” I asked.
“Just trying to see what I can find on Jay Iacona,” she replied.
Sarah seemed to be on a mission, so I pulled my notebook out and reviewed the notes I’d jotted down. I began thinking about the details of the crime. It had been a brazen act to demand a bank’s physical cash and a huge transfer of funds. In all my years I’d never heard of such a crime being attempted. What made the act even more remarkable was the fact that it looked as though the perp—or perps—had actually pulled it off. I heard Sarah speak, skewing my thoughts.
“What’s that?” I asked, not catching what she’d said
“I said … Jay Iacona went to Wharton. According to a bunch of different websites I checked, Wharton is ranked number four on multiple ten-best lists of business schools in the nation.”
“That couldn’t have been a cheap education,” I replied. “Wonder if his parents had money, or if they’re still in debt?”
“Maybe he put himself through school,” Sarah said. “People have been known to do that, you know. According to what I’m finding, Jay was very ambitious, especially with his extra-curricular activities. He was involved in rowing, theatre, and five different clubs related to finance. And … it looks like he was a real hit with the babes, too,” she said with a smile.
“Do you suppose he met Nelda there?” I asked.
“I’m not seeing her in any photos from his college days,” Sarah said. “Not that her absence means much. Should I grab his computer? Maybe see what else we can find out about him?”
“I don’t know. I’m not feeling too eager to open up Pandora’s Box just yet,” I said.
“Well, if we don’t plug his computer in soon, it’s going to run out of juice. I never turned it off. I figured we should leave it on so we wouldn’t get locked out, being we don’t know his password. What do you want me to do?”