Jay shook his head. “That’s just it. Sean doesn’t respond to words like other children. That’s why educators recommend the use of pictures and sign language. Chuck knows not to blast Sean with more than one direction at a time. There has to be more—” He slapped his thigh and bounded off the sofa. “I have an idea. Let’s check Sean’s picture cards. There’s one for every command Chuck gave him. Except the red sweater.”
Rising from the sofa with the paper in hand, Lela motioned Manny to follow them.
“I can’t.” Manny tucked his phone into his pocket. “Now that you’re here, Bowen expects me back at the office. Pam’s doing a perimeter sweep. She’ll stay.” Halfway to the door, he stopped. “Almost forgot.” He pulled a gun from his back waistband and handed it to Lela.
“Thanks.” She settled the weapon in her holster. “Please take the beer cans, cigarette butts, and the other evidence I collected from the ranch house with you. Everything’s in my truck bed toolbox.”
“Will do. Nice to meet you, Jay. I’ll check with Beth before I leave. Adiós, chica.” Manny planted a peck on Lela’s cheek and left the office.
Muscles tightened in Jay’s chest as Manny swaggered away. Could his familiarity with Lela be more than co-worker to co-worker? Her tap on the shoulder brought his attention back to Chuck’s message.
“Where can we find Sean’s pictures?”
Jay led Lela through the house to a wide staircase and then climbed the stairs two at a time. She kept up with him.
The blue box containing his picture cards rested on the dresser in Sean’s bedoom. “Here they are. Olivia will have today’s selection in his wallet.”
He pulled out one of the cards. “We point to a card and say the corresponding command. That helps Sean pair the action with the word and keeps him on track. Obviously, we don’t have cards for every situation. That’s when we use signs.”
Lela ran her finger under the typed message. “Which pictures do we need?”
Dumping the cards on the bed, Jay sat and sorted through them. “There’s nothing about a red sweater. I think we can disregard that clue for now, but it might have significance somewhere else.” He checked the message again. “Locate cards for sleep, brush teeth, no hitting, and put on clothes.”
He and Lela hunted for the specified cards and set them aside. Jay scooted the remaining deck out of the way. The four chosen pictures, all in black and white, stood out on the yellow spread.
“What do they have in common?” Jay lined them up, switched the order, and drummed his fingers on the box.
“Teeth, hitting, clothes, sleep. I have no idea.” Lela picked up the card for sleep and turned it over. “There’s a numeral on the back. What does it mean?”
“I don’t know. Let’s turn them all over.” Jay flipped the cards. All had penciled numerals on the back.
Sean ran into the room with Olivia following close behind.
“Jay-Jay.” Sean bounded onto Jay’s lap.
Olivia huffing audibly, caught the door before it slammed against the wall.
“Hi, buddy.” Jay nestled the little boy in the curve of his arm and rubbed his back. Glancing up, he said, “Afternoon, Olivia. Do you know why these cards have numerals on the back?”
The tall, slender brunette nodded. “They indicate the order in which they were taught to Sean.” She opened the closet and removed a baseball cap. “We’re going outside.” Showing Sean a picture from the wallet, she gave him the cap, which he pulled over his ears.
“Is that wise?” Jay’s words caught in his throat.
“We’ll stay close to the house.” Olivia sent him a sympathetic smile. “Sean needs a physical outlet, and I won’t let anything happen to him.”
The kid slipped off Jay’s lap and waved. “Bye-bye, Jay-Jay.” He held Olivia’s hand, stomped out the door and down the stairs with a squeal that rivaled the house alarm.
Jay’s heart swelled. If only he could keep his nephew safe in his arms forever.
“Do these numbers have any significance?” Lela tapped one of the cards, bringing him back to the task.
With a sigh, Jay read the numerals, “Four, six, one, nine. Could be the last four digits of a phone number.”
“But why would Chuck give it to Sean?”
“Right. He doesn’t know how to use a phone.”
“By giving a specific message to Sean, I’m convinced Chuck wanted someone to examine his picture cards.” Lela tapped the cards and frowned. “The clue has to be in these numbers.”
Jay made numerous combinations of the four numerals, none of which made any sense to him. “Wait. Let’s line them up in the order Chuck gave them. Clothes. Brush teeth. No hitting. Sleep.”
After lining up the cards, Lela turned them over.
Jabbing at the bedspread, Jay let out a whoop. “I’ve got it. Sixteen, forty-nine. That’s the address of Chuck’s office building. One-six-four-nine Columbia Street.” He gathered the cards back in the box and gestured to Lela. “Come on. Please God, let there be a clue to a red sweater in Chuck’s office.”
15
Could it be that easy? The address to Chuck’s office building hidden in the message to his son. Why not? Lela had seen stranger clues provide positive results. Dialing her co-worker’s cell number, she entered the sun room. “Hey, Pam, we’re going to Chuck’s downtown office. Can you return to the house?”
“Yeah. All’s quiet out here. I’ll be right in as soon as I inform Olivia. She might want to bring Sean inside.”
Lela ended the call and balanced on the edge of a wicker armchair near Beth, who rested on the chaise longue. She appeared pale and listless. “The picture clues Chuck provided led us to his office address, but what do you know about Sean’s red sweater? Why would Chuck mention it specifically?”
Beth wrinkled her brows, and interest sparked in her eyes. “That’s puzzling because Sean hates red. He refuses to wear it. He won’t play with red toys or eat tomatoes. Not even spaghetti sauce.”
“Has he ever had a red sweater?” Jay asked as he entered the room.
“Yes. One Christmas, Mother gave the children matching sets of sweaters, gloves, and scarves.” She twisted her braid. “A strange gift for kids in Southern California, but she’d recently learned how to knit. It was,” she counted on her fingers, “two years ago.”
“I don’t remember those gifts.” Jay sat next to his sister. “Must have been while I was surveying for that project in the Appalachians.”
“The girls wore their sets three, four times max, but Sean only kept the sweater on long enough for me to take a family photo.”
“Where’s the picture now?” Lela asked.
Beth shrugged. “Uh, I’m not sure.”
“I don’t suppose you have the sweater?”
“No.” She snuggled next to Jay, her thin frame shrinking in comparison to his bulk. “All those sweaters were donated to the church’s orphan relief program. The kids clean out their closets twice a year.”
Lela envied their interaction. How nice for Beth to have such a supportive brother. “The sweater clue won’t help us here. We’ll check Chuck’s office.”
“Yvette Burgess, Chuck’s secretary, might have left for the day. Take his set of keys. I left them on the desk.”
“I have them.” Jay patted his jeans pocket and rose. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
Succumbing to the effects of such a long day, Lela yawned and stood. She covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
“You must be exhausted,” Beth said. “Come back here after you visit Chuck’s office. We always have extra food, and I’ll ask Rachel to prepare one of the spare rooms for you.”
“Thanks.” Lela headed toward the door. “I’m scheduled to be on duty tonight since Pam has to leave.”
“I’ll stay, too, Beth.” His voice full of concern, Jay placed a hand on her shoulder.
Her lips quivered. Then she shook the hair from her face. “Of course. You have the front door key, r
ight?’
Jay nodded and gave her a hug.
The sunroom door opened and Pam entered. Removing sunglasses, she beamed at the occupants, her bronze skin highlighted by her over-sized, salmon-pink shirt. “Hi, Lela. It’s been a long time.” She waved and then extended her hand. “And you must be Jay.”
After the greeting, she draped herself in the armchair. “I’ll sit right here where I can watch Olivia and Sean outside. Safe travels.” She saluted Lela and Jay then beckoned Beth. “Come, Beth, let’s gossip about them while they’re gone.” The twinkle in her dark eyes let them all in on her joke.
Beth’s smile was worth the little intrigue.
Once on I-5 heading south, Lela asked, “How long has Yvette worked for Chuck?”
“She’s been with him since he opened his financial planning company eleven years ago.”
“I read IRO’s report on her. What’s your opinion?”
“Honest, hardworking. I can vouch for her. She has nothing to do with the kidnapping. Chuck’s a generous employer, and Yvette is like a grandmother to the kids.”
Navigating through late afternoon traffic, Lela prodded her right temple where a headache incubated. She needed a good meal. And sleep. “I haven’t been downtown in a long time. Is Columbia a north or south one-way street?”
“South. Take the Hawthorn exit. Then the second left will be Columbia.”
“All these one-way downtown streets drive me crazy.” Lela switched lanes and merged with the string of vehicles taking the Hawthorn Street exit.
Jay harrumphed in agreement. “Chuck’s building has a parking garage. Drive up to the fourth level.”
Despite the late hour, many vehicles occupied spaces. Lela parked in a center spot, slid out of her truck, and stretched. When had she slept last? “Lead the way, Jay.”
“The elevators are through there.” He kneaded his neck muscles and then pointed ahead.
They entered double glass doors, and he punched the up button beside the trio of elevators. On the tenth floor they entered suite ten-twenty-one and stopped at Yvette’s desk in Chuck’s outer office. A colorful screen saver danced across her computer.
“Yvette would never leave her computer on.” He indicated the swirling ribbons. “Here are Chuck’s keys. Go on in while I track her down.”
The keys jingled when Jay handed them to Lela. She unlocked the heavy oak door as he moseyed down the hall.
A whiff of lemon-scented wood polish greeted her, transporting her back to Abuelita’s casa and contentment for a moment. She shook her head to dispel images of reading to her grandmother and studied her surroundings.
A picture on the wall hung at an angle, a half dozen magazines on the coffee table were splayed in a perfect arc, but others were in a jumbled mess. Papers were strewn across Chuck’s large desk but stacked neatly on his credenza. Had the office been searched? Voices in the outer office caught her attention.
Jay entered with a tall woman whose salt-and-pepper hair framed a face of smooth, Botoxed perfection. But the rejuvenation hadn’t made it to her appendages. Age spots the size of olives covered her hands. Dark veins lined her pole-thin legs.
Jay made the introductions and ushered Yvette to a magenta leather armchair.
Before she sat, Yvette surveyed the office then turned to Lela. “Have you already searched the place?”
“No, ma’am.” Confirmation. “I intended to ask you the same question.”
The secretary lowered herself into the chair, and a tiny crease appeared between her eyes. “Last time I was in here, everything was in tiptop order. Chuck would not be pleased with this mess.”
“Then someone’s been here before us,” Lela said. “When were you in here last, Mrs. Burgess?”
Jay squatted next to Yvette’s chair. “This is important.”
“I came in twice this week. Monday afternoon I needed a client’s file. After I found the information, I returned the file and locked the door. Then first thing this morning a Mr. Hernandez came by and asked a lot of questions. He had proof that he was from IRO, the company hired to find Chuck.”
“Yes, that would be Manny Hernandez, my colleague.” Lela nodded. “Please continue.”
“When I brought him into the office, I noticed nothing misplaced, and when he left, I made a point to straighten up. No one’s been in here since. At least no one I let in.”
Standing, Jay stroked his chin. “That means the office was searched in the past six to eight hours.”
“But—” Yvette clasped Jay’s hand.
“It’s all right, Yvette. It’s not your fault.”
“Can you tell if anything’s missing?” Lela picked up a legal pad from Chuck’s desk.
Yvette rose out of the chair as if the leather had suddenly heated up. “Don’t touch that. Let me check before you move things.”
One reprimand from the lean secretary was enough. Lela dropped the pad as if it bit her hand and used her cellphone to photograph the office from various positions. If Yvette discovered something amiss, the location might prove helpful to determine why the office was searched.
Yvette opened drawers, shuffled through papers, checked the trashcan. “I don’t think anything’s been taken. But then I don’t know what’s in every file of Chuck’s cabinet.” Hands tightly clasped, she hiked her shoulders. “Sorry, Jay. I…I’m shaken by the kidnapping. Are they asking for a lot of money?”
Lela gently placed a hand on the older woman’s back. She had little flesh covering her bones. “Thank you, Mrs. Burgess. You’ve been a great help. Jay and I need to search the office. You can go on home, and we’ll contact you if we have any more questions.”
At first Lela thought the scowl on Yvette’s face meant that she had offended her, but then the secretary’s lip quivered and tears pooled in her soft gray eyes. “I apologize for being harsh with you, Ms. Ortiz. I…I don’t like strangers in my boss’s office when he’s not here.” Her stiff face crumpled as she fought back sobs. “Dear me. Strangers…”
“Lela is right. You should go home and rest. We’ll lock up and take care of everything here.” Jay held her hand. “Would you like me to drive you home?”
She shook her head.
“No? OK, then I’ll walk you to your car.” His soothing voice would have calmed any frantic soul.
While Jay conversed with Yvette in the outer office, Lela began her search. Confident she wouldn’t find the actual red sweater, she searched for photographs. Chuck had a half dozen on the walls and three among the volumes on the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. Lela hunted for red clothing, but instead, found a beaming Chuck beside a red sports car in one picture and Alyssa wearing red shoes in another.
The soft leather chair at Chuck’s desk welcomed Lela with a quiet whoosh. For the briefest second, she relaxed in the luxury. But then she resumed the red sweater hunt. What significance could the garment possibly have?
On the glass-topped desk sat a container of fancy pens and a gold letter opener, a stapler, wooden in-and-out trays, a lamp, and a digital photo display.
“Aha. The picture has to be here.” Lela turned on the display and scrolled through the photos, searching for anything red. Another of Chuck’s sports car, a field of tulips in a park, and assorted packages around a Christmas tree. But no red sweater.
Lela turned off the display. “Where is it?” She opened the center drawer. Among the usual collection of paperclips, topless pens, and rubber bands in a metal organizer, she found a key.
It unlocked the left side drawer. Rifling through the hanging file folders, most of which were empty, Lela noted four held newspaper clippings, old correspondence dating back to the 1950s. Would Jay know why Chuck collected them?
She squished the files together. An eight by ten silver frame lay on the bottom of the drawer. As if it were buried treasure, she carefully picked it up, and turned it over. Chuck and Beth posed in straight-backed chairs, smiling Danielle and Erin stood behind their parents, Alyssa snuggled in Beth’s arms, an
d Sean sat rigid in Chuck’s lap.
The boy wore a scowl. And a red sweater.
16
A red sweater, at last.
Lela waved the framed photo as Jay entered the office. “I found it. A picture of Sean wearing a red sweater.”
“That must be it. Now what?” He picked up the frame and shook it.
No sound.
“Take out the picture. He might have written on the back.” She chewed the inside of her cheek.
Using the letter opener, Jay pried the clamps loose with care. The black velvet covering came away and revealed the back of the photograph with only the studio logo imprinted in the corner. “Nothing.”
“There has to be a clue here.” Lela picked up the velvet backing and turned it over. “Why would Chuck hide the picture unless—” A small object dropped to the floor. She wheeled the chair backward. “What’s that?”
Jay bent down to look and they bumped heads. “Ouch.” He straightened and rubbed his forehead. “We couldn’t have orchestrated that if we’d planned.”
Giggling at their mishap, Lela picked up the item wrapped in masking tape. “Smart move to tape this to the inside of the velvet backing.” She peeled up a corner of the tape.
“I’m assuming this is the only photo of a red sweater you found?” Jay leaned closer.
“Uh-huh.” She yanked at the resisting tape and a small piece of metal glinted. “It’s another key.” Eyeing the odd shaped item, Lela rocked in the chair. “What’s it for?”
Jay snatched it from Lela’s palm and turned it over. “A safe deposit box. I have one just like it.” He tapped the key on his chin. “The bank’s closed now. We’ll have to wait until morning. I hope Beth has signing powers for the box. She’ll have to accompany us to open it.”
“You know which bank?”
“I’m sure it’s the same bank I use. The key is exactly like mine, and Chuck has used First Standard for years.”
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