He jumped up. “I’ll get them.”
When he left the room, Sean whispered, “You think Cat had something to do with Kira’s disappearance?”
“I don’t like the timing,” I whispered.
“Me either.”
Ross came back, carrying a pillow, a shirt, and two sweaters. “I don’t get it,” he said. “If you can find things, why can’t you find the little boy?”
“Just things,” I said.
“Like the set of car keys Cat lost in December at the Christmas party?” he asked, a hint of a smile on his face. “We couldn’t find them anywhere, and you’d think they’d be easy to find with the big yellow smiley face key fob, but no. I wish you’d been around then. It was an expensive taxi ride home.”
I knew all about expensive taxi rides. “Yes, like that. If Cat were here, I could find the keys. We do have a lead on the little boy, though, through an item that belonged to him. We’re waiting for its arrival.”
“Incredible,” he said, holding out the items he’d selected. “I know a lot of people, including Cat and I, want to know what really happened. It’ll be nice to have some closure. Selfishly, I look forward to the day Cat and I can go back to living normally. First, I need to find her.”
I took the bundle and hopped back to the couch as he sat back down, watching me closely.
I inhaled, exhaled, and tried to calm my jumping nerves. Closing my eyes, I brought the pillow up to my face and breathed deeply. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I saw nothing at all. I grabbed the shirt, repeating the process. Again, I saw nothing. The same happened with the sweaters.
“What?” Ross asked, leaning forward, hope etched in his features.
I glanced at Sean and said, “I don’t see anything at all.”
Ross jumped to his feet. “What’s that mean?”
“Could be she’s sleeping,” Sean said quickly.
Right. I didn’t want to voice the other option: That I couldn’t see anything through Cat’s eyes because she was dead.
16
A couple of hours later, I decided “home sweet home” was a fallacy.
Home crazy home, maybe.
It was a nuthouse around this place. Mum stood at the stove, making beef stroganoff for supper that smelled wonderful but had every pot and pan I owned either on the stovetop or the counter. A fresh batch of cookies had been plated and another cookie sheet was in the oven.
My mother stress cooked.
“Dovie’s called my cell phone three times today,” Mum said. “I think she knows something’s going on. Do you think Mac tipped her off?”
So much for Cutter killing her phone. “No. I think she has an internal warning system for deception.” It was uncanny, really. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing! I didn’t answer.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “You know I have trouble lying.”
I definitely did not get my fibbing skills from her. “She’s probably wondering what’s going on because you’re not answering your phone.” The two were partners in crime—sometimes literally. They often talked several times a day.
My mother transferred cookies from a baking sheet to a cooling rack. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Well,” I said, “you’ve been busy. Baking, babysitting, building me a new house, and avoiding Dad. Why are you avoiding Dad?”
Popping a cookie in her mouth, she spoke around it. “He’s a pain in my ass.”
I threw a look at Ava, hoping she hadn’t heard that, but she was busy playing with the farm animals that came with a Fisher-Price Little People farm. She was mooing to her heart’s content. “Does this mean you two are separated again?”
I’d been expecting this day for a few months now. My parents’ relationship had been off more than on, and this particular stretch had been on for longer than I ever imagined.
“No,” she said, making a face at me. “It just means I don’t want to look at him today. Tonight will be soon enough. I’m sure he appreciates the break from me as well.”
Smiling, I shook my head. Only my parents.
My phone rang, and I reached over and grabbed it off the dining room table. It was Marisol. “Where are you?” I asked at the noise in the background.
“At a bar in Stockbridge.”
“What are you doing there?”
“I’m on a date.”
I drew my lip into my mouth.
“Don’t you dare give me the silent treatment, Lucy!”
I imagined her dark eyes narrowing and her hands gesturing. “I’m not.”
“Look, I tried a date with Mr. Mysterious and it’s just not going to work out,” she said.
“Why not?”
“I like guys who actually talk. Tell me about themselves. Where they grew up. Not guys who clam up. He’s a clammer. Oh, he’s sexy, I’ll give you that. Those eyes? I could die. But no. It’s not going to work.”
Suddenly, I smiled. She was trying way too hard to convince me. “Maybe he’s an oyster.”
“A what?”
“An oyster,” I repeated, making Ava’s toy horse leap over her legs. “If you’re patient enough, you get a pearl.”
“What a load of shit.”
I laughed, which made Ava laugh.
“What was that?” Marisol asked, instantly suspicious.
“A baby.”
“Whose? Did Dovie buy you one from the black market?”
In any other circumstance it would have made me laugh, but the joke hit a little too close to home. “Long story.”
“Related to the dog you tried to ditch with me?”
“Ditch is so harsh,” I said. “He needed a place to stay. Which reminds me…why isn’t he staying with you?”
“Clinic’s closed for painting this week. If you still have him next Monday, bring him by.”
“How long are you in Stockbridge?” I asked.
“Not much longer. The date sucks.”
“A clammer?”
“A groper,” she said dryly.
“Fun.”
“Sometimes,” she said, then said her goodbyes and hung up.
“Looks like we have the dog for another week at least,” I said to Sean.
He looked over the back of the couch. “What’s one more?”
Mum said, “You shouldn’t be putting questions like that into the universe.”
He frowned.
I wiped chocolate from the corners of Ava’s mouth, and she grinned at me. “Scow!” she cried, thumping the dog’s back with her tiny fist.
Scout didn’t seem to mind as he lifted his eyebrows, gave her a side glance, then went back to pretending to snooze. It made me wonder what he was thinking… Then I realized I knew who could tell me. Also, if Scout had seen or heard anything unusual Thursday night, he’d be able to tell Jeremy. I made the call and left a message on his machine.
I set my phone aside and hoped he wasn’t avoiding me. I needed his help.
Reaching over, I rubbed Scout’s head. According to Mum, he hadn’t left Ava’s side all day, including when she napped. He slept under the crib.
Ebbie kept hissing at the newcomer every time she strutted by, and Grendel kept sniffing his dog bowl as though hoping it would be miraculously filled, and Thoreau was busily investigating Scout’s basket of toys. He barked intermittently at the unfamiliar balls and bones.
Welcome to the family.
Sean hadn’t napped—he was stubborn—but at least he was lying down on the sofa, his laptop propped on his belly. A quick search yielded the information that Corey McDaniel had been released from prison on parole three weeks ago, as Jarvis’s mother had said. Had Kira known? Spoken with him? I hated not knowing how he was involved in all this. He couldn’t have possibly had anything to do with Dustin’s disappearance—he’d been in prison. Unless he’d somehow orchestrated it from behind bars…but why would he?
I sighed. Too many suppositions and not enough answers. Unfortunately it seemed as though t
he people with answers kept disappearing.
The state police had impounded Cat’s car. On first glance, nothing hinted at anything amiss. But her purse and phone had been found under the driver’s seat along with a wallet stuffed with cash, which didn’t make sense if she was on the run. So where was she? And why couldn’t I see out of her eyes?
Fortunately, Ross Bennett had allowed me to take one of Cat’s sweaters home, and I’d sniffed that thing a hundred times already with the same result. I saw nothing.
I picked up the Little People sheep and baaaed as I had it gallop into the barnyard Ava had set up. She smiled and reached for it, giving me the horse instead.
I still hadn’t had any luck getting in touch with Nya Rodriguez, but I had managed to contact Tova Dovell Fisher. We were meeting tomorrow morning. I couldn’t yet rule out that she was using the CFC scandal as a cover-up for getting rid of her husband’s new lover. It would be pretty ingenious, actually.
Scout’s head suddenly came up. A growl rose in his throat. Leaping to his feet, he dashed to the door, barking like mad. Thoreau joined in the barking, even though I was pretty sure he had no idea why he was doing it.
A second later, a sharp knock sounded.
“I got it.” Sean set his laptop on the coffee table and was at the door in two long strides. He grabbed Scout’s collar to hold him back.
I leaned back so I could see who had arrived as the door opened.
“Found him coming up the driveway. He says he’s here to see Ms. Valentine,” one of the security ninjas said loudly, motioning to the young black man who stood on my welcome mat, his eyes the size of Rhode Island as another of the guards gripped the back of his striped T-shirt to keep him from running off.
Scout and Thoreau quieted as I slowly stood up, wincing at my protesting muscles, and grabbed one of my crutches. At the door I studied the teen, who looked afraid to blink. He looked oddly familiar with his gold-flecked eyes… I took a guess. “Are you Jarvis?”
He nodded quickly, like a bobblehead. With long arms and legs and a short torso, he hadn’t quite grown into his height yet. Give him a year or two, and I bet he’d shoot to six feet from his current five foot five-ish.
“You have your mother’s eyes,” I said. To the security ninjas, I said, “He can come in.”
Jarvis slumped in relief as he was released.
My mother elbowed her way to the doorway and said to the security team, “Are you boys hungry? I’m making beef stroganoff. There’s plenty. And I have more cookies.”
They looked at each other, huddled up, and traded whispers. Finally one said, “Can we get it to go?”
“Sure thing,” Mum said. “Give me a minute to get it together.”
“Thanks. Just leave it on the porch,” he said. “We’ll come back for it.” With that, they turned and walked off.
“I’m Lucy.” I made quick introductions of everyone and motioned for Jarvis to come inside. “Have a seat.”
Tugging up loose jean shorts, he stumbled in, still not blinking. Sitting in an armchair, he glanced around, finally relaxing a bit. Sean let go of Scout, who raced over to Jarvis and sniffed.
He reached out to pet the dog. “Does he bite?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sitting on the couch. “He’s new.”
His eyes went wide again, and he pulled his hand back.
“Baaa!” Ava shouted, rising to her feet and rushing over to show Jarvis her sheep. “Baaa!”
Thoreau hopped right up next to Jarvis as my mother shoved a plate of cookies in his face. “Are you hungry, young man? Here have some cookies,” she said without waiting for an answer.
He took the plate, said, “Uh, thanks” and stared down at Thoreau and then at me.
Welcome to the nuthouse, I wanted to say, but instead, I said. “How’d you get here?”
Thoreau sniffed his sternum as he said, “Bus.”
“How’d you know where Lucy lived?” Sean asked as he sat next to me.
“Google.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out the business card I had given his mother earlier. “You can find anything on Google.”
Apparently.
“I thought she’d live in the big place up the hill. Is this really where you live?” he asked, looking around.
“Yes,” I said defensively. “Why?”
“I read that you were rich. This here house is a shack. No offense, it’s small.”
“Told you so,” my mother sang.
Jarvis continued, “I think my house is bigger than this place. We at least got two bedrooms.”
My mother chuckled.
“I like it,” I said. “That’s why I live here.”
He shrugged and looked at me like I was all kinds of crazy. “Okay.”
Ava dropped the sheep in his lap and darted back to the farm yard to grab the toy cow. She brought that over and held her palm out to show off her treasure.
“Moo?” he said as though asking her a question.
“Moo!” she squealed, bouncing up and down. She took the cow and repossessed the sheep and went back to her spot on the floor. Scout followed her.
“Why come all the way out here and not just call?” Sean asked. “The number’s on the card.”
“Something to do?” Jarvis shrugged and bit into a cookie. Thoreau laid down next to him, resting his head on Jarvis’s leg.
“Good?” Mum asked him from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he said, wiping crumbs.
“Need some milk?” she asked.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Jarvis was going to move in at this rate. I said, “Were you home earlier when we spoke with your mom?”
“Yeah. She hadn’t known I’d talked with that reporter. She’s mad I did.”
“Why?” I asked.
Jarvis lifted dark eyebrows. “When you live in my neighborhood, sometimes talking gets you hurt. Don’t talk, mind your own business, and people mostly leave you alone.” He stuck another cookie in his mouth.
Mostly. I let out a breath.
“But you talked with Ms. Fitzpatrick,” Sean said. “Why?”
“The anonymous tip money. My mom lost her job as a secretary at an insurance company last month. She hasn’t found another one yet. Money’s tight.”
My mother tsked as she set a glass of milk on a coaster. “That’s terrible.”
“I can’t get a real job until I’m fourteen,” Jarvis explained. “I babysit sometimes, but it’s not a lot of cash. People can’t afford much.” He shrugged and set his empty cookie plate on the coffee table. “The money that reporter offered was too much to pass up.”
“How much did she offer?” I asked.
“Two hundred dollars. That’s a month of groceries if we stretch it out.” He sipped the milk then backhanded his upper lip to wipe away the residue. “I felt kind of bad about not telling anyone what I saw anyway.”
Grendel abandoned Scout’s food bowl and hopped up on the coffee table to sniff the cookie remnants.
“Is that a cat?” he asked, his eyes squinting as though he was seeing things.
“Yes,” I said.
“He’s huge. You feeding him cookies, too?”
“Sometimes,” I answered, not explaining about the breed.
“What did you tell the reporter?” Sean asked, trying to redirect the conversation.
Jarvis tore his gaze from Grendel and dipped his head. He looked over at us from lowered lashes. “I don’t suppose you all are offering a reward, too?”
Aha. The real reason he’d come here instead of calling.
“No,” Sean said, not playing his game.
“Sure.” Mum pulled her wallet from her purse.
“Judie,” Sean warned.
“Shush,” she said, tucking several crisp bills into Jarvis’s hand. “I was going to give it to him anyway.”
Sean slowly shook his head, but I smiled. My mother was a giver—and I loved her for it. To be honest, I’d planned to send Jarvis off with a little somet
hing, too. I had the feeling he’d come knowing he could probably play to our sympathies, but I fully believed that if you had, you should give… That and I was a complete sucker.
“Thank you,” Jarvis said, “but this is too much.” He tried to give some back.
“Nonsense,” Mum said, taking three plastic containers of food, forks, and napkins out to the porch.
“What’d you see?” Sean asked Jarvis again as he pocketed the money.
“It was January third,” Jarvis said. “I remember exactly because it was the first day back to school after Christmas break. I was up early to help my mom deliver newspapers.”
“I thought she worked at an insurance company?” Sean asked.
“The paper thing was her second job,” Jarvis said. “She had to quit it in March because our car broke and we didn’t have money to fix it.”
It was probably good my mother hadn’t heard that or he’d be taking a new car home with him, too.
After another sip of milk, he said, “We’d just gotten back from driving the route—it was about five in the morning. My bedroom looks out at the street, and I saw the blue car with that stupid ball thing on its antenna pull in. I recognized it because I’d seen it before. I thought it was strange because it was early for a visit, but I thought it might be some kind of surprise visit. Lady got out of the car and knocked on the door to the apartment. She went inside, and I got ready for school.”
“But?” I asked, because I felt there was something he still hadn’t said.
“I happened to see her when she came out again.” He wiped his palms on his shorts. “She wasn’t alone.”
“What do you mean?” Sean asked. “Who was with her?”
Jarvis looked up, his eyes filled with uneasiness. “She had the kid with her.”
17
“Okay, you mosey on up to the nurses’ station and distract them with your charm,” I instructed Sean as we stood in the hospital’s stairwell. We were mere steps away from Aiden’s room. Only a thick door, a short hallway, and six nurses who buzzed busily around a horseshoe-shaped desk stood in our way.
Catching his reflection in the door’s glass, he said, “I should have left the hat at home.”
“Just smile a lot. Your dimples trump the hat. Now stop teasing and go.”
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