by Lisa G Riley
“I see,” was all Lily could think to say.
“You know,” Mrs. Benson said as she began stuffing the photographs back into the folder, “I wasn’t too sure that you were the right person to come to -- I mean, you being so new and all.” She gave Lily an apologetic glance.
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Mrs. Benson stood. “Well, I can see that even with your lack of experience, you do appear to be diligent, if nothing else. I have a friend who needs some work done and I told her I’d let her know how my experience with you turned out.”
Surprised and pleased, Lily smiled. “Really? Thank you.”
Mrs. Benson waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t thank me yet. She knew I was coming here today, but she’s still concerned about your inexperience. Her case is nothing like mine. Her husband is missing, and the police have been no help. They think he’s just left her.”
“Okay,” Lily said in a tone that encouraged her to continue.
“Well, as I was saying, my friend is worried about you being so new at this, so she’s decided to reach out to a more experienced detective. Don’t worry,” she said when Lily looked crestfallen. “She’s willing to talk to you based on my recommendation. This is her information,” she said and put a piece of paper on Lily’s desk. “It’s early yet, so wait about an hour and call her.”
“Thank you!” Lily said and picked up the paper.
“Don’t worry about it.” Mrs. Benson was walking toward the door.
“Uh, you’ll get my final bill later today,” Lily called after tearing her eyes away from the paper.
***
Lily stood in the library of the Robinson Mansion, still a little bit amazed that she was there. She’d done as Mrs. Benson had suggested and waited some time before calling her potential client. The Robinson mansion was located on the south side of town – the wealthiest area. The mansion itself was famous for having been built off the proceeds of bootlegged liquor during Prohibition. A poor boy from the streets of Chicago, Lyle Robinson had moved to Sheffield-Chatham and made his fortune. When it came to his home, he’d wanted big and he’d wanted fancy. The result was Robinson Mansion, the largest and most ostentatious home in three counties. He’d lost it all a few years later and the house had been empty for decades. It had been bought in the mid-sixties by a manufacturer and his family, but had gone empty again in the early nineties when the manufacturer took all of his business to Mexico.
The current residents, Mr. and Mrs. Landry were new to Sheffield-Chatham, having only arrived in early 2001. Not much was known about them except that they were from Chicago, and the husband was the son of a prominent Chicago family whose wealth had come from hotels. Lily knew that the rumor was that they’d chosen Sheffield-Chatham to retire to, which made her shake her head. She loved her town, but knew if she were rich; the last place she’d retire to would be one whose average temperature in winter was twenty-two degrees.
“I’d be in the South of France so fast,” she mumbled as she spun around slowly to look at the room. It was a small room with a few dozen books and a couple of small sofas. Judging from the dust, it wasn’t used all that often. She looked at her watch. Her appointment was supposed to have started ten minutes before. She frowned. “I hope she hasn’t changed her mind.” Her biggest fear was that Mrs. Landry had decided to go with the other detective after all.
She took a sip of the bottled water a maid had provided and sat on one of the sofas. “Guess I’ll find out eventually.”
Lily heard footsteps approaching and looked up. One of the most stunning women she’d ever seen entered the room. Of average height, the woman she assumed to be her client had almost perfectly aligned features. Her russet colored hair contrasted well with deep green eyes. She moved fluidly and unhurriedly into the room in an outfit that almost had Lily sighing aloud with envy. She recognized Escada, something she could never really justify purchasing. She’d recently salivated over the ruffled white blouse the woman wore. It retailed for a mere six hundred and fifty dollars.
“Good afternoon, young lady,” the woman said as she walked over with her hand stretched out. “I’m Mary Alice Landry.”
Lily stood. “Hello. I’m Lily Carstairs.”
“Yes, I know. Please,” Mrs. Landry indicated the sofa. “Sit back down.”
Lily did and watched as the woman sat across from her. “Mrs. Benson told me a bit about your case. Would you like to tell me more?”
Mrs. Landry lifted a brow in what looked like surprise, but said, “Just how much did she tell you?”
“She only said that your husband is missing and that you want to hire a private detective.”
“Yes, well, there’s quite a bit more to the story than that, and if you’ve got a few minutes, I’ll tell you the rest.”
“Of course. Do you mind if I record this conversation while I take notes?”
“I expect you to.”
“Good.” Lily reached into her purse and pulled out a small notebook and an even smaller recorder. She pressed a button on the recorder and set it on the table. “I’m ready.”
“My husband and I moved here from Chicago about ten years ago. We were sick of the rat race and we like Sheffield-Chatham. We’d each visited here as children on summer vacations and both of us had fond memories. Charles, that’s my husband, especially likes the small town feel. The Town Square is one of his favorite places because of all of the fun he had there as a child. He’s the vice president of operations for Landry Hospitality Midwest Division. Since we’ve been here, he averages about twenty hours a week working for LH. The rest of the time he spends with me or at the Businessman’s Social Club down on Klein. Do you know it?”
Lily nodded as she kept writing. The Businessman’s Social Club was an anachronism. She’d never been inside because she was, of course, a woman. Her father had joined when she was a child, but he said it was only for the networking. He was an accountant and said membership in the club was required for any sole proprietor who wanted to succeed in Sheffield-Chatham. But that had been more than twenty years ago. Things had long since changed, and Lily attributed the popularity of the club to the fact that men, just like women, liked to get away from everything sometimes, including their spouses. “My dad’s a member. He goes for the poker games and tournaments.”
“Charles likes the idea of being able to sit around and drink port and smoke cigars without anyone complaining. He also enjoys the male camaraderie and an occasional game of Euchre or Pinochle. He goes to that club every Wednesday and Friday without fail. And every Wednesday and Friday, without fail, he calls me to let me know he’s left the club and is on his way home. Well, this past Friday the phone didn’t ring. I have neither seen nor heard from my husband since last Friday at ten in the morning when he walked out of here for that club.”
Lily looked up from her writing. “I’m sor --” she began, but stopped when she saw the expression on Mrs. Landry’s face. She looked on the verge of tears. “Uh…do you think --”
“I’m just so upset about it; I don’t know what to do.” Mrs. Landry pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and covered her face with it.
Lily looked away, wanting to give her privacy. But when Mrs. Landry’ sniffles became louder, Lily at first looked around uncomfortably and unable to ignore the other woman’s pain any longer, reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Can I get someone for you?”
“No, no, dear. It’s all right.” Mrs. Landry wiped her face and looked over at Lily. “I’m fine, but sometimes my emotions get the best of me.”
“I understand,” Lily said. “Would you like to continue, or would you rather take a break? To be honest, I’d rather you continue because the sooner you do, the sooner I can get started.”
“So I take it you want the case?”
“Oh, yes. I already have a couple of ideas on getting started. Would you like to hear them?”
“Please,” Mrs. Landry said with a nod.
“Well, of course I�
��ll go to the club and see what I can find out there, but first I’d trace his route to and from the club in case he’d been in an accident. Did the police do that?”
Mrs. Landry scowled. “The police have been most unhelpful. They say that there isn’t much they can do since he’s an adult with all of his faculties.”
“But it’s been more than forty-eight hours, right? I mean, do you know if he actually made it to the club on Friday?”
Mrs. Landry was nodding before Lily finished. “Yes, when I didn’t hear from him Friday evening, I called. They told me he’d left at his usual time.”
Lily wrote that down. “What are the police saying, then?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. They discussed a possible kidnapping, but as there hasn’t been a ransom note of any kind, they’ve ruled that out. And there’s been no accident; they’ve checked that.”
“What else can you tell me, Mrs. Landry? Does he have any enemies that you know of, maybe in his business life?”
The other woman bit her lip in consternation. “Truthfully, my Charles isn’t a very good businessman. I’m afraid he’s just a trust fund baby whose family keeps him in the corporation to give him something to do. He’s more of a figurehead than anything else. His staff runs things there. And Charlie has no enemies, neither of us does.”
“Have you been in touch with anyone on his staff? Have they heard from him? What about his family?”
“Yes, I talked to Everett Thom, that’s Charles’ second-in-command. He’s not heard from him. I’m afraid they really don’t need to hear from him to run things smoothly. As for his family, there’s only Charles and his oldest brother, Simeon and a few cousins here and there. Simeon, now there’s a man who takes charge. He runs the entire company – worldwide.”
“Do he and Charles get along?”
“Oh, yes. Simeon is worried sick about him, too. In fact, Simeon is the one largely responsible for our lifestyle. We’d never be able to live like this if things were left up to Charles. As I said, he’s completely inept as a businessman. But he’s a wonderful, thoughtful caring man and he’s my husband. I want him back.”
“What do you think happened to him, Mrs. Landry?”
“That’s the problem,” she said and spread her hands helplessly in front of her, “I simply don’t know.”
Lily nodded in acceptance. “What about friends at the club? Will you give me the names of people I can talk to there?”
“Again, I just don’t know. I mean, he’d occasionally mention a name as an aside. You know, as in ‘Harry won every game today,’ or ‘Paul took a beating today at the card table.’ Those aren’t the names; I’m just pulling them out of the air. I don’t remember any of the names he mentioned because he so seldom did.”
Lily was shocked. “He’s been going to the club for ten years, correct?” When Mrs. Landry nodded, she continued, “Yet, you can’t tell me the names of any of his friends there?”
Tears filled the other woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, but his club was another world to me. It wasn’t like the club he belonged to back home in Chicago, The Elite. I know the men at that club because I’m friends with their wives. With the Businessman’s Social Club, it’s his world and we’re both fine with that. I don’t need to know about it, or meet any of the people he meets with there. After all, he only sees those people twice a week. The rest of the time he is with me.”
Lily felt more sympathy tug at her heart. Not only was her husband missing, but said husband had kept her in the dark about another life. Lily wondered if he’d been cheating on her. “This is difficult to ask, Mrs. Landry, but I feel I have to in order to be as thorough as possible. Do you think your husband was having an affair?”
“It’s all right. Yes, Charles has cheated on me before, but that was years ago, before we even moved here. It was a typical mid-life crisis issue. I found out about the affair; left him for a while and when he begged me to come back, I did, but only after we’d had counseling.”
“And there was no one here? You’re sure of it?”
“Yes. I learned to trust my Charlie again.”
“And what was the name of the woman in Chicago?”
“But, my dear, I told you that that affair was over ages ago. Why on earth do you need her name?”
For the simple reason that you don’t want me to give it to me. “As I said, Mrs. Landry, it’s important that I be thorough.”
Clearly reluctant, Mrs. Landry said, “All right; if you insist. You’ll have it before you leave. Are there anymore questions?”
Detecting the freeze, Lily resisted the urge to shiver. “Yes. Who are some of his friends in Chicago? Is he still in touch with people there?”
“Yes, of course. I can provide you with a list at the end of this meeting. But Charles’ friends are my friends, and I’ve already talked to them. No one has heard from Charles.”
Lily kept her head down because she just knew she looked skeptical. If his friends are your friends, then why don’t you know any of his friends at the club? “Would you mind telling me their names now?”
“No, I wouldn’t mind, but it would just be easier to give you the list because it’s got names and contact information on it. Have you anymore questions, dear?”
“No, ma’am. No more questions, no, but I’ll also need the account numbers for any credit cards he has, the make, color and year of his car and the license plate number if you have it. And I know you’ve probably tried it at least a hundred times, but I’ll need his cell phone number, too. And lastly, a current picture would help tremendously.”
Mrs. Landry’s eyes had widened during the recital. “You weren’t joking when you said you were thorough, were you? I can get you all of that if you’ll just give me a few minutes. I have a list of the credit card numbers, which I culled from old bills. I have a picture of him standing in front of the car. It’s practically brand new as we only got it over the Thanksgiving holiday. We took lots of pictures that day.”
“Great,” Lily said. I think that’s it for now, but if I think of anything else, I’ll definitely call you.”
“Wonderful. Now, shall we discuss your fee?”
Lily had spent part of that morning coming up with a new fee structure. Retainers would be good if she were to get on a company’s payroll, but when she did what she’d come to think of as one-off jobs, she thought it best to charge a daily fee. She’d decided her services were worth at least seventy-five dollars an hour. That brought her to five hundred and sixty dollars a day, which she rounded up to six hundred. “Six hundred a day, plus expenses, which I’ll tally and give to you at the end of each day, or week if you’d prefer. But let’s hope we don’t get to that stage. I’ll need the first two days up front, please,” she finished with a smile. Lily reached into her bag. “I’ve also brought a contract for you to sign,” she told Mrs. Landry as she pulled it out.
“That’s fine.”
Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Landry was walking Lily to the door. She’d given Lily the list of names, the direction she thought her husband usually took to and from his club, and a check for twelve hundred dollars, which Lily planned to take to her new client’s bank immediately after leaving.
Lily had made it all the way to the porch when Mrs. Landry dropped her final whammy on her.
“I’ll tell you like I told that other detective. If you find my Charlie before Christmas day, there’s a ten thousand dollar bonus in it for you.”
Lily whipped around. For a moment, she didn’t know which new shock to address first: the fact that she had competition on her case or the extra money. Finally, practicality won out. “Ten thousand dollars!” she cried as visions of a pair of leather drawstring knee-high flat boots she’d had her eye on danced in her head.
Chapter Eleven
Lily parked her car in front of the Businessman’s Social Club. She checked the time and blew out a breath. “It’s only two o’clock, and I feel like I’ve already put in a full day,�
� she murmured as she looked at herself in her mirror. She fluffed her hair out a bit and then decided to refresh her lipstick as well. She’d gone to the Landrys’ bank and had been pleased to find that Mrs. Landry could indeed cover the check she’d given her. Lilly planned to do a background check on their finances later. She hadn’t yet found the time.
After her trip to the bank, she’d called her mother and asked if it was okay to pop in on them for lunch. Her mother had made beef and vegetable stew, and when Lily had gotten there, everything, including hot rolls and a green salad was already on the table. Her mother had been happy to have her set another place for herself.
Following lunch, she’d partially retraced her steps to the Landrys’ to get back to the route Mr. Landry habitually took when going to the club. There was a stretch of the highway that paralleled a wooded area, so she’d gotten out of her car to check and see if there was a car in the foliage. She’d also checked for burned rubber marks, but had found nothing in both cases. She’d stopped at a Laundromat, an Italian restaurant and an adult bookstore, which were all on the route. Again, she’d come up with nothing. No one had seen Mr. Landry. It was as if he’d disappeared.
She knew she’d have to somehow track credit card usage and check the airport, train and bus stations. Though the closest airport was an hour and a half away, she thought it would also be smart to check the two in Chicago as well. The train and bus stations would be simpler because they were both small and in town, and she likely knew at least one or two people that worked at each place.
She also planned to pay a visit to her cousin John at the police station, just to make sure Mrs. Landry hadn’t missed anything in the telling. Just as she was set to leave her car, Lily’s cell phone rang. She checked the Caller ID. “Hi, Mom. Did you find anything out about the Landrys for me?”
“No, I haven’t. Clarice Rodriguez didn’t know anything except what we already know. But I have calls into Rowena Miles and Paula Carson. It’s likely that Rowena will know something.”