by Jill Behe
I could tell Jarrod was hearing his brother, but wasn’t really paying attention.
“I could lose my gallery over this.”
“Duh!” Abel backhanded the same arm William had just hit. “We could all go to jail for this.”
I watched the inter-play between them. They were truly in the dark, had been for quite a while, so it seemed. A woodchuck has a higher IQ than the three of them combined, if you ask me.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not calling them stupid, not really, just gullible, easily manipulated.
If I was a mean-spirited person, that would constitute … DUMMY, but….
“I vote we find out where she went, and haul ass back home.”
“We should just leave, and let her hang out to dry.”
Whoa. What?
CHAPTER 47
OBLIVIOUS
“EXCUSE ME. You don’t know where she is?”
Abel shrugged. “I went to talk to her, over at the inn where she was staying. Sunday night? Monday? Can’t remember, exactly. Jarrod, Will, and I had just got set up at the rental house. She and I took a ride over there, so she’d know where we were. Then I dropped her off back at the inn.
“She stopped by late the next day and said she was going to check out of the inn, that she’d be back after supper.”
“Maybe two hours later,” Jarrod cut in, “she called and said she wouldn’t be over until the next day, which would have been Thursday, I think. Haven’t seen or heard from her since. I’m sure you are aware that Abel tried to get into her room, but that was before she even came by the house. We thought maybe she was hiding from us. Wouldn’t have put it past her.”
“Any idea what she was doing in between when you dropped her off at the inn, and when she came by the house?”
William shifted in his chair. “She didn’t say; we didn’t ask. Should’ve, obviously. But we were more concerned with keeping Blake in sight than with what our sister was up to. Dumb. Blind idiotic stupidity.”
He said it, not me. “So she’s been ‘unaccounted for’ for several days, and that didn’t jar your radar at all?”
“It should have, you’re right. But we’ve never had daily contact with her before. Guess we figured she’d get there when she got there. Where…?” Jarrod paused, then shrugged and didn’t continue.
I needed to tread a little more gently with this next revelation. “We found her rental car, abandoned, heading out of town.”
“Well, hell.” Jarrod rubbed his face. “That can’t be good.”
“Where would she be? It’s not like we know anybody here.”
“What if she got picked up by a serial killer?”
“Get real, Abel.”
I eyed them. “She wouldn’t be staying somewhere else? With anyone else?”
“Why would she? Who would she stay with?” William shifted under my scrutiny. “Her room at the inn was paid for three days. And she said she was going to come stay with us.”
“I already told her that.”
“Shut up, Abe.”
“Do you have a picture of her?”
“No.”
Abel raised his hand, like he was in a classroom. “I’ve got that one of her and Blake, right after he was born. It’s back at the house.”
“Would you be willing to loan it to us? I’ll make a copy and give it right back.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll drop it off later today.”
“Thank you. But just so we have something to go on, would you describe her for me?” I’d get Bruce to verify whether the description fit the Sybil who’d talked to him.
“Jarrod, you’re the oldest, you answer that one.”
“Gee, thanks, Will. Syb’s short, about five-foot-three. Not sure how much she weighs, but she’s not very big. Her hair’s shoulder-length, kinda blondish-brown. Her eyes are brown, too.”
“Any distinguishing marks?”
“No. She smokes, chain smokes. Does that help?”
Not really, but…. “Every little bit helps.”
“She’s mean if you don’t agree with her.” William rubbed the back of his neck, like a phantom pain had struck. “She’ll manipulate any argument, until you see things her way.”
Well, that might not be all that pertinent, either, but I wrote it down. “Okay. Anything you want to add?”
“I think that’s about it.”
“This session is concluded with Jarrod Sorenson, William Brandt, Abel Blackwell, and Police Dispatcher Magdalena Mercer.” I hit STOP on the recorder.
Wyatt definitely needed to know about this latest development. “All right, gentlemen. Thanks for coming in. If you hear from your sister, please let us know.” I handed out an MCPD business card to each of them. “I’ll be giving my report to the chief of police. He may have more questions for you later.”
“Got nothing to hide.”
“Not anymore.”
Jarrod hesitated before standing. “I realize this may be a bad time to bring it up, but do you think we could arrange to see Blake? I mean, to actually get to talk to him? Or maybe you could talk to Wally and let him know we’re not going to … do anything. We really do care for Blake. If we could all get together—” He shook his head. “That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense. We’d like to meet Blake’s grandmother, too, if she’d be willing.”
I was starting to feel bad for them. Fleeced by their sister, they may have forfeited their rights as uncles. “I understand. I’ll see what I can do.”
“And we should probably ask them for help finding Sybil.” Abel stood. “Don’t you think? Hey, what if she’s stalking Blake right now and tries to grab him?”
Oh, surely not.
“I’m sure, if I know Wally, Blake is being well protected.” William got to his feet. “She’d have a hard time of it, if she tried to snatch him on her own. I doubt Blake would go with her willingly, either.”
Yeah. Knowing Annetta protected Blake like a mama grizzly, I had to agree with that, all of it.
Jarrod adjusted his scarf and buttoned his dress coat. “I guess then, we should wait on the possible reunion until we know where Syb’s at, and what she’s got up her sleeve.”
“I’d say that would be best.” I nodded. “As I told you, Chief Madison will be apprised of the situation. And he’s already investigating her disappearance.”
“Thank you, Ms. Mercer.” Abel offered his hand. “Hope you feel better, soon.”
“Me, too. Thank you.”
After we shook hands they filed out, and I was left with a lot of material to type up. Hopefully my initiative in going ahead with the questioning wouldn’t be met with hostility, i.e., Wyatt angry that I interviewed without his input and, Heaven forbid, his presence.
The brothers weren’t bad guys, just misguided and too trusting of their sister. She, on the other hand, was a conniving black-hearted … B-word.
Where in the world was she? The last person to see her, besides her brothers, was Dandelion Jones. And that was a week ago. The girl must have snuck up the back stairs the night she was supposed to meet with Bruce, by-passing the front desk and the night clerk, and then sneaked out again.
And what had happened that she left her rental abandoned in a ditch?
Hmm.
* * *
AS I SOON FOUND OUT, the chief had returned to the office while I was otherwise engaged.
I had just gotten to my desk when he came out of his office.
He was not happy.
In fact, standing in front of my desk, hands on hips, I could see his fury. It wasn’t anything I’d ever seen on his face before, not directed at me.
CHAPTER 48
FAST AND FURIOUS
“WHAT THE HELL were you thinking? Those three could have been armed. Even if they weren’t, they could have overpowered you. Why didn’t you wait for me, or Rick, to get back? Do you not have any common sense?”
Shock came first, that he would think I’d be stupid enough to entertain armed criminals.
/>
Then came the mad.
Why supply me with the means to help out in an emergency like this? Had it been just a token position, after all?
This anger was different, bigger, potentially bloodier. In comparison, the arguments about chocolate chip cookies, or him being over-protective, were trifling.
Opening the middle drawer, I grabbed my badge as I stood—hissing against the pain my sudden movements caused—slapped it on the top of my desk, and rounded on him. “I was doing my job, Police Chief Madison, trying to keep the peace. If you weren’t going to allow the consequences of your offer, you shouldn’t have bothered to give it to me.
“You didn’t have a problem with it when I had to question the mayor’s wife a few months ago.” I shoved the small metal disk towards him. The fastener underneath made a long scratch in the wood. “If that’s how you’re going to react when I use it, you can have it back. I don’t want it anymore.”
Taking a breath, but still fuming, I sat.
Too fast.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Cooling down was an extreme priority, but it needed to be done somewhere else, and forced myself to stand up again. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
His face changed. “Maggie.”
Maybe he’d suddenly changed his mind, or was having second thoughts about what he’d said. Oh, well. I was too mad to find out, and at that point, didn’t care.
My temper was full on, and blood red.
And the quick jerky movements I was making had aggravated my injuries, so they were now throbbing double time along with my elevated heart rate. Which made the mad … worse.
I had to get out. Get away.
“Please.” My right hand went up. “Don’t talk to me right now. You might not like what comes out of my mouth, and I don’t want to say something stupid that I can’t take back. I’m going home.”
“Come on.”
He reached for me, but I side-stepped him.
Ignoring another plea, I grabbed my outside things and left the building, carefully pulling on my coat around the sling, and one glove as I limped briskly down the sidewalk. Grunting in agony at every step. Maybe I should have taken more time to find out about the badge he’d requested for me from the borough council, asked if there were any stipulations, or regulations, about what I could or couldn’t do with that thing.
But hey, what’s the difference between what I did today, and six months ago? Not much. Reverend Blanchard was there last time, when Eleanor Patterson was putting on her dramatic show, but he was only moral support for her.
I was so angry. More than I’d been since…. I couldn’t even remember when I’d been this mad. I’m sure, if there was time for retrospect, that it could be chalked up to a culmination of all the stress and … well everything that’d happened in the last week or so. Sounded like a more plausible solution to all this rage than just a petty argument.
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
Huh.
Crap.
There had been an incident that made me this mad. Actually it was worse, if you can imagine. An idiot dweeb of a guy I’d dated once in high school, and then a couple times a few months after Bernie died, didn’t want to leave me alone; didn’t want to take ‘NO’ for an answer. It came to blows, but thank God the cretin finally got the message.
A close call, but my virtue stayed intact.
I think I broke his nose.
Definitely not a subject to revisit right now.
Cold. I was cold, and began to walk again. I really needed to talk myself down from this. The situation didn’t warrant this much out of control-ness. It wasn’t right, wasn’t healthy for me, or for Wyatt, either.
His reaction, on any other day of the week would still have made me mad, but not this stark raving.
If I couldn’t cool off….
I had to.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out. Think rationally, Maggie Lou. Don’t ruin this great fabulous thing you have with this great fabulous man over a stupid interview. Sure, he might be in the wrong about how he handled it, but you need to remember that he cares about you, your safety. You are valuable to him. He’s valuable to you.
I knew all that. It didn’t help that we’d not confronted or resolved our initial debate, and now there was more on top of it. We hadn’t had time to delve into the reasons for it, on any level, in any real sense.
So, in a small way, it wasn’t all his fault. But he could have thought about how it would affect me before he jumped all over it. I’ve gotten irritated about the same situational thing before.
Yeah, he should have, but he’s a guy. They don’t think the same way we do. Nor do they understand or rationalize why we females don’t always appreciate overbearing walking testosterone wanting to be in complete control.
I took another breath, a deep one, and let it out slowly.
Okay. I was less steamy. My brain was starting to making sense. Even so, Wyatt was going to stew a while longer. Was it, could it be considered, unreasonable for me to delay the confrontation?
A little bit. A teeny-tiny, little bit.
Maybe.
It wasn’t until I was almost to Annetta’s that the creepy I-think-I’m-being-followed sensation broke through the red haze. Stopping in to have some coffee might be safer than walking all the way to my house right now.
I picked up the pace as much as my hip would allow.
Good thing the diner was only a little further up the street, but dang-it, I needed to cross that stupid intersection again, and it didn’t look any more melted than it had yesterday, even though the temperatures had risen to a few degrees above freezing.
Carefully checking both directions, I listened intently for any revving-engine sounds. Not falling again was a major consideration. Slipping on the ice, in my current less than perfect physical condition, would be more than painful.
“Miss Maggie!”
CHAPTER 49
BEING A GROWNUP IS A PAIN IN THE BUTT SOMETIMES
WITH A STARTLED JERK, thankful I hadn’t started to step off the curb, I turned to greet my young buddy.
Argh!
In a sociable mood I was not, especially to a 10-year-old. But as much as Wyatt, Ricky, and I are in the public eye, it’s important to be a good example to the younger generation, to build respect, etc.
My diplomatic ‘smiley’ persona needed to be in place.
Uh huh.
I squinted at him. “Blake Giles Russell, what are you doing out here by yourself?” Tone it down, Maggie Lou. You sound awful irritated. “Where are your two cohorts?” A glance beyond him told me they weren’t trailing along this time.
“They had chores.”
With a mental sigh, I linked arms with him. “Where are you headed?”
“Nowhere special. I was gonna come in to see you, make sure you were okay, but those guys come out, just then. I ducked inside the hardware store, but Mr. Jones gets cranky if you don’t buy anything. As soon as they disappeared, I started across the street, but then you came out.” He paused to look up at me, smirking. “Boy, you sure were pissed at somebody.”
“Yeah, I was.” So much for putting on the nice face. “Does your father know you talk like that?”
“Yeah. Gran doesn’t, though.”
“Well, now, there’s some blackmail material I can use.”
“Aw, come on, Miss Maggie. Don’t rat me out. Please?”
“Let’s go have a piece of pie.”
“Um. I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind. Why not?” I smiled. “Oho. They don’t know you’re out, do they? Wow. More blackmail stuff.”
Sheepish, he wagged his head.
I nudged him off the curb. He tightened his hold on my right arm as we started to cross. Made me teary to think he was just as concerned about me falling as I was.
Not that his skinny little body would be able to keep me upright if we did start to slide.
We mad
e it across without mishap and continued down the street. “Aw, Blake, you’re such a sweetheart, but you’re in so much trouble.”
“Thanks, but not yet. I could sneak in the back and nobody’d know.”
“Will that keep you from doing it, again?”
“No.” He watched his feet moving. “Prolly not.”
I waggled the elbow he was hanging onto. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Tell ’em I was with you?”
“You want me to lie to your grandmother and your dad?”
Head hung low, he sighed. “No, ma’am.”
“I didn’t think so.” We stopped at the front door of Annetta’s and I lifted his chin. “In you go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Okay, so I wasn’t mad anymore. Well I was, but not on the surface. Something else occupied my immediate attention. The kid was a good distraction.
As far as I knew, Blake didn’t know his uncles were the ones he was being protected from. I didn’t doubt that at all, seeing as he’d only been a preschooler when they moved here. His dad and Annetta knew because Wyatt had talked to them about it.
The only one who was aware that the brothers weren’t a threat, was me.
Should I be the one to tell them the boys from Cleveland were harmless? That the woman who’d birthed Blake was on the loose, possibly?
No.
That was for Wyatt. And as I was presently on the outs with him about the whole thing, and didn’t want to get any further into the freezer, I’d best just … UGH, lie to Blake’s grandmother and his dad.
Geez. Wasn’t life just a big bowl of half-melted green Jell-O sometimes?
After coffee at Annetta’s—oh, and pie, too—and getting past her initial upset over seeing Blake with me when she thought he was upstairs in his room, I went back to face the wrath of the police chief.
But I wasn’t going back empty-handed – I had the replacement for the replacement coconut cream pie.