by Jean Martino
“He’s like an old friend I’ve known for years,” she had told her. “We can talk for hours about anything; the world situation, his kids, his grandkids, his fishing trips, Cindy and Michael, oh and about feelings. He’s just so great to talk to.”
“Sounds like you talk more to him than I do with Bill,” Jessica laughed. “Are you falling for him?”
Linda burst out laughing at the idea. “Good grief, Jessica,” she cried. “I’ve never even met him so how could I “fall” for him as you say.”
Jessica shrugged. “I read all the time about couples meeting online and falling in love and getting married. I guess it can happen.”
Linda wondered about that too. She knew she had feelings for Scott but until now had never had to deal with them up front. Lately though, she’d been getting these funny little feelings when she saw his face on the video screen. It made her feel uncomfortable, but she liked it too. And he was so sweet to her, always saying things like, “I want to hug you,” that made her laugh but blush like a teenager. And sometimes he would tell her he had dreamed about her, and she was amazed because she had dreamed about him too. How could that happen when they’d never seen each other except on the computer screen?
She’d heard about online relationships and cyber sex and although it didn’t turn her off, she didn’t think it could be that satisfying without being physically together, and Scott had only hinted at it once and then she had been so embarrassed she had quickly changed the subject. He had never mentioned it again. Since Vito’s death she had had occasional sex with men she dated, most of the time to prove she still could feel that way, but it had all proved very unsatisfying for her and she hadn’t really missed it that much. Until lately, she thought now, remembering how turned on she had become a week ago when Scott had told her in his deep sexy voice that she had beautiful breasts. She had been ready to bare all for him at that moment she was so turned on, but he had not gone any further with it; leaving her feeling slightly let down and not just a little frustrated.
She flipped the rear view mirror towards her and stared at her now flushed face. She had to get it together. She was about to meet Scott for the first time in real life and she needed him to help her find her daughter. Nothing more and nothing less. She got out of the car, smoothing her black skirt and tucking the loosened ends of her royal blue blouse more firmly into the waist band. Her hands were trembling as she locked the car’s door, then walked quickly towards the Newporter Inn’s lobby, her high heels clicking on the cement path.
CHAPTER 4
Grasping the glass door’s handle, Linda quickly pulled it open, stepping inside the crowded lobby and staring nervously around. People were milling around everywhere and she stepped back near the wall, her eyes searching, her heart thumping. What if he had decided not to come, she thought, feeling the panic rising. What if he had decided it was all too much trouble and he didn’t want to get involved. What if---
“Linda!”
Her heart suddenly leaped as she spun around, almost losing her balance on her high heels as she saw him walking towards her through the crowds. Shivers of excitement were racing throughout her whole body, making her legs feel weak at the knees, as she stared at his smiling face for the first time in real life. Oh my God, she thought, feeling like a teenager on her first date. This man walking towards her was not the man on the internet she had felt so comfortable chatting with; this was Scott in real life, not a picture flashing on her computer screen but the real life man
As if the world had suddenly gone into slow motion, she watched him striding towards her, each unhurried but determined step he took diminishing the gap between them. Her eyes were fixated on him, his tall, slim, straight-backed body moving with the quiet self confidence she had always known he possessed.
And then he was there, right there, in front of her, his face only inches from her own and not the thousands and thousands of miles away she was used to when they had looked at each other on the computer video screen. Her whole body started shivering with unexpected emotions. Without speaking, he took her face in his hands and lifted it upwards and before she could say anything she felt his lips coming down on hers, warm and firm and surprisingly gentle. It was only for a few seconds but had taken her totally by surprise; not just his kiss but her reaction to it. She had thought curiously about a moment like this happening between them for a year now, wondering what it would feel like, and if she would like it or not like it, be turned on by it or not. And now that the moment was upon her and she could actually feel their lips connecting she knew. It felt wonderful. It felt intimate. It felt incredibly sensuous.
His lips moved away and he dropped his hands and wrapped his strong arms around her and at that moment she started breathing again, deep intakes of breath that made her body tremble.
It had all happened so fast she wasn’t sure if she had dreamed it. Still holding her, Scott leaned back and stared down at her with those incredibly warm brown eyes she had only seen before on the internet screen and smiled warmly at her.
“Hello Linda,” he said.
“Hello Scott,” she said, returning his smile and feeling her cheeks burning.
He took her arm. “Let’s get away from this crowd,” he said, guiding her through the lobby.
In the bar area he stopped at a table, holding her chair as she sat down. There were two drinks there already, his scotch that she knew he liked and a glass of white wine which he knew she liked. He had thought of everything, she thought, as he sat down then reached across the small round table and took her hand.
She blushed at the intensity of his staring at her. “I can’t take my eyes off you,” he said, squeezing her hand warmly. “Are you real or am I dreaming? No, don’t answer that. If I’m dreaming I don’t want to wake up. You look wonderful. I can’t believe you’re that same Linda, my online buddy who has been so much a part of my life for the last year.” He picked up his glass and she picked up hers and they clicked them together as he said, “Nice to finally meet my online buddy in person.”
Taking a sip of her drink she lowered the glass to stare back at him. “This feels so incredible, Scott. I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you right now in real life and how absolutely wonderful you look too. Not that you didn’t look wonderful on the internet of course.” She stopped and felt the blush creeping over her face. “Oh gosh, am I making any sense? I---”
He took her glass and put it back on the table next to his then grasped her hands in his. “Don’t even try to make sense of it for now,” he said softly. “We are here, together, that’s all that matters for now. The rest will work itself out in time.”
She nodded, feeling too emotional to speak.
For several seconds they just looked into each other’s eyes, feeling emotions that were all mixed up with the reason for their finally meeting but unwilling to break the magical spell that had enveloped them.
Finally Scott spoke. “Perhaps this is an inappropriate question,” he said gently, “but how are you feeling right now?”
Guilty, she wanted to say; guilty for feeling so incredibly happy to be here with you at last. “It’s not inappropriate,” she said, hearing the catch in her voice as she lowered her eyes to look at their hands entwined together. “I feel all mixed up inside. I don’t know what to think anymore about Cindy and Michael disappearing like that; frustrated, angry, tormented, and more than anything, helpless. I’ve hardly slept since that awful day Cindy didn’t arrive on that plane. I suppose also I feel a bit jetlagged right now.” She raised her eyes to look at him. “But now I feel confident I will find them somehow with your help. Scott, I have to find them. I have to find my daughter and her husband.”
He nodded. “How long are you planning to stay?” he asked.
“As long as it takes to find Cindy and Michael,” she said firmly.
Then he told her about his visit to the Newport Beach police department and how he had driven to Cindy’s home and walked around it but it did
n’t seem like anyone had broken in. “I would have liked to have gone through it and seen if there was anything there that could help solve the disappearance, but even if I did pick the lock I noticed they have a security alarm and the police would have to issue a warrant to get it turned off.”
Linda shook her head. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “Cindy wrote in a letter to me when they first bought the house telling me where she hides the spare key and the shutoff code for the security alarm.”
Scott tilted his head sideways, a surprised look on his face. “She did? Why would she tell you the alarm shut off code when you live on the other side of the world?”
Linda tugged her hands free of his and opened her purse, taking out an envelope. “Here,” she said, thrusting the envelope at him. “It’s the letter she wrote me when they first bought the house. It will explain everything. I want to go there now, to their home,” she said. “I was hoping you would go with me.”
He took the two page letter out and unfolded it, removing the photo from it. It was dated a year and nine months ago which he presumed was just after they had bought their new home in Newport Beach.
She watched him reading it, wanting to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming; that he was really sitting there a foot away from her and not on her computer video screen back in Australia.
Scott looked again at the photo then returned it with the letter back inside the envelope and handed it to her. “It sounds like she’s thought of everything,” he said.
“I just hope we can find her and Michael,” said Linda, putting the envelope back in her purse. “I know Cindy wouldn’t have just not flown to Australia and not told me why.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out,” said Scott. “I must warn you though the police are checking on the house and if they see lights on they might come to the door. But with this letter they can’t charge you with housebreaking.” He stood up and held her chair while she stood also. “We can take my car and come back for yours later.”
Neither of them finished their drinks and, as they hurried out to the car park, Scott held Linda’s arm firmly but gently. She slid into the passenger seat of his rented blue Mercury Monterey, feeling strangely at home and comfortable with him as he drove out onto Jamboree Road and headed for Cindy’s home. He reached over and took her hand in his, holding it as he steered effortlessly with one hand. She felt little thrills racing through her body at his touch and wondered if he was feeling the same way. It wasn’t what she had expected. She had tried to convince herself that she and Scott were just friends, nothing more. But obviously there was more going on between them than either of them had thought possible.
When they reached Cindy and Michael’s street, Linda stared curiously at the luxurious homes they passed and when they reached Cindy and Michael’s home her eyes widened. Despite the photo Cindy had sent her, to actually see their huge two storied white stuccoed home with the four car garage attached, and the impeccably kept front lawns bordered by shrubbery and flower patches, now almost took her breath away. She knew enough about California real estate to know that this type of house had to have cost a hell of a lot more than the three hundred thousand Cindy had told her they paid for it. She would hazard a guess that it was probably closer to a million, so how could they possibly have afforded it even with Michael making the excellent money she said he was?
Scott parked his car on the street and they walked down the narrow graveled side path to the back of the house, which made Linda gasp in even more surprise seeing the white lattice work gazebo in the middle of the huge lawned area, surrounded by palm trees and thickly luxurious tropical plants. It looked like something that belonged in Beverly Hills, she thought, as Scott found the key taped under the wooden bird feeder and she followed him back to the front of the house. He unlocked the heavy wood double front doors then stepped aside to let her go in and immediately the shrill sound of the alarm went off. Scott went right to it and inserted the code and it stopped. Closing the door behind them, he let out a low whistle.
“Your daughter and her husband must be doing real good in their work to afford a place like this.”
“I agree,” she said, staring around at the magnificent insides of the home curiously.
The foyer was black slate, with a large gold framed mirror over a stand on which sat a huge bowl of intricately made silver and purple cloth flowers. From there they had a sweeping view of the enormous living room with its open white brick fireplace. The walls were ivory, the carpeting creamy beige, and the champagne velvet couch and chairs Cindy had told her they bought with her housewarming money, were separated by a very large glass topped coffee table. Everything was so tastefully done, the furniture, lamps, ornaments, paintings, all blending in so well, that Linda wondered if they had had an interior designer tell them what to put in there, then remembered Cindy saying they had bought it already fully furnished.
The living room branched off into a formal dining room, its walls covered in metallic gold wall paper; a huge crystal chandelier hanging over a highly polished mahogany dining table surrounded by six matching high back chairs with gold brocade seats. It wasn’t Cindy’s style, Linda thought curiously, as they walked into the large kitchen with everything built in flush to the gold and black striped metallic wallpapered walls. It was too elegant, too high society looking, not the simple homey kind of house Cindy usually liked.
On the other side of the kitchen was a family room and from the little bit of clutter, magazines tossed around, she had a feeling this was where they really lived when at home. There was a black cordless phone sitting on its base which included an answering machine on the side table in the family room. Scott walked over and saw the phone had been unplugged. Reconnecting it, he picked up the hand set and heard a dial tone.
“Phone’s still connected,” he said, “But there are no tapes in the answering machine.”
“That explains why I couldn’t leave a message when I called from Australia,” said Linda, her face tightening with concern.
“Mind if I go upstairs and check?” Scott asked.
“No, of course not,” she said, stepping out of the unaccustomed high heeled shoes and pushing them aside for now. “I want to check out some things down here.”
While she remained looking around downstairs, Scott walked up the stairs, his shoes sinking into the thick creamy beige carpeting that continued along the landing and into each room off it. The master bedroom was all mirrored closets with polished mahogany furniture; a large dressing table and chest of drawers, and a four poster king size bed draped in a wine colored velvet spread, with two bedside tables each holding a brass lamp with wine colored pleated shades. Through another door he walked into a large ensuite bathroom, complete with a spa bath, shower, commode, and marble topped counters. But there wasn’t one item of clothing in the closets or other furniture, or any toiletries in the bathroom, or anything on top of the other furniture. Lifting the cover on the bed he saw it still had sheets and a blanket on it.
The bedroom next to it was smaller with white antiqued furniture and a double bed, also with sheets and a blanket on it, draped in a gold satin spread. He presumed it was the guest bedroom but, as in the master bedroom, it revealed nothing in the closets either or in the bathroom adjoining it. But in the linen closet in the hallway he saw towels and sheets and blankets and pillows.
The next room had been set up as a den with a circular brown leather couch and coffee table on one side, and on the other side a large oak wood desk with a computer on top of it and a file cabinet next to it. The file cabinet wasn’t locked so he opened it and, except for the empty hanging gray files attached by hooks to the slider in the drawer, it was empty. He checked the two lower drawers and they were empty also. The drawers in the desk held only a box of paper clips, stapler and some pencils. There was nothing in the room to indicate anyone had worked in there even. He switched on the computer and nothing opened. When he checked to make sure it was plugged
in he noticed the Central Processing Unit tower had been opened and the hard drives had been removed. But when he moved the CPU forward a manila folder fell out from the side of it where it had been carefully hidden.
Sitting at the desk he opened it and saw it contained notes headed, “White Collar Fraud...???” Possibly an assignment Cindy had been working on, he thought, remembering how Linda had told him she did investigative journalism. The question marks made him think she was trying to decide if the title was right or not. Mostly the information was statistics she could have gotten off the internet or from a library. Several pages were scrawled in writing which he recognized as Cindy’s from the writing in Linda’s letter. Then he found several pieces of yellow legal paper amongst the others that she had written notes on haphazardly, as if too excited about something to keep everything in order. Amongst the writing she had doodled circles and faces and squares as if her mind was thinking about something she saw in her notes that she had not explained. Several times he saw the initials “CD” written in the middle of the page and sometimes on the side and another time in the top corner. He sat for a few minutes wondering why the filing cabinet held no other files and why this one had apparently been hidden as if deliberately.