Mystery Bride

by Daniels, B. J.

The sign inside the doorway of the older brick building indicated Whiz Kidz was on the fifth floor. She and Will stepped into the small, antiquated elevator.

  “Not exactly cutting edge,” Will commented.

  Her thought exactly. She was glad when the door opened on the fifth floor and she could get out of the musty-smelling confined space.

  She realized immediately that this top floor space was smaller than the floors below. There were only a few offices and there was no reception area, which surprised her.

  A short hallway with threadbare carpet ended in an office door with gold lettering on opaque glass that read, Whiz Kidz.

  This was where Lucas had designed a computer game worth millions of dollars?

  She could see several other offices. Small and simply furnished, they each had a computer, desk and chair. One of the offices had an outer office and a window. The walls were faded as if large poster-size objects had recently been taken down.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Either computer game whizzes didn’t come in early, or there weren’t many employees at Whiz Kidz.

  A phone rang in the office at the end of the short hall behind another door with gold lettering: Bradley Guess. She headed for the door, eavesdropping on what she could hear of Mr. Guess’s one-sided conversation.

  There was no door with Lucas’s name on it that she could see.

  “I’m handling it,” the voice snapped irritably. “Look, if I knew something, you’d be the first—Whatever. I don’t have time for this now, Bebe.” He hung up and swore.

  Sam tapped lightly on the glass.

  “Come in!” the brusque voice snapped.

  She glanced at Will, then pushed open the door. This office was a little nicer than the others, but not much. A large computer dominated the space; next to it stood a stack of computer games. On the walls were several dozen large colorful framed posters of computer game covers. None she’d ever heard of. Which meant nothing.

  “Mr. Gu—” She never got the name out. Sitting behind the desk was a man she recognized, but not as Bradley Guess. “Buzz?” she stammered in surprise.

  It took him a little longer. He blinked several times and frowned.

  “Samantha Murphy,” she provided. “We went to college—”

  “Samantha, sure. You and Lucas— Yeah, I remember you.”

  He didn’t offer her a seat. In fact, he didn’t seem all that excited to see her. Not that they’d been close in college, even though he’d been Lucas’s closest friend.

  “I didn’t know the two of you were partners in Whiz Kidz,” she said. Who was she kidding? She didn’t know much of anything about Lucas’s life.

  Buzz nodded, and she tried to remember the name he’d used at college. Not that it mattered. Obviously, he’d changed his name—and his appearance. He looked more “hip” in his button-down shirt, khakis. But he was still short with wiry brown hair and intense dark eyes that always made him look as if he were thinking hard about something.

  “So, what are you doing here?” he asked, and shot a look at Will.

  Socially he was the same, Sam realized. Inept.

  He was staring at them as if they were lost and he didn’t like giving directions.

  “I’m a private investigator,” she said. “I’ve been hired to investigate the disappearance of Lucas O’Brien.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “This is an associate of mine, Will Sheridan.”

  He glanced at Will again. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help. I have no idea where Lucas is.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” she asked. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “I’ll wait for you down the hall,” Will said, excusing himself as per their plan. He closed the door behind him.

  She drew up one of the chairs across the desk from Buzz—Arnold Zingler. That had been his name. But everyone called him Buzz because of his buzz cut.

  As she sat down, she pulled a notebook and a pen from her purse. “The last time you saw him?” she asked again, flipping open the notebook.

  He glanced toward his door as if worried about where Will had gone.

  “Well, I’ve already told the police everything I know,” he said. “Why don’t you talk to them?”

  “I will, but there are a few things I’m not clear on. When did you say you last saw Lucas?”

  Buzz sighed, picked up a No. 2 pencil from his desk and leaned back in the chair. He began to twirl the pencil between his fingers like a baton. “I saw him Friday morning when he came in. He seemed agitated, acting weirder than usual.” He continued in a singsong voice as if he’d told this story numerous times. “Later that night someone broke into his office. Tore it up, stole his most recent game and destroyed the computers. That’s all I know. I haven’t seen Lucas since.”

  She could tell there was a whole lot more Buzz wasn’t saying. He acted nervous, twirling the pencil at Mach-two speed.

  “You have no idea why he was acting strangely?”

  Buzz shrugged. “You know Lucas.”

  She’d thought so. “I heard he was in some sort of trouble. Financial trouble.”

  Buzz seemed to squirm in his seat. “Who told you that?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about Lucas’s personal life,” he said.

  It was an obvious lie. She tried a different approach. “This new game he was working on—what kind of game was it?”

  Buzz twirled his pencil and shrugged. “I really can’t say. This is a very competitive market.”

  “Really? I’m surprised you don’t have more security, then.” As far as she could tell, they didn’t have any.

  “It’s never been a problem before Friday night.”

  “How did the burglar get in?” she asked.

  “Broke in through a service entrance downstairs.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “No computer equipment was taken? Then it could have been just kids?”

  He shook his head. “The only office broken into was Lucas’s. The only game taken was his new design.”

  She let that sink in. “So any games he developed while he worked here were the partnership’s property?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Look, I can’t imagine what any of this has to do with Lucas’s disappearance. It seems pretty obvious what’s going on.”

  She waited for him to continue because nothing seemed obvious to her.

  “Since you’ll probably find this out, anyway—Whiz Kidz is having a little financial trouble.”

  She could tell it was hard for Buzz, the original whiz kid, to admit that.

  “Actually, we might have to declare bankruptcy.”

  “Really?” she said.

  “So Lucas skipped out, taking his new game design, leaving me holding the bag.” His tone reeked of bitterness.

  “Did you have any insurance on the two of you in case something happened to one or the other?” she asked.

  Buzz’s eyes narrowed. “You think I killed him?” He laughed harshly as if the idea had crossed his mind. “The insurance was the first thing that had to go. Lucas’s death wouldn’t benefit me in any way.”

  So much for that theory. “What about his other games? He didn’t take them?”

  “Why would he? They’re all dogs. Bow-wow.”

  She stared at him. “Not all of his games were dogs, right?”

  “Well, let’s just say none of Lucas’s games made any real money.”

  “None?” She sounded like a parrot. She hoped Will was doing better than she was.

  “It seems Lucas has no talent for computer games,” Buzz said even more acerbically. “And my games haven’t done well enough to carry the entire business.”

  “What about his latest game?”

  Buzz scoffed. “I don’t think he was even working on a game. I think he was just stringing me along like everyone else.”

  “Everyone else?”

  He realized his mistake. “I think Lucas might have owed mon
ey to some people.”

  “Why didn’t you dissolve the partnership a long time ago if Lucas was such a drain?”

  “The only way out of the partnership was to buy the other person out, and obviously neither of us could afford to do that.”

  The plot thickened. “So that’s why you think he took off—because he didn’t have the money to buy you out or a game that was going to bail out Whiz Kidz?”

  “Oh, I think he did more than that,” Buzz said. “I think he faked the break-in. He wanted everyone to think someone was after him and that he is now floating at the bottom of the Sound in cement shoes.”

  She didn’t like that image. “Where do you think he is?”

  “Far away from here,” Buzz said, and suddenly looked angry enough to kill. “Believe me, we won’t be seeing him again.”

  She got to her feet, afraid that was true. “You don’t mind if I take a look around Lucas’s office, do you?”

  She could see he did mind. But for some reason his expression changed.

  “There’s nothing in there to see, but help yourself. It’s the third door on your left.”

  “Let me give you my card,” she said, “in case you should hear from Lucas or think of anything else that might help.”

  He took her card with obvious reluctance. “I won’t be hearing from Lucas.” Without looking at the card, he dropped it on his desk. “It’s too bad about the boy, though.”

  “Yes,” she said as she left, closing the door behind her. Down the hall she spotted Will. He gave her the high sign that he’d finished his part and pointed to a room down the hall on the right.

  As she passed the third office on the left—the one Buzz had said was Lucas’s—she looked in. Empty. Obviously it hadn’t been used for some time, judging by the layer of dust on the desk and computer. Why had Buzz lied?

  She went down the hall to where Will waited for her. “Are you sure this was Lucas’s?” she whispered as she peered into the office he indicated. It had a small outer office with a slightly larger office facing the street, complete with a window.

  The office was empty, as if it recently had been cleaned.

  Will didn’t answer, but ushered her to the elevator. Just then, the elevator doors opened and a postman started to step off. Either he wasn’t used to seeing many people on this floor, or they startled him. A small square package balancing precariously on top of his load slid off. He reached for it, but missed. It hit the floor.

  Will picked it up and handed it back to the embarrassed postman.

  “Thanks. I guess I was gathering wool,” he said, and scurried down the hall toward Buzz’s office.

  “So did you find anything?” Sam asked the moment they were out of the building.

  “Zack’s key definitely is like the ones that fit the other offices,” Will said.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Then how did you know that that particular one was Lucas’s office?”

  “Because it appears both doors were replaced after the break-in.” He nodded at her surprised look. “Whoever burglarized the office must have broke down both doors.”

  “Does that seem odd to you?” she asked.

  “Very,” he said. “But since they were partners it makes sense that Lucas would have had his name on the door, right?”

  “Right.” She repeated what Buzz had told her. “Buzz is convinced all of this is just a stunt to allow Lucas to get out of his responsibilities.” The thought scared her because of the phone message. It seemed pretty obvious now that Lucas had wanted her to take care of Zack.

  “But why would Lucas go to the trouble of breaking into the building, then knocking down both doors to his office, when he still had a key?” Will asked.

  “Because he didn’t break into his office?” she asked, feeling a chill. “Or he did and purposely tried to make it look like a break-in. In that case, he really did stage his own disappearance, just as Buzz suspects.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Will didn’t need to ask Samantha what she believed. It was obvious she was holding out for Lucas’s innocence but having a hard time based on what she’d learned about the man. He felt for her. He knew only too well what it was like to realize a person wasn’t who you thought they were. Only, in his case he was learning that Samantha Murphy was a hell of a lot more woman than anything he’d imagined at the party just days before.

  “Where to?” he asked, as they climbed back into the truck.

  “Lucas’s apartment,” she said, gazing out the window as if lost in thought. Or just lost.

  They drove in silence through the dense morning traffic. Lucas’s apartment was in Fremont, a funky little community with brightly colored shops and interesting architecture. Samantha had an address she’d gotten from the head nurse at the Lazy Rest in Wolf Point, but couldn’t be sure it wasn’t old.

  It turned out to be part of a gray, wood-framed four-plex on a green hillside.

  Will watched the street while Samantha tried Zack’s key. The apartment door opened, and he quickly followed her inside.

  A wall of stale, damp air hit him in the face. That and the distinct smell of something spoiled.

  “Oh, no,” he heard Samantha say in front of him.

  He glanced over her shoulder as she clicked on an overhead light. The apartment had been ransacked, but since there wasn’t much to trash, it wasn’t too bad. The place was small and had been sparsely furnished. The bare white walls would have given it an abandoned, empty feel even if the rest of the furnishings hadn’t been so minimal. Will was struck with the thought that when Lucas left here, he hadn’t planned to come back.

  He glanced over at Sam and saw that she’d come to the same conclusion. She tossed down a worn couch cushion she’d picked up, then swore as she stepped into the living room.

  A desk dominated the room, making the couch and single chair appear out of place. Computer magazines smothered the coffee table along with several dirty coffee cups that had made dark rings on the covers. A large computer sat on the desk, but someone had broken into the back of the computer and destroyed whatever had been inside it.

  “I’m going to look upstairs,” Samantha said. “I thought we’d pick up some of Zack’s things while we are here, if there are any left.”

  He glanced in the kitchen and bathroom, and then followed her up the stairs to the two bedrooms. All of Lucas’s clothing was gone, his bedroom stripped of everything but the bed and bedding.

  As Will looked around, he realized what had been bothering him about this place. There weren’t any nails in the walls. No dents or screw holes or faded areas where anything had hung. No framed photos or mementos gathering dust anywhere. Even the clutter looked impersonal.

  Zack needs a real home, he thought, and jerked back from the idea. Sam would find him one.

  He brightened as he stepped into Zack’s room. It looked like a kid’s space. The walls were covered with drawings and paintings, all in the hand of a child—a unique child with an active imagination.

  “Hey, Zack’s quite the artist,” he called to Samantha, who was still searching Lucas’s bedroom.

  He could imagine Zack drawing this stuff. It made him feel a little better about the kid’s upbringing. It also reminded him of when he used to draw a lot. It had been years since he’d drawn anything by hand. Everything was on computer now. Funny, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the feel of a plain white sheet of paper or the smell of a freshly sharpened pencil.

  Zack’s room had been ransacked, as well. At least, he thought it had. There were clothes and toys strewn on the floor; the bed sheets were torn from the bed and all the bureau drawers were pulled out.

  He noticed then that the toy box, headboard and chest of drawers all matched and looked like relics of another boy’s past—no doubt Lucas’s. Something about that made Will think that Lucas had cared for the boy. His feelings toward Lucas softened a little.

  He went through the drawers, pulled out clothes for Zack and piled them on
the bare mattress. After a moment, he sensed Samantha behind him and turned.

  She stood, silhouetted against the light coming from Lucas’s room. She looked so good framed like that in the doorway. Even tired and discouraged, she looked great. He knew he could be by her side in two strides, lift her into his arms and carry her to the small bed as if she were weightless.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked, his voice sounding a little hoarse even to his ears.

  She shook her head. “Was there something else that Zack might want us to get for him while we’re here?”

  He dragged his gaze from her to the room. “There are quite a few toys—mostly old, though.”

  She came into the room, stirring up the molecules of air around him, causing some sort of odd barometric pressure disturbance in the room as she moved to the bed to pick up the clothing he’d stacked there.

  It was all he could do not to reach for her. Visions of the two of them making love glided effortlessly into his head. But not here. Not in Lucas’s apartment.

  When she turned, what he saw in her gaze welded him to the floor.

  “Will?”

  Her voice was a whisper, ragged and husky. Her eyes were a magnificent blue, as deep and warm as the Caribbean Sea. Taking a dip in them seemed inevitable—

  The phone rang, jarring him out of his lascivious thoughts. Samantha seemed to start, too. She moaned softly and blinked a couple of times as if coming out of some sort of haze.

  He followed her down the stairs to where the phone hung on the wall of the kitchen. She picked up the receiver on the third ring and handed it to him, mouthing, Just say hello.

  “Hello?”

  She moved close to him to listen. A fuzzy silence hummed through the line. He could feel her body heat, smell her scent.

  “Who is this?” a female voice demanded.

  “Who is this?” Will asked. “You called me.”

  “It’s Mercedes. I’m looking for Lucas.”

  Wasn’t everyone?

  “Funny you should call,” Samantha said, taking the phone. “I was planning to call you.”

  MERCEDES PALMER LIVED in West Seattle in a condo overlooking Elliott Bay.