Lost and Found

by Margaret Lake

  “Not lasagna?” Anna laughed.

  “Nah, that’s for big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving.”

  “Right. I couldn’t eat turkey without tomato sauce and mozzarella.”

  “Me either,” Mark agreed. “So, you’ll be there?”

  “I said so last week, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did. But knowing you, you’ll have a dozen irons in the fire, and you’ll forget and show up four hours late.”

  “Not this time. I promise.”

  “Sure. And, hey, bring a friend.” Not waiting for her answer, Mark hung up, knowing Anna wouldn’t bring anyone as usual. He sure wished she’d find someone. And while he was wishing, he sure wished he’d find someone himself.

  As soon as Mark hung up, Anna hit the contacts icon and pulled up Michael’s number. Not giving herself time to think, she pressed the green phone button and held her breath when it started ringing.

  “Broderick,” Michael growled. He never appreciated an interruption when he was on a deadline.

  “Oh, sorry, Michael. I guess you’re busy. I’ll call back later.” Anna hung up quickly, her face flaming with embarrassment. Good thing she hadn’t Skyped him.

  But the phone rang and she saw Michael’s ID on her screen. He wouldn’t take the time when he was obviously so busy to call and blast her for interrupting him, would he? Only one way to find out. Not a mouse, not a mouse, not a mouse, she repeated to herself as she pressed the answer button.

  “Tomaselli,” she said firmly, trying not to clear her throat.

  “Annie?” Michael asked, not sure that he should have called her back so quickly.

  “Yes? Oh, Michael. I didn’t expect you to call me right back when you’re obviously deep into … things.”

  Anna couldn’t help but wince at that lame sentence. But she kept the phone pressed tightly to her ear, afraid it would slip out of her damp palm.

  “Well, I was rude before,” Michael said. “When I’m writing, I have no idea there’s even an outside world. And when the phone rings, I just answer without looking at the ID on the screen. Could be someone with information, you know, so I have to take the call.”

  “I thought it was something like that,” Anna breathed, relieved that he wasn’t just upset with her.

  “So, did you need anything?” Michael winced at that. Wrong question. “I mean did you want to tell me anything?” Sheesh, what kind of reporter was he. “How can I help you?” Giving up, Michael gave himself a mental head slap and shut up. Just let the woman talk, he told himself severely.

  “Uh, I just … just wanted to know if you found out anything,” Anna stuttered.

  “Not much. But look, I’m on a deadline here and then I have more research to do. How about we meet for dinner and I’ll fill you in.”

  “Okay. I mean, yes, that would be fine.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you there. Gotta run. Deadline calls.”

  Anna sat still holding the phone, staring at the display that showed Michael had hung up. Meet him where? At what time? This had been a very strange conversation, but Anna refused to let herself be shaken.

  “That’s what texting is for,” she said out loud to her empty office. Quickly she typed in her message. She’d love to use the voice function, but she was so bad at it … something about her voice … that the message was sure to be unreadable.

  “Text me when you’re ready to leave your office and let me know where to meet you,” she typed with her stylus. She was just as bad at that thumb typing thing as she was at the voice thing. Embarrassing for someone who’d graduated Summa Cum Laude, but there it was.

  Laughing at herself, Anna found that she was undeniably happy. She had a date … sort of … with a very attractive, personable man … and maybe, just maybe, she might have a date for that family picnic on the Fourth of July.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica hadn’t forgotten she intended to quiz Mia about Michael. There’d been a definite hostility in her voice and Jessica wanted to know why. As soon as they’d made sandwiches and poured coffee, she went on the attack.

  “What’s with you and Michael?” Jessica demanded.

  “What?” Mia asked, mumbling around a bite of roast beef and cheese.

  “You know exactly what I mean, Mia. Why are you angry with your brother? And don’t deny it. I could hear it in your voice.”

  “Jess,” Ashley jumped in, ever the mediator. “It’s probably just a brother and sister thing. You have brothers, even though they’re so much older than you, so you should understand.”

  “Maybe I don’t have much first-hand experience,” Jessica shot back. “But I have plenty of nieces and nephews and I see the kind of rivalry that exists between them. And what I’ve seen is that they aren’t so much fighting over things as they are trying to get Mom or Dad on their side.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mia objected, “that’s definitely not the case here. Michael is too much older than I am for us to be rivals, just like you and your brothers, Jess.”

  “Now that we have that settled,” Jessica countered, “just what is your problem with Michael? He’s been helping us, right?”

  Ashley nodded vigorously but both her friends ignored her.

  “And we want him to continue to help us, right?”

  Again, Ashley nodded and again she was ignored as her two friends glared at each other, lunch forgotten.

  “I don’t agree at all,” Mia replied loftily. “I think between us we are perfectly capable of handling a simple lease agreement on our own.”

  “With Anna’s help, yes,” Jessica agreed, but she didn’t miss the tightening of Mia’s lips. Was the problem with Anna? Or was the problem with anyone that wanted to help?

  Was Mia so intent on doing things on her own that she would ignore good advice from more experienced people? If that was the case, they needed to get that straightened out before this went any further.

  “Of course, with Anna’s help,” Mia snapped. Why did they have to keep talking about Anna Tomaselli? Mia stuffed her face with roast beef, stopping herself from blurting out the real reason for her hostility.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Jessica asked. “I’m sure there’s a lot more involved in this venture than just signing on the dotted line and moving our toothbrushes in.”

  Ashley giggled, although Jessica hadn’t intended to make a joke. “Don’t forget toothpaste … and food.”

  “Right, Ash,” Jessica smiled. They could always count on Ashley to ease the tension.

  “But Mia, even Michael likes Anna and seems to value her opinions,” Ashley added innocently.

  Jessica’s head swiveled sharply toward Mia. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Mia mumbled, feeling her face grow warm.

  “Yes. Yes, you are. Ash nailed it, didn’t she?”

  “Oh, Mia. That’s so sweet. Michael and Anna. They really look wonderful together,” Ashley sighed, but then her voice turned stern. “You should be happy for them. Not everyone finds their soul mate and if Michael and Anna are soul mates and found each other, you have no need to be jealous. Love breeds love, you know. It spreads to the people around the couple all on its own.”

  Both women stared in astonishment at Ashley. Their friend was certainly never given to long speeches and she must have felt strongly about this to have berated Mia.

  Mia put her sandwich on the plate and reached across the table to cover Ashley’s hand with hers. “Thank you for being my friend, Ash. And thank you for pointing out what I should have seen myself. I’m not losing either Michael or Anna, am I? If it works out, and I now hope that it does, I’ll have gained a sister who’s already a friend.”

  Jessica picked up her napkin to wipe her eyes that had turned to a soft blue and squeaked, “So, have we agreed on a deep, forest green for the accent colors?”

  * * *

  Michael had barely glanced at the text from Anna when his phone pinged and g
ot back to work. It was only when he’d finished and filed his story that he picked up the phone to scroll through his messages and he realized what he’d done.

  Moron! He yelled at himself. Idiot, dingbat, stupido! His only excuse … at least the only one he would admit to himself … was that the pressure of the deadline had driven all other thoughts out of his mind.

  Gritting his teeth, he hit reply. Sorry, is Chinese okay? Whatever you want. You pick the place.

  The reply came back a minute later.

  Since there’s only one Chinese restaurant in town, it will have to be Hong Kong Delights.

  Now Michael really felt like an idiot. Of course, there was only one place to get Chinese in Joseph.

  Okay. I’ll text you when I’m leaving. Still a bit of research to do. Shouldn’t be long.

  Anna sighed when she read Michael’s message. If he dove into the zone when he did research the same way he did when writing, it could be hours before he texted her again. But, apparently that was Michael, and she had a protein bar in her desk to tide her over. At least she’d have time to go home and freshen up.

  Perfect. See you there.

  Michael took a moment to smile at his phone. He had a date … well, sort of … with a beautiful, smart, savvy woman, who didn’t need to know exactly what time they could get together. In his job, deadlines ruled and things like research and interviews couldn’t be put off. Good thing he wasn’t on a big city paper with a constant stream of breaking news.

  With a sigh, Michael turned back to his keyboard and began the search for Merton, Henry. First the county, where he found no record of any Merton. He’d just started on the county next to Banks when Chief’s ringtone sounded.

  “Chief,” he greeted, putting him on speaker so he could continue his search.

  “Hang on to your hat, Michael. We’ve gotten a break.”

  “A break? You’ve identified one of the seniors?”

  “No, not yet. But I just got back the ME’s report on that body in the marsh.”

  “Hold on,” Michael sputtered, reaching for his tablet and opening the note app. “Go ahead, I’m ready.”

  “Not for publication yet, Mikey.”

  “Mum’s the word,” Michael agreed.

  “Good. C.o.D. is asphyxiation.”

  “Smothered?”

  “Yes. They found fibers in his mouth and lungs.”

  “Any ID on the fibers?”

  “Nothing conclusive. Standard cotton/poly, but hospital green.”

  “So that ties our John Doe in with the lost elders,” Michael blurted out, unable to contain his excitement.

  “Probably,” Chief temporized.

  “But not conclusively,” Michael agreed. “Anything else?”

  “No usable DNA. He’d been in the water long enough to wash away any trace evidence, and don’t forget, he was naked as a jaybird when he was found.”

  “These guys do like to cover their tracks, don’t they?”

  “Yes, they do, but the ME found a bit more than the fibers. There were some plant stems caught in his hair, and not the kind found in the marsh.”

  “Have they been able to identify the plants?”

  “Everything was sent off to forensics.”

  “So, it’s wait and see as usual. The state labs are always backed up.”

  “Frustrating, I know, but at least we have some info on the victim.”

  “What are you thinking, Chief?”

  “Again, not for publication,” Chief warned.

  “Noted.”

  “That this guy worked with our victims. Maybe he didn’t know what was going on and they killed him when he found out. Or maybe he was in on the scam from the beginning and was okay with the money, but not condemning the patients to death by abandoning them.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, Chief. Any closer to an ID on the guy?”

  “The state guys are searching dental records as we speak.”

  “Any tattoos or scars that might identify him?”

  “Evidence of a wrist fracture when he was a kid.”

  “Probably fell off a skateboard or bike,” Michael laughed. “I should know.”

  “How many times did you fall off that skateboard before you gave it up?”

  “I didn’t give it up. Dad gave it up for me. And don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that.”

  Chief chuckled at the memory. He’d been there when his good friend, Mike Sr., had read the riot act to his son and taken away all his bats and balls and bike for a month. The skateboard went to a thrift store and Mikey had never gotten another one.

  “Tattoos, Chief,” Michael asked again, quickly changing the subject.

  “One. A Death Star with an Imperial Storm Trooper in front of it.”

  “Star Wars fan. Probably only a trillion of those in the state.”

  “You’ve got that right. But they’ll be checking the prison database for that particular design. If he’s got a record, we may find him that way quicker than dental records.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s it. I’ll let you know if there’s anything new. If we identify him, you may be able to print that. For now, nothing.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Chief.”

  “Good talking to you, Mikey. I’ll tell your mother you sent your love.”

  On that note, Chief hung up, always having to have the last word.

  * * *

  It was ten o’clock and Anna had just decided it was time to give up on Michael. He probably couldn’t uncramp his fingers from the keyboard to even send her a text and his butt was probably long since glued to his chair.

  But she was hungry, and though she never snacked before bedtime, she thought just this once wouldn’t hurt. Opening the refrigerator door, she stuck her head in, looking for leftovers to heat up when the doorbell rang.

  “Ouch!” she yelled. Startled by the bell, she’d pulled out of the fridge too quickly and banged her head a good one on the top edge.

  Still rubbing her head, Anna flipped on the lights and pulled aside the curtain on the front door sidelights. It was Michael standing on the porch, a pizza box in his hands.

  “Sorry,” he grinned, holding out his peace offering when he saw the curtains twitch.

  Anna couldn’t help but laugh. How someone could grin and look woeful at the same time, she had no idea, but at least he was here. Might as well open the door since he brought food.

  “It’s the Nonna’s Kitchen special,” Michael said, his grin slipping slightly when Anna failed to invite him in. “Nonna makes her own sausage you know.”

  “Yes, I know,” Anna nodded, her head starting to throb. “You’d better come in before that pizza gets cold.”

  Michael stepped inside the house, his reporter’s eye giving a quick glance around the place. All soft colors and dreamy artwork, but nothing fussy or girly. Simple but homey and comfortable.

  “Come in the kitchen, Michael. We can eat there.”

  Anna’s tone was still hesitant and Michael wondered if the only reason she’d let him in was the pizza. If she’d waited for him to eat, she had to be starving.

  “Look, Annie, I know it’s late and I shouldn’t even be here, but I wanted to apologize and nothing says sorry like one of Nonna’s special pizzas,” he said, putting the box down on the tiny kitchen island.

  “It’s okay, Michael. I appreciate the effort and I am hungry.” And hurting, she added to herself, giving in to the need to rub the small bump on the top of her head.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself? Let me see,” he demanded, tipping her head down and parting her hair before Anna could protest.

  “Just a small bump, no blood, but it must hurt like hell.”

  “Yes, it does,” Anna agreed. “May I have my head back now?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Michael said, stepping back. He didn’t think he’d said sorry so many times in his life, but her hair had felt good under his probing fingers. Sort of satiny and
lush. “How did you do that, anyway?”

  “I …”

  “No, let me guess. You were looking in the fridge for something to eat, I rang the doorbell, you jumped and bumped your head on the bottom of the freezer door,” he grinned.

  “Close enough, but how did you know?” Anna finally smiled. It was hard to hold on to negative feelings, even a throbbing head, with Michael around.

  “My keen reporter’s nose,” he bragged and fought the urge to say sorry again. But it had been his fault. Nobody dropped by this late at night and he should have called first. It was the same impulse that drove him to bring Sammy home.

  “Sammy!”

  “Sammy? Oh, the cute little dog.”

  “I left him with Mia. What if she left him alone? He’s not used to our house yet. And what if she forgot to feed him or put him outside?”

  “Michael,” Anna said softly, laying her hand on his arm and fighting the urge to laugh. “Mia is a grown woman and from what I’ve seen of her, very responsible. I’m sure she’s taking very good care of Sammy.”

  “Maybe. Probably. Oh, hell, you’re right.”

  “That’s better. Now, do you like your pizza cold or fresh out of the oven?”

  “I think fresh out of the oven would be best, especially with the bottle of red I brought.”

  Finally, Michael was able to relax enough to notice that Anna stood very close and still had her hand on his arm. It was hard to move away when all he wanted to do was lay his lips on hers where a small smile still lingered.

  “Pizza, wine, yes,” he murmured, hoping that Anna would step back because he sure as hell couldn’t move.

  No, Anna thought. It’s not the right time and definitely not the right place for their first kiss. Too intimate. Too dangerous. And it’s up to me to step away.

  “I’ll get the glasses,” Anna said, turning toward the cabinets. “Napkins are on the counter.”

  “No plates?” Michael asked, opening the pizza box.

  “Plates? Please. I wouldn’t insult my grandmother’s pizza like that,” Anna scoffed. “Folded over with a napkin.”