Lost and Found

by Margaret Lake

  “Thank you, Officer,” Mia got out between clenched teeth. She’d just stopped herself from calling him Officer Guard Dog, but she couldn’t quite let go of her resentment. Michael would have had a good laugh with the man and thanked him for his trouble. But that wasn’t her. She usually took out her aggression at the gym, but she’d been too busy between her college classes and instructing at the dojang and the senior center, not to mention the Victorian house. But soon, she’d be setting up her own workout space in the basement of the Victorian and that thought calmed her mood a bit.

  The paramedics came and pronounced her fit, but suggested she drop by the clinic and have the doc look her over.

  “I’ll pop into the bakery to find the owner and then drive you home or wherever you want to go,” Charlie offered.

  “Thanks, but my brother will pick me up.” Then she remembered he had interviews planned and was probably already gone.

  Just then a man came from around the back of the house and stopped dead for a moment when he spotted the police vehicle parked behind his, lights still flashing.

  “Is there a problem, officer?” he asked.

  Standard line, Charlie groaned to himself. Couldn’t someone sometime say something like, “Top O’ the mornin’ to ya, Officer. Great day to go fishin’ if ye’d like ta join me.” Too much to hope for.

  “Is this your vehicle, sir?” Charlie asked, pointing to the SUV.

  “Yes, it is, and I see you’ve caught the perpetrator. How about a quick throw-down to determine liability?”

  Charlie was shocked at the challenge and stepped between the two when he heard Mia laugh.

  “Like I’d really take you on, Mark.”

  “Mark? You two know each other?”

  “Officer Gordon, meet Mark Tomaselli, my real estate agent’s cousin and my boss.”

  “For now,” Mark grinned. “I was just checking out the space, but the house was locked up tight. I did look through the windows, but the basement windows were too low to the ground for me to see much of anything. Lots of space, though.”

  “Thanks, Mark. Oh!” That’s when Mia realized the crime scene tape was down and they’d be able to get inside.

  Mia took off at a run, heading for the porch to peer into the windows herself.

  “Think I should arrest her for leaving the scene of an accident?” Charlie drawled. But his lame joke didn’t stop him from appreciating the tight bottom in snug jeans.

  “Something, isn’t she?” Mark said, not missing the man’s eyes following his best instructor.

  “Yeah,” Charlie nodded. “I mean, you must know her well.”

  “She’s been coming to the dojang since she was ten and I was sixteen. Since my dad owns the place, I already had my black belt, but Mia was so good, I thought she might catch up to me pretty quick. She almost did, but only because it takes four years between each black belt level or Dan.”

  “But she’s an instructor now?”

  “Yes, but she’ll be leaving as soon as she has the basement here set up as her own dojang.”

  “Ambitious.”

  “You’d better believe it. A temper, too, just in case you’re interested.”

  “Who, me?” Charlie jerked around to see Mark looking at him with amused eyes.

  Mia was crawling around the foundation, trying to rub the dirt off the basement windows so she could get a better view. “Everything looks fine,” she yelled with excitement. It felt good just to peek in the windows even though she couldn’t get inside.

  Charlie watched Mia disappear around the back of the house and he was finally able to give his attention to the accident which he should have been doing all along.

  “I don’t think there’s any damage to your vehicle, Mr. Tomaselli,” Charlie began.

  “Mark, please.”

  “Mark. But please check yourself so I can put it in my report.”

  “Sure.” Mark gave the point where the two vehicles touched a cursory glance. No way was he going to find any damage that Mia might have to pay for. She was practically his sister, for heaven’s sake.

  “Nope. No damage.”

  Charlie sighed with relief and then opened an app on his tablet, allowing him to input Mark’s insurance information. He could do the whole report right on the tablet and then download the data directly into the form on the station’s computer. He’d have a printed report in just a few minutes.

  “Here’s the report number if you need a copy of it,” Charlie told Mark, handing him a card with the number written on it. “Give us about an hour or so. I still have to get Ms. Broderick’s info, then drive her home.”

  Mark was about to offer to take Mia home, but then he thought he should give the guy a break. Mia’s life was totally bound up in school, work and this house and she needed a man to shake her up a bit. He didn’t know if Officer Gordon filled the bill, but it was worth a shot.

  Mia was on her cell phone and grinning like a fool when she walked back to the men watching the tow truck hook up her beloved Mini. It certainly wasn’t new. In fact, she’d gotten it second-hand. Probably fourth-hand considering its age. But it was hers and the first car she’d bought with her own money. She’d even named it after her favorite cartoon character. It hurt to see Minnie Mouse being dragged up a ramp and tied down to a flatbed.

  “Sorry, Minnie Mouse,” Mia murmured, oblivious to the officer standing behind her. Mark knew what she called her car, but when she turned and saw the guard dog behind her, she was inexplicably embarrassed.

  “Officer,” she said, frostily.

  “After you talk to the driver,” Charlie said, nodding toward the tow truck, “I need to get your info and your account of what happened.”

  Ignoring the guard dog, Mia turned to her boss, just realizing she’d almost wrecked his brand-new car.

  “Mark,” she groaned, “I am so, so sorry. Is there much damage?”

  “Barely a scratch,” Mark assured her. “In fact, I’m sure Charlie here won’t even be issuing you a ticket.”

  So, Charlie was his name, Mia thought. Ridiculous name for a guard dog. Should be Killer or Brutus or Beast or something.

  “I’ll be heading out,” Mark told Mia, taking her hand and kissing her cheek.

  “Oh, no! I thought you’d …”

  “Not to worry, Mia,” Mark assured her. “Charlie has offered to drive you home and I have to get back to work.”

  Mark shook Charlie’s hand, hopped into his SUV, and before Mia knew it, he was down the street and turning the corner out of sight.

  “Well, I guess it’s just you and me,” Charlie observed, watching the tow truck accelerate slowly down the street. “Want a cup of coffee at the café? Might as well be comfortable while we fill out the report.”

  “Sure,” Mia agreed, still brooding over Mark dumping her on the guard dog like that.

  Charlie smiled, pleased that Mia hadn’t balked at his friendly suggestion.

  “It’ll have to be a quick one, I’m afraid,” he told her. “I have an assignment from the chief and I’m expected in Graceville to start canvassing the outlying residents.”

  “Oh?” Mia perked up. “This wouldn’t be about the lost seniors, would it?” Maybe she could pry a bit of info out of the guard … no, she had to start thinking of him as an officer of the law if she was going to lull him into telling all.

  Charlie was already holding open the door, thinking Mia had reached that conclusion all too quickly. Yes, she was Chief’s stepdaughter, but that didn’t mean he told her everything. Charlie doubted Chief even told everything to her brother, or if he had, some of it was off the record.

  Mia noticed that Officer Gordon … there, that was better … hadn’t answered her question. In fact, he’d actually avoided the question.

  While Mia found them a table, Charlie went up to the counter and got their coffees. No pastries this time. He needed to get back on the road and away from the prying gray eyes of Ms. Mia Broderick.

  “Okay, first t
hings first,” Charlie smiled, laying his uniform cap on the table. “Full name and address.”

  “Mia McKinley Broderick but I thought you had all that from my brother.” Mia couldn’t help but notice that a lock of the guard dog … Officer Gordon’s … sandy blond hair fell casually over his forehead. Mia had always been a sucker for that look but she had to rein herself in if she wanted to get the inside info from the beast … the man.

  “Not your middle name. Family name, is it?” Charlie looked up from his tablet, flashing her a brilliant smile. “I have one of those, too. Charles Flynn Gordon.”

  “I guess it’s a pretty common practice. You know, preserving the mother’s maiden name and all that.”

  “Looks good on the family tree,” Charlie agreed, laughing. It was kind of nice to have something in common with the touchy Ms. Broderick.

  “Address next? And phone number?” Mia asked, anxious to finish the report so she could find out more about Officer Gordon’s assignment.

  “Yes, please,” Charlie nodded, tapping in the info as she spoke.

  “Good. Now, how did this happen, Mia?” He stopped for a moment, immediately aware that he’d slipped and called her by her first name. “May I call you Mia? After all, I did play football with your brother for a couple of years.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Mia’s eyes widened as she finally placed the man. “You were both running backs. They used to call you Speedy and Greedy.”

  “Right. I would get to the quarterback first, getting between whoever was trying to sack him.”

  “Giving time for Greedy to plow into the guy and take him down,” Mia smiled, remembering.

  “Problem was, Mikey usually took me down, too.”

  “Well, we all have our little crosses to bear, Officer Gordon, and between you and my brother, the quarterback usually made his pass unmolested.”

  “Uh-huh,” Charlie agreed rubbing his chest.

  “Also unmolested was the cat who ran out in front of me. I had to swerve to avoid hitting him,” Mia interrupted, getting Charlie back on track.

  “I see,” Charlie nodded, his expression now serious. “Probably an escaped convict. Can you describe this nefarious felon?”

  “Orange and fast,” Mia told him, matching his mock-serious mood.

  “Orange?”

  “Marmalade.”

  “Age? Height? Weight? Can you tell me what the escapee was wearing?”

  “Young, skinny. Hadn’t filled out yet. Wearing … oh, I remember now … a bright blue collar. Clashed horribly with his coloring.”

  “Ah-ha!” Charlie declared triumphantly. “Leo Brewster!”

  “So, he is well known to our ever-vigilant constabulary,” Mia nodded, trying and failing to suppress her giggles.

  “Unfortunately, he is. The little scamp is always escaping Mrs. Brewster’s eagle eye and we get called to find him.”

  Mia’s laughter transformed her whole face, Charlie realized. And it wasn’t a bad face at all. Strong, intelligent, handsome even. Not gorgeous and flamboyant. This tough little Tae Kwon Do black belt, without a scrap of makeup, was making his fingertips tingle. A bad sign. A very bad sign.

  “Sorry to cut this short, but I really have to get going,” he told her abruptly, saving the accident report and shutting down his tablet. “I’ll take you home.”

  Looked like the guard dog was back, Mia frowned.

  “Thanks, but I can see you’re in a hurry to get back to work, Officer Gordon,” Mia replied coolly. “I can walk.”

  He desperately wanted to ask her to call him Charlie, but he could see he’d done an excellent job of shutting her out. And just why had he done that? What was it about this woman that scared him half to death? She was just a woman … barely … and he was a grown man. But he was rattled, and it wouldn’t do to allow his emotions to get between him and the job he was sworn to do.

  “If you’re sure …”

  “I’m sure,” Mia told him firmly, grabbing the messenger bag she’d retrieved from Minnie Mouse and slinging it over her shoulder.

  Mia wasted no time in reaching for the door. She was almost outside when she thought she heard murmuring. She wasn’t positive, but she thought he’d said something like, “Hope Minnie Mouse is okay.” So, maybe, just maybe, Charlie Gordon wasn’t so bad after all.

  Chapter Ten

  Michael shaved and showered in record time, anxious to get back to the dilemma of the lost elders, but his thoughts were never very far away from a certain dark-haired Italian beauty. He could do research with only half his brain engaged, but he hadn’t a clue how to get Annie to forgive him for his rude behavior. She wasn’t the kind to be stood up and then fall all over him with forgiveness when he showed up clutching a few flowers in his hand. No, Anna had always been a smart student and now she was a smart businesswoman. Not that she wasn’t feminine. She certainly was that with softly coiffed hair and discreet make up. She wore business suits, too, but in lush fabrics and striking colors. High heels put her just under his chin; a perfect place for him to rest his head on all that satiny hair.

  Okay, Broderick, he chided himself. Get a grip. Research first … you’ve got a job to do … and then … and then … but Michael was stymied. Dinner, candlelight, flowers … yes, definitely, but how to approach her? That was the problem.

  As soon as Michael hit the keyboard and started checking on Mrs. Findlayson, the light bulb went on in his head. Of course. It was only natural that he would ask Annie to help with the elderly woman after her success with Jane Doe. She’d be only too eager to go with him to speak to her.

  Michael wasn’t about to waste any time with research. He had to talk to Annie before her day got too busy.

  Humming a tune, Michael scrolled through his contact list and hit the call button under her name. This was going to work; he just knew it.

  “Annie, hi! It’s me, Michael.”

  “Huh? Who?”

  “Oh, did I wake you?” Michael asked, feeling he’d already gotten off on the wrong foot.

  “Oh, Michael. Yes. I mean, no it’s okay. I should be up soon anyway.”

  “Sorry. I mean,” he blurted out, cringing at his usual lame apology, “I can call you back later or maybe you should call me or, I have an idea. I’m going to see Mrs. Findlayson this morning and maybe you’d like to come with me.”

  “Can’t, Michael. We’re involved in a business transaction through another agent.”

  “Ah. Conflict of interest. Ethics and all that.”

  “Uh-huh,” Anna yawned. She really needed caffeine if she was going to carry on a coherent conversation this early in the morning.

  “I had hoped,” Michael sighed, “but, hey, how about we meet for lunch and I can fill you in.”

  “Where?”

  “Tony’s by the river. See you there at one, okay?”

  “Okay. Bye,” Anna replied, falling back into bed as soon as she tapped the red button.

  Michael hung up, feeling better than he had since he woke up this morning and realized how badly he’d treated Anna. It was getting to be very important that she think well of him. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t make a fool of himself over lunch.

  * * *

  “Coffee,” Anna muttered, forcing herself to throw off the covers. She shivered when she put her bare feet on the hardwood floor to let the early morning chill begin to wake her up. Letting out her breath, she admitted how much she’d hoped Michael would call and ask her out. That was nice. Very nice. But in order to really appreciate what it meant, Anna knew she needed caffeine and quickly.

  Once Anna had finished the first cup and started on the second, she was able to give Michael’s call some serious thought and put it into perspective. It was only lunch and they’d be discussing his interview with Carla Findlayson, not gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes over crème brulee. Lunch was not a date, but maybe it could be a pre-date.

  Shaking her head, Annie had to laugh at herself. A man like Michael Broderick was nothin
g more than a childish dream to a woman like her. Tall, handsome, a football star and now an investigative reporter. Who was she but little Annie Tomaselli, braniac, wallflower, geek?

  Okay, so now she had mani-pedis, professional haircuts, and wore expensive clothes. She was still that shy, socially awkward teen that she’d been in high school. It wasn’t until her cousin Liza, the fashion queen of the family, had taken her in hand after college that she’d at least looked the part of a successful real estate agent. And thank goodness for that. At least no one had to be embarrassed to be seen with her.

  “And that includes Michael Broderick,” she told the room firmly, hands on hips, sticking her chin in the air. “I’m no longer a teenage mess and if he can’t see that, well, I’ll just make him see it.”

  * * *

  Michael pulled up to the small, attached cottages with neat little gardens in front that comprised the assisted living village in Wynwood Estates. Mrs. Findlayson lived in 4B on Lilac Lane. All the streets were named after flowers or birds, which sounded cheerful, at least. How must it feel to know that this was one of the last stops on the train of life? These elderly residents needed all the cheer they could get.

  Michael had called ahead and was not surprised when the door was opened quickly to his knock. What did surprise him was the middle-aged woman dressed in scrubs who greeted him. She was friendly, but Michael couldn’t help feeling that she was there to protect the elderly resident of Cottage 4B on Lilac Lane.

  “Hello, I’m Michael Broderick,” he smiled extending his hand.

  “Rosemarie Williams.” She shook Michael’s hand but would not smile until she was sure he wasn’t here to exploit her patient. “We are expecting you, but I hope you won’t mind if I ask for your identification.”

  “Not at all.” Michael matched Rosemarie’s serious look as he showed her his license and a business card. “I’m glad to see you’re being careful.”

  “Yes, we’ve always been careful, but since the first abandoned senior was found, we’ve taken double precautions.”