Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (111 page)

“There wasn’t anything left to say.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“And now?”

Regret. And the strong urge to rewind the moment and make the decision
not
to call him at all. And an even stronger urge to purchase and consume an entire bottle of wine once I arrived back home. Or maybe two bottles.

Does every woman feel like this?

“Rusty, you still there?” he said.

“Rusty” had been Elvis’s pet name for actress Ann-Margret Olsson, who supposedly considered Elvis to be the love of her life. Since Nick had felt the same way about me once upon a time, in his mind, the name applied. I never liked it. He didn’t care.

“Please don’t call me that,” I said.

“Why not? You used to love it.”

I sighed.

“Can we get back to the reason I’m calling?”

“It’s still all business with you, isn’t it? It was always hard trying to get you to unwind.”

“What do you know, Nick?”

“Do you even think about me anymore?”

“I haven’t thought about us for months.”

“Why? Because you’re too busy with the suit?”

“Please Nick—just stop. All I care about right now is how you know Mr. Tate.”

“Fine. I was traveling through Jackson Hole last week. I was driving straight through, but I was tired, so I decided to stay the night. I went to some local bar and sat next to your guy.”

“Noah Tate?”

“Obviously.”

“Go on,” I said.

“This Tate guy said his four-year-old daughter had been kidnapped several months earlier. He’d come to the realization he would never see her again and had decided to kill himself and his wife.”

“Wow,” I said. “He left that part out of the conversation. At least he didn’t do it.”

“Don’t get too relieved, he almost did. He said he was loading the gun when his wife came in with an envelope addressed to the two of them. He opened it and found some paper inside he claims is from his missing daughter.”

“And?”

“At first I thought he was crazy. I didn’t care if he was drunk or sober. I couldn’t understand why he’d tell that kind of thing to someone he’d just met.”

“So you thought the guy was a lunatic, and yet you gave him my card?” I said.

“I told him I’d left something in my truck and snuck away so I could check out his story. Turned out, it was true. I did a search on my phone. There were photos all over the Internet of Tate, his wife, and their missing daughter. I gave him your card because from what Tate led me to believe, he doesn’t trust the police.”

“Yeah, I got that impression too,” I said.

“I’ve dealt with guys like him before—they all have the same glossed-over look in their eyes. This one’s teetering on the edge. He’s unpredictable, and I thought if anyone could help him, it’s you.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “You always hated what I did for a living.”

“Still do. But no matter what I think, you’ll keep doing it anyway.”

“So you thought why not throw me a bone?” I said.

“Look, I genuinely question Tate’s sanity. But I thought if you looked into the kidnapping, it might give him something to live for—buy the guy and his wife some time before it’s too late.”

CHAPTER SIX

Maddie sat on the couch with my very tired westie, Lord Berkeley, a.k.a. Boo, asleep in her lap. “Still no answer?”

“I’ve been calling him for three days now. The phone goes straight to voicemail every time.”

Maddie squinted.

“You ever have this problem with Giovanni before?”

“Never. We’ve been dating for several months now, and this is the longest we’ve gone without talking to each other.”

“Hmm. When was the last time you heard from him?”

“He called me a few days ago, saying he had some kind of urgent business to attend to in New York City. But ever since he left, I haven’t heard a word—no text, no phone call, nothing. That’s not a relationship. Not to me.”

“Maybe he’s in trouble,” Maddie said.

I shook my head. “Giovanni is the type of person who starts trouble and then later ends it.”

Maddie smacked me on the shoulder. “You’re still hung up on the whole ‘mafia’ thing, aren’t you?”

“It’s not a ‘thing,’ Maddie, it’s real. Just because he refuses to talk to me about it doesn’t make it any different.”

“But you’ve never actually seen him involved in any mafia activity, so how do you know exactly what the guy does?”

“Of course I have,” I said. “He just thinks I have no idea what anyone is talking about.”

I stared at the lake outside my bedroom window, wishing I could climb onto my inflatable raft and fall asleep under the watchful eye of the afternoon sun.

“I’m leaving for a few days,” I said.

“What—when?”

“Tomorrow morning. I took a new case yesterday.”

Maddie pushed her elbows into the comforter on my bed, propping her hands onto her cheeks. Boo slid off of her and onto one of my pillows. “Where are you off to?”

“Wyoming,” I said.

She laughed.

“You’re joking.”

“All you need is a business license.”

“What’s the case?”

“A kidnapping. Two kids.”

She opened my nightstand drawer and rifled around.

“I don’t have any gum in there,” I said.

She frowned and shut the drawer. “How old are these kids?”

“The first one was six when she was kidnapped, so she’d be eight now,” I said. “And the other is four.”

“No wonder you took the case. How could anyone say no to a couple of missing kids?”

“The police don’t have a lot of evidence from what I understand.”

“How long have they been missing?”

“The older one was taken two years ago, and the younger one, six months ago.”

“Mmmph,” Maddie said. “I don’t like those odds. You know you have almost no chance of finding them alive.”

“I know, but I have to at least try,” I said. “One piece of evidence has been nagging at me. Both parents received a coloring page in the mail leading them to believe it came from their child.”

Maddie made a face like she’d just bit into something sour. “What a cruel thing to do.”

“I don’t know what to make of it yet, but my client is convinced the coloring page was drawn by his daughter.”

“Why would someone take a person’s child and then send them reminders of it? Was there a ransom?”

I shook my head.

“There’s been no other contact with the parents of either child other than the one coloring page they each received in the mail,” I said. “I’ve been going over it all day, trying to figure out why a person with no ulterior motive would take the time to send it at all.”

“And what did you come up with?”

“There’s only one motive that comes to mind: guilt.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Instead of calling Giovanni again the next morning, I tried my luck with his right-hand man, Lucio. He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Sloane.”

“I need to talk to Giovanni,” I said. “I’ve been calling for a few days.”

“Boss can’t talk right now. He’s in an important meetin’. Said to tell you he should be home soon.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh and uh, one more thing—he said not to worry. He’ll explain everything later.”

“He’s too busy to send a text?” I said. “It’s been four days, Lucio. What’s going on?”

“Don’t get all bent, Sloane.”

“I’m not,” I said.

“Sure sounds like it. Things here are, ahh, complicated at the moment.”

How complicated could they possibly be?

I sat there trying to decide whether it was worth saying something I might regret later. It probably was, but I stayed quiet.

“Sloane, you still there?”

“I’m here,” I said.

“Want me to give the boss a message for you?”

“Yes. Tell him I won’t be around when he gets back in town.”

“Why? Where you goin’?”

“Just tell Giovanni not to worry, okay?” I said. “If he can explain everything later, so can I.”

I pressed the end button on my cell phone and sent it to voicemail when Lucio called back. I zipped my suitcase closed and looked around for Lord Berkeley who’d been MIA for the last half hour. The dog had good instincts. He knew whenever I put my shoes on, I was leaving. Combine that with packing a bag, it usually meant he was going to a sitter for a few days, something he didn’t particularly like.

I called Lord Berkeley’s name out several times, but the only response I got was a room full of silence. There was only one thing to do. I walked to my front door, opened it, and knocked. Boo scampered around the corner in full alert mode, teeth clenched, growling at the door. It worked every time.

“Let’s go for a ride,” I said.

He gave me a look that said, Listen lady, I know what the word ‘ride’ means. And I’m not going to no sitter.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can come with me this time.”

He didn’t understand, but when he spotted the bag of dog treats I rattled around in my hand, it no longer mattered.

I heard a noise behind me that sounded like someone roller blading on the pavement. I turned around, facing the blonde, pigtailed woman in front of me.

“All ready to go,” Maddie said.

“Umm, what are you talking about?”

She smacked me on the arm. “I’m your plus one.”

“I already have a ‘plus one,’” I said, pointing at Lord Berkeley.

“Oh, come on. You’re such a stiff sometimes,” she said. “I need a vacation, and you’re going somewhere I haven’t been before, so I figured I’d tag along and keep you company. Besides, if I don’t go, you’ll just call me with a bunch of questions anyway. You always do.”

I walked past her.

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” Maddie said.

I turned, looking her in the eye.

“I’m looking for missing children this time, not dead bodies. At least, I am hoping it won’t come to that.”

“Just because you
think
you’re better on your own, doesn’t mean you are. How many people in your line of work can say they have a medical examiner at their disposal?”

“Will it matter if I say no?” I said.

Maddie smiled, knowing she’d won. Not many people did with me. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll stay out of your way.”

I glanced at the cut-off denim shorts and pointy boots she was wearing and somehow didn’t believe a word of it. “What’s with the outfit?”

“You said Wyoming, right?”

“Yeah—but not Wyoming streetwalker.”

She tossed her head back and laughed.

“I bet half the girls in the state dress like this. You’ll see.”

Four hours and one pit stop later, we pulled into a three-star hotel on the outskirts of town.

Maddie stuck her bottom lip out like a child who’d just been told there wouldn’t be any dessert tonight. “Where are we?”

“Pinedale,” I said.

“I thought we were going to Jackson Hole?”

“We are, but I want to look around here first.”

“Why?”

“This is where the first kidnapping took place,” I said.

“But the guy who hired you was from the second kidnapping, right?”

I nodded.

“Going to Jackson right now would be like crossing the finish line before starting the race,” I said. “I need to start at the beginning, where it all happened.”