Upstairs, he slipped the key in and unlocked the door.
“Elizabeth!”
No response. He rushed into the bedroom. Her clothes and purse were gone: no trace of Elizabeth existed. Nick gave his eyes a good rub, wondering if he had missed something. He hadn’t, and felt a sense of dread.
He’d been warned. Yes, warned, but he believed the call was a prank, and now Elizabeth was gone.
He sat on the bed, stared at his twisted face in the mirror, and shook his head. Was she abducted? Or did she get cold feet? He hoped the second, though he would have sorely misjudged her.
He put his head in his hands. And what about the cryptic message from the deli? What patient?
What to do?
He pulled back the sheets from the bed. There were no traces of her on her side. He breathed in the sheets for her scent, searched for signs of…their sex. Nothing. Could he have imagined her?
A normal response was to call the police, but would he be overreacting? After all, it was possible Elizabeth had just decided to leave. Then why would she ask him to pick up the newspaper? A small nuance, perhaps, but…
Nick ran to his computer. He turned it on and watched it make its way to the screen setting, then checked for recent browser history. Nothing from today.
He raked his hair. How would he explain her sudden disappearance to the police? It was just over an hour since he’d left for the deli. “Officer, there was a blonde in my bed this morning, and she disappeared when I went out for eggs Florentine.”
Not good, not good at all.
Three
Fort Lauderdale
A day had passed since Elizabeth disappeared from Nick Ross’s condo. He was beside himself, constantly checking the local news for crimes in his area. None suggested anything close to a missing person, or kidnapping or, God forbid, murder.
Walking aimlessly around his apartment, he stopped in the kitchen and removed a prescription pill bottle from a drawer. He popped a Xanax in his mouth to take the edge off, then went back inside, wondering if he had imagined Elizabeth. After all, there was nothing in his apartment to suggest she or anyone else had been there. He pushed himself to wait.
For what? Elizabeth to call and apologize? Sorry, Nick, the sex was great, but I have to move on. Nothing personal.
A ridiculous thought. What concerned him was the phone call. Or rather two. One at home, the other at the deli. Whoever called—probably the same person both times—wanted him out of the apartment. Why? To harm Elizabeth?
Nick didn’t believe that, because when he returned from the deli there were no signs of a break-in or a struggle. So, he held off going to the authorities for one more day.
Another thought. This one remained sensitive, and one Nick dare not address. He’d had romantic dreams about a very attractive patient. They felt life-like. Could…Elizabeth have been just a dream? He pushed the prospects of that theory back in his psychological drawer. Otherwise, going to the police would only invite an investigation. Perhaps, after discovering nothing, the cops would determine that the good shrink needed a shrink. Or worse…another reason to hold off going to the police.
Exhausted, Nick decided to call his mother, Angie. She’d been his rock and source of security and stability over the years. She was also a good listener, never judgmental. She knew about her son’s former patient’s suicide while under his care and believed that final act weighed heavily on his psyche. What she didn’t know, because he never told her, was his desire for another patient—which he kept in check. It was perhaps this sacrosanct relationship that brought out romantic dreams. Hence Elizabeth.
His nervous finger punched in his mother’s number.
“Nick, I was just thinking of you. How’s my son today?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“You guess? You don’t know? The sun is shining. You should be outside—”
“I need your advice.”
“Oh, sure. Does it have to do with a recipe?”
Nick rambled into the phone, letting the past few days take over his anxiety.
“Nick, hold on a moment. What’s this about a missing woman?”
Nick continued at a slower pace, and when he finished, his mother said, “Son, I know you’ve been through a lot lately. Are you sure about what happened?” Her voice was tender.
“That she was here in my apartment? Yes, of course. You don’t think I’m imagining her, do you?”
She held off a moment, and Nick realized his mother had doubts.
“Mom, I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say that, but between the past horrible events and your meds, maybe you had a dream. A good dream perhaps until…”
“It wasn’t like that,” he argued, trying to be convincing. “I would know if it was a dream. Elizabeth was real.”
“Okay, I believe you. So, what do you want to do? Call the police? That might prove to be—”
“A mistake? I realize that, but I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“Let me think a moment. Okay, I have an idea. Call your cousin, JR. He’s a New York City cop. I’m sure he’s seen all kinds of crime. He’ll help.”
“Mom, JR’s a homicide detective. He deals with murders. This is different.”
“He’s still a cop. I’m sure he’ll figure it out without you having to go to the local authorities, at least for the time being. After all, there’s nothing in your apartment to suggest anyone had been there besides you, including this Elizabeth woman. All I’m saying is JR is smart.”
Nick knew his mother was concerned for his mental health and afraid he might be going off the deep end.
Was he?
Four
Nick hadn’t spoken to his cousin, JR, in over a year. How would it look if he suddenly called and asked for advice? This advice? JR would probably think he had to listen to reason, that it was a great romantic evening and nothing more.
Still, he was desperate and finally built up courage to call. At first, it was about the family, which, since they were both only children, didn’t amount to much conversation.
“Your mother is okay, right, Nick?”
“She’s fine. She suggested I give you a call.” He paused. “I know we don’t communicate very often, and quite honestly, I feel weird calling you about something like this, but—”
“Nick, we’re family. What’s going on?”
With that, Nick ran through the incident as though his life depended on it.
“Nick, slow down. I’m not going anywhere. Start over and slowly.”
“Sorry, I’m nervous. Okay, a woman disappeared from my condo yesterday morning after I received a crazy phone call.”
“You mean poof, just like that?”
Nick went on about the call, the deli, and finally, Elizabeth disappearing when he returned.
“This is bad, JR. I’ve been debating whether to go to the police. I mean, what if…”
“Whoa, hold off a second. I know you’re anxious to find out what happened to her, and it’s been a little over twenty-four hours, but let’s talk this through. Let’s say this Elizabeth woman was snatched from your apartment; there would more than likely be signs of foul play. Are there any?”
Nick gave his place a quick look as though maybe the place had changed in minutes. “No, but…”
“Okay, that’s good. Because if there was blood or a broken something or other, I’d definitely recommend calling the police.”
“Elizabeth was real, JR, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Nick, I’m not suggesting anything at this point. All I’m saying is there’s probably a good reason she’s gone. Maybe she got an emergency call and left in a hurry. Does she have your phone number?”
“We hadn’t exchanged numbers at that point.”
“Okay, fair enough.”
“How did you and Elizabeth get back to your place?”
“She followed me home. Hold on.” Nick raced for the living room window and shot a look be
low for the umpteenth time. “By car, but it’s no longer here.”
“Makes sense. I don’t suppose you got her plate number?”
When Nick didn’t respond, JR said, “Didn’t think so. I mean, I wouldn’t have either. Look, she probably just took off. These things happen. They call it cold feet.”
“I know what they call it, JR, but it wasn’t that!”
“Okay, take it easy. Is anything missing from your apartment?”
“She isn’t like that,” he defended.
“Humor me, Nick.”
He crossed the room, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a small, black leather jewelry box. He removed a couple of vintage watches, a gold coin, and a wedding band, which he gazed at for a moment then returned the items and shrugged. “Nothing is missing.” He turned to his laptop on the table and pointed. “Including my computer.”
Apparently, she isn’t a thief. “You said you met her at Courtney’s. Did anyone see you? Friends, I mean?”
Nick tried to remember, but he was so into Elizabeth. “A few, but we just waved.”
“That’s a start. Check with them, ask if they remember seeing Elizabeth. Or maybe they remember seeing her on another night. Hell, ask the bartender.”
“What for? I told you she was there. They would just confirm that I was with her.”
“Okay, just following through. Remember, I’m a cop.”
“Sorry. At Courtney’s, Elizabeth told me she was new to the area and was staying with her sister a few miles north. She was restless and decided to go out. She parked near Las Olas Boulevard, in the downtown area, and walked a bit. She stopped in front of Courtney’s and looked inside. Something inside her head pushed her to go inside. When I mentioned that I decided to go out at the last minute, she called it kismet.”
“Right, kismet. Maybe she just needed a place to sleep. It happens sometimes.”
“Come on, JR, for a night of sex and little sleep? I don’t think so. Besides, why would she go through the trouble of having someone call and threaten me? She could have left anytime. It’s not like she was a prisoner. Hell, her sister lives near the place.”
“Okay, good answer.”
“And what about the crazy call at the deli? Makes no sense. I think she’s in some kind of trouble. Maybe an ex-boyfriend is stalking her and found her here.”
“And just happened to know your name and cell number? Doubt it, unless he works for the NSA?” JR laughed.
“Not funny.”
“How about this? What if someone called Elizabeth after you left your place, and they worked up a scheme to call the deli?”
Nick sighed. “Again, for what reason? I told you nothing was taken.”
JR thought a moment. “And this has never happened to you before?”
When Nick didn’t reply, JR pressed, “Has it?”
“It’s not what you think.”
Five
Long Island, New York
My cell trilled, and I smiled at the number. JR Greco, my good friend and New York City’s finest senior homicide detective.
“Hank, I’m calling to see if you’ve settled in yet.”
“I just finished my first case. Less than six hours. I hope they’re all this fast.”
JR laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. So, you don’t have a second gig lined up, I’m guessing.”
“Not yet.”
“Good, then I have one for you.”
“Seriously?”
“Did you enjoy Fort Lauderdale when you took off to find a killer in Bimini?”
“You’re kidding, right? I never left the terminal.”
“Now’s your chance. How about helping a cousin of mine? He’s a nice guy, a shrink. Yes, we have one in the family.” He chuckled. “Unlike John Hunter, in a prior case, he’s alive. I promised him I’d find someone to help. You were the first to come to mind.”
“How many private investigators do you know, JR?”
“Just you.” A laugh. “I don’t think it’ll take too long. It’s about a woman.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“I haven’t seen my cousin in over a year. We aren’t very close. I mean, I have nothing against the guy, but we’re both very busy. And it’s not like we live around the corner from each other. He’s been living in Fort Lauderdale for years. What I’m saying is I can’t vouch for the guy.”
“Okay. You said something about a woman.”
“Right. A woman he met at a bar went missing. They had sex, she stayed over, and then he went out to bring back breakfast, and when he returned, she’d disappeared.”
“Maybe she got cold feet. It happens, you know.”
“That’s what I told him. Only, it’s a bit more complicated. Like maybe he thought he met her and…”
“Delusional?”
“I didn’t say that, but after I spoke to Nick, I called my aunt—they’re very close. I told her about our conversation—within limits, and she admitted that Nick has been having nightmares recently. Sometimes he can’t distinguish between them and reality. Again, this is my aunt talking. She told me about a few recent tragedies in his life, and quite frankly, if they happened to me, I would’ve lost my mind already. Anyway, she’s concerned he might be losing his.” He paused. “She’s happy Nick contacted me and that I would help.”
“Jesus, JR, it sounds like your cousin needs a shrink. I’m not a shrink.”
“I know, but maybe you can look around, check with the bartender, anything that might help my cousin come to terms with this woman’s disappearance, assuming she exists. Like I said, a quick visit might put my aunt at ease.”
“Yeah, but if I come up with nothing, your cousin might not believe me. Then what?”
“I really don’t know, but I told him to hold off calling the cops, at least,
until you had a chance to figure out what’s going on. Make sense?”
“I agree,” I said, rubbing my chin. I turned on the car heater and thought of Fort Lauderdale. Hell, the temperature this time of year was probably in the seventies. Beats ten degrees in New York.
“Good.”
“I can fly down in a day or two.”
“Thanks, he’s expecting you tomorrow.”
“You devil.”
“Look at it as a paid vacation. Hell, if I were a PI, I’d go myself.”
“Don’t con me, JR. Okay, I’ll need a bit more information. What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Nick Ross.”
Six
Nick insisted on picking me up at the Jet Blue terminal at Fort Lauderdale International. The place was busy, with cars and taxis dropping off and picking up passengers. I assumed most snowbirds had already arrived in December or earlier, because most passengers looked too young to be retired. I had texted Nick a photo of me—the best selfie I could find in my photo file, and he identified his car as a blue late-model Chevy Cruze.
When I reached the street, I removed my coat and greeted the late-morning sunshine. Welcome to Florida.
Perfect timing. Nick was just pulling up when I flagged him down with a wave. His passenger-side window was down, and he waved back. I guess the photo I texted did me justice. I tossed my carry-on in the back seat, then opened the front door.
“Hey,” I said with a smile. “Hank Reed.”
He shoved his thin hand my way and we shook quickly. “Nick Ross.”
I jumped in and he took off like the terminal had the plague.
“Hope you had a pleasant flight,” he said rather indifferently, as though he had more on his mind than my comfort. He kept his eyes on the cars in front as we passed a few terminal buildings. It reminded me of a procession.
“Not bad, but hey, it was worth leaving New York this time of year.”
He continued driving without responding. When we reached the airport exit and turned north onto Federal Highway, he said, “Sorry, I hate airports.”
I nodded. “Know what you mean. So, Nick, can I call you Nick?”
�
��Please do. And Hank is good?”
“I go by no other name. In the past, I went by Detective occasionally, but that seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Good timing for me, you opening a PI business. I hope I did the right thing hiring you.” He stopped. “Sorry, what I meant was maybe I should have gone to the police first.” He half-turned my way and shrugged. “But JR assured me you were the best at what you do, so I’m taking a chance on delaying the inevitable.”
“Which is?”
“Going to the police. Sorry, it’s been very stressful.”
“I totally get it, and, if at any time, you’ve had enough of my face, just tell me. I don’t get hurt very easily. I’m sure after we discuss the events and look around, I’ll be able to make a calculated decision as to how to proceed. I don’t believe in staying beyond my worth. Okay?”
He nodded. “And as far as your fee, just let me know when you want to get paid.”
“We’ll discuss all that later. First, let’s find Elizabeth,” I encouraged him.
Nick nodded again, then wiped his forehead. He had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and was clearly anxious. “Thanks.” He checked the car clock. “It’s lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
“Only if you are. I’d rather get started right away. How about we go to your place and I have a look around? I’ll need as much information as possible regarding what happened, starting when you met Elizabeth. Describe her to me.”
He sighed. “She’s beautiful, model-like, with strawberry-blonde hair. I wish I had a picture.”
I liked that he spoke of Elizabeth in the present tense. “That’s okay for now.”
Nick pulled up to his seven-story brick and mortar condo building and turned off the engine. “We’re home.” He attempted a smile, but I could see from his weary look that the past few days had taken a toll on him.
“Nice area.”
Nick nodded, took a breath. “I’m glad you’re here, Hank. It’s been hell. I just want to find her, see that she’s okay.” And with that, he blurted out, in detail, the two crazy phone calls he received the morning of Elizabeth’s disappearance.
The Edge of Murder (A Hank Reed Mystery, Book 3) Page 2
