She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Vince moves aside and I drag Jack into their cozy home. In many ways, Vince still embraces his heritage, even though he will deny it. Stacy has decorated to subtly remind Vince of the old country while still keeping things fresh – at least as fresh as Vince’s Bohemian lifestyle will allow. Stacy has brightened their home with festive curtains and chair throws that reflect the colors of Italy. Her walls are highlighted by modern art, family photos, and candle sconces. In the living room, a large dream catcher, blue in color, hangs in the corner behind Vince’s old brown recliner. A small table separates the recliner from a beige colored sectional sofa. The table holds a Tiffany-style lamp and two sweaty ice tea glasses. On the end of the sectional closest to the table lies a book, The Time Traveler's Wife, and a multi-colored afghan. Across the room is an old console TV that also houses an AM radio and a functioning turntable. I know that it is the same one they’ve owned since before Brandy was born, but it is in excellent shape – mostly because they seldom watch TV, but also because Vince was a TV repairman before he became a DJ at the Oldies station – but that’s another story entirely.
Stacy leads us into the dining room, and the Italian décor is really prevalent here. The centerpiece of the room is a rustic farmhouse table – with leaves that pull out to make it large enough for a houseful of family and friends to dine together. Along one wall is a matching China cabinet with glass doors. Both the cabinet and the table had belonged to Vince’s grandmother. She had received them as a wedding gift from her papa, and then she had presented them to Vince and Stacy when they married. The walls of this room are terra cotta, and minimally adorned. A dark wood wine cabinet is situated across the room from the China cabinet, and it is filled with several bottles of wine. A bar separates the dining room from the kitchen, and the air in both rooms is filled with a savory aroma. Amazingly, Vince’s kitchen has none of the dirty pans and utensils that I expect to see. Brandy has told me more than once that he is fastidious about a clean kitchen, so as he cooks, he also cleans up. He is truly amazing.
“Sit down,” Vince says to Jack. I can tell Vince is still wary, but being rude goes against his nature. Next, Vince pulls out a seat for me. “It’s not cannelloni but I guess it will do,” I tell him.
“Cannelloni, no. Cannoli, yes – for dessert, of course,” Vince replies. “And you will love the carbonara. Trust me. It may become your favorite.”
“It all sounds delicious,” Jack comments.
“Humph!” Vince says and he heads into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, he’ll come around,” I assure Jack.
I notice Destiny standing in the doorway. She would love to join us, but Vince doesn’t allow her to come into the dining room or the kitchen. After she takes in the wonderful smells, she retreats to the living room and lies down on her doggy bed in the corner. I can see her from my seat, and every once in a while she looks up at me and wags her tail. She is the most sweet, lovable, well-behaved dog that I’ve ever known. Such an improvement over Mrs. Bojangles and her bad attitude.
Vince brings in the food while Stacy sets the table. Vince serves the spaghetti alla carbonara right away because it is hot. We are also served a fresh salad with Vince’s freshly made secret recipe Italian dressing. The carbonara is delicious, but then it does have bacon in it. I understand why this is one of Brandy’s favorite meals. After we finish off the carbonara, Vince brings in the cannoli. I can almost see Jack’s mouth watering. He’s barely said anything throughout the meal, just an occasional “This is delicious,” or “Thank you,” and once he said, “Mr. Moretti, you are a wonderful chef.” The cannoli are, of course, outstanding. As far as I know, Vince has never made a single meal that was less than perfect.
“So,” Vince says as we sit letting our meal settle, “Why do you think Brandy is in trouble? She is a big girl and she can take care of herself.”
“She hasn’t missed a weekend with me in years, so it is extremely odd that she hasn’t been around.”
“You don’t think she’s just hiding out because of what’s his name here?” Vince points to Jack.
“My name is Jack.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Vince says sarcastically. Then he says to me, “Did she show up at work today?”
I felt like a lightning bolt had just struck my head. I’d forgotten that Brandy would have to work today. What with daddy closing the shop and Jack hanging around, I’d completely forgotten to call her workplace. “Oh my gosh! I need to call her boss. Do you have his number, Vince?”
Stacy answers. “I have it. Let me give him a call.” She excuses herself from the table and goes into the back of the house. After a brief interlude, she returns looking a little worried. “She called in this morning and asked for a few days off. She said it was an emergency. Of course Mr. Carlson was agreeable, but he was also concerned. He said Brandy was very vague about what the emergency was. Just that it had something to do with that weekend when her car was vandalized. Mr. Carlson thought that maybe she had to testify in court or something and just didn’t want to discuss it. Where in the world has Brandy gone and what is she up to?”
Now Jack seems more concerned than before. “Maybe it’s time I call in a favor. I know a couple of local deputies. Maybe they can do something. I’m not here in any official capacity – just following a lead as we say – so I can’t ask them to put out an APB on her unless we really feel she’s in danger. They can’t consider her missing either since she called her workplace this morning. By the time she’s considered missing, there may be a hurricane beating down on us. Mr. Moretti, could you make sure Alicia gets home safely? I’m going to head to the sheriff’s office to put this plan into action.”
“Of course I’ll take Alicia home. Mister…um…Jack, will you keep us informed about our girl? She’s all we have in this world...,” Vince was on the brink of breaking down.
“You know I will, Mr. Moretti. As soon as I’ve learned anything, I’ll let you and your wife know.”
Stacy and Vince thank Jack, and then Jack leaves. I wish I could go with him, but I know that is impossible. I’m amazed that I’ve totally changed my opinion of Jack DeVries in such a short time. He is actually starting to grow on me.
Vince drives me home, and another day ends without any word from Brandy.
The next morning I find that Hurricane Ivan moved into the Gulf while I was sleeping. The storm has now turned north, and predictions put it making landfall the next day somewhere near our area. The good news is that Ivan has been downgraded to a category four. At its peak intensity (on the previous Sunday while Mom and I had shopped for supplies), the winds had reached 274 mph making it a category five and earning Ivan the title as the sixth most intense Atlantic hurricane on record. Finding Brandy is suddenly becoming more urgent.
Jack calls to say that his buddies are on the lookout for Brandy. He wants to know if he can come over and of course I say yes. I get the idea that he’s interested in me, and I like this idea. But all that has to take second place to finding Brandy.
Dad comes over before Jack arrives. He and Mom are in panic mode. They are worried about each other, about me, and about our homes. If they knew I was planning on driving around with Jack again, they would probably tie me to a chair or something. In order to keep the plan from Dad, I tell him that he should probably get some more gasoline for the generator. He already has several five gallon tanks of gas, but at my suggestion, he says that it wouldn’t hurt to get a little bit more – just in case. Soon he is out of my hair and on his way to the gas station. If I know my Pensacola neighbors, Dad will be stuck at the gas station for hours. Everyone in town is gassing up in preparation for the worst. Unfortunately, most of them won’t decide to leave until shortly before the storm hits and then they’ll be in bumper to bumper traffic for hours. Not to mention that they will have to drive pertinear to Kentucky to find an empty motel room. But at least in Kentucky, folks will know what “pertinear” means.
Jack ar
rives right after Dad drives away. Mom must still be in the house – probably scattering tea leaves on the floor to ward away the hurricane. With Mom, you could never be sure. Before she shows her face and tells me I need to fill my bathtub with water or something, Jack and I drive away. Jack fills me in on what he’s learned since the night before. What he tells me scares me more than any hurricane could: one of the deputies found Brandy’s purse in a garbage bin. Fortunately, Brandy’s body was not in the bin with her purse, but this still seems like bad news. I say a silent prayer that Brandy is alive and well and that this whole thing is just a stunt on her part. And if my prayer is answered, I’ll kill her myself for making everyone worry so much. As her best friend, I’m entitled.
I’m really not hungry, but Jack insists that we get some breakfast. I’m beginning to think that he likes food as much as I do. He pulls into Denny’s. Before we get out, I grab his arm. “Jack, do you think Brandy is just hiding from you? You don’t really think someone has kidnapped her or something?”
“I’m sure she’s just fine. If I had any fear that she was in danger, you’d be back at your house and I’d be heading up a team to find her. I don’t know what she’s up to, but I do believe she’s carrying out some plan. I don’t see anything that points to foul play.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t know what I would do if I lost Brandy.”
Jack smiles. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat, and then I’ll check in with my friend. I’m sure we’ll be finding her soon.”
After we have our breakfast, Jack calls his friend on his cell phone. I’m unable to hear the conversation because Jack walks away from me. I think he’s trying to protect me in case there is bad news. I’m still not convinced that Brandy has implemented this whole charade by herself. I’m not even sure it is a charade. She might actually be in trouble.
I get into Jack’s car to further ponder the situation. I worry that I’ve been too wrapped up in my attraction to Jack and that I’ve not spent the proper effort on finding Brandy. Jack is still on his cell phone. He looks serious and I hope he isn’t getting bad news. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to Brandy.
Finally, Jack is coming to the car. He’s moving pretty fast and my fears increase tenfold. I feel like my breakfast is going to come back on me. Jack slides into the car and says, “I’ve got to take you home. Something has come up.”
“It’s Brandy, isn’t it? They’ve found her body…,” I sob loudly.
Jack looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “Where did you get that idea? I told you that I’m sure Brandy is fine. This is about a lead on Adam Considine. My partner, Tom Fitch, found out that he’s been hiding out in a motel in Raleigh, NC. We had already checked with his parents who live in neighboring Cary, but they told us they hadn’t seen him in months. This didn’t ring true, so Tom stayed in Cary this week while I came down here. It paid off. Tom was watching the Considine’s house, and he got a glimpse of Adam’s sports car in the garage this morning – the same sports car that was sitting in long term parking at the Raleigh-Durham airport on the day Perry was killed. After questioning Adam’s mother again, she finally admitted that Adam had been staying at a motel a few miles away. Unfortunately, he’d checked out early last Friday morning…”
“So now you’re going to run off after Adam? What about Brandy? She’s still missing…I was right about you all along. You weren’t concerned about Brandy – you just want to solve your case…”
“Yes, I want to solve this case – that’s my job. But I’m not leaving. Don’t you see the timeline here? Considine left Friday morning – Brandy goes missing Friday night. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Before I can respond, Jack backs out of the parking spot and then drives out into traffic on Mobile Highway. He heads towards Myrtle Grove. We’ll be at my house in just a few short minutes. I try to take in everything he’s just said, but I’m way too angry with him to concentrate. “So, if your partner…”
“Tom,” Jack says.
“Yes, Tom. I got that before. So, if Tom had told you Adam was still in North Carolina, would you be headed back up there?”
“No, of course not.” I allow myself to relax. Maybe Jack is the man I’ve come to believe he is. But then he adds, “I’d head back to Gulfport. Tom can get all the help he needs from the local police to apprehend Adam. In the time it would take me to drive back home, Tom and Adam would almost be back to the sheriff’s office…”
I can’t believe how angry this makes me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry in my life. Mostly because Jack has just admitted that he would leave without locating Brandy, but also because I have been stupid enough to believe that Jack is a good man. Stupid enough to think I might be falling in love with him.
“You, jerk!” I yell. “You don’t give two shakes about Brandy unless she can lead you to Adam. And you think even less of me… You’ve just been using me these last few days – hoping I will somehow luck out and find Brandy at a place you would never think to look. I guess you think you’re smart, making me think you were concerned about Brandy and that you cared about me. You must think I’m an easy mark. And I guess you are right.”
I expect him to try and convince me that he is a good guy. He could easily say that the local authorities would continue the search for Brandy if he left. Instead, he laughs! “Alicia, you are an easy mark – but that’s not what I’ve been doing. Yes, I did think that you were my best hope at finding Brandy, and I would have been a fool to not take advantage of that. And you are sort of batty, in a malapropistic sort of way. But I really wasn’t just using you. You’re a really fun person to be with, and it was easy to be with you while I tried to locate Brandy. I’d kind of hoped that we might keep in touch once I went back home…”
I am deeply wrinkled – wait, that should be rankled – by what he is saying. I am speechless – afraid to speak in case I say something stupid. How was I ever attracted to this fluff? Fuzz, I mean fuzz. Whatever malapropistic means, I’m sure I’d exhibit tons of it if I had to speak right now.
Jack pulls into my driveway. “No hard feelings?” he asks sheepishly. Oh my gosh, is that the right word or not? I’ll never be able to speak correctly again.
I practically jump out of the car before it has come to a complete stop and I slam the door in Mr. Gigantic Mel Gibson’s face. I should have known I could never trust anyone that looks like Mel Gibson. I’m sure he has women chasing him all over Mississippi, and I never stood a chance. I should have stuck with Rick Hartwood. At least he was a real star. And he never tried to hide the fact that he was a jerk. Not that he was ever a jerk to me. Oh crap! What am I doing? If Brandy or someone else could hear my thoughts, they’d really believe I was hung up on Rick. I finally reach the door to my apartment. Just before entering, I take one last look in Jack’s direction. He’s out of the car looking at me, but he isn’t moving in my direction. He waves pitifully, but I just turn and go inside, eager to put my front door between him and me.
I plop down on my sofa and proceed with my pity party. I still don’t know where Brandy is, but she isn’t on my mind at the moment. I’ve settled down enough that I’m no longer mangling the English language, but I’m still very keyed up. I can’t stop kicking myself for letting Jack get to me. Most of all, I’m angry that I trusted him based solely on his good looks. Yes, he started being persuasively polite after that first night, but I had already decided to trust him before that happened. Worse still, if he had tried to charm the pants off of me and get me into bed, I would have been more than willing. What an idiot I am.
Again, my thoughts turn to Rick, but I don’t know why. Sure, Rick is funny and cute, and he understands me in a way no one else ever has. But he is also conceited and a womanizer. He probably doesn’t even know how many hundreds of women he’s slept with in his life. He can’t be trusted. And yet, I believe I trust him more that I trust Jack DeVries. In spite of everything, Rick has never lied to me, as far as I know.
I wrestle with all of this for a long while, until sleep overtakes me. The couch isn’t as cozy as my bed, so my sleep is fitful and uncomfortable. The ringing phone pulls me out of a dreadful dream which I thankfully can’t remember. I get up so I can look at the caller ID. The call is from Jack’s phone number, so I refuse to answer. After five rings, my machine picks up, “You’ve reached my voicemail! Leave me a message! BEEP.”
Jack says, “Alicia, I know you are there. Come on, pick up the phone.” He pauses to give me an opportunity to answer, but I let the opportunity pass me by. “Damn, Alicia. I just want to apologize. Call me when you’ve calmed down and thought about this rationally.” He hangs up. I hope he doesn’t hold his breath while he waits for me to call him back. Oh wait – yes I do.
As I start to go back to the couch, I notice that the red light is flashing “2”. Apparently, someone else has left me a message. I press the play button and Brandy’s voice comes out of the machine. “Crap! I hate these things. Alicia, I really need to talk to you. Can you call me back on my cell phone? You have the number, remember?”
Brandy hangs up, and all I can do is stand over the answering machine in a stupor. Brandy has a cell phone. How in the world did I forget that? Sure she’s only had it a few weeks, and I’ve never had occasion to call her on it. But I know she has it. I have just forgotten about it. She got it after what happened in Biloxi, in case we ever got stranded and didn’t have an Adam to help us out. I could have called her on that phone days ago. Maybe I am as dumb as she and Jack think I am.
Once I’m finished beating myself up over my latest bit of stupidity, I begin searching for the number. I know I wrote it down somewhere, but I can’t remember where. After searching my entire house from top to bottom, I decide the number must be in my purse. But it’s not. I can’t find it anywhere. All I can hope for is that Brandy will call back. At least she sounded okay – not like some crazy person had her at gunpoint or anything.
For The Least Of These Page 19
