At least someone respects my privacy, I thought, as I went to the door, checking the side window first and spying Mike.
She was in sleeveless jersey, capris and flip flops in deference to the warmth of the day. I considered changing when I felt a blast of hot air from outside, but then I shrugged and followed her to her bright red Subaru Cross Trek.
“Do you like this car?” I asked as we headed to the first dealership.
“Love it. I had to wait a while because I wanted a hybrid, but it was worth it.”
“How bout in the snow?”
“Well, I bought it last February so just caught the tail end of winter. Seemed good.”
“Your dad drives a hybrid, doesn’t he?”
“Range Rover, mega bucks. Much too expensive for me. He loves it. It’s his one big extravagance.”
“If you don’t count the mega house he’s creating around the corner?”
“Well, there is that, but look where it is. No offense, I love the Grove, but in relation to what he could afford, it’s pretty modest.”
“I guess so, look here’s Lou’s.”
Lou had nothing but Cadillacs, Lincolns and a particularly garish gold Grand Marquis. When I mentioned Vinnie, then asked him about Subarus, he scribbled a note on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Give this to Sharky Nadeau at Spindle City Subaru. He’s give you a good price.”
The name Sharky did not sound promising, but I gave Mike the directions and we headed off. Sharky took one look at me and declared, “Sweetheart, the Outback was meant for you,” which I took to mean, ‘let me show you our best little old lady car.’ Still, from the moment I sat in the very comfortable, beige driver’s seat, I was sold. The exterior was teal blue and it ran like a dream, smooth over the bumps and quiet as a mouse compared to my old jeep. It was two years old, but only had eighteen thousand miles and appeared to be in great condition.
Sharky handed me the keys. “Give a spin, dolls. I’ll be here when you get back.”
I drove out of the lot, already sold. As I took the highway on ramp to start the test drive, I turned to Mike. “Have you heard from Josh?”
“He stayed at my dad’s last night. He’s doing great.”
“I need to talk to him. What were his plans today?”
“I think he’s apartment hunting.”
“He shouldn’t be. I wish he’d stay with his parents until this calms down. He could be in serious danger, and he’ll put your dad and you in danger, too.”
“My dad can take care of himself, and so can I. Want me to call Josh?”
“No, let’s wait till this ordeal is over, okay?”
She nodded and we rode in silence, leaving the highway at the next exit and circling back. “What do you think?” I asked, as we rounded the corner and the dealership came into view.
“It’s great.”
“Now, for the negotiations.”
Two hours later I had a new car at a price much lower than I’d expected. I believe several conversations between Sharky and Vinnie took place behind the scenes. Since the car would not be ready to go until the following morning, I asked Mike to call Josh and we met him for a late lunch at Dino’s. Mindful of my impending dinner engagement, I ordered a cup of soup and a small house salad. They both got Dino burgers with curly fries.
Once Dino had disappeared, I leaned forward, gazing at my companions across the booth. “Josh, you are the only person who insists there was a school at Meridian.”
“That’s bullshit. I’ve worked there for almost five months. Ask Kim Smith or any of the office staff.”
“The police already did. Smith denies knowing anything about a school, children, anything. The rest of the office staff concurred.”
“That’s insane. I spent every minute I could in that classroom. Did they check the whole building?”
“Yup.”
“And they didn’t find it? Maybe the room was locked and they thought it was a closet. The windows look out on the river, huge windows, and there were desks, chalkboards, all kinds of stuff.”
“Gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw the room. It was empty, nothing on the walls, no furniture, not even a speck of chalk.”
“So, the kids are gone?”
I nodded.
“Oh, Jesus, that means they’ve taken Lin, too. Ricky, you’ve got to believe me. The
school was real. Joy and Lin are real, the rest of the kids, some as small as five are real and— “
“Whoa, you don’t have to convince me. I saw the classroom and I have an idea of where the children go.”
“Where?”
He sat on the edge of his seat, eyes full of concern. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my suspicions. Not until I was sure. “I’m not sure, but you are not to go near Meridian. Don’t contact them, don’t let them know where you are, nothing. And, I’d ditch your cell phone and get a new one immediately.”
“Why?”
“Cause if they have the capability to erase all your data, I’d bet they can find your location in the blink of an eye.”
We ate our lunch in silence then Josh drove away, claiming he was going grocery shopping for Dr. Bowen. Mike and I headed to the office and Frank followed close behind.
Chapter 19
I knew I could wear jeans and be comfortable at Sagres, but I pulled out gray linen slacks and a soft cream top, its v-neck showing just a hint of cleavage. It was an outfit that made me feel comfortable and sexy. Unfortunately, when I gazed in the mirror, I realized my wild, untamed hair spoiled the sexy effect. In vain I tried to tamp it down, but without much success. I added silver earrings and necklace, and my prized Navaho bracelet. I then refrained from consulting a mirror until I heard Charlie’s knock. When I opened the door, his look buoyed my spirits.
“Hey, you look sensational.”
“Thanks, so do you.” And he did, in khakis and a blue sports shirt that matched his eyes. “Want to come in for a drink?”
“The reservations are for seven. Maybe after?”
“Of course, let’s go.” I grabbed a gray sweater and my bag.
“That’s quite a purse you have there.”
“Doubles as a weapon when needed.”
“I can see that.”
We were quiet on the drive over aside from some idle chit chat about his house progress. He parked in the side lot. As we made our way in, his hand touched the small of my back sending ripples of electricity through my already sex-starved body.
“Bowen,” he said, smiling at the maître de.
We settled in at a back table, removed from the rest of the dining room. I wondered if Charlie had requested it, or a quiet table, at least. When the waiter appeared with the wine list, Charlie asked, “Have any idea what you’ll be having?”
“Some kind of seafood.”
“Do you like Vinho Verde?”
“Love it.”
“Okay if I order a bottle?”
“Absolutely.”
As he conferred with the waiter, asking for recommendations, I marveled at his warm, easy way. There was a calm about him to which people responded. Finally, after a long, friendly conversation, the waiter rattled off the evening’s specials then disappeared.
“What?” Charlie asked, noticing me staring.
“Mike’s so much like you.”
“I’ll take that as a huge compliment and say I hope I’m like her. We’ve spent a lot of time together over the years.”
“Tell me about them. Where did you grow up? Where have you lived? Travels? Anything.”
“I was going to ask you the same thing, but since you beat me to it, okay. Grew up in Concord, New Hampshire. Always thought I’d go back, but never did.”
“What about schools?”
“Went to St. Paul’s through high school, then Dartmouth. Came this way for medical school at Brown.” I smiled. As if reading my mind, he said, “I’m a bit older than you so I doubt our paths crossed although I did
teach in the med. school for a while. In fact, that’s where I met my second wife.”
“What didn’t Vinnie the blabbermouth tell you about me?”
He grinned as the waiter appeared. After Charlie tasted and approved the wine. The waiter poured, then set it in an ice bucket on the table. “Have you decided on dinner?”
Charlie looked at me.
“I’m easy, I always have the Mariscada, but take your time if you haven’t decided.”
“I will take a few minutes,” he said, looking up at the waiter. “But, in meantime, could we order appetizers?” He gazed over at me. “You hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Okay if I choose?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll have an order of Quijo De Cabra and an order of Amejois Bulhao de Pato, please,” he said. To my ears, his Portuguese sounded flawless.
“Very good choices,” said the waiter, who bowed and disappeared.
“So, I ordered— “
“Littlenecks and goat cheese. You forget I’ve eaten here before, and I followed along with my menu. Where did you learn to speak Portuguese?”
“I took a crash course when I moved here. So many people who come to the Clinic don’t speak English. It wasn’t too difficult as I have a little background, and I speak Spanish.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “A smattering of others.”
Hmm, I made a note to ask Mike. Probably fluent in about twenty. “So, you’ve been married twice?”
“Yes. I met and married my first wife in college. Layla and I married in the Dartmouth Chapel our sophomore spring.”
“So, she wasn’t Mike’s mom?”
“No, we didn’t have time for children. She was killed by a drunk driver the first week of junior year. She was pregnant.”
“That must have been terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. Almost forty-four years. She was a blithe spirit.”
“So, your second wife is Mike’s mom?”
“Yes, Patty. She was my student. Brilliant. She’s a general surgeon in Providence, specializes in pediatric cases. She also teaches at Brown. We divorced in our early forties. She was fed up with me being gone three quarters of the year. Don’t blame her. She married again, one of the city’s top cardiologists, Lyman West. They’re happy, I understand.”
“I’ve heard of him. So, Mike isn’t your only child?”
“No, my son Charles, we call him Bow, is thirty-four, married to a terrific woman, Katie, two young children. He’s an attorney and she’s a school teacher, but she’s home with the kids now.”
“Do they live nearby?”
“Derry, Connecticut. Mike and I go down to see them pretty often and they like to come up. We’re talking about renting a beach house in Windy Harbor next year. You have any connections down there?”
“No, but my father and stepmother, Rita do. They live at the Bluffs. It’s at the north end of the harbor.”
“Pricey, huh?”
“Most of the Bluffs is McMansions.”
“Well, if it was just a week, a big place would be great and we could all stay.”
“I could check with them, if you like?”
“That’s be terrific, thanks.” Another kilowatt smile.
“Is Mike your youngest?”
“No, my son Will is twenty-eight. He and his partner, Colin, are artists. They live a collaborative in Providence.”
“Wow, are they making a living with their art?”
He grinned, tasting a sip of the delicious wine. “Let’s just say there may be some subsidizing, but they both work in galleries downtown.”
The waiter came with the appetizers and took our dinner orders. Charlie ordered Cadeirda A Portuguese, which sounded very similar to my Mariscada. When he disappeared, Charlie said, “Your turn. Let’s hear the Ricky Steele story.”
“Not nearly as glamorous as yours. And, you didn’t tell me a thing about your work in Africa and other parts of the world.”
“Another time, I want to hear about you.”
“You mean the few scraps of information Vinnie left out?”
“Come on, out with it.”
I gave him the short version, mentioning my mom’s suicide and hurrying forward to cover boarding school, my two-minute marriage and my years trying to find myself and my career. He got a huge kick out of how I became a private investigator after impersonating one at my boarding school reunion.
“So, have you found yourself as a P.I.?” he asked, holding my eyes with his intense gaze.
“Maybe. Believe it or not, despite the obvious pitfalls of being in this profession at my age, I actually enjoy it. It suits my devious mind.”
He laughed. “How come a beautiful, smart, talented woman like you isn’t in a relationship?”
“I could ask the same of you?”
“I asked first.”
“Truth is, I’m not very good at relationships. Men seem to wander away after a few months.”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right man?”
“Maybe, but at this point, I’ve kind of given up. Not sure the heartache’s worth it.”
“No kids along the way?”
“No, and that does make me sad. I’d probably have been a lousy mother, but it’s still a loss.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand just as Tony, our waiter delivered our entrees. The food was out of this world and we chatted idly as we ate, about his work at the Clinic, my various jobs and the neighborhood. We shared a creamy, aromatic Portuguese flan for dessert, then Charlie insisted on paying. We waddled out after sharing the last sips of vinho verde. I’m embarrassed to say that I fell fast asleep on the drive home and he had to help me inside.
“I’m sorry,” I said, arms circling his shoulders. “The wine really hit me.”
“No problem. We’ll have that drink another night. You need to get to bed. Do you need help?”
“Absolutely not,” I said, straightening up.
“I had a really good time,” he said, hands holding my waist, propping me up.
I gazed groggily into his eyes. “Me, too.”
He drew me close for a soft kiss, and I almost collapsed. “Sure you don’t need help? I’m a doctor, after all.”
“I’m fine, really.” I stepped back, grabbing the kitchen counter to steady myself.
“Well, then, goodnight.” He kissed my forehead. “Remember to lock up behind me.”
“Always do,” I said, already missing him.
And then he was gone. I peeked out my kitchen window toward the street, spied Frank’s Tacoma, and breathed a long sigh. “Bed,” I said aloud. “Now.”
Chapter 20
I woke Saturday morning fuzzy-headed. I jog-walked the beach, secretly hoping to meet Charlie, but he and Carter were nowhere in sight. I’d had a really good time the previous evening and was embarrassed about falling asleep in the car. Some date! After a shower and cereal, I cleared my dining table and spread out all my notes on Meridian Imports, Jimmy Chen and Josh Peabody. It was a dismal sight, since I’d learned almost nothing. I decided to concentrate on outstanding projects for Bud’s insurance cases since I’d done all the legwork weeks ago, but procrastinated and put off typing up the reports. After several hours at my computer, the reports were written, proofed and completed so I sent them off feeling satisfied until I remembered two terrified little girls who were out there somewhere with no one looking for them.
I phoned Josh, but his phone went right to voicemail. Frustrated, I grabbed my bag and headed out to where Frank was sitting, drinking coffee, two bagel sandwiches by his side.
“Morning,” I said, brightly.
Noticing my ravenous gaze, he said, “My buddy brought ‘em.”
“Lucky you. Listen, Frank, would you mind giving me a ride to the car place? They left a message, my car’s ready.”
Reluctantly bagging his sandwiches, he said, “Hop in” and we were off.
“Sorr
y to disturb your breakfast.”
“No problem.”
“How long have you been doing this kind of work?”
“Bout five years.”
“It’s been reassuring to have you here.”
He smiled a crooked half smile, eyes on the road ahead.
“Where’s Wilda today?”
“She’s around. Keepin’ an eye on the kids.”
“You mean both of them?”
He shrugged.
“This is it.”
I pointed to the car lot and Frank swung in. I hopped out and headed in to what was a mercifully quick transaction. The salesman came out to give me a brief introduction to what he called “the cockpit,” then with a wave to Frank, I was off. I had nothing to do at the office and had told Mike to take the weekend off. She claimed she and her roommate were going to the beach. I wondered if that included Josh. I drove into the Highlands and parked near Belmont House, praying Ruth Channing was in. If anyone would know about children’s whereabouts in the city, it was Ruth.
An old family friend, Ruth had run Belmont House for decades. In her early eighties, she had supposedly retired, but still oversaw much of the work of the city’s Child Services. Belmont was a halfway house for juvenile offenders, but it was not unusual to see kids of all ages staying in the three-story refuge, one of the city’s stopgap measures due to the critical shortage of foster homes. While the Highlands is the wealthy section of the city, a few enterprising souls, Ruth Channing among them, had managed, despite neighbors’ objections, to convert some of the grandest residences into facilities to serve the community. Belmont House, once the showplace of a wealthy mill owner, now provided temporary shelter to a steady stream of kids.
“Well, well, what a lovely surprise,” my father’s former schoolmate said, opening the door. “And perfect timing. I’m just about to make lunch. Will you join me?”
“What do you think?” I said, hugging her.
Stooped, but still robust and active, Ruth returned the hug and then patted my back. “Good to see you dear. Come on back.”
While she made two tuna salad sandwiches, I looked around the huge kitchen imagining the cook and under staff scurrying around, preparing meals in the city’s golden age. Bells connected to each room and the dining room still hung on the kitchen wall.
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