by Dale Mayer
On the taxi ride home, Kanen asked her, “Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”
She smiled up at him. “Just realizing how much my world has shrunk. With Blake’s death, it changed the dynamics of my life in so many ways. Losing him was the epicenter of even more aftershocks radiating outward. I lost friends we had together, which shows me my girlfriends at the time were more couple-friends. I have hardly kept in touch with any of them. Blake was never close with his family, and we were never close to them when we were married. Now that I’m on my own, it’s like a huge chunk of my life doesn’t exist anymore.”
There wasn’t anything Kanen could say to that. Taylor and Nelson shared a grim look.
They got out at her apartment building, and she stared up at it. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“Let’s find out,” Kanen said. “When are you supposed to return to work?”
“I told them that I was sick,” she said, “that I would be taking off a full week. So I’m scheduled to return Thursday next week. I don’t know if taking off like that’ll get me into trouble or not.”
“Are you still working at the same preschool?”
She nodded. “Yes, but they could easily replace me if I wasn’t there. And missing a week of work at the beginning of the first semester of the new school year is not a way to endear myself to the school administrators or to the children’s parents. I’m suddenly realizing that I’m really not important to anyone. And that feels very lonely.”
“That’s wrong,” Kanen said. “You’re very important to me.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Yes, but, when you return to the US, you’ll go back to your job and forget all about me. Yes, we’ll talk on the phone a couple times a week for maybe a month. But it’s not like you’ll be there for me all the time, like these past few days. Any more than I would expect you to be.” She paused, embarrassed, as she looked at each of the guys. “I know I’m whining. Just ignore me.” She was calm, though, at the same time, her heart ached at the thought of losing Kanen.
“So come back to the States with me,” Kanen said. “Nothing is keeping you here now, is there?”
A smirk appeared on Nelson’s face. A told you so look.
Taylor lifted one eyebrow and tilted his head in a silent nod, agreeing with Nelson.
She stared at Kanen. “My apartment.” Even though she’d said it, she shook her head. “I have some friends here.” She spoke slowly, then stopped. “No, … nothing is keeping me here.” Her voice was low, almost in a dumbfounded way. “I’m not sure I like that.”
“What? That nothing is keeping you here?”
“I don’t like the reminder of how empty my life has become. When Blake was alive, my life was full. We used to have dinners with other couples. We did things as a couple. We biked, hiked and grabbed books and coffee to sit out in the middle of nowhere and just enjoy being together. Our lives were busy. But now it’s just me. All that connected to his life has been removed, and I realize how much of it was part of his life. It wasn’t our lives as much as it was his life.”
“No,” Kanen corrected softly. “When a twosome, you had other twosomes to connect with. As a single person, those couples don’t know how to act around you. They don’t know what to say to you any longer, how to fill up that empty space at a dining room table. And it makes them feel awkward to invite you over. So they don’t.”
She nodded.
The guys and Laysa got out of the cab in front of her Ipswich apartment.
“We should be allowed back in, right?” she asked softly. It didn’t look like home anymore. Her assailant had tainted that.
“Of course. It’s your apartment. It wasn’t cordoned off before we left. Shouldn’t be now,” Nelson said, looking at his silent phone. “I’m surprised MI6 hasn’t tagged us yet. Somebody should have been pinged that we’re back in the UK.”
As they walked to the elevator, she asked, “Do you think we should ask anybody?”
“You mean, ask MI6 for permission to enter your own apartment?” Taylor asked. “Hell no. I tried to get answers earlier from MI6 on other matters. I didn’t get very far.”
Now at her apartment door, she unlocked it and pushed it open. There was no sign of anyone having been here.
Regardless, the guys spread out and did a quick search just to be sure.
She walked into her bedroom, dumped her travel bags on her bed and said, “Doesn’t look any different.” She walked back out to the kitchen, where she put on a pot of coffee.
While she waited for it to brew, she looked around her apartment. It was an empty shell and symbolized so much of her life. Nothing was on the kitchen counters, except the coffeemaker. She had no toaster, no blender, nothing. She had put it all away after Blake’s death because she didn’t use them anymore. She rarely ate bread herself, and she hadn’t ever baked anything here. She didn’t care if she had a cookie or a cake ever, whereas Blake had loved his sweets. They had routinely visited a nearby bakery so he could get his sugar fix.
She walked back into the living room and sat down. She booted her laptop up and waited for it to load. “What’s next on the list?” she asked.
“What do you want to do?” Nelson asked. “I can’t say I had enough to eat on the plane, and we didn’t have breakfast before we left because it was such an early flight. So food right now wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
She chuckled. “There’s the kitchen. Help yourself.” She expected him to give her an argument, but he didn’t.
He hopped up and walked into the kitchen, checking out her fridge and the cabinets. “You’ve got eggs. Do you have any bread?”
“Nope, I sure don’t,” she answered.
He rummaged a bit more, poked his head around the corner and said, “Do you mind if I make pancakes?”
She turned to face him in surprise. “Sure. Absolutely. If there’s enough to make some for everybody, that’s a great idea.” She smiled as he puttered around in the kitchen. She looked at Taylor. “Do you cook too?”
“I can,” he said. “Don’t have much call for it in my world. I tend to do barbecues more than anything.”
She nodded in understanding. “Men gravitate more to outdoor barbecues.”
“Men gravitate to protein,” Kanen said with a chuckle. “Big fat steaks.”
“Well, you won’t find any steaks in my fridge,” she said, “but, if Nelson can make pancakes for all of us, that’s perfect.” Even the thought of it made her mouth water. She hadn’t had homemade pancakes in a long time.
Before long, they all sat around her small kitchen table, enjoying a wonderful breakfast. She smiled at Nelson. “You can cook for me anytime.”
He chuckled. “You’re welcome at my table anytime too,” he said with gentlemanly politeness.
She smiled and snagged another pancake off the stack. “These are really good. Blake used to make pancakes.”
“Man food,” Kanen said. “Something to stick to the ribs.”
She nodded. “He often said stuff like that too.” She waited a few minutes, while the men continued to eat. Then she asked, “How long can you stay in England?”
“Another two days,” Kanen said. “I can stay longer if need be, if we haven’t found this guy. But I can’t stay too much longer.”
She nodded. “I’d hate to be here alone if he hasn’t been caught.”
“Which is why,” Kanen said, “you should come back with me.”
“You mean, run away?” she asked, working up her face in distaste.
“Staying alive to fight another day,” he corrected.
“Blake never ran away from anything,” she said slowly. “I can hardly run away myself. Particularly if something is odd about his death.”
“We’re a long way away from having any proof of that,” Kanen said. “Honestly I wouldn’t go down that pathway at all. It’s just going to twist you up inside.”
She nodded. “I understand, but …”
“Did you want to pull that
thread?” Kanen asked, watching her expression change. “Just tell me if you decide you want more facts, and we’ll see what we can do.”
She nodded, her mouth a grimace.
As the men finished the pancakes, she rinsed the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher. “What’s next then?”
“We’ll contact MI6,” Kanen said. “Make sure they share whatever information they may have found on those photos. Then we’ll continue our research to see if we can track down any Alagarth family member still alive or anybody who knows about Finest Photos and what happened to them.”
“A historian? A genealogist? … Selfies on social media?” she quipped with a roll of her eyes.
“There are all kinds of choices,” Kanen said. “In a way, MI6 might even be the best option, if they’ll cooperate with us.” He got up from the table, filled his cup with coffee. “I’ll be in the living room, seeing if I can get a hold of anyone on a weekend.”
It was Saturday. Maybe nobody would answer. In the living room she heard Kanen speaking to somebody. She continued washing up, and they all half listened to the conversation.
Finally Kanen came back in and said, “Well, I got them on the phone. Surprise, surprise. And they’re still tracking down a few other unknown people in the photos. They did come up with a couple more. One is dead, and the other one is in a coma from a car accident he had a long time ago. The family has been fighting the courts not to take him off life support.”
“Interesting. Do we think the death of one and the accident of another are related?”
“I doubt it. Seems the death was natural and much more recent,” Kanen said. “These photos were likely blackmail material from years ago. I think our best bet is to track down the couple known family members of the jailed alleged blackmailer. They have the best motivation for wanting the pictures back.”
“But what motivation?” she asked in bewilderment. She snagged a tea towel and dried her hands. “I get that there has to be some reason why they are important to someone, but it seems like the actual blackmailing itself is no longer viable.”
“I think MI6 is coming to that same conclusion,” Kanen said. “That’s why we should find the rest of the people in this alleged blackmailer’s family. You look to those closest to the victim or to the perpetrator of the crime, usually family members. If somebody knows about these photos, somebody has a reason for wanting to hang on to them. And usually that is to use them as threats. To stop somebody from doing something. We still have to get to the bottom of the who, what, how and why.”
After she finished cleaning up the kitchen, they sat around the table with their laptops, searching and making phone calls as they tried to track down the last few living members of the alleged blackmailer’s family.
Kanen got another text from Mason.
It’s possible the Alagarth family moved to the US after the grandfather was convicted. We have proof the son was in Maine for a few years. But the grandson appears to have returned to England.
We’ll look for him. Kanen read his message as he typed it into his phone for the others’ benefit. We need to write him off as part of this or put him on the plus side and keep him as a suspect.
Pressing Send, Kanen said, “That means the grandson is likely still here in England. Why is it we haven’t found him yet?”
“Because we were looking for a Robert Alagarth. I suspect he’s using the name Bob instead,” Nelson said. “Because we found several Bob Alagarths. One in London working as a photographer.”
“Are we thinking the grandson followed in the grandfather’s footsteps?” she asked. “Are we also thinking he’s a blackmailer?”
“No way to know. I suggest we pay him a visit,” Kanen said.
“I’m up for it,” Laysa said. “If he’s even there on a Saturday.”
Next thing she knew, Nelson was making a call. “Yes, I wanted to stop in this afternoon but didn’t know how long you were open.” He smiled. “Thank you. We should make it.” He hung up the phone. “They’re open until five o’clock today.”
She marveled at how quickly they got things done. They had been moving nonstop since arriving in England, accomplishing a lot on their list, even though not yet at the finish line. Before she knew it, the men had already set up a plan of places to go. They had two more Bob Alagarths who they considered viable suspects. Once they were packed up and ready to go again, she looked around her apartment wistfully, wondering when she’d get a full day to herself to just sit and do nothing, without a care in the world.
Kanen wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You ready?”
She nodded and followed them out of the apartment.
They went to see the first Bob Alagarth on their list, the closest one to her apartment. They walked up to his flat and met him; he was probably in his late seventies. Definitely not the person they were looking for.
They carried on to the second one on the list. He appeared to be the right age, but it couldn’t be him; … he was black.
With that suspect crossed off the list, they headed to the photography shop. “What’s the chance this is our guy?” she asked.
“As good as any,” Kanen said cheerfully. “The question is whether you’ll recognize him when you see him.”
“It will be interesting to see his reaction when he sees her. So, take as much time as you need to recognize him and to take a good long look at him,” Taylor said as they got out of the vehicle parked outside the shop, “I want to track this guy’s reaction. That’ll be as telling as anything.”
They walked into the photography shop. It was bigger than she’d expected. “He seems to be doing quite well for himself here.”
The shelves were full of lenses, cameras, supplies and other accessories. They wandered the store for a long moment, looking for the one person they were searching for. Two women worked at the counters.
Laysa walked up to one and asked, “Is Bob here?”
“He’s in the back room. Did you have an appointment with him?”
She smiled. “We called and said we’d be coming. If it’s possible, it’d be nice to talk to him.”
The woman headed toward the offices in back. Because of what Taylor had said, Laysa stepped back behind the men. No reason for this guy to recognize Taylor or Nelson. He might recognize Kanen if he was tracking him through England’s airports. But the guy would definitely recognize her if he saw her in the store.
The woman quickly returned. “He’ll be out in a minute.”
The men nodded and wandered the store. She deliberately kept herself hidden behind everybody, wondering if this Bob Alagarth could possibly be her assailant.
Soon a man in a business suit stepped forward, a bright smile on his face, asking the men what he could help them with.
That voice … She studied the owner and realized she couldn’t tell just from that if it was him or not. She looked at his wrists, and, sure enough, he had the same ropy muscled arms as her captor, but was it really him? There was only one way to find out. She stepped forward into the middle of the men, smiled up at him and said, “There you are. We finally found you.”
*
Kanen jolted at her wording. He immediately turned to the man, looking for the response that would trigger a conviction one way or the other.
Bob swallowed hard and said, “I don’t know anything about you.”
She gave him a hard smile. “And that just convinced me even more. Your voice caught my attention first. You should have some scratches along your right shoulder.” She immediately smacked him hard where she’d scratched him before.
He took a step back, glanced at the men and bolted.
The women in the shop screamed as Kanen jumped over the counter and raced after Bob. Kanen didn’t waste time worrying about Laysa because he knew one of his two men would stay with her, the other right behind Kanen.
Bob disappeared into the back offices and out the rear exit. As Kanen blasted out the door of the building, he saw a small
blue car already turning from the parking lot onto the road. The vehicle was older, more of a patchwork kind of a blue, as if different parts were taken from multiple vehicles of all different colors. It would be very hard to hide that vehicle. Kanen came to a gasping stop, furious to think this guy had gotten away from them.
Taylor stopped by his side, glaring down the road. Then he turned to him. “Are you sure that’s him?”
They both studied the rest of the parking lot, looking to see if they spotted anyone else.
“It’s just as likely he could have gone off on foot, using that vehicle’s exit as a distraction.” Taylor motioned inside. “If you want to check with the staff, I’ll keep looking around out here.”
Kanen returned inside and asked one of the staff what kind of vehicle the owner drove.
“He’s rebuilding a small blue car,” she said in confusion. “What’s happened? What’s he done?”
He pulled the woman gently outside to the parking lot. “Is his vehicle here?”
“Oh, you can’t miss it,” she said. “It’s a wreck. It’s got various bits and pieces that he’s using until the parts he wants come in. And, no, it’s not here.”
Sadly that confirmed what Kanen had already assumed—they’d lost him. “We need a way to contact him. Do you have his phone number, his home address?”
But the staff member got irritated. “Hey, I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here, but, if he took off, he had a good reason.”
Kanen wasn’t about to let her get away with that. But he didn’t have to because suddenly Laysa was there in front of them.
She snapped at the woman. “Oh, he had a reason all right,” she yelled. “He broke into my apartment, held me captive there and beat me up because I didn’t know where his precious stuff was. Turned out to be blackmail photos.”
The staff member took several steps back, her hand going to her chest. “That’s not possible. He’s a good guy.”
