Duplicity

by Ingrid Thoft

  Hal nodded. “Okay.”

  “Since I designated the money for that purpose, they can’t use it for anything else, right?”

  “Not legally. What were the other options for directing the money?”

  “Just the operating fund and the Frontier Fund.”

  “If you indicated you wanted it used for the Frontier Fund, that’s what it’s supposed to be used for.” He took a sip of water and placed the glass on a makeshift side table Fina had fashioned out of packing boxes.

  “So is there any way to actually follow the money?”

  “Generally speaking, that’s what annual reports are for.”

  “Right, but how can I be sure that my money was used where I wanted it to be used?” Fina asked.

  “Well, you can’t. Not for certain, and not unless the church has opened their books to an independent firm for review.”

  “So I’m just supposed to trust that my money is being used properly?”

  “Yes, because generally, people don’t give money to organizations they don’t trust.”

  Fina nodded. “Right.” She could feel a sneeze coming on and braced herself. “Achoo!” She doubled over in pain. “Oww!”

  Hal’s brow crinkled with worry.

  “Damn. That hurt.” She took a sip of water and then adjusted the pillows behind her back, searching for a more comfortable position. “So here’s the other thing that’s niggling at me: No one from the church has been to this orphanage, but they claim that there’s an organization in Africa doing the work on their behalf.”

  “And you don’t believe them?”

  “I just don’t understand why it’s such a mystery. I’ve asked one of the members to provide me with the name of that organization, but I’m not holding my breath.”

  Hal took out his phone and began tapping at the keys. “You want me to try and locate this mystery organization?”

  “Yes. I think it makes sense to follow the money, or lack thereof, rather than just trying to poke around the orphanage. These people are champion excuse makers; I’m not going to get any traction unless I can confront them with concrete information.”

  “Where in Africa specifically?”

  “Angola.”

  Hal made a few notes on his phone before draining his water.

  “Do you have contacts in Africa?” Fina asked. “I guess I should have started with that, but I have such faith in your abilities I just assumed you would.”

  “I’ve got contacts. The information may be pricey, though.”

  “Whatever you need to do,” Fina said. “Carl’s footing the bill. If I get the name of the local organization, I’ll send it to you, but get started in the meantime.”

  “Understood.”

  Once Hal had left, Fina changed into sweats and foraged in the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of milk and made half a fluffernutter.

  Cristian called when she was mid-bite.

  “You’re eating? I thought we might grab dinner.”

  “Sorry. I’ve had a long day, and I just want to take a hot shower and call it a night.”

  “What happened? To make your day so long, I mean?”

  Fina knew without a doubt that she should tell Cristian about the previous night’s attack, but she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t muster up the energy it would take to reassure him and deflect his criticism. She was all tapped out.

  “Just this case. I’m at that stage where I feel like some pieces are coming together, but it’s still out of reach.”

  “I know that feeling.”

  “Did Pitney give the go-ahead on the Jimmy Smith background check?”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t done it yet. I’m drowning in paperwork.”

  “Was your day okay?” Fina asked, feeling like a horrible person.

  “It was fine. Matteo drew you a picture at preschool.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Fina said, shriveling inside, convinced that her heart was two sizes too small.

  “It’s very sweet, and it drives his mom nuts, so that’s a bonus from my perspective.”

  “She can’t be threatened by me, of all people.”

  “You know mothers when it comes to their sons; they don’t want anyone else competing for their affection.”

  “So true.”

  “You sound tired,” Cristian said. “I’ll let you go.”

  “Sorry about the rain check. Thanks for calling.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll redeem it soon.”

  Fina finished her sandwich and zoned out, watching TV for a couple of hours.

  In the bathroom mirror, she examined her face, not pleased with what she saw. The swelling was subsiding, but the bruises were darkening. She brushed her teeth and took a Tylenol PM.

  A quick check of the door reassured her that the condo was secure, so she climbed into bed, her Glock within arm’s reach.

  It was becoming a habit she was eager to break.

  • • •

  Fina met Frank at Dunkin’ Donuts the next morning. She felt worse than the day before, which wasn’t surprising, but it was annoying nonetheless.

  “You’re getting quite the bruise,” he commented, gesturing toward her face.

  “You should see my abdomen,” Fina said. She started to untuck her shirt.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Frank said, averting his gaze.

  “I wasn’t going to take my shirt off.”

  “Even still, I haven’t had enough coffee yet to assess your injuries.”

  “Has the surveillance made you want to ditch retirement and get back in the game?” Fina asked. She pulled off a piece of glazed donut and put it in her mouth. She knew people ordered all sorts of things at Dunkin’ Donuts, like bagels and breakfast sandwiches, but she didn’t understand why. It was like ordering chicken at Legal Sea Foods.

  “Not in the least. Not that I haven’t enjoyed the change of pace, but my full-time detecting days are over.” Frank bit into his cruller. “This is what I’ve got so far.” He handed her a small stack of papers, each page featuring six photos. Gabby Gatchell was in all of them.

  “Anything jump out at you?” Fina asked, flipping through them.

  “Well, your young man has yet to make an appearance. I assume you want me to stay on him?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “But I did find this interesting.” Frank tapped the bottom sheet, and Fina passed it back to him. “These few here.”

  He pointed at a row of photos, and she took a closer look.

  “That is interesting,” she murmured.

  “Who is he?” Frank asked.

  “That’s Gabby Gatchell, obviously, and that guy is Lucas Chellew. He’s a member of the church. Kind of the pastor’s right-hand man.”

  “The pastor who’s married to Gabby?”

  “The very one.” Fina traced her finger over one of the photos. It showed Gabby and Lucas standing in front of her car. Her hands were on her hips in a pose of defiance, and Lucas was leaning toward her, his face frozen in a pained expression.

  “I don’t suppose you heard the conversation?” Fina asked.

  Frank sipped his coffee. “No. I couldn’t get close enough, but it was not a happy one, I can tell you that.”

  “The few times I’ve seen the two of them together, I haven’t gotten a sense of any animosity, but I don’t really know them.”

  “You don’t have to know them to see there’s something going on here,” he said, tapping the photo. “Their bodies are speaking the universal language of conflict.”

  “This is great, Frank.” Fina slipped the photos into her bag.

  “You have any idea what it’s about?”

  “No, but when has that ever stopped me?”

  He smiled. “Never, as far as I can recall.”
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br />   “It’s not proof of anything, but it’s something. It’s ammunition.”

  “It warms my heart to see you so thrilled by surveillance photos.”

  “I’m a simple girl with simple needs. Let me know what happens,” Fina said, rising from the molded orange booth. “I think the plot is going to thicken.”

  She got in the car and pointed it toward Framingham. She loved starting the day with a purpose.

  • • •

  Fina asked around at the church and found Gabby in the Sunday school classroom. She watched her from the doorway before making her presence known. The pastor’s wife was perched on a low bookcase under the window, glued to her phone. The corners of her mouth were curled up in a sly smile.

  Fina made some noise outside the door and watched the other woman spring to life. She put down the phone and knelt before the bookcase as if entranced by the collection of Little Golden Books.

  “Hi, Gabby,” Fina said.

  “Hi.” She tidied the thin volumes, then rose and began straightening the tiny plastic chairs. “Greg isn’t here right now. He’s at a meeting off-site.”

  “Actually, I’m here to see you.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Fina wandered over to the other side of the room and examined the artwork pinned to the wall. There were about twenty copies of the same worksheet depicting Jesus carrying the cross. The pages had been colored twenty different ways, obviously by young hands. Few stayed within the lines, and most were scribbled with a wide array of colors. Jesus had a flowing purple mane in one, green hands grasping the cross in another.

  “You wanted something?” Gabby asked.

  “I just wanted to hear what you had to say about your conflict with Lucas.”

  Gabby straightened up. “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought you’d like a chance to comment on it,” Fina said. This was a technique that reporters employed. They pretended to know more than they did and suggested it was your chance to set the record straight. Of course, Fina didn’t have a media outlet with which she was sharing the story, but the hint of exposure was oftentimes enough to get people to talk.

  “Which Lucas are we discussing?” Gabby dipped her hands into a bin of LEGOs. She grabbed a small handful and picked through them.

  Fina grinned. “How many Lucases does Covenant Rising have? I think you know that I’m talking about Lucas Chellew.”

  “Well, we get along great,” Gabby said. “Guess you’re mistaken.”

  “I don’t think so.” Fina moved down the line of drawings, studying them as if she were at the Museum of Fine Arts. “I wonder if Greg knows.”

  “You have quite an active imagination, Fina.” She was dividing the blocks into color-coordinated piles. “I’m beginning to think that you’re doing the work of the devil.”

  Fina guffawed. “Like I’m possessed?”

  “You don’t have to be possessed to work on his behalf. If you give in to sinful temptations or defy God, you’re furthering his cause.”

  Fina leaned her hip against the wall and looked at Gabby. “I’m not sure how I’m defying God in this instance.”

  “You’re making trouble for people who are doing the Lord’s good work.”

  “That’s where I always get stuck on this whole religion thing, Gabby. You guys decide what’s righteous, and anyone who isn’t on board is deemed sinful or subversive. Why do you get to make those determinations?”

  “Because it says so in the Bible.” Gabby pushed her fingernail between two blocks that were stuck together and pried them apart.

  “The Bible also says you shouldn’t wear mixed fibers or eat a ham sandwich. Are you telling me you’ve never worn Lycra? I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’m not going to debate the Bible with you.”

  Fina smiled. “Of course not.”

  “I’m just asking that you not bring your evil ways into this house of worship.”

  “So you have no comment on your conflict with Lucas?”

  “That’s right. I have no comment.” She scooped up the LEGOs and returned them to the bin from which she had plucked them. “I’ll escort you out.”

  Gabby brought her to the front door and waited as Fina climbed into her car.

  The church was private property so Fina would have to mind her step, but that was the great thing about doing the devil’s work.

  You could plant a seed and then step back and watch it grow.

  • • •

  “Have you heard from Haley?”

  Fina was sitting at a red light, still basking in the irate glow given off by Gabby Gatchell. Patty was on speaker.

  “No. Why? Isn’t she at school?”

  “No. The school just called, and she was seen in homeroom first thing this morning and hasn’t been seen since.”

  Fina sensed the familiar flutter in her gut that often accompanied talk of her niece. “Obviously, you’ve tried calling her.”

  “Obviously,” Patty said, “but she hasn’t answered.”

  “Did any of her friends skip out?”

  “No, and none of them seem to know where she is.”

  “Let me pull over,” Fina said, taking a quick detour into a gas station. The patient driver behind her sat on his horn and flipped her the bird in response to her last-minute change of plans.

  “I’m sure she’s fine, Patty.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Is any of her stuff missing? Any clothes? That sort of thing?” Fina asked.

  “Her room looks the same as it always does.”

  “Have you talked to Scotty?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t want to worry him needlessly.”

  Sometimes Fina wished people felt that way about her. No one ever seemed to care about worrying her needlessly. She was number one on everyone’s speed dial when things went awry.

  “Let me call her. Does she have any favorite hangouts?”

  “Sometimes she goes to the Chestnut Hill mall with her friends,” Patty said. “Usually, they just go to one another’s houses.”

  “Have you tried Risa?”

  “I left a message for her, and I considered calling Elaine, but thought I should wait.”

  “Good thinking. Let’s not involve her unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Fina.”

  “It’s too early to panic. If she were a typical teenager this would just be annoying, not worrisome.”

  “But she’s not a typical teenager.” The tenor of Patty’s voice was rising.

  “She is, and she isn’t. Just because her experience has been unusual, it doesn’t mean she won’t also display typical teenage behavior.”

  Patty sighed. “I hope you’re right,” she said before ending the call.

  Fina dialed Haley’s number and left a message imploring her to be in touch and then texted her the same. Next, she tried Risa. There was no answer. What was the point of all these devices if you could never actually reach anyone? It was maddening.

  Fina wasn’t that far from Risa’s and decided to swing by in the hope of catching her in. As she suspected, there was no answer at the gingerbread Victorian, and she couldn’t justify breaking into her friend’s house to check if Haley was hiding out. Instead, she sat in her car out front and contemplated the situation.

  There was no point in searching for Haley. They didn’t live in a small town that could be covered with a quick driving tour. The only thing that Fina knew for sure was that Haley was playing hooky.

  There was nothing to do but wait.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Fina wondered if Gabby had alerted Lucas to their conversation. She called his cell and got no response, and the helpful woman at Macy’s informed her that he was visiting other stores all day. His absence might be a good t
hing; sometimes she found that poking someone indirectly reaped better results.

  Her background search of Lucas hadn’t indicated whether Heather Chellew had a job, so Fina decided to swing by the house and possibly catch her in.

  She was in luck. There was a minivan parked in the driveway, and Heather answered the door wearing jeans and a yellow sweater. Her face was free of makeup, and small earrings featuring cats were nestled in her lobes.

  “Hi, Fina,” Heather said, motioning her inside.

  “Sorry to drop by unannounced. Is this a bad time?”

  “Just doing chores. I could use a break.”

  Fina tried to picture Elaine doing chores. As far as she knew, her mother had always outsourced her chores. That said, Fina wasn’t big on chores, either. She did the bare minimum to keep her life functioning smoothly.

  She followed Heather to the kitchen, where the evidence of the fondue debacle was still on display; the oven hood was blackened and misshapen.

  “The adjuster came out to take a look,” Heather commented. “He said it could have been much worse. Do you want coffee or a soda?”

  “A soda would be great,” Fina said. She caught a glimpse inside the fridge and cringed. There was a stack of Coke cans on a shelf, no diet in sight.

  “Do you want a glass and ice?”

  “The can’s fine.”

  Heather handed her the cold drink and pulled out the chair next to her. They popped the tops, and Fina watched as she took a long chug of the liquid.

  “Ahh. I didn’t realize I was so thirsty,” Heather said, stopping just short of smacking her lips.

  Fina braced herself for the rush of sweetness and took a sip. The soda was worse than she remembered. How could she be so betrayed by sugar, her oldest friend and most trusted companion?

  “I thought maybe I’d get lucky and find Lucas at home,” Fina said.

  “No, but he’s not at the office, either. He had an off-site meeting today. I do expect him home a little early,” she said, glancing at her watch, “but not for a couple of hours.”

  “That’s fine. I just talked to Gabby Gatchell and wanted to get his opinion on something.”

  “Are you making any progress on the case?” Heather’s hand grasped the can of soda, and Fina looked at her nails. They were short and bare.