by Alice Sharpe
“You’ve got a friend,” Jack said.
“He looks a lot like my cat, Oscar.”
“Her name is Gabby,” Jack said. “She’s Sabrina’s cat. Buzz complains that she won’t give anyone else the time of day.”
They both watched as the cat rubbed the glass where Sophie’s fingers still lingered. “Kitty doesn’t seem the standoffish type,” Sophie said.
“Not to you.” He opened the screen door and tried the knob. This sent the cat flying. A moment later, they heard her scratching the other side of the wood door as if trying to let them in.
“Too bad Gabby doesn’t have opposable thumbs,” Sophie said. “Now what?”
He scanned the street, checking for loitering white sedans. “I have a lock-pick set in my glove compartment. It’s time to break in.”
Chapter Five
It took Jack less than thirty seconds to open the lock on the back door. “Well, that’s an eye-opener,” Sophie said. “Is it always that easy?”
“Not always. They need to install better locks.” He held the door open. Sophie stepped inside as a blur of gray and black stripes escaped to the outside.
“I hope she’s not strictly an indoor cat,” Sophie said. The tabby had already jumped to the top of the fence and disappeared.
“I’m not sure if she is or not,” Jack said.
The kitchen they entered was small but tidy and it looked like it would be filled with sunlight if it ever stopped raining. Jack walked to the window over the sink and peered outside.
“What are you looking at?” she asked as she stood by his side.
“The neighbor’s porch. Sabrina said they hired someone to paint it. Does it look painted to you?”
“It’s hard to tell through all the rain.”
“Still, it’s an odd time of year to paint, don’t you think?”
He walked out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer. He’d gotten cryptic since entering the house and Sophie didn’t blame him. Sabrina missing from a hotel room had been one thing, but Sabrina missing from this house was a whole other matter. The cat anxious for her return, a lacy red sweater on the back of a chair, rubber rain boots lined up neatly by the door, a clean coffee mug in the strainer—it was as though Sabrina might have left this room five minutes before. Missing from this house seemed like missing from her life and while Sophie had been concerned for the woman’s safety before, she now found anxiety tying her stomach in tight knots.
She followed Jack into what turned out to be the living area, which was one big room full of wood walls and shelves, earth-colored furniture, family photographs and large paintings all depicting local scenic scenes. While Jack searched the house—for uninvited guests, she assumed—Sophie’s attention was drawn to a grouping of wood-framed photographs displayed on the wall above a low bookcase.
All together there were ten photos that appeared to capture a life in progression. The first one was taken of a very pretty smiling woman standing on a beach, a swaddled baby in her arms. From there, the pictures included various people but the focus was always on the same child who grew older from shot to shot. Preschool, birthdays, graduations...it was all there. The last photo was of three people who sat side by side on a log. The woman was the same as the one in the first picture only two decades older. A college-age girl sat in the middle with a middle-aged man on her left side.
The girl was Sophie only it wasn’t.
“Is it like looking at your own family photos?” Jack asked from beside her.
“More like seeing yourself in an alternate universe,” Sophie said softly. “Are these Sabrina’s parents?”
“Yeah.”
“This last picture can’t be more than six or seven years old. Her parents are pretty young. Do they live locally?”
“They’re both dead,” Jack said. “Sabrina said they were trapped in a house fire about six months after that photo was taken.”
“Is that why she became—”
“A firefighter? Probably. I know something like that led to my becoming a cop.”
“Lisa,” Sophie said, and wished immediately she hadn’t allowed the word to slip through her lips.
He took a step back as though she’d punched him in the gut.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have mentioned her name. I don’t know why I made the leap to you becoming a cop...”
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s been ten years and she’s acutely responsible for what I’ve become. Not by design on her part, I can assure you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose it. Nightmares about her have tapered off dramatically over the years. I don’t know why they’ve returned. Anyway, did you look like Sabrina when you were a kid?”
“According to my dad’s photographs, almost exactly. My hair was longer. That’s about it. I wish I understood how that’s possible.” As she spoke, she looked around the room. It was easy to appreciate the woodsy casualness of the interior. When the fireplace was lit, she bet the small love seat pulled up in front of it would provide a cozy spot to cuddle with a special someone. Almost as though she felt the other woman’s emotions, she was suddenly washed with a feeling of loneliness.
“Sabrina really misses her husband. I hope he comes home soon.”
Jack didn’t question how she could say such a thing. “I know she misses him. But right now the main priority is finding her.”
“And how do we do that?”
“First we call our old friend Sergeant Jones of the Seaport police and see if he’s tracked down Gerald Duff.” He took out his phone and walked back into the kitchen. Sophie heard his voice ask for the sergeant. He was frowning when he reentered the room a few minutes later.
“Well?”
“The bad news is that Gerald Duff is a stolen identity. They tried dusting his room for prints, but as we know, it had already been cleaned. The plate number he left is also false. The good news is that they’re taking Sabrina’s disappearance more seriously. They’re sending an officer over here to collect the food samples we took from the breakfast tray.”
“It sounds as if they’re narrowing their search to the guy I saw in the hall. I don’t think he even knows Sabrina is missing.”
“Because he thinks you’re her. I agree.”
“Did you explain?”
“Yeah, but they’re going to go about this their own way. And in the end, who knows how much this guy saw? He may not be responsible for Sabrina’s disappearance, but if he was stalking her, he might have seen something that would indicate who is. Plus if they get him off the street, it’ll be safer for you.”
“What do we do in the meantime?”
“Conduct our own investigation. I’m going to tackle Buzz’s desk computer. It’s time to contact him. Sabrina’s been gone for almost twenty-four hours. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that something has happened to her.”
“Mine either,” Sophie said.
“How about you look through the drawers and see if you find anything that sheds light on this situation.”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other for a long second, then Jack closed the distance between them and gently put his arms around her. For a moment, Sophie froze, but then she slowly melted against his chest. He held her very tight. If she’d been cold, his embrace would have suffused her with warmth. What she gathered from him now was more than warmth—it was courage that flushed through her body, and hope.
As comforting as this was, his arms also sparked awareness she’d so far refused to examine. When he drew back to look down at her, she met his gaze, struggling to understand what was happening. He was a strong, gorgeous, kind man and she liked him, trusted him, cared what he thought.
But honesty bit at her heart. She more than liked and trusted him. It wasn’t just that she enjoyed his company—she yearned for it.
“You okay?” h
e asked as he released his grip on her arms.
“I think this house is getting to me.”
“I know. It’s so...empty. I’m going out to the car to get those samples for the police. Let’s find out what we need to and get out of here.”
Sophie nodded and escaped into the bedroom.
* * *
EVENTUALLY THE POLICE came and collected the food samples and the origami fox they’d found on their breakfast tray. They related to Sophie and Jack that a search had been launched to find Sabrina’s car and, hence, establish her whereabouts. Sophie wasn’t sure what Jack thought of their assurances; she only knew they didn’t help her a lot. If she stepped back and looked at the situation honestly, however, she wasn’t sure what else they could do. The man she thought of as Gerald Duff was still their only lead.
Meanwhile, Sophie found a cat box, food and water dispensers for the cat. That might mean Gabby was a house cat or it might just mean Sabrina kept her in when she traveled. At any rate, Sophie went to the kitchen door and called for the cat, but she didn’t appear.
By the time deep shadows fell over the house, Sophie had found bits and pieces of paper scattered around Sabrina’s desk computer. Lists, notes on hotel reservations, doodles, scribbled telephone numbers with a single name to identify them...nothing of import until she opened a drawer to reveal a duo of origami foxes tucked in the corner. Looking at the tiny folded dollar bills gave Sophie the willies and she could not imagine why she had ever thought them cute.
As she put everything back in a small closet that had yielded zero information, Jack appeared in the doorway. “She has a computer, too?” he said, and immediately sat down at the desk. “If I can get into her bank account I can find out if she’s using her credit cards. Look around for phone information so we can conduct a search on her calls. If she’s using her phone, it probably means she’s okay.”
As they worked, she asked him if he reached Buzz.
“I tried to call him, but that didn’t work,” he said, and her heart went out to him. In her gut she knew that his distress over Sabrina tied into whatever had happened to Lisa all those years before. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. And in this scenario, Buzz was Jack.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not positive what time it is there. I think it’s twenty hours ahead of us. Since it’s four o’clock here that makes it about noon tomorrow there. Anyway, I sent him an email.”
“What did you tell him?” she asked as she found a folder labeled Northwoods Credit Union and handed it to Jack.
“Everything,” he said. “If she were my wife, I’d want to know. He deserves the truth.”
“I can’t find anything about her phone,” she said as Jack typed in the credit union information. “I did find her planner, though. She has several notes about favorite coworkers. You know, meeting Sue for lunch or going hiking with someone named Kyle.”
“Kyle?” he said, brows furled.
Kyle Woods. She smiled. “Don’t get all excited. Just because a woman mentions a man doesn’t mean she’s romantically involved with him.”
“I know that but if Sabrina was involved with this Kyle guy it could explain why she disappeared without a word and why she didn’t want Buzz to know. Maybe Kyle’s girlfriend or wife is behind the foxes. Or maybe Sabrina tried to break it off and—”
“Slow down,” Sophie said, mimicking the advice he’d given her that morning, and yet she remembered thinking herself that harboring a secret could compel a person to vanish. She felt strongly that this wasn’t the case with Sabrina, at least as far as a boyfriend was concerned, but that was just her gut speaking and her gut didn’t have that great a track record. “The guy behind the origami is a man, not a woman,” she said.
“Well, you see, we don’t really know that, do we?”
“I still think you’re stretching.”
“I know I’m stretching but people will be people and we all make bad choices occasionally. Okay, I’ll get off that tangent for now but trust me, if I thought of it so will the police and they won’t be shy about asking questions.” He clicked off the computer and stood. “It doesn’t look like she’s used her credit card since paying for breakfast yesterday morning. There’s no way of knowing if that’s good or bad. I think we need to go to the fire station and talk to Sue and Kyle.”
“Agreed,” she said, anxious to leave the house.
As they passed through the kitchen, Jack glanced out the window. “The neighbor’s lights are on. I’m going to go take a peek at the porch and ask a question or two.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
But once outside, Sophie glimpsed the tabby walking along the top of the fence. A man in the yard next door was apparently taking the break in the rain to bring in firewood. He carried a load in his arms, but managed to free a hand to wave at her. With a start, Sophie realized he probably thought she was Sabrina and she waved back. “I’ll catch up,” she told Jack and walked toward the cat, calling, “Kitty, kitty.”
The neighbor yelled, “Have you heard from Buzz lately?”
“No,” she said as the cat jumped into the yard and started toward Sophie.
The man dumped the wood into a wheelbarrow. The resulting clatter spooked the cat, who turned on a dime and darted around the house toward the street.
Sophie followed at a run. She could not be responsible for losing Sabrina’s cat, she just couldn’t. She reached the front yard as the cat reached the far sidewalk and trotted onto the muddy driveway of the house under construction. Sophie finally caught up with the tabby when the little rascal stopped to wash her tummy. “Gotcha,” she said, and swept her up. The cat immediately went into limp mode and started purring.
“Now you’re all friendly?” Sophie said as she hugged the tabby in her arms and started back to the house. As she stepped off the curb, a white car suddenly appeared from a side street. A moment of déjà vu assaulted Sophie’s nerves and she stopped dead in her tracks to steel herself for another incident like the one in the garage. This car, however, slowed down as it drew closer, and the passenger window lowered.
Another neighbor mistaking her for Sabrina, she thought, until she found herself facing the barrel of a gun.
* * *
JACK WALKED ACROSS the wet grass toward the house on the east side of Buzz and Sabrina’s place. The only part of the house visible from their window had been the porch, but as Jack approached he could see the house itself was older and smaller than the new ones springing up in the subdivision surrounding it. No doubt it had once sat on this small plateau more or less by itself.
He was looking for a path around the porch when a sliding glass door opened and a pleasant-looking woman in her forties stepped outside. “I saw you coming from Sabrina’s house. Is everything okay over there?”
“Why do you ask?” Jack asked, suddenly alert.
“I just haven’t seen her around for a few days. I got worried, you know, what with her husband off on that job and everything.”
“She decided to take a little trip,” he said.
“Down the coast like she does every year?” the woman asked, but it was more a statement. “That girl is amazing. Who else goes hiking in February?”
“No one,” he said with a laugh. “My name is Jack. Buzz and I go way back. Sabrina mentioned that you had your porch painted recently and I was hoping you could give me the name of the guy you hired.”
Her expression turned quizzical. “My porch?” She gestured at the faded paint. “This porch? When? Did she say?”
“About a month ago. She just happened to see a painter over here. Maybe your husband hired someone.”
“Tom? Not likely.”
They both peered at the protected walls of the inset porch. The only new paint consisted of a couple of whitish brush strokes that stood out against the beige paint. Jack turned to look at Sa
brina and Buzz’s house and found his gaze centered on the kitchen window.
A couple of Sabrina’s statements lingered in his mind. I was at the kitchen window draining pasta when I thought I saw the painter taking photos of me... I just had the strangest feeling he’d been doing more than taking pictures...
A decade-old image of Lisa cooking pasta for a photographer flashed in his head. She’d survived the photo shoot but soon after—
Where was Sabrina? For that matter, where was Sophie?
“We didn’t hire a painter,” the woman was saying. “I have no idea—”
“I must have misunderstood Sabrina,” Jack interrupted as he turned on his heels and began retracing his steps. The back of Buzz’s house looked deserted. He broke into a jog and headed to the front yard, stopping short when he spied Sophie standing in the street, facing his direction, holding the wiggling cat. A car had stopped between him and her and for a second he thought she was arguing with the driver because even from a distance, he detected waves of tension.
He continued moving, wondering if he dared take time to open the trunk and retrieve his gun. It appeared the driver’s attention was on Sophie and not him. However, the late-afternoon light made seeing anything inside the car iffy at best.
And then suddenly it looked like Sophie tossed the cat right at the driver. An explosion sounded and the car spurted forward as though the driver’s foot reflexively hit the accelerator pedal.
Sophie took off at a run as the cat came flying back out the window. The car crashed into the construction’s trash bin that fell over with a bang, spilling its contents into the street. The driver overcorrected and his car came damn close to hitting Jack, who jumped out of the way as the vehicle continued careening until it smashed into one of the cement pillars holding a mailbox. Jack ran toward the stalled car, but the driver got it going again before he could get there and this time backed up and accelerated like a race-car driver, speeding off down the street until lurching around the corner and roaring out of sight.
