by Nancy CoCo
“I turned off the ringer,” Rex said.
“Well, we got ourselves a bit of a situation,” Brent said. His gaze flickered back to me nervously.
“What’s going on?” Rex asked, and put his drink down.
“It’s Trent Jessop,” Brent said. “He’s missing.”
“How long?” Rex asked, his face settling into the serious flatness of a cop on duty.
“Paige came into the station in a panic. She said he was supposed to be at the Jessops’ office this morning but never showed. She spent the day trying to get ahold of him.”
“Did he get called to Chicago?”
“Yeah, no one’s seen him leave the island,” Brent said. “There was a note. It was addressed to Allie McMurphy.”
Rex said something dark and dangerous under his breath.
I put my glass of wine down on an end table and wrapped my hands around my waist. “What did it say?”
“We didn’t open it,” Brent said. He looked at Rex. “We tried to get ahold of you. Then we tried to get ahold of Allie and Jenn said she was here with you.”
“Do you have the letter?” Rex asked.
“I thought it was best to keep it at the station,” Brent said.
“Good call.” Rex grabbed his keys from a small container near the door. “Shall we go?” He put his hand on my back and guided me out the door.
“How is Paige?” I asked.
“She’s not good,” Brent said. “She said they had a fight the night before. It seems the last thing she said to him wasn’t very nice.”
“What did they fight about?” Rex asked.
“Something to do with the business,” Brent said. “I have Lasko taking her statement.”
“You don’t think Paige had anything to do with Trent being missing, do you?” I asked.
“No,” Brent said, his mouth in a tight line. “No.”
“Taking statements starts the file,” Rex explained.
“You don’t have to wait twenty-four hours, do you?” I asked, suddenly horrified over what could happen to Trent if the killer had him that long. Thoughts of the last two dead men rose in my mind.
“No,” Rex said. “Paige is a reliable reporter. If she is worried, then we’ll start the case.” Rex looked at Brent. “That said, check the airport and the ferries. Make sure he didn’t just leave the island. Also, call Chicago and see if anyone knows where he might be.” He looked at me. “When did you see him last?”
“When we found the last dead body,” I said. “He was there.” I looked at Rex. “Do you think the killer saw me talking to Trent? Is this some way to get me to play?”
“We can’t know that,” Rex said.
We arrived at the police station. The activity at the front desk was busy. The officers were on the phone, trying to track down Trent. Rex opened the door to the offices and we walked into a bustling hive. Paige sat in Rex’s office, her face puffy from tears. She had a wad of tissues in her hand.
“Oh, Allie,” Paige said, and stood. She hugged me. “I’m so worried. Have you heard from him?”
“No,” I said, and hugged her back. “Sit,” I said. “Can I get you something? Tea? Water?”
“I’ll get her a water,” Office Lasko said. She stepped out and spoke to Rex in low tones.
Paige held my hands and I took the chair beside her across from Rex’s big desk. “Tell me what happened,” I said.
“I just . . . we fought . . . Please tell me you saw him today.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t. Things have been crazy. I found Mr. Johnson’s nephew dead. That was the last time I saw Trent. He was still trying to convince me to date him.” I squeezed her hands. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
“He came to me the next morning,” Paige said. “He wanted me to agree to give up the island businesses.” She looked at me, her face an expression of guilt. “I told him no. I thought he was asking because he didn’t think I could do a good job with the businesses. I was insulted. I told him Father wouldn’t have given them to me if he didn’t believe I could do a good job.”
“It wasn’t that Trent didn’t think you could do it,” I said. “He was trying to convince me to see him again. I told him that I didn’t want to date a man who was gone all the time. I don’t want to live in Chicago. It doesn’t make any sense for us to see each other anymore. He has a wonderful opportunity with your father’s businesses . . .”
“Oh,” Paige said, and sat back. “Oh.” She slumped in her chair. “The idiot.”
“I’m sorry?”
“He must have thought if he had the island businesses you would see him as a viable candidate.”
“I told him not to do anything for me. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone choosing between opportunities. You and Trent have so many opportunities now.”
“I’m afraid I said some very mean things to him,” Paige said. “I told him to get out and not come back. He left. It was the last time I saw him.”
“Are you sure he didn’t stay at one of the hotels?”
“Yes,” she said, and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “I contacted all my managers. No one has seen him. It’s as if he vanished off the face of the earth.”
“We’ll find him,” I said.
“Officer Pulaski said there was a note,” Rex said as he walked in the room, all lethal muscle and action hero–looking.
“Yes,” Paige said. She pointed to an envelope on the top of his desk. “I found it wedged between my storm door and the front door.” She looked at me. “I was confused because it has your name on it, not mine.”
“Who would put a letter in your door with my name on it?” I asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” Paige said. Her grip on my hands tightened. “I don’t even know if it has anything to do with Trent’s disappearance. It simply seemed so out of place.”
“May I open it?” Rex asked.
“Yes,” I said.
Rex slid on a pair of gloves, grabbed a letter opener, and sliced through the envelope. A careful examination of the inside showed only a single piece of stationery. The stationery matched the envelope. It was cream-colored and seemed expensive.
He pulled out the letter and opened it.
“What does it say?”
Rex frowned. “Why aren’t you trying? I’m upping the stakes. You have forty-eight hours to find him. Nxa4 Nxe4 and white faces considerable difficulties.” He looked at me. “Sounds like he’s still playing the chess game.”
“Yes, he seems to be playing both sides.”
“Hmm, both sides,” Rex said. “Anyone trying to help you with this case?”
“Mr. Beecher,” I said. “Sandy and Jenn. Why?”
“You said that the notes reference a chess game and it appears the killer is playing both sides.”
“So it’s someone who is helping me,” I said, and sat back.
“What do they mean by forty-eight hours?” Paige asked. “What will happen in forty-eight hours?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and gritted my teeth. “I don’t want to find out.”
“Are you white?” Paige asked. “It says ‘white faces considerable difficulties.’”
“I don’t know. I guess. Black opened the game. But why would the killer take Trent? It doesn’t make any sense. We established that he’s been killing loner men. Trent is high-profile.”
“Why stick the note in my door?” Paige asked.
“The killer must believe that Allie and Trent are dating,” Rex said.
“You think he’s trying to scare me? Because it’s working.”
“Things are escalating,” Rex said. “I don’t like it. Both of you ladies need to consider staying with friends. Better yet, leaving the island.”
“No!” we said at the same time.
“This is my home,” I said.
“I won’t be run off,” Paige agreed, and stuck her chin in the air.
“I’ve just installed a very expensive security sy
stem,” I said. “Paige, why don’t you come and stay at the McMurphy? We have empty rooms.”
“I don’t want to leave my home.”
“Maybe you should go,” Rex said. “It would be easier for us to send a patrol by one place every hour to make sure you are safe.”
“I don’t know,” Paige said. “What if Trent comes home?”
“He will text you,” I said. “Or call. Won’t he?” I asked Rex.
“Most likely,” Rex said.
“Fine,” Paige said. “If you think it’s best. I did call Mother. She’s flying up tomorrow.”
“I wish she wouldn’t,” Rex said.
“There’s no keeping her from her baby,” Paige said. She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t blame her.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Trent means the world to us.”
“Us, too,” I said, and gave her a hug. “I’m sure Rex will do everything in his power . . .”
“He better,” Paige said. She eyed me. “And what about you?”
“She’s going to go home and take care of you,” Rex said. His gaze was serious.
“Come on, Paige,” I said. “Let’s go get an overnight bag and take you to the McMurphy.”
“Brent, walk the ladies to Paige’s place,” Rex said.
“We don’t need an escort,” I said. “We’ll stick together.”
“I think it’s a good idea for you both to be under police protection for a while,” Rex said. “Please.”
“Fine,” I said, and stood. I took Paige’s arm and looped it through mine. “Keep us posted on any updates. Okay?”
“Fine,” Rex said. “Leave the investigation to us, okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “Come on, Paige, let’s let them get to work.” We left the station with Brent in tow.
Paige lived in a large Victorian painted lady. It was two stories high with turrets and a pointed roof. It was a classic cottage. We went up on the wraparound porch and Paige unlocked the door.
“Let me check it out first, ladies,” Brent said. He hit the lights in the foyer and left us to wait while he checked the house. After a few minutes he stepped outside. “It’s clear.”
“Thank you, Brent,” I said. “We’ll be fine now.”
“Are you sure? Paige?”
“I’m sure,” Paige said, and touched Brent’s arm. “Allie and I won’t stay. I’ll pack and we’ll go to the McMurphy.”
“Okay,” he said. “Text when you arrive at the McMurphy.”
“We will,” she said, and we went inside. Paige locked the door behind him. “You’re going to do something, right?”
“I—”
“What are you going to do? I want to help.” She wrung her hands. “I can’t just sit and wait while Trent might be tortured or killed.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.
“We fought and he stormed out,” she said. “It was just after dinner that night. I thought he’d go down to the stables and work off the mad.” She hugged herself. “He would have come around to my point of view sooner or later. He was open-minded.”
“He is open-minded,” I said gently. “He really loves you. He wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.”
“I didn’t realize he was trying to get you back,” Paige said. “He should have told me.”
“I think it’s because I told him not to do it for me,” I said, and rubbed her forearm. “Come on, let’s get you packed.”
We walked up the stairs that reached up from the square foyer. She had the bedroom in the front of the house with a rounded turret. She grabbed a suitcase from the top shelf of her closet and threw in a few clothes. Her room was done in soft whites and blues. The four-poster bed was cherrywood and matched the dresser. The blue-and-white rug on the wood floor held a floral pattern that was mimicked in the thick curtains.
The overall effect was one of understated luxury. Unlike my mishmashed bedroom with wood-paneled walls, her room was light and bright and clearly well designed. “You think Trent went to the stables,” I said. “Did you check with the stable manager?”
“Yes,” she said. “He never got to the stables. The thing is that I can’t imagine anyone overpowering him. Trent was pretty streetwise and in good shape.”
I could attest to his great shape. “Whoever took him had to know him,” I said. “Trent would be on his guard with strangers.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking,” she said, and flipped the closures on her bag. “Or it was a woman in distress. He’s a sucker for a woman in distress.”
I smiled wryly. “What if whoever took him had a woman ask Trent for directions or help in some manner?”
“He could have been preoccupied when they overpowered him and dragged him off.”
I frowned. “Someone should have seen it. It’s difficult to move a man of Trent’s size and stature. People know him.”
“That’s the thing that gets me,” Paige said. “I can understand how it might be easy to prey on loners. People who live on the fringe of society are rarely noticed, but Trent. Trent was noticeable.”
“Is noticeable,” I corrected her again. “Whoever has him knows the island very well. That makes me think the killer is a local. But who? I am going to look into who was in the chess club in 1956. I think it will help point out who the killer is.”
“I would have noticed Trent missing sooner if it weren’t for that darn television pilot being shot. Because I won the outside shoot, I was busy this morning as they filmed outside the stables and all the other properties.”
“Wait,” I said. “They’re filming?”
“Yes, I’ve been running around like a madwoman these last two days making sure they shoot my properties in a good light.”
I frowned. “But Dirk was at the McMurphy Sunday. He said the setup day was canceled because the equipment was damaged. I thought that meant the shooting would be behind schedule.”
“They were shooting Monday morning, right on schedule. Things must not have been too badly damaged. Do you think the damage might have something to do with Trent being missing?”
“I don’t know. It’s just random, you know? You said you were busy running all over. Do you think anyone on the film crew might have seen Trent?”
“We could check with the director, Troy Morrow,” Paige said. “He knows most of what is going on. If anyone saw anything, he would know.”
“Is it too late?” I asked.
“No,” Paige said. “He told me to call him anytime. I think they were working on a night shoot at the stables.”
“Let’s go,” I said. Paige picked up her overnight case and we left her house, locking it carefully behind us. The streets were quiet. Most people were either at a bar with friends or tucked in for the night.
Mackinac was like a small town. Once the sun went down the streets seemed to roll up. We walked from the Jessop cottage to the stables. It was a quiet and uneventful walk. I kept my eye out for anyplace that someone could have gotten Trent. The road was strewn with houses and tiny yards. There were a few gaslights along the street to illuminate it.
“He left after dinner. It was dark, right?” I asked her as we crossed the street.
“As best I can tell,” she said.
“They had to have somehow gotten him in an alley or someplace where people weren’t or the light is low.”
“The stables open to an alley,” Paige pointed out.
“Yes, but people come and go in that alley. Unlike this one between Market and Main Street.”
“Should we go down that alley and look?” Paige asked.
“I think we should wait until morning,” I said. “We need to be as safe as possible until we can figure out who has taken Trent.”
Chapter 23
“Oh, there are some bright lights.” We came upon a small crowd of people bustling about.
“Yes, they are shooting,” Paige said. She tugged me over to the edge. “That’s Troy there.” She pointed to a tall, thin, young man in tight, co
lored jeans and a graphic T-shirt.
“Will you introduce me?”
“Sure, come on.” Paige wound her way around people who were working, adjusting lights and ensuring the actors had good makeup.
“Hey, Paige,” one guy who held a camera said.
“Hi, Bill,” she said. “How’s the shoot?”
“Going well,” he said. “Lighting for a night shoot is always interesting.”
“Hi, Troy,” Paige said as we approached the director. “This is my friend Allie McMurphy.”
“Hi, Allie,” Troy said, and stopped long enough to shake my hand. “What brings you by? Hey! Don’t put that in the shot,” he called out over my shoulder. “Sorry about that. We need to keep going if we want to use the same light.”
“Paige’s brother, Trent, is missing. Do you know if anyone saw anything?”
“No,” he said. “I’m sorry to hear that, Paige. How old is he? Is he a young kid?”
“No, he’s a full grown man,” Paige said. “That’s a concern. What with the murders.”
“Murders?” He said and looked concerned.
“Yes, two men have been murdered in the last week or so,” I said. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything unusual?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said. “We keep pretty much on task or it drives the budget up.”
“Speaking of driving up the budget, I heard that you had equipment problems the first day you were supposed to shoot,” I said. “Are things back to normal now?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s weird, but a couple of my boxes of equipment showed up crushed.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “There’s no telling. I put in a call to the studio and they flew out a couple of extras. We only lost a few hours of prep time.”
“Hey, Allie,” Dirk said as he saw Paige and me standing by Troy. Dirk was dressed in a police uniform that mimicked Rex’s.
“Hi, Dirk,” I said. “You look official.”
“He should,” Troy said. “Costuming ordered it from the same place the police get their uniforms.”
“Wow,” I said. “Cool.”
“So, did you figure out who stuck your doggy in the basement?” Dirk asked.
