Mystery Dad

by Leona Karr

  Remembering the zest her Irish father had shown for his work, she felt guilty and a little cheated that she was finding the job quite humdrum. Patrick Kincaid had founded the business, managing it all by himself for years, spending most of his time as a private investigator, and wearing out his shoes checking out leads. But modern day access to all kinds of records had changed most of that. Thanks to her computer, when Kerri took over the business after her father’s death five years earlier, she had a wealth of information at her fingertips. Now, Finders, Inc. was quickly growing almost beyond what she could handle with one receptionist-secretary. She’d been interviewing for an associate, but hadn’t found anyone who really appealed to her. She used other investigative services when she could.

  Sighing again, she brushed back the tendril of wavy black hair that had drifted down on her forehead, and turned away from the window. Summoning her laggard willpower, she sat down at her desk, and began to attack the stack of files.

  A few minutes later, a buzz on the intercom interrupted her. “Mr. Mark Richards is here to see you,” her young secretary said brightly. “Shall I send him in?”

  Kerri frowned at Debbie’s tone. Her secretary was a recent graduate of business college and had great computer skills, but the young woman had little success in hiding her likes and dislikes of people. Debbie’s manner and speech gave her away every time, and Kerri could tell from the lift in her voice that the visitor had made a favorable impression on the young woman. Obviously Mr. Richards had sweet-talked Debbie out of the need to make an appointment, and Kerri would have resented the interruption if she’d been in more of a working mood. Lucky for Mr. Richards, she was ready to set aside a tedious report.

  “Yes, I’ll see him.” Kerri leaned back in her office chair, waiting to see what kind of visitor had put that excited trill in her secretary’s voice.

  The new client opened and closed the door behind him with the assurance of someone accustomed to taking charge of a situation. “Ms. Kincaid?” he asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

  She nodded. As he walked toward her, she noticed his solid six-foot build was balanced nicely with wide shoulders, a trim waist, and thighs that pulled at the creases of his pant legs. She had to admit his features were more than adequate for a magazine sportswear ad, masculine and damn sexy. He wore an expensive hand-tailored suit a shade darker than his light brown hair, a white shirt with button-down collar and silk paisley tie held by a narrow gold clip.

  Money, thought Kerri. And arrogance.

  As he handed her his business card, his dark brown eyes traveled over her as if he were doing an assessment of his own. Kerri entertained a moment of feminine regret that she hadn’t worn the new cream linen suit she’d impulsively bought the weekend before. She resisted the urge to raise a hand and smooth the layered waves of her short dark hair. Then she took herself in hand, stood up, and held out her hand for a shake. “Mr. Richards.”

  “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment,” he said smoothly.

  “Please sit down.” She nodded to a leather chair placed slightly to the side of her desk, and took her own seat. Swiveling her desk chair slightly toward him, she asked, “How may I help you?”

  He leaned forward. His dark eyes met hers directly, and were arresting in their intensity. “I need to find someone. Right away.”

  She watched furrows deepen in his forehead. Worried and maybe even scared, she thought His behavior was not unusual. This was familiar territory to her. Everyone who came to engage her services was caught in some kind of emotional turmoil. Almost always in the first interview, tension radiated from them like beaded sweat This handsome man was no different. Had his wife run out on him? A son or daughter run away? Or had someone like a business associate disappeared?

  Kerri put her hands on the desk in a relaxed clasp and smiled at him. “Whom is it you want to find, Mr. Richards?”

  “My brother’s widow.” His full mouth tightened. “You were recommended by one of my acquaintances, Ed Salinger, as someone who works fast and is very successful in locating people.”

  “That’s not always the case,” she warned him. “Mr. Salinger’s teenage son really wanted to be found. The boy told a half-dozen friends where he was going when he ran away. Sometimes it takes months—”

  “Months,” he snapped. “Even a week is too long.”

  “I see.” Kerri reached for a missing person’s profile form. Now, she was intrigued. He gave every indication that he was more than able to handle most situations himself, but he was obviously distraught “What is the name of the missing person?”

  “My brother called her Ardie.”

  “Is that her given name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Kerri tried to keep her expression noncommittal. “And her name before she married your brother?”

  “I don’t know that, either. About four months before Jason died, he married this woman. My brother met her in Reno on a business trip, and he never brought her to Denver.”

  “And you never heard her full name?” she asked, her pen still poised above the form.

  He stared at some point beyond her, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Then he shook his head. “No. Jason just called her Ardie. You see, my brother and I were business partners, Fidelity Financial Investors. Jason worked the West Coast, and I handled the Rocky Mountain region.” We were very close when we were young, and after college, when our parents died, we went into partnership. On the whole it worked out well.” Then his mouth tightened. “Then a couple of months ago, Jason was driving too fast on a California interstate, and missed a curve. The accident killed him.”

  Kerri saw the pain in his eyes, and let a moment of silence go by before she continued the questioning. So far her intake form was nearly blank. “Do you know where they were married?”

  “Reno, I think. That’s where Jason called me from to tell me the good news.” The gravel in his voice belied the happy announcement “Jason had already gone through two divorces, and after several other disastrous romantic fiascos, he never brought his women home and I never asked about them. Until the day of the funeral, I’d never met this third wife. She kept her distance from me during the services, and left town after she found out that Jason left only debts and partnership life insurance.”

  “And now you want to find her? Why?”

  “Why?” he echoed. “Because she dumped her three kids at my apartment and took off, that’s why.”

  Kerri put down her pen. Nothing about this interview was turning out to be routine, and she could feel her interest rising. She leaned back in her swivel chair. “Maybe you’d better start over.”

  He squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive my confused state. I’m earnestly trying to make some sense out of all this, and not having much luck.”

  “Take your time,” she said easily, and gave him a reassuring smile. “When did all this begin?”

  “Last night.” He took a deep breath. “I returned from a business trip around seven o’clock. After collecting my luggage and car, I drove to my loft apartment in lower downtown, and there they were! Three kids and a baby-sitter.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an agitated hand. “She must have used the key I had given Jason. The baby was screaming its head off. The whole place was a disaster area. Clothes and toys strewn everywhere. I couldn’t believe it.” He looked grim. “I still can’t.”

  “And what about the mother?”

  “She left me a note. Said she had to go away for a while. No hint of where she’s gone or when she’ll be back. She just dumped the kids and took off. Some mother!”

  “She must have thought you’d take care of them—”

  “Well, she thought wrong,” he interrupted. “I’ve never had time for a family of my own and even if they were my brother’s children—and they’re not—I’m in no position to assume responsibility for them. I want you to find this woman and put an end to this little con game of hers.”

 
“You think it’s a con game?”

  “What else would you call sneaking her kids into my apartment and dumping her responsibilities on me?”

  “An act of desperation?” she suggested quietly.

  Mark didn’t answer. His grief over his brother’s death had found an outlet, and made him ready to believe the worst about the woman. For a long moment, he struggled with his strong bias, then he sighed and admitted to himself that, as difficult as it might be, maybe he owed it to Jason to try to keep an open mind about the woman he’d married.

  Mark met Kerri Kincaid’s Irish blue eyes, and asked, “You think she’s in trouble?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “But what kind of trouble would make a mother do something like this?”

  “Anything at this point is only a guess,” Kerri admitted. “But Ardie could have wanted a safe haven for her children and decided to leave them with you.”

  “And then just take off? Giving me no warning? No clue as to what I would do with her kids? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Usually, nothing makes sense until you see the whole picture, but take it from me, there are lots of reasons why a person might want to disappear. Very often, it’s because he or she is confronted with something they don’t want to face.”

  “You think she’s running away from somebody?” Mark looked skeptical. “More likely she decided to take advantage of my financial status, and decided to make her children my responsibility.”

  Kerri cautioned him. “Everything is just speculation at this point. When we find out why she took off, we’ll have a better chance of finding your sister-in-law.”

  “But I don’t know a blasted thing about her. Nothing. And I wouldn’t know where to begin to start looking for her.”

  Kerri smiled. “I rather guess that’s why you came to me, Mr. Richards. There are ways of finding out all the things we need to know. But it takes time and patience. From what you’ve told me, your brother’s widow was concerned about money. That might be a clue.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “People often try to disappear when there’s no way to handle debts, or something more insidious, like blackmail,” she told him evenly. “Maybe the woman didn’t have a choice. There’s a possibility she had to run and wanted her children to be safe.”

  The skin on Mark’s neck suddenly tightened. The disappearance suddenly took on a different focus. He felt as if something ugly was about to change his whole life. “You think she’s in danger?”

  “I have no way of knowing, but it’s a possibility.”

  “Why wouldn’t she want us to try to find her if that was the case?”

  “I don’t know,” Kerri said honestly. “Sometimes people say they don’t want to be found, but they really do. It’s kind of like a cry for help.”

  “If she’s in some kind of serious trouble,” Mark began thoughtfully, “then we’d better find her as fast as we can.” For the first time his concern went beyond his own involvement “We shouldn’t waste any time.”

  “I agree. I’ll get things started here at the office and then I’d like to come and talk to the children. What’s your address?”

  He gave it to her. “But I don’t intend to keep the children there. I’ll have to rent a place for them and hire someone to tend them for as long as it takes to find their mother.”

  “I see. Who’s with the children now?”

  “The baby-sitter who was hired to watch them until I got home. Fortunately I was able to persuade the woman to stay until other arrangements could be made.” He surprised Kerri with a wan smile. “Her name is Cora and she isn’t bashful when it comes to lecturing me about my nearly empty refrigerator, and lamenting the waste of good space in my loft apartment. She was busy ordering groceries when I left and warning me to put everything out of sight that might get broken. I’ve got to get her and the children out of there before they establish squatters’ rights.”

  Kerri smiled back. “How old are the children?”

  “The oldest is a boy, five or six years old and two little girls, a baby of about five months and a little girl of two.”

  “Wow,” Kerri’s eyes rounded. “That would be a challenge. How are they taking the absence of their mother?”

  “Pretty well, I think. To tell you the truth, I’ve left everything up to Cora. They took over my bedroom and balcony couch. I slept in the den, and escaped as soon as possible this morning.”

  Kerri laughed at his harried expression. She was certain that three small children had succeeded in frightening him more than a roomful of hostile competitors. “Well, I would like to talk to the children. And the baby-sitter. She may be able to give us vital information.”

  “I could drive you to the apartment right now,” Mark said, deliberately putting pressure on her. Under different circumstances, he would have related to this attractive, competent woman in an entirely different way. He was well aware of her feminine charms. As she relaxed in her chair, casually crossing her legs, he deliberately kept his eyes from traveling up the supple curves of her ankles, legs and rounded thighs. There was nothing provocative about the simple white shirt-waist blouse and navy skirt, but he was well aware of tiny pearl buttons pulled slightly across firm breasts. He liked her femininity and her manner. He was more than ready to rely upon her competency. “You could talk to Cora and the children this morning. I’ll be glad to sign a contract and give you a check for your services.”

  “I haven’t said I’d take the case, Mr. Richards,” she said evenly.

  “But you will, won’t you?”

  Without looking at him, she shifted the papers on her desk. She realized she should take time to think about this assignment, step back, and not let this man’s attraction influence her. Her instincts warned her that she was courting an emotional involvement if she agreed to take this case. She knew what her Irish father would say. Watch yerself, Kerri, my lass. Don’t be mistaking yer heart for yer head

  He waited, respecting her silence until she lifted her head and looked at him. “I’ll talk to the children and then decide,” she said, shutting out her father’s warning voice.

  Chapter Two

  When Kerri came out of her office with Mark at her side, her secretary sent her a look of eager anticipation, silently asking, Are you going to take the case?

  Ignoring her bright, questioning eyes, Kerri smiled and said, “Debbie, I’ll be out of the office for a couple of hours. Is there anything on my calendar this afternoon?”

  “You have an appointment at two,” she reminded Kerri, as if trying to warn her that time could easily get out of hand in such handsome company.

  “I’ll be back before lunch.”

  Debbie nodded, but her grin almost shouted, Wanna bet?

  The Crystal Loft Apartments were only a few blocks from Kerri’s office, and they could have walked instead of taking Mark’s luxury car. In that part of old Denver, numerous old buildings had been renovated into fashionable loft apartments, and the street was filled with businesses catering to nearby Coors Field, home of Denver’s baseball team, the Rockies. Kerri knew the hefty price of real estate in this part of town, and suspected that Mark’s loft had cost a pretty penny.

  The entrance to the building was modest enough, and so was the foyer that was shut off from the rest of the lobby by two glass doors. Kerri noticed mailboxes and an intercom for each apartment mounted on one wall, but there was no sign of any kind of a doorman.

  Mark used his key to open the inner glass doors, and they mounted three steps to a large open area that had a wide-planked floor that was softened with woven Indian throw rugs. A casual grouping of a leather couch, two matching chairs, lamps and a redwood coffee table added to a simple elegance that shouted interior decorator. Everything was coordinated, even the expensive wall hangings adorning the dark brick walls.

  A modern elevator had been installed to replace the large, bulky freight elevators left in so many renovated old buildings. Mark shifted i
mpatiently, as the elevator’s signal light moved down from the fifth floor to the foyer. When the doors flew open, a slender, gray-haired man wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase stepped out.

  “How are you doing, Ted?” Mark’s greeting was casual, but his neighbor’s response was anything but benign.

  “What in blazes is going on in your apartment, Mark?” he demanded.

  “It’s a long story,” Mark said quickly, holding the elevator door open with one hand. “A family problem. But I’ve got a handle on it,” Mark assured him.

  “Glad to hear it. Some deliverymen were just up there moving in a bunch of baby furniture.”

  “What?” Mark blanched. Baby furniture! He’d told Cora to order in what she needed, but he meant food and the like, not furniture.

  “Don’t like to be unneighborly,” Ted said, frowning, “but I’m telling you, Mark, I don’t aim to put up with noisy kids all hours of the day and night.”

  “Don’t worry. The kids aren’t staying!”

  “Good.” As Ted turned around, he noticed Kerri for the first time. Glancing quickly at Mark, he deliberately waited for an introduction. When Mark missed the cue, Ted held out his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Ted Winters.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Mark said quickly, coming out of his fog. “This is Kerri Kincaid. Her agency is going to help me out of this…situation.”

  “Oh, what agency is that?” Ted asked, still smiling at Kerri.

  “Finders, Inc.,” she answered smoothly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Winters. So, you have an apartment on the same floor as Mr. Richards?”

  He nodded. “We bought the lofts at the same time. About two years ago. Nice place to live.” He eyed Mark as if he hoped things weren’t about to change.

  Maybe the man had seen or heard something that would prove valuable, Kerri thought as she mentally added his name to that of the children and the baby-sitter. Seizing every stray bit of information for possible future reference was automatic for her.