by Paige Sleuth
But an hour later, Kat felt more frustrated than ever.
“My search of Washington State records turned up nothing.” Kat frowned at her computer monitor. “It’s like she vanished into thin air.”
“Or she just doesn’t have much of an online presence,” Andrew said, obviously trying to buoy her hopes.
She sagged against her chair. “What do we do if she’s not online?”
“Simple,” Andrew said. “We’ll track down anybody who lived in town in the eighties and talk to them.”
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning Kat arrived for her waitressing shift at Jessie’s Diner right on time. As usual, the charming scents of whatever Jessie Polanski had on special tickled her nostrils as soon as she stepped through the front door.
Jessie was tallying something at the cash register, but she looked up when Kat walked in. “Morning, Kat.”
“Hi, Jessie.” Kat tossed her purse under the counter and breathed in deeply. “It smells delicious in here.”
Jessie fingered a lock of brown hair that had escaped her bun and hooked it behind her ear. “I’m cooking up a new soup. Carrot ginger.”
Kat grabbed a clean apron and slipped it over her head. “Based on the way my mouth is watering, it’s going to be a hit.”
“I hope so.”
Kat picked up a sleeve of napkins and started refilling the dispensers on the counter. The mindless work allowed her thoughts to drift to Andrew’s words from the night before and his suggestion to question anyone who might possibly have information on Maybelle Harper.
Kat peeked over at her boss, who was tapping on a calculator. Although Jessie had been fairly young herself when Kat was a child, she was still eight years older—old enough for her memories of the mid-eighties to be more solid than Kat’s. And her family had owned the most popular restaurant in town, a place where the locals often gathered to gossip. There was a chance she might remember hearing something concerning where Kat’s mother had moved to.
Plus, Kat had a lot of respect for Jessie. She had taken over managing the diner from her parents sometime during Kat’s fifteen-year absence from Cherry Hills, and, rather than running the business into the ground, the already successful restaurant had only flourished even more.
Kat set the package of napkins on the counter and took a deep breath. “Jessie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” She twisted around and propped her hip against the counter. “What’s up?”
“I’ve decided to look for my mother.”
Jessie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.
Kat folded her hands in front of her, feeling awkward. “I haven’t been able to find any information on the Internet, and Andrew suggested I ask everybody whether they know where she could be, so . . .”
“So you figured you might as well hit me up for info,” Jessie filled in.
Kat nodded.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t remember her.”
Kat had figured as much, but she still couldn’t prevent the dejection that sank in when she heard the words spoken aloud.
“Mom should though,” Jessie went on.
Kat straightened. “You think so?”
“Sure. She knew most everybody in town. I don’t know if she’d know your mom’s present whereabouts, but I could call her up if you want.”
“I’d really appreciate that.”
“Or, you can drive over to Spokane and visit her in person.” Jessie grinned. “She always liked you.”
“Mrs. Polanski was good to me,” Kat said, smiling at the old memories. “She never failed to give me milkshakes on the house.”
Jessie laughed. “That wasn’t something she did for all the neighborhood kids, you know. She only gave free milkshakes to you—and Andrew when he came in with you.”
Kat didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t realized she’d received special treatment, and the knowledge caused a dull ache to sprout in the center of her chest. She should have shown more appreciation for Mrs. Polanski’s kindness back then.
Jessie reached into a basket next to the register and pulled out an order pad and pen. She jotted something down, then tore off the top sheet. “Here’s Mom’s address and phone number. She’d love to hear from you.”
Kat took the page and slipped it into her pants pocket. “Thanks. Maybe I will go visit her.”
Jessie tapped the pen against her chin. “You know, if you don’t want to make the trip over to Spokane you could talk to my aunt. Helen Trotter. Did you ever meet her?”
Kat tried to place the name but came up blank. “I don’t think so.”
“She knew pretty much everybody in town, same as Mom. And she still lives in Cherry Hills.”
“I’d love to talk to her, if she’s willing.”
Jessie grinned. “Trust me, Aunt Helen’s always up for a chat. Just be prepared to spend the whole day listening to boring old stories. She isn’t above holding people prisoner in her house, and she’ll babble on until your ears are sore.”
If those stories concerned her mother, Kat was more than willing to suffer from a sore ear for a couple days. “Could you give me her number?”
“Sure.” Jessie wrote something on another order sheet and handed it to Kat. “I’ll call her up later and tell her to expect you.”
“Great. Thanks so much, Jessie.”
“Oh, you’re the one doing Aunt Helen the favor. She’s what you would call your proverbial cat lady.” A shadow crossed over Jessie’s face. “Ever since Uncle Nick died, she’s been so lonely. I always hoped she’d find somebody else, but I guess that wasn’t in the cards.”
“I’m sorry. How long ago did your uncle pass on?”
“Eh, maybe twenty years now.” Jessie sighed. “It wasn’t a shock really. He was always in and out of hospitals.”
“That’s so sad.”
Jessie shrugged. “Hey, that’s life, right?”
“I guess so.”
Jessie offered her a wry smile. “Some people lose their husbands, and some lose their mothers.”
Kat’s chest tightened. “Unfortunately.”
Jessie snapped her fingers. “I should call up Mom and tell her to drive over for the day. Then the three of you can all sit down together.”
“Really?” The thought of seeing Mrs. Polanski again cheered her. “You think she’d come?”
“For you, definitely. She’s been talking about paying a visit to Aunt Helen for a while anyway. This will just speed her along.”
Before they could say anything more, Kat felt her cell phone buzz in her pants pocket. She pulled it out, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted Andrew’s name.
She glanced at Jessie. “Do you mind if I take this?”
Jessie turned back to the register. “Go right ahead.”
Kat walked a few steps away and connected the call. “Hi.”
“Where are you?” Andrew asked without preamble.
“Jessie’s.”
“You’re working?”
“Yes.”
“Stop by the police station when you get off.”
Kat gripped the phone harder, not missing the urgency in his voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until your shift is over,” he said.
“You won’t tell me now?”
“I don’t have any details to tell, but I found somebody who has information about your mother.”
Kat’s breath caught. “What kind of information?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to come by the station and hear it yourself.”
Kat frowned. “You won’t tell me anything now?”
“I don’t know anything. Chief says he’d rather talk to you directly.”
“Chief?” Kat repeated. “You mean your police chief?”
“Yes. He’s been with the force since the eighties, when your mom still lived here.”
Kat’s stomach lurched. She didn’t have to
ask why a police officer from thirty years ago would remember her mother. It wasn’t a secret that she had been a drug addict, and Kat would be foolish not to consider that she might have a record.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she didn’t have the luxury of only seeking out people who might recall Maybelle Harper in a positive light.
“You still there?” Andrew said.
Kat snapped to attention. “I’m here.”
“So, I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay. Bye.”
Kat hung up and slumped against the counter, itching to find out what the police chief would reveal. But as eager as she was to race out of the restaurant and head straight for the police station, she couldn’t do that to Jessie.
Until her shift ended, she would just have to tamp down her burning curiosity and try to concentrate on work as best she could.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kat drove as fast as she dared to Cherry Hills Police Department headquarters after her shift ended at three. The officer at the front desk eyed her warily as she barged into the building.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m Kat Harper,” she told him. “I’m here to see—”
“Andrew, right.” The officer grinned. “We’ve heard all about the new love of his life.”
Kat blushed, unsure how to respond to that.
The officer rose from his chair and gestured for her to follow him. “He’s in his office.”
Andrew stood up when they arrived. “You made it,” he said to Kat.
The officer smirked before slinking away.
Andrew walked around to the other side of his desk and grasped Kat’s elbow. “Come on.”
She let him lead her back into the hallway. “Where are we going?”
“Chief’s office.”
Andrew headed toward a room at the end of the hallway. Unlike his own office, this one actually had windows, both on the inside and outside walls. The blinds were open, allowing Kat to see straight through to the lawn spread out behind the station.
She shifted her focus to the huge man sitting behind the desk, guessing he was the police chief. He looked as if he could bench-press the building without breaking a sweat.
As though he’d sensed her scrutiny, he lifted his head and motioned for them to enter before Andrew could knock.
“Chief, this is Kat Harper,” Andrew said, releasing her elbow. “Kat, meet Chief Kenny.”
“Kat!” the police chief boomed, hefting his sizable frame from a chair constructed for someone significantly smaller. He held out a forearm the thickness of a tree trunk.
Kat shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“We met when you were a tot, but I doubt you’d remember that.” The chief’s handshake almost dislocated her shoulder. Thankfully, he let go after two pumps. “You weren’t much bigger than a grain of rice back then.”
Kat rubbed her palm, surreptitiously checking for broken bones. “No, sorry. I don’t remember.”
Chief Kenny heaved himself back into his seat. “No worries.”
Andrew sat down in one of the visitor chairs. “So, Chief, what do you know about Maybelle Harper that you wouldn’t tell me until Kat arrived?”
Kat held her breath as she perched in the chair next to Andrew.
Chief Kenny folded his arms on the desk and looked at her. “I was a beat cop back when Maybelle lived here, before she disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” The word sent a small shiver racing down Kat’s spine. “From Cherry Hills, you mean.”
Chief Kenny nodded. “Yep, from Cherry Hills, but also in general. Wherever she ended up, she hasn’t left behind a paper trail.”
Kat stared at him, trying to ward off the sinking sensation threatening to engulf her entire being. “You mean she’s just . . . gone?” She’d never imagined her mother had dropped off the face of the earth when she’d failed to uncover information on her the night before. She just figured she hadn’t used the most effective search terms or accessed the right public records database.
Chief Kenny flapped his hand. “Gone, hightailed it out of town, on the lam, whatever you wanna call it.”
“On the lam?” Kat repeated, her tongue tripping over the words. “You mean she’s wanted?”
“Yep. You didn’t know?”
Kat shook her head, feeling numb. “I just figured she moved away and didn’t keep in touch with anybody.”
“It was more complicated than that.” Chief Kenny folded his giant hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “It was a big deal ’round here when she disappeared, but you woulda been too young to remember.” He squinted at her. “Still, I figured you woulda heard something ’bout it by now. Small town like this, word travels fast.”
“Nobody ever talked to me about her.” To be fair, Kat had never asked. When she was younger the topic of her mother had seemed sacred. Back then, discussing her real mother with those acting as temporary substitutes had felt like the ultimate betrayal.
Chief Kenny dropped his hands back onto the desk and looked Kat straight in the eye. “You know ’bout that bank robbery that happened ’round here in ’85?”
“No.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He grinned. “News had died down a little by the time you could talk. You ever heard of PNW Financial?”
Kat shook her head, an eerie sensation washing over her. She wasn’t sure what Chief Kenny was getting at, but she had a bad feeling about it.
“It was a bank that operated ’round these parts here,” he explained. “They were taken over back in the nineties, then again ’bout ten years later. I believe they’re part of Wells Fargo now.”
“Okay,” Kat said slowly.
Chief Kenny settled back in his seat. “The gist of it is that one of the Wenatchee branches was robbed ’round the time Maybelle disappeared. The thief made off with about ten grand.”
Kat’s jaw dropped open. “And they weren’t caught?”
“Nope. A photo of the robber taken from the security footage landed on our desk here. Folks on the Wenatchee force asked everybody in a hundred-mile radius to be on the lookout for the woman.”
Kat swallowed. “The robber was a woman?”
“Yep.”
She didn’t reply. She had a distinct sense where he was headed, and she didn’t like it.
Chief Kenny pursed his lips. “Cameras weren’t like they are now, you understand, but the short of it is that your mama’s wanted.”
“For bank robbery,” Kat said, feeling numb.
Chief Kenny aimed a beefy finger at her. “Exactamundo.”
“You’re not sure she did it though, right?” Andrew interjected.
Kat glanced at him. He looked as surprised as she felt.
“We ain’t positive, but the case has never been solved and she disappeared that same week,” Chief Kenny said. “Wenatchee tried to trace the bills taken, but that was a dead end.”
Kat straightened, clinging to the sliver of hope he’d planted. “So she could be innocent.”
Chief Kenny lifted his massive shoulders. “Could be. Hard to say since we weren’t ever able to talk to her. She just up and left.”
“Maybe she left for another reason,” Kat proposed.
“Like I said, could be. It sure woulda been nice if we coulda heard her side of the story though.”
Kat didn’t say anything. She really had no good explanation for why anyone would run away right after a big bank robbery if they weren’t somehow involved.
But she wasn’t about to admit this to a police chief and implicate her own mother.
Chief Kenny coughed. “Kat, I hate to say this, but your mama didn’t exactly have the best habits.”
Although she figured everyone who had lived in Cherry Hills thirty years ago knew about her mother’s drug addiction, his words still made her internal organs feel as if they were being compressed in a vise.
“I won’t tell you everything she was
into, but it was some pretty bad stuff,” he continued. “Stuff that rots the brain and ain’t likely to make even the most levelheaded individual act rationally. And some of that stuff could cost a person a good chunk of dough.”
Kat folded her hands over her stomach. “You think she robbed that bank for drug money.”
Chief Kenny held up his hands. “What I think doesn’t really matter. I only want you to be aware of the facts here.”
“I know she wasn’t a model citizen,” Kat conceded. “But I’d still like to find her.”
He nodded. “I understand. Unfortunately, I can’t help you there.”
“Well, thank you for telling me all this anyway.” Although she had been hoping for a better lead, she still appreciated the information.
Chief Kenny snapped forward in his chair, his elbows landing on the desk. “Now it’s my turn to ask you for a favor.”
Kat stilled. “What’s that?”
His eyes bored into hers. “When you find your mama, tell her I’m still waiting to speak with her.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Kat said as Andrew escorted her out of the station.
He darted her a glance. “What do you mean?”
Kat kicked a stone out of their path. “I mean, what if my mother did rob that bank?” Asking the question out loud aggravated the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “If I find her, I could be getting her into trouble.”
The thought had been gnawing on Kat since they’d stepped foot out of Chief Kenny’s office. As enthusiastic as she had been earlier to talk to the police chief, now she had to wonder if she might be doing more harm than good.
Andrew took her hand in his. “That’s certainly a possibility you have to keep in mind.”
Kat halted as a thought seized her. “What’s the statute of limitations on bank robbery?”
Andrew stopped beside her. “I’d have to check. But you do realize the statute of limitations is put on hold when a person becomes a fugitive from the law, right? In your mother’s case, if she reappeared it would be like the past thirty years never happened.”
“Oh.” Kat felt her shoulders slip a little lower.
