by Jen Talty
“I don’t like what you’ve said so far, so I don’t think you’re going to make it worse. At least maybe I’ll understand and respect your decision.”
“I don’t think it’s right for birth parents to insert themselves into the lives of the children they gave up. Maybe if it were the other way around, and the child wanted to know… But even then, I’d still decline the case. I’ve seen what it can do to families.”
“But you’ll spy on a woman because her husband thinks she’s cheating.” She smoothed her hands down her slacks.
“You’re right. I will,” he said with a steely tone. “I’m not the only private investigator in town. I can recommend someone who will do an excellent job. In the meantime, I’m still happy to check in on your friend.” He downed his coffee in one gulp. “I’ll text you contact information for a buddy of mine. I send him a lot of cases like this. He’s good, and he’ll be discreet. I’m really sorry, but it would be like asking you to perform brain surgery just because you have a PhD. It’s not your specialty.”
She opened her mouth and snapped it shut three times. His specialty was finding people. Said so right on his business card that he’d given her when they first met. She had half a mind to call him on his bullshit, but the sudden screeching of tires spinning on the pavement of the road above caught her attention.
A van nearly missed a vehicle at a standstill at the top of their driveway.
“Stupid place to park a car.” Jackson flipped his mug, tossing the last few drops of the liquid to the grass. “Do you happen to know the owner of that vehicle?”
She stared at a light blue sedan. “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But the first cabin on the hill isn’t rented this year, that I know of. Maybe it’s someone looking into it.”
“Third morning in a row that I’ve noticed. But it’s never there before I go to bed at night.”
“Do you think it’s something we should be worried about?” she asked.
“I’m probably being paranoid. I should really get going.” He tipped his hat.
“I’ll see you tonight at nine.”
“I know you’ve got plans with family, so take your time. We can do drinks another night.”
“Are you canceling on me because I had a baby when I was a young girl and gave her up?” She drew her lips into a tight line, breathing in through her nose and exhaling with purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken offense to her choice.
Or maybe it was because she’d had sex at such a young age. Imagine if he knew the truth. That would blow his mind into a million tiny pieces.
“It’s not that. I just think with it being the anniversary of your father’s death and being around your family, it might be best if we do it another night.”
“I don’t need you to think for me.” She shoved the mug at his chest. “Thanks for the coffee.” She turned on her heel and stomped into her house, slamming the door.
She didn’t need Jackson to find her daughter.
She didn’t need him to have a drink with her.
Hell, she didn’t need him one damn bit.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at her mother’s name flashing across the screen. “Sorry, Mom, I’m not dealing with your drama today.”
Jackson took off his sunglasses, slipped them into his front pocket, and stared across the parking lot at the local bank in the middle of Saratoga Springs, about twenty-five minutes south of the village of Lake George.
He shouldn’t have been so harsh with his response to Shannon’s request. He certainly could have declined in a way that didn’t make him come off like a judgmental asshole. He respected the fact that she’d been brave enough to have a child at sixteen and give it up for adoption.
That had been the only good thing his birth mother had done, and he wished she’d left well enough alone.
“You look constipated. And whenever you scrunch your forehead like that, something is bothering you.” Katie said. “Now, lay it on me.”
“I just have a lot on my mind. Don’t forget to send the check to the painters. They really did a great job.”
“You’re such a girl,” Katie said. “Your smooth, chocolate-whatever paint isn’t going to act as some kind of truth serum, so our clients tell us why they really hired us. We don’t need to be their therapist, and we certainly don’t need to know all the sorted details of their lives. We just need the work, and we’re the best at finding things.”
“We are. And it was my sister who picked out the color. You have to admit, the office looks so much better.”
“And that’s necessary because we spend so much time there,” she said with all the snark she was notorious for. Katie tended to hide behind angst. He’d gotten used to it and found it endearing, but it didn’t have that effect on most people.
“Hey. When we aren’t on a stakeout, we might as well enjoy our surroundings.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” she said.
He did his best to keep his mind on the task at hand and not how he needed to apologize to Shannon.
Or how he wanted to kiss her.
And not just once.
And not only on the lips.
Shannon had been driving him crazy for months. And while she always politely declined his advances, she continued to passively flirt—if there was such a thing. She’d give him a slight smile with a wave, and if he looked close enough, he could see a mischievous twinkle in her eye. A few times, when the temperatures rose above fifty, regardless of the season, they shared in-depth conversations about topics in the news. She had to be one of the most insightful women he’d ever met. Every morning, he checked the weather, hoping it was warm enough so he might be able to catch her hanging outside, sipping her coffee. He couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day.
Katie thumbed through the file they had compiled this morning. “According to our client, Miss Belinda Montgomery should be in the bank.”
“But she’s not.” Jackson pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket with the license plate of the sedan that had been parked by his house and set it on the dashboard. “Don’t you think it’s weird that someone hired us to find this girl yesterday evening, and then this morning, my neighbor asked me to check in on her?”
“What did you tell the pretty doctor?”
“Nothing, just that I’d check up on her friend.”
“No such thing as coincidences.” Katie tilted her head. “Is Belinda Dr. Brendel’s patient?”
“She didn’t say. But I’d say that’s a good guess. Once I heard the name, I knew it could get awkward, so I just told her I’d get a visual, which is all she wanted anyway.”
“Belinda’s a recovering addict, along with her roommate. That is just the kind of thing the doctor specializes in.”
Janice Hargrove, Belinda’s roommate, had been concerned that her friend might have relapsed. Jackson had to agree. “So, our missing girl is probably off filling her nose full of coke somewhere,” Jackson said. He knew all too well that addicts, no matter how many times they professed that they’d changed, used again. It was only a matter of time.
He’d given his birth mother a couple of second chances, and she’d snorted all the money he’d lent her. He’d smartened up when she asked him for a kidney. He never wished the woman dead, but she’d died two years after she found a kidney donor—of a drug overdose. His muscles tightened as he thought of all the people who could have used that kidney and wouldn’t have taken it for granted.
But his birth mother had been a selfish woman, never thinking about anyone but herself, except for the day she’d dropped him off at a fire station, where his adoptive…no, his real father had been working.
“People can and do kick the habit, you know.”
“For maybe five minutes,” Jackson said as he opened the door. The crisp air smacked his skin, but summer was well on its way, and so was the insanity that came with living in a tourist town. “People don’t change that much.” When his birth mother h
ad first come into his life, he experimented with drugs, looking for her approval. He’d gotten lost in the insanity of the world, but thanks to his family, he’d gotten back on the straight and narrow.
But he hadn’t been an addict. He hadn’t developed a physical or emotional need for the chemical.
He had, however, developed that need for his birth mother. In a way, she’d become his drug of choice. He wondered if he’d still allow her in and out of his life had she not ripped his heart from his chest and fed it to the wolves.
“You’re the most optimistic person I know, except with this particular subject. Well, this and marriage, but I know why you’re not a fan of wedded bliss. But why don’t you think people can change their stripes?” Katie took off her hat, fiddled with her ponytail, and then leapt from the Jeep, landing perfectly in her three-inch heels, which didn’t go with her torn-up pants. He couldn’t even tell if they were sweats, fatigues, or maybe a pair of mangled slacks.
“Because I’ve seen it time and time again. Only five percent of those who kick the habit stay the course for life. That’s a fact.”
“That’s a statistic, and it could be wrong.” Katie adjusted her baseball cap, showing off her French manicure. She took long strides, her heels clicking against the pavement. It amazed him that the woman didn’t fall on her face half the time.
They continued walking toward the bank’s entrance. The sun beat down on the dark pavement. It would hit sixty-five by noon. He opened the door, and they entered the institution. It was a relatively small bank. Three tellers and a drive-thru window to the right of the doors. To the left was a welcome desk, a white-haired woman sitting behind it with a big smile. “May I help you?” she asked.
“We’d like to speak to Miss Montgomery,” Katie said with a return smile.
“I’m sorry, she’s not here today. Can someone else help you?”
“May we speak with her boss?” Katie asked.
“One moment please,” the woman said, then turned her chair and slowly lowered herself. She took a few steps before she disappeared behind a wall to what appeared to be four offices, cubical style.
Jackson and Katie waited patiently for about five minutes before the elderly woman reappeared. “Ms. Timms will see you now.” She waved them in.
Jackson followed Katie into the office. He almost always let her take the lead. A short, heavyset, middle-aged woman who couldn’t be taller than five feet greeted them. She stood behind her desk with an extended hand. “I am Lisa Timms, the bank manager. What can I help you with today?”
“Ms. Timms. My name is Jackson Armstrong, and this is Katie Bateman,” Jackson started. “We don’t want to alarm you, but we are private investigators and are looking for Belinda Montgomery.”
Ms. Timms sat down and folded her hands on the desk. She looked him directly in the eye when she spoke. “I cannot discuss my employees with you. I am sorry.”
“Can you at least tell us when you last spoke to Miss Montgomery?” Katie asked in her best feminine voice, the one she thought other women related to. In reality, they didn’t.
“Thursday.” Ms. Timms frowned. “If something has happened and I need to speak to the police or something, then I would be more than happy to cooperate with them.”
Katie leaned forward, resting her hand on the desk. Her smile seemed forced, but then again, he knew her too well. Others didn’t have his insight. “We don’t mean to alarm you, ma’am. A friend of Miss Montgomery’s is concerned because she has not heard from her in a while.”
Ms. Timms let out a long breath. “Well, I can tell you that Miss Montgomery requested a few days off. She’s an excellent employee and has never taken a sick day, so I gave her the personal time. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Now, it was Ms. Timms’ turn to lean in. “Between you and me.” Ms. Timms looked about the office before focusing her attention on Katie. “If this is her roommate, I know they had somewhat of an argument. So maybe Miss Montgomery just needed a little space.”
“Really,” Jackson said. “Can you elaborate?” He didn’t have the same charm as Katie did, but women generally responded to him just the same.
“No.” Ms. Timms leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “I would be gossiping and talking out of turn. I’ve already said too much, but I thought you should know you could be on a wild goose chase. I’m sure she’s just having a romantic getaway.”
“Romantic?” Jackson questioned, a bit dismayed that his charm hadn’t gotten more from the woman.
“Oh, dear. Me and my big mouth.” Ms. Timms fanned herself.
“When is Miss Montgomery due back to work?” Katie asked.
“In two days,” Ms. Timms said.
“So…Wednesday,” Jackson clarified.
“Shall I have her give you a call when she returns?” Ms. Timms asked as she leaned back and folded her arms across her chest in a closed-off manner.
Jackson knew when to call it quits. He stood and pulled out a business card, placing it face-up on the desk. “Yes, please do.”
“Thank you for your time,” Katie said, glancing up at him with an evil stare.
She liked to be in control. All the time. She always wanted to call the shots, and for the most part, she was always on point. But sometimes, she pushed too hard. This would be one of those times.
They made their way back outside, where the temperature had already risen at least five degrees.
Katie’s temp probably exceeded that of a hot tub. “You excused us a little too early.”
“She wasn’t going to give us more. Besides, she doesn’t know any more,” he said.
“You don’t know that.”
Jackson wasn’t about to continue down this road. “If Belinda requested time off from the bank, I think she would have canceled and rescheduled her visit with Shannon.”
“When was her appointment?”
“Last Friday. Which means, she knew she wouldn’t be around when she asked for the time off. So, again, it doesn’t make sense for her to blow off the appointment.” Jackson got in the Jeep and grabbed the piece of paper he’d left on the dashboard.
“I don’t know. A lot of people forget about doctor appointments or feel guilty about canceling, so they just don’t go.”
“Maybe.” He pulled his iPad from the backseat, opened email, and sent the license plate number to a cop friend.
“What are you doing?” Katie fired up the Jeep. It sputtered, then let out a loud roar as she pressed on the gas.
“You need a new muffler,” he said.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Having a friend check a license plate number.” He folded the iPad case closed and returned it to the backseat. “I meant to do it earlier. A car’s been at the top of my driveway for three mornings in a row.”
“That’s weird,” Katie said. “Why do you think it’s suspicious, other than it not being a safe place to park?”
“Have you ever known me to be anything but guarded?” he said. Shannon was most likely right about it being someone looking into renting one of the cottages. “I’ve got a weird vibe about this Belinda Montgomery case.”
“So do I.” Katie got back onto the Northway, headed toward Lake George. “I suspect Ms. Timms is more of a gossip, so I think we can push her if we have to.”
“I agree.” Jackson grabbed hold of the holy-shit bar. “When are you going to learn this Jeep is not a race car?”
“The moment you stop caring about decorating.”
“Har, har,” he said, glancing at the speedometer. “Geez, lucky for you, your boyfriend is an assistant district attorney.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said with venom. “Janice said they had a fight on Friday about how Belinda hadn’t cleaned up her dirty dishes. But, seriously, that’s not a reason to disappear for days without a word.”
“Which is why I think she fell off the wagon.”
“You really need to start giving people the benefit of the dou
bt,” Katie said. “But in this case, I have to agree. Which is why you need to talk to that doctor neighbor of yours.”
“She’s not going to be able to give us any insight.” Jackson continued gripping the bar above his head as Katie weaved in and out of traffic. “Seriously, you’re going to get a ticket.”
She pointed to the sticker on her windshield. “I have friends in high places, and you need to use that charm you swear you have on Shannon. We need to know where to look. Janice didn’t know Belinda until after rehab, so she doesn’t know much about her past. I’m sure her shrink will know more.”
“She’s not a shrink; she’s a therapist.”
“Whatever. Just promise me you will talk to her.”
“I will, but I’m going to be honest with her about why I want to know.” And he’d apologize, too.
Katie shook her head. “Then she’s going to clam up on us, protecting her client.”
“Ah, ye of little faith. You underestimate my ability to charm women.”
Katie laughed. Loudly. “You do know that most women think you’re gay after spending about five minutes with you, right? Really, you shouldn’t let on all you know about decorating and fashion and all that girly stuff. We’re never going to get you a woman.”
It was his turn to laugh, and he tossed in a flick of his hair for good measure. “First, I’ve already landed one woman.”
“Who turned out to be a bitch.”
That cut his laugh short. “This, coming from a woman who doesn’t even own a dress, much less a decent pair of slacks. Seriously, no wonder you’re still single.”
“Oh, bite me.”
“Nice mouth.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, adjusting her baseball cap as she slowed down to go through the EZPass lane. “Just talk to the good old doctor. I’m going to drop you off at the office and tell Jessica she needs to file an official missing person’s case. At least that way, I can get some of our friends down there to help me out with some intel.”
“Good tax dollars at work. Get the PI to do all the grunt labor.”
“Hey, we’re getting paid on this one, so bite your tongue.”
