“No, that’s not what I’m suggesting—not yet anyway.”
* * * *
Once I got off the phone with Nina, I called my housekeeper Carolyn Higbee and let her know I was still in Columbia, and I had no idea when I’d be back in Washington.
“I hope you’ve been able to spend time with your family,” she said. “Kelvin and Rita are such lovely people, and they certainly deserve a son who’s willing to spend time with them.”
When my parents had come to visit me shortly after I moved into Mac’s house in Wesley Heights, my mom and Mrs. Higbee had hit it off big time. Ever since then, Mrs. Higbee had never missed an opportunity to remind me how fortunate I was to have such wonderful parents, and every so often, she would ask me how long it had been since I’d called my mom or gotten in touch with my brother.
“As a matter of fact, I’m having breakfast with my dad in the morning, and my mom’s planning a big family dinner one night this week. You’ll also be happy to know I stopped by my brother’s church this morning and visited with him for a while.”
“Well, that’s wonderful, Mylas. When I heard on the news tonight about Senator Allen’s daughter, I didn’t think you’d be home anytime soon. Of course, Babe won’t be happy about that.”
Babe was my black Lab.
I’d rescued him from an animal shelter a few months after joining Senator Allen’s staff. Although owning a dog hadn’t been on my wish list, I’d often thought about getting one, so when Lockett told me about a beautiful black Lab he’d seen at the animal shelter when he and his wife had been there picking out a German shepherd—replacing their German shepherd who’d died of old age—I decided to drop in there and check him out.
It was love at first sight, and an hour later, I was introducing him to Mrs. Higbee, who didn’t seem the least bit surprised I’d come home with a one-year-old rescue dog who weighed in at sixty pounds.
In fact, she told me she was happy to have him around.
I didn’t know whether to believe her or not, but a few days later, when I came in the kitchen and heard her carrying on a conversation with Babe—a name she’d picked out for him—I realized she was just as happy to have Babe around as I was.
“Tell Babe I miss him,” I said, “and I’ll see him soon.”
“Joe’s been taking him for a walk every afternoon, but I know Babe would rather you take him for a run instead. Joe’s not a very fast walker, you know.”
Joe Blondi was a gardener/handyman/jack-of-all-trades guy. He’d worked for Mac for several years before he died, and I kept him on the payroll at Mrs. Higbee’s insistence.
Mac had hired Joe after he was released from prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. Joe’s case had come to Mac’s attention through a set of bizarre circumstances, and he’d worked tirelessly for over a year to get Joe’s name cleared.
Joe was in his late sixties when he finally walked out of prison, and when he couldn’t find a job after three months, Mac hired him to do the upkeep around the house. Basically, Joe was paid a monthly salary to be at Mrs. Higbee’s beck and call.
Although the two of them spent a lot of time bickering, they seemed to have a mutual respect for each other, and when I asked Mrs. Higbee to stay on as my housekeeper, she wouldn’t agree to do so until I promised to ask Joe if he would stay on as well.
Needless to say, I hadn’t regretted my decision.
“No,” I said, “Joe doesn’t walk very fast, but I’m sure Babe doesn’t care as long as he gets to patrol the neighborhood every day.”
Mrs. Higbee chuckled. “You’ve got that right.”
“I might be back in Washington by the weekend, but until I locate Lizzie Allen, I can’t tell you anything about my schedule.”
“I understand. Please tell Rita and Kelvin I said hello, and in spite of the circumstances, I hope you enjoy your visit with them. You know what I always say about dark clouds, don’t you?”
“There’s a silver lining in every dark cloud.”
“That’s right.”
I immediately had a flashback of seeing Whitney sitting across from me in the restaurant wearing the silky black wrap with the silver threads in it. “You’re right, Mrs. Higbee. There’s a silver lining in every dark cloud.”
By the end of the following day, those dark clouds had become a little darker.
PART TWO
Chapter 19
Thursday, October 11
When I came down to the lobby five minutes before I was supposed to meet my dad for breakfast, he was there waiting for me. I wasn’t surprised.
Being on time had always been a thing with him.
“Hey, Dad, have you been here long?”
“No, I just got here. I left the house at six-fifteen because I knew I’d have to park down the street and walk a couple of blocks. I figured I might be a few minutes early, but I’m used to sitting around.”
“You could have left your car with the valet, you know.”
“Sure, but I’m not about to pay someone to park my car when I can just walk a few blocks and park for free.”
I pointed over at the Mizzou Diner. “Well, breakfast is on me this morning, and you know I would have paid for your valet parking too.”
“To be truthful, Son, I needed the exercise. I’m sure you see this little paunch I’m getting here, don’t you?”
Actually, my dad appeared to be in great shape. He’d always been a little on the thin side, so the extra pounds he was carrying around these days made him look a lot healthier.
When I was growing up, I remember hearing people say my dad was a good-looking guy. Now, even with his salt-and-pepper hair and his wire-rimmed glasses, I thought he was still a handsome man.
I patted him on the shoulder. “You look great, Dad.”
After the waitress took our orders, we chatted for a few minutes about one of Dad’s cases, but once our food arrived, he asked me how my investigation into Lizzie’s disappearance was going.
“Since we talked yesterday, I found out Lizzie’s car was seen in Centralia on Monday. Detective Ross told me they were able to identify it from the surveillance cameras near the square.”
“Well, that’s good news. Those CCTV cameras have made my job a lot easier these days. Any idea what she was doing in Centralia?”
“Not really. I’m going up there to take a look around after we finish here. Maybe I’ll get some answers then.”
“That’s a good idea. People in small towns usually notice when a stranger shows up. Somebody will probably remember her.”
“I’m not sure she was doing anything in Centralia other than passing through, but I won’t know that until I go up there and start asking some questions.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Would you mind if I changed the subject and picked your brain about something?”
He gestured at his plate. “I’m just here having a free breakfast with my son. You can pick my brain about anything you want.”
“Do you remember that gambling case you had back when I was in high school; the one where the Board of Directors for Greater Midwest Bank hired you to investigate whether the bank’s vice-president had a gambling problem?”
He nodded. “Sure, I remember. What made you think of that?”
“Before Senator Allen sent me here to look for his daughter, I was investigating a nominee for one of the federal courts. In the course of my investigation, I received an anonymous letter indicating the nominee was into the Vegas gambling scene in a big way.”
He shook his head. “That’s not good. I know you probably can’t tell me who it is, but I’d be surprised if this person was a female. Most compulsive gamblers are males.”
“Yes, this nominee is a male. Whenever he’s in Vegas, he uses a fake name, and he doesn’t quit gambling when he incurs heavy losses. Instead, he keeps on gambling, hoping to win back his money. On at least two occasions, he’s taken out bank loans to cover his losses.”
He nodded. “Sounds a lot like the case
I had, all right. This guy, I think his name was Bradford, turned out to be a compulsive gambler who devised a scheme to steal money from his depositors in order to cover his losses.”
“Didn’t he get violent when he was finally confronted about it?”
“That’s right. When he got word he was about to be arrested, he took another employee hostage and held the police off at gunpoint for several hours before his wife finally arrived and talked him into surrendering.”
“I remember when you were investigating him you took me with you over to the university to talk with one of the psychology professors about what to look for if you suspected a person of having a gambling addiction.”
He chuckled. “I must have thought you’d find that interesting. You were such a cerebral kid, always asking questions, trying to figure stuff out.” He shook his head. “You wanted answers to everything.”
I shrugged. “I guess I haven’t changed all that much. Right now, I’m trying to figure out if this person is covering up his addiction.”
“You may not remember this, but the professor told us compulsive gamblers often exhibit violent behavior.”
“I remember that. He also said they were abusive to their spouses.”
“Bradford exhibited both those signs, but if I remember correctly, his wife didn’t admit he’d been abusing her until after he was sent to prison.”
“The judge I’m investigating appears to be the ideal candidate for this appointment, so I’m having a hard time reconciling the rumors I’ve heard about his out-of-control gambling with all of his other qualifications, plus there’s nothing in his background that would suggest he’s ever engaged in any kind of violent behavior.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Bradford was the Chamber of Commerce president, a church-goer, and served on the school board.”
“At some point, I’ll have to question him about these rumors, but I want to be sure of my facts before I confront him.”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t go see him by yourself.”
“Oh, don’t worry; I won’t. I learned that lesson from you.”
He laughed. “And I learned it the hard way.”
* * * *
Dad spent the next twenty minutes reminiscing about some of the lessons he’d learned in his early days of being a private investigator.
Although I’d heard one of the stories before, the last two were new to me, and I listened patiently while he was telling them, but once he was done, I deliberately glanced down at my watch.
My actions didn’t escape his attention.
“Well, I guess I better be on my way,” he said. “You probably want to head up to Centralia and start asking questions.”
“Yes, I’d like to be there when people start showing up for work.”
“There aren’t that many businesses in town, you know.”
I nodded. “Last night, I pulled up a Google map on my laptop and checked out an aerial view. It looks like everything’s located in the downtown area around the square.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been there, but that sounds about right. Rita and I visited an antique store in downtown Centralia one time.”
“The town’s website shows three banks, a hardware store, a couple of churches, and the courthouse. And, you’re right; I also saw some antique stores and a few eating places. The police station is just around the corner from the square. I don’t think it should take me long to find out if anyone saw Lizzie on Monday afternoon.”
“Ah . . . you know, Son, I wouldn’t mind . . . ah . . . going with you, if you think . . . ah . . . I could help in some way.”
His offer took me by surprise, and when he saw me hesitate, he shrugged and said, “But, you’re used to working alone, so I understand if you don’t—”
“No, Dad, I’d love to have you along. I should have thought of it myself. Are you sure you have time?”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, I have time. I don’t have any appointments until four o’clock. I’ll just call my secretary and tell her I won’t be in until this afternoon.”
While Dad was making his phone call, I had the valet bring my SUV around, and fifteen minutes later, we were traveling north on Highway 124 toward Centralia.
Truth be told, I felt a little weird about the whole thing.
As I thought about it, I decided it was partly because I hadn’t anticipated such a scenario—my dad and I working together to locate a missing person—and partly because when I’d signed up to be the senator’s chief investigator, I never imagined I’d be traveling down the back roads of Missouri engaged in some run-of-the-mill detective work with a senior citizen who happened to be my dad.
My dad, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find anything strange about the two of us working together, and he did what he used to do when Curtis and I would help him out with a surveillance job—he went over the basics of the case before we arrived at the site.
“Our objective will be to canvass the businesses around the square to see if anyone saw or spoke with Lizzie Allen on Monday afternoon.”
Although it didn’t sound like a question, I responded by saying, “That’s about it. It’s just your basic shoe-leather investigating.”
“I suppose you have a photograph of Lizzie I could show to people?”
“Oh, sure. I’ll send it to your phone as soon as we get there. You need to be aware that Detectives Ross and Springer might show up in Centralia while we’re there, and if that happens, we’ll need to stay out of their way. I’m sure you know that, though.”
“Of course, I do.”
After we rode along in silence for a few seconds, he turned to me and said, “I noticed Senator Allen tried to downplay Lizzie’s disappearance last night during his press conference. What was that all about?”
After I explained about the senator’s wife being a private person and not wanting her children in the public spotlight, he said, “That’s funny because when Rita and I attended one of Senator Allen’s campaign rallies at the football stadium, I remember seeing his daughter on the stage with him. It was pretty obvious she was loving every minute of it.”
“Evidently, Lizzie is a lot more into politics than her siblings are. Her journalism professor told me she’s written several articles for The Columbian about political issues.”
“Is that right? Well, that’s not too surprising. Siblings are usually a lot different from each other.”
“I suppose Curtis and I are a testament to that.”
He chuckled. “Oh, yeah, and Curtis’s kids have totally different personalities too. You might be surprised when you see how much they’ve grown since Christmas.”
“Yesterday, when I stopped by his office, he showed me a photograph of them, and you’re right, they’ve grown a lot in the last year.”
“Heather hired a professional children’s photographer to take those pictures. I believe Curtis said she goes to our church.”
I nodded. “Whitney Engel took those photographs. She’s the lady I was having dinner with last night.”
“I thought you told me she worked at the church.”
“No, I think you misunderstood me. She was just volunteering there while the receptionist was on vacation.”
“I guess Rita’s right. I should get some hearing aids.”
I didn’t say a word.
“So, tell me. How was your date with Whitney?”
“I really enjoyed it. She’s a nice lady.”
“Of course she is. Curtis told me she’s a very strong Christian.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means.”
“It means she doesn’t just say she’s a Christian; she lives out her faith every day.”
“By doing what?”
“I don’t know her personally, so I can’t say for sure, but I would consider someone a strong Christian if they spoke openly about their faith, if they trusted God in the bad times as well as the good times, and if they expressed gratitude for what God had given them.”
>
“In that case, I’d have to agree with you. I saw evidence of all of those things when we were together last night.”
He looked pleased. “Your mother wanted me to ask you if you could come to dinner on Saturday night. She’s already asked Curtis and his family. If you wanted to invite Whitney, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t know, Dad. I can’t really make any plans until I’ve figured out what’s going on with Lizzie. As for inviting Whitney, you better check with Mom first. She wasn’t too happy when I showed up at the house with Paige. I’m sure you remember that day.”
He laughed. “It’s not one I’ll soon forget, but she might feel a little differently about Whitney.”
Since my mother had told me countless times she was praying for me to find “a good Christian girl,” I felt sure he was right. However, a good Christian girl had never sounded appealing to me.
Now, after meeting Whitney, I was rethinking that.
* * * *
As we entered the city limits of Centralia, I began looking around for a building similar to the one Lizzie had drawn at the top of her doodle page. Although there were a couple of large structures, none of them had columns in the front.
But, as Nina had predicted, the courthouse in the middle of the square had columns, four of them, and the three-story brick building also had a bunch of single windows on each level.
I quickly decided to begin my inquiries about Lizzie inside the courthouse, and I asked Dad if he would mind canvassing the businesses on the square.
He seemed perfectly happy when I suggested he canvass the establishments on the north and east side of the square, and after I told him I’d be making some inquiries inside the courthouse and on the south side of the square, he suggested we meet at The Lunch Box Café on the west side of the square and question the businesses on that side together.
Before I entered the courthouse, I sat down on one of the park benches near the gazebo and pulled up the Missouri Supreme Court’s website. After downloading a photograph of Judge Cameron Woodard, I stored it on my cell phone next to Lizzie Allen’s picture.
One Day Gone Page 18
