The Missing Piece

by Sala, Sharon

  Five-year-old Jade turned toward her mother, grinning broadly as she waved at the camera, before the merry-go-round took her away.

  She was on the shiny black horse with the red saddle and reins. It was her favorite, and she rode it every Sunday. Her hands were tightly wrapped around the pole as she leaned back and closed her eyes, imagining that she was riding in the surf down at the beach. She could smell the salt air, the hot roasted peanuts and the sickly sweet scent of cotton candy. The squawk of gulls fighting over a bit of bread from someone’s discarded hot dog was as familiar to her as the sound of her own voice. The music of the merry-go-round was so loud it almost drowned out the noise of everything else, but she didn’t care. She and Mama were going to get taffy when the ride was over. It was what they did every Sunday afternoon at the pier.

  She was coming back around to the place where her mother always stood, but when Jade lifted her hand to wave, Mama wasn’t there! An odd little spurt of fear shot through her as she rode out of sight, then she told herself Mama would be there next time. Only when the carousel came around again, and then again, and there was still no sight of her mother, she officially panicked. Now the music and the ride were beginning to slow down, and her panic was rising. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to get home.

  All of a sudden, two men wearing clown masks leaped onto the ride, pointed at her and shouted, “There she is!” They started running through the children on the ride, darting between the brightly colored horses forever in midgallop in an effort to get to her before the ride stopped. The children began to scream and cry, and parents were in a panic, too, trying to jump on the merry-go-round to save them.

  Jade screamed as the clown men came closer.

  Then there was an arm around her waist as someone grabbed her from behind, threw her over his shoulder and jumped off the ride, jarring Jade so hard she bit her tongue. Now she was not only screaming in fear, she could taste the blood.

  She was crying, “Help, Mama, help!” when she heard a gunshot and then more people screaming.

  * * *

  Wyrick’s eyes flew open, her heart pounding.

  “It’s the dream. Old news. I’m safe. I’m safe.”

  She threw back the covers and hurried to the kitchen, turning on lights as she went. Out of habit, she went through the whole apartment, making sure no one was hiding anywhere and that the door and the little transom-like windows near the ceiling were locked.

  It was just after 4:00 a.m. and there was no way in hell she was going back to sleep now, so she put on a pot of coffee. Knowing caffeine on an empty stomach would only hype her up more, she dug through the refrigerator until she found the leftover sweet-and-sour pork, and stuck it in the microwave. When the ding sounded, she got a fork and took the food into the hall. She sat down with her back against the wall, giving her a clear view in both directions, and started eating.

  After a couple of bites, the horror of the old nightmare began to fade. Needing something else to replace it, she began thinking about the files she’d been working on and wondered if it was too early to text Charlie, then decided it was and finished off the food. The aroma of the fresh-brewed coffee drew her into the kitchen for that much-needed shot of caffeine; she took the coffee with her as she went back down the hall to shower.

  By the time she got out, she’d recovered her emotional equilibrium. She drank another cup of coffee while she answered more emails and was out the door before sunrise, heading to Charlie’s apartment to begin the day.

  She’d had a brainstorm as she was getting dressed, and was anxious to return to the Dunleavy case. She eyed her sleeveless red tank top, satisfied that it revealed just enough of that dragon tattoo to be interesting, then put on the black bolero jacket, a pair of skintight black pants with a red pinstripe and her black ankle boots.

  Her face was bare of any kind of makeup except the black eye shadow beneath her brows that faded down into red on the lids, and the red on her lips.

  The red on her mouth had been applied in two focused slashes like the work of an artist with a definite point of view.

  The morning was already showing promise of the hot day to come as she got in the car and drove away from Merlin and his mansion. There was a front moving into the state from the northeast, so there was a possibility of thundershowers later in the day, which would lower the temperature.

  As always, she noted the cars that stayed behind her, and if any got too close or followed her too far, she accelerated and lost them in traffic. When it was time to exit the freeway, she drove one exit beyond the one she needed, then doubled back on city streets until she drove up into the parking garage attached to the high-rise and finally parked on the level next to Charlie’s floor.

  Within minutes she was inside his place and disarming the security alarm. She sniffed the air as she turned, then frowned. The rooms held a faint aroma of cold coffee and her lunch from yesterday, so the first thing she did was carry out the trash. When she came back, she sprayed some air freshener, then started a pot of coffee, and at 8:00 a.m. she sent Charlie a text.

  Carter Dunleavy has been withdrawing five thousand dollars every other Thursday for more than ten years. Don’t know what he does with it. Am running searches to see what pops up. Check Carter’s planner to see if there are any notations to explain this. Keep your phone charged.

  She poured a cup of coffee and took it with her into the dining room where they’d set up the office, logged on to the main computer and got to work.

  * * *

  Charlie emerged from his morning shower and was drying off when his phone signaled a text. He wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried into the bedroom to get it.

  It was from Wyrick. He hoped she’d found something he could use. After reading the text, he thought this just might be the beginning of a much-needed lead.

  The order to keep his phone charged irked him, mostly because she had a point. He’d let his battery go dead when he was on a case a few months ago, and had to admit the dead battery had been an issue.

  He’d been trailing a runaway teen and had tracked him into the swampy bayou country of East Texas. He’d even glimpsed the kid once before he disappeared from sight, but in his haste to catch up, Charlie slipped on wet ground and dislocated his shoulder. Then the kid doubled back on him, got to Charlie’s boat first and drove it away, leaving Charlie stranded. That was when he realized his phone was dead.

  He’d tried twice to jam his shoulder back in place, and the second time he tried it, he passed out from the pain and woke up with a fever.

  Another day came and went with him wandering through the morass of moss, swamp grass and gators. Because of the fever, he’d long since lost his sense of direction, and spent a second night sleeping in a tree, hoping he didn’t encounter any snakes.

  Then he dreamed about seeing a man waving a white flag from a window in a bombed-out house in Iraq. When he woke up, he made a distress flag out of the T-shirt he was wearing and tied it to the end of a tree branch near the edge of a bayou. He settled down near the water, as close as he dared, hoping someone would see it.

  He’d never expected it to be Wyrick, but seeing her chopper coming in low over the trees hours later had been one sweet sight. When she’d signaled that she saw him, he was overwhelmed with relief. Another two hours later, she returned, manning a boat with a rescue team aboard, and ever since, treated him as if he was incapable of rational behavior.

  Some days she grated on every nerve he had, but today was not the day, and the message was his first lead. Satisfied that he now had a starting point, he dressed and went down to breakfast.

  After ordering, he sent a text to Jason Dunleavy, letting him know he wanted to speak with the family and asked when and where it would be convenient to do this.

  He received a brief response that stated he could come to the Dunleavy estate around 10:00 a.m. toda
y and gave him the address. Charlie sent a brief acceptance and laid the phone aside.

  Again, the tables were packed with more conference attendees, but they weren’t bothering him. He settled into reading the Denver Post on his iPad, and didn’t see the woman approaching his table until she spoke.

  “Excuse me for interrupting your breakfast,” she said as he looked up. “You don’t know me, Mr. Dodge, but I know you. I’m Alicia Falco, Jimmy Bradshaw’s aunt, and I couldn’t miss this opportunity to thank you in person for finding him.”

  Charlie remembered the seven-year-old boy he’d rescued from kidnappers several years back, and stood to greet her.

  “Ms. Falco, it’s a pleasure to meet you. How is Jimmy doing now?”

  Alicia nodded. “He’s great. Today is his tenth birthday. I almost didn’t come to the conference, and then changed my mind at the last minute. Now I’m so glad I did. I just wanted you to know that our whole family is indebted to you for finding him before he was harmed.”

  Charlie smiled. “It’s what I do, Ms. Falco. My best to you and all your family, and tell Jimmy I said happy birthday.”

  Alicia Falco had tears in her eyes. “It will be my pleasure,” she said and then went back to her table.

  Charlie’s breakfast arrived, and he continued reading the paper as he ate, unaware that his name and reputation were spreading through the conference. The attendees who’d seen him last night began asking Alicia Falco how she knew him. He was unaware that many versions of him would be showing up in writers’ new romance books in the coming year.

  A short while later, he went back up to the room to get his briefcase, making sure he had charging cords for his phone and iPad. He got the red Equinox from valet parking, put the address to the Dunleavy estate in his GPS and drove away.

  Five

  Jason’s abrupt request to Charlie Dodge did not sit well with the family. They’d all been at breakfast together when Charlie’s text came, and after he responded, Jason made the announcement.

  “That was Charlie Dodge asking when it would be convenient to come and talk to the family. As you heard me say, he’ll be here at ten this morning, so don’t anyone leave the house until this is over.”

  The moment he said it, he saw the look of disapproval on his mother’s face, but his uncle Edward’s enthusiasm was welcome.

  “I don’t know what I’d be able to do, but I’m readily available to assist in any way that might help us find Carter.”

  Dina was outright angry.

  “You might have asked us before you agreed to his request,” she said. “Kenneth and I made plans to go antiquing in Colorado Springs today.”

  “Really, Mother? You think your little outings are more important than finding your brother?”

  Dina flushed. “No, of course not, but—”

  Kenneth patted her arm. “It’s okay, darling. We can go tomorrow.”

  “But that estate sale you wanted to attend was this afternoon!” Dina said.

  “I know, but there’ll be other sales.”

  “You are so generous,” Dina said.

  “Jason, are you going to be here, too?” Edward asked.

  “Yes,” Jason said.

  “Well, if that man is going to show up that soon, then I need to get ready,” Dina said and took a last sip of coffee.

  “I’ll go with you,” Kenneth offered.

  A few moments passed, and then Edward lowered his voice.

  “Jason, are we alone?”

  “Yes, sir. Why?” Jason asked.

  “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Dina. I love my sister, but she’s a bit unstable these days and I didn’t want to prompt one of her bouts of hysteria.”

  “I know. Mother hasn’t been herself since she began seeing Kenneth. I suspect he’s just using her to live a cushy lifestyle, and I’m guessing she knows it, too, but doesn’t want to admit it.”

  Edward sighed. “I feared as much, although subtleties often escape me because I can’t see facial expressions.”

  “Well, they’re gone, so what’s up?” Jason asked.

  “What do you think has happened to Carter?” Edward asked.

  Jason sighed. “I wish I knew. None of this makes sense.”

  Edward’s voice was shaky with emotion. “Since there were no ransom demands, I fear something terrible has happened. Maybe someone abducted him out of revenge. I know he made enemies.”

  “I have similar worries,” Jason said. “But that’s why I hired Charlie Dodge. I think he has a better chance of finding him than the police.”

  “I hope so,” Edward said, then pushed his chair away from the table and felt for the cane hanging from its back. “I’m going up to my room. Will you call me when he arrives? I’ll come down straightaway. Where do you plan to meet?”

  “I think the library is best. Plenty of seating and more comfortable than the living room, which is far too ornate and formal for this meeting.”

  Edward nodded, then left, tapping his cane from side to side as he went.

  Jason made a call to notify his office that he’d be late coming in.

  * * *

  Wyrick started another pot of coffee, and while she was waiting for it to finish brewing, she sat down at the computer. In all the information she’d gleaned from the computer downloads, she had a listing of Carter’s credit cards and a year’s worth of purchase records on every card. But she’d never run a scan to see if there were other cards with the same Social Security number or with variations of his name, and she hadn’t checked to see if he had any mailing addresses beyond his office and home.

  She was nothing if not thorough, and a little obsessed with perfection, so she began the searches feeling a sense of anticipation, hoping to find a smoking gun and give Charlie more leads to follow. She paused once to get coffee, then settled in to work.

  * * *

  Water dripped from the showerhead of the bathroom, but Buddy Pierce was oblivious. He was in the adjoining bedroom, sleeping off a night of drinking, and couldn’t hear the drip for his snoring. But when somebody pulled into the driveway of the house next door and began honking the horn, it startled him awake.

  “What the hell?” Buddy muttered, then rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten.

  He threw back the covers and swung his legs off the bed, scratching his head, then his whiskers, then his balls, before stumbling toward the bathroom.

  He came out, debating with himself about going back to bed or getting dressed and going out to see what kind of gig he could hustle up. He needed money. When his cell phone began to vibrate on the nightstand, he grabbed it to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me. What are you doing?”

  “I just got up,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “The family hired a PI to find Carter.”

  “So maybe he will find him and bring him home. I’m tired of messing around trying to make something look like an accident. I say we just shoot him outright and be done with it,” Buddy said.

  “That’s a possibility. But the PI has to find him first.”

  “Yeah, right, so keep me updated,” Buddy said.

  Then the call disconnected.

  As Buddy was thinking about returning to bed, his belly growled. No more sleeping. It was time to get dressed.

  * * *

  Charlie arrived at the Dunleavy estate with ten minutes to spare, and slowed down to take in the opulence of the place. It wasn’t a house. It was a castle.

  The medieval architecture of the home surprised him, and the landscaping within the grounds reflected the Irish countryside. Everything was lush and green, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the touches of color toward the back of the property looked like heather. As he entered the circular drive and parked, he half expected to be met at the door by a man in pla
id, with a pair of Irish wolfhounds at his heels. He picked up his briefcase and wasted no time getting to the entrance to ring the bell.

  A moment later, a woman who could have passed for actress Helen Mirren’s double opened the door.

  “Charlie Dodge to see Jason Dunleavy,” Charlie said and handed her his card.

  “Yes, sir. Please follow me. The family is waiting for you in the library.”

  He couldn’t help but gawk at the interior decor as he followed her down the massive hall. It fit the Irish-castle theme in every way, right down to a suit of armor and a family crest hanging above it. He didn’t know how long the Dunleavy family had been in America, but they hadn’t let go of their Irish roots.

  Then the woman took a turn into a doorway and paused just inside the threshold.

  “Mr. Dodge is here,” she said and then left.

  Jason approached, his hand extended in greeting.

  “Thank you for seeing me at such short notice,” Charlie said as they shook hands.

  “Thank you for being so proactive in beginning your search. Let me introduce you to the family,” Jason said and led Charlie into the room where the family was seated.

  Charlie laid his briefcase on a nearby table, then turned to the people staring at him with varying degrees of distrust. It didn’t faze him. In this situation, distrust was fair enough. It was pretty obvious as to who was blood kin because they all had the same red hair and blue eyes. The man with a proprietary hand on the woman’s shoulder was the odd man out with his dark brown hair and even darker eyes.

  Jason began introductions with the only female in the room.

  “Charlie, this is my mother, Dina Dunleavy Reed. She’s the only girl born in this generation of Dunleavys. My father, Devon Reed, passed almost fifteen years ago.”

  “Ma’am,” Charlie said, ignoring the displeased expression on her face.

  The man beside her straightened, obviously expecting to be the next one introduced, and then flushed an angry red when Jason passed over him and gestured toward the older man.