The Missing Piece

by Sala, Sharon

  “Stop,” Charlie said. “Is there any way to catch the car that’s leaving to see if we can get a tag number on it?”

  “I’ll try,” Rachel said and once again began switching camera footage.

  Each time they saw the vehicle, it was facing the camera as it passed. They watched it pull up to the exit—and then it was gone.

  “The tint on the window was too dark to see the driver,” Charlie said, “but there was a fairly good shot of him from the side when he first exited the Lexus. Could you possibly print a copy of that for me?”

  “Yes, but I can’t do that right here. If you don’t mind waiting, I need to run back to my office.”

  “I’ll wait,” Charlie said, still surprised by what he’d just seen.

  This was a slick switch, but it only deepened the mystery. Was Carter in on this, or had it been a ruse to keep the cops from looking for real kidnappers? When did Carter leave the Lexus, and did he leave it by choice? Or was he never in it at all?

  He was still trying to figure out scenarios when Rachel returned and handed him the print.

  “Thank you,” Charlie said. “Detective Cristobal is going to be as confused as I am by this revelation. As I told you, I really appreciate your help. And if you wouldn’t mind, please don’t mention this. Until Dunleavy’s disappearance has been solved, we don’t want to alert the wrong people about what we know.”

  Rachel smiled. “Sir, I work in Security. We know nothing, see nothing. Mr. Mauldin will be informed of the results, but it stops with him.”

  “Right,” Charlie said.

  “Unless there’s anything else we can do for you, I’ll walk you out,” Rachel said.

  “No, that’s all.”

  “Then follow me.” Rachel led Charlie back into the lobby. “Good luck,” she said, then left him on his own.

  Charlie took his sunglasses from his pocket as he went to the front entrance and put them on as he walked out into the sunlight. It was time to get back to his car and let Cristobal know what had just happened.

  He reached the SUV and started the engine as he made the call.

  “This is Cristobal.”

  “It’s me,” Charlie said. “I just finished looking at security footage from the parking garage, and you’re not going to believe what I saw.”

  “Oh, hell, what now?” Cristobal muttered.

  “The man who drove Carter’s Lexus into that garage was not Carter Dunleavy.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. Unless Dunleavy lost forty pounds and grew taller, it’s not him. The footage shows the man writing ‘Just Married’ on the back window, then tying Mylar balloons to the bumper. As soon as he’s finished, he walks a few cars down, gets into a Ford Escape and drives away. You might want to pay a visit to the hotel and see the footage for yourself. It’s possible you’ll see something I missed,” Charlie said.

  Cristobal grunted. “We’re the ones who’ve been missing the point, but it was all part of the overall confusion, and this only makes it worse. If these people were kidnappers, why take the car to the parking garage and risk being caught on a security camera? After what you said about the missing clothing and now this, I think you’re right. He’s running. But why?”

  “I have some other interviews today. If I learn anything new, I’ll give you a call. I’m guessing there are people who know exactly where Carter is and are helping him hide,” Charlie said.

  He disconnected, then drove back to the hotel. At this point, he was a stranger to Carter’s friends, and making cold calls to people who were likely close to Carter Dunleavy would gain him nothing.

  He turned on the radio as he drove, searching until he found a country station, and let music replace the empty feeling in his heart. The stolen jewelry showing up after so many years had resurrected old memories. Sad memories.

  Because of someone’s change of heart, he had the ring back, but he was never going to get Annie back. They didn’t have a future together anymore. He went from job to job, telling himself it was to pay for her care. But the truth was he’d rather be working than alone in the apartment.

  When he finally reached the Grand, he pulled into the parking lot rather than valet parking, gathered up his gear and got out. It was close to 2:00 p.m. when he entered the lobby, so he made a detour to the coffee shop, picked up some deli food because he’d missed lunch and ordered the largest coffee they had.

  A couple of minutes later he reached his room and went inside. He could tell that the maids had come and gone because his bed was already made, so he wasn’t going to be disturbed. He put everything on the bed except his food, which he left on the table, and went to wash up.

  As he was drying his hands, he glanced up into the mirror, eyed a few strands of gray hair at his temples and realized he was beginning to look like his father. Then he hung up the towel, went back to the table, kicked off his shoes—and ate everything he’d purchased without tasting a bite.

  Seven

  After Charlie finished eating, he opened his laptop to look at the report Wyrick had sent him on Carter’s poker buddies. In typical Wyrick fashion, she’d gone above and beyond on the background checks, including a DMV photo of each man, plus photos pulled randomly from the society pages of the Denver Post.

  It was immediately obvious from her reports that none of the five had money troubles, so losing money to Carter in a poker game would not have been an issue. He had contact information for each of them, and as he was going through the report to jot down the names and numbers, one of the men looked familiar.

  He checked the name, Rom Delgado, again, wondering if he’d met the man somewhere in the past. He was still staring at the photo when he realized where he’d seen him. The parking garage! He pulled out the photo from the security footage to compare with the one from Wyrick’s report. He didn’t have a clear view of the man’s face in the parking garage picture, but his gut was telling him that he’d found the man who’d helped Carter disappear.

  He reached for his phone.

  * * *

  Rom Delgado was in his home office when his cell phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at the caller ID and frowned. It was an out-of-area exchange, but so few people had his cell number that he answered it anyway.

  “Hello, Rom speaking.”

  “Mr. Delgado, my name is Charlie Dodge. I’m a private investigator hired by the Dunleavy family to find Carter Dunleavy. Do you have a moment to speak with me?”

  Ah, that explained how this man had his number. Obviously the family had provided it.

  “Of course,” Rom said. “Carter is one of my dearest friends. We’re all concerned.”

  “I’m going to be up-front with you in the hope you’ll be honest with me. I know you helped Carter disappear. What I don’t know is why he felt the need to do so at the expense of his family’s feelings.”

  Rom felt like he’d been gut punched. Two weeks had come and gone since Carter’s disappearance, and he’d thought he was in the clear.

  “Not over the phone,” Rom said.

  “Then where do you want to meet? And I’ll warn you, the police now know Carter didn’t leave the Lexus in the garage, that someone else drove it there. They know because I told them.”

  Rom felt the second blow land as hard and fast as the first.

  “It’s not what you must think,” he said. “Will you come to my home?”

  “Give me an address,” Charlie said, and Rom relayed it. “I’ll be there within the hour.”

  Rom blinked. Dodge had already disconnected. He sat there a moment, then hit the call button on his phone.

  * * *

  Carter Dunleavy was on top of the world. At least it felt that way from his viewpoint on the back deck of Rom’s mountain getaway high above Colorado Springs.

  The mountains always called to him, but he’d never
taken the time away from work to enjoy them like this, and if the attempts on his life had never happened, he would still be in Denver behind a desk. He’d had two good weeks up here, giving him plenty of time to contemplate his so-called accidents and the level of skill they required—or didn’t. He was still in shock that any of this was even happening.

  Carter had enemies and knew their faces, but nothing about this was professional, which was the route most of his corporate enemies would have taken. The final straw was having his brakes fail on a mountain road.

  He’d been at a wake held for an old friend. Dina and Kenneth had also gone to the wake, but in separate cars and he’d left a few minutes ahead of them to get back into the city for a meeting.

  When he’d first realized what was going on, it had been his driving skill that kept him from hurtling into the canyon below. But the faster the car went, the more panicked he became. There was only one way to stop, and that was to wreck it, so he drove straight into the side of the mountain.

  He wound up with a bloody face from being hit by an airbag. Every muscle in his body hurt to the point that he was afraid to move, but the car was spewing and leaking fuel and water all over the road. He needed to escape, and then Kenneth and Dina drove up on the accident. It was Kenneth who got a tire iron from their car and popped open the door to get Carter out, and it was Kenneth who fixed the backseat of their own car so Carter could lie down until rescue services arrived.

  Dina finally got herself together enough to sit down on the floorboard and hold his hand. She kept saying over and over how sorry she was that they’d argued, and that she really loved him with all her heart. All he could manage was to pat her hand and tell her he loved her, too.

  The airbags had saved him from serious injury, but that accident really had been the last straw. Although he couldn’t prove it, he suspected it was just the latest in a series of “accidents” he’d been having, and he’d begun planning a way to disappear. He’d wanted people to think he was dead, and had been counting on whoever was involved to show their hand by attempting some kind of takeover.

  But the days had passed and turned into weeks, and so far, no one had made a move on the company. Jason was standing strong against the fluctuating price of their market shares. None of it made sense.

  A shriek in the skies above his head shifted his thoughts once again to the beauty before him. He was looking up at an eagle, wings outspread as it soared above him when his burner phone rang. It could only be Rom.

  “Hello, my friend. Do you have news for me?” Carter asked.

  “I have some news, but not what you’ll be wanting to hear,” Rom said.

  Carter heard regret in his voice. “What happened?”

  “Jason hired a private investigator to find you.”

  “Really?” Carter sighed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s a dutiful and loving nephew. So what’s the problem?”

  “This guy’s been here two days and did what the Denver PD were unable to do in two weeks. He already knows you weren’t kidnapped, and he knows I drove the car to the parking garage.”

  “Well, hell,” Carter muttered.

  “I thought we’d gotten a pass with that, but we didn’t. He called to tell me he knows I was complicit in your disappearance, and he’s told the police that it wasn’t you driving the car. He’s on his way here to question me further, and he’s going to want answers. How do you want me to deal with this?”

  “He’s obviously good at his job. What’s his name?” Carter asked.

  “Charlie Dodge.”

  “When he arrives, I want to talk to him,” Carter said.

  “Are you sure?” Rom said.

  “Yes. And then I’ll have to make a call to the chief of police to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Rom said. “You’re the one who’s not safe.”

  “No, I got you into this, and I’ll get you out. But I won’t do any of that until I speak to Mr. Dodge.”

  “Okay. It’s your life on the line.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Carter said. “And just for the record, you’re officially off duty.”

  Rom frowned as Carter disconnected, then went to the wet bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, downing it like medicine before walking out onto the balcony.

  Being found out wasn’t an actual surprise. He’d been prepared for it, but then as the days went on, he’d begun to think fate was giving him a pass. So it was happening now. It didn’t matter. He owed Carter for bailing him out of financial difficulties years ago, and would do it all over again, if asked.

  His wife saw him and waved from the tennis court. His son looked up, then waved and smiled, as well.

  “I’m winning!” she said.

  Rom gave them both a thumbs-up and went back inside to wait for the other shoe to drop.

  * * *

  Charlie’s adrenaline was pumping. He was on the hunt and the first big lead had just fallen in his lap. He didn’t waste time as he left the hotel and was in the neighborhood in which Rom Delgado lived in under twenty minutes. From the sizes of the estates he was passing, it was very obviously upscale and exclusive. Not on the level of Dunleavy Castle, but each residence was unique and architecturally stunning.

  His GPS directed him to turn right in twenty-five feet, which took him off the street and up a drive bordered by two massive poplars pointing toward the sun. He continued on the winding drive, toward a decent replica of an Italian villa. Then he rolled to a stop and got out, carrying his briefcase as he went up the half-circle tier of stone steps, across a flagstone courtyard to the front door.

  He rang the doorbell and within a few moments the door swung inward. Charlie eyed the tiny woman with flashing black eyes peering up at him.

  “Charlie Dodge to see Mr. Delgado. He’s expecting me,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, sir, come in.”

  Charlie stepped over the threshold and followed her down a hall and into a sitting room.

  The maid paused in the doorway. “Mr. Dodge is here, sir.”

  “Thank you, Della,” Rom said and came to meet Charlie with his hand extended. “Mr. Dodge, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Charlie nodded, shook hands and saved the smiles and pleasantries for someone he didn’t suspect of collusion.

  “May I offer you a drink?” Rom asked.

  “No, but thank you,” Charlie said. “What I need from you are answers.”

  Rom paused, then pointed to another, larger courtyard in the back that was visible beyond the French doors.

  “Would you join me outside? Our discussion needs to be confidential. No curious ears at doorways out there.”

  Charlie was surprised. “Do you distrust your own staff?”

  Rom chuckled. “I distrust everyone. Except Carter. Please follow me.”

  As soon as they were outside, Charlie started talking. “Where’s Carter Dunleavy?”

  Rom shrugged. “He’s safe.”

  “I only have your word for that, and I don’t trust people, either,” Charlie said and then thought, Except Wyrick, even though she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on in her life.

  “What if you could talk to him? Would that suffice?” Rom asked.

  Charlie frowned. “No, because I have no idea what Carter Dunleavy sounds like. I want to know the purpose of this stunt.”

  “After you called, I told him you’d discovered our little deception. He wants to talk to you,” Rom said.

  “I’m not sure the Denver police are going to call this fiasco a ‘little deception,’” Charlie responded.

  Rom shrugged. “Carter asked. I don’t tell Carter no. So, will you please talk to him? He can explain everything to you, and then I think you’ll understand.”

  Charlie grudgingly gave Delgado points for loyalty and was beginn
ing to believe he might not be as full of shit as he’d first thought.

  “Call him. I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

  “Thank you,” Rom said as he took his phone out of his pocket. “Come with me, please.”

  They walked out to one of the ornate benches in the courtyard, looked around to make sure they were still alone, then sat down and Rom made the call.

  “Hello, Carter, he’s here and reluctantly willing to speak to you. All you need to know is Charlie Dodge is the real deal. I think you can trust him.” Then he handed the phone to Charlie.

  “This is Charlie Dodge. Your family—in fact, everyone under your roof—is hovering on the point of grief, so start talking.”

  “And someone under that roof is trying to kill me,” Carter said.

  That explains a lot. Then Charlie remembered the housekeeper at the Dunleavy house telling him about the accidents Carter had been having.

  “Are you referring to the incident your housekeeper mentioned when I was interviewing the staff?”

  Carter sighed. “I should have known Ruth would have my back. Yes, that and more.”

  Charlie listened closely, hearing sadness in the man’s voice, which was something he would expect if this story was valid.

  “Why do you think it might be family?” Charlie asked.

  “I can’t totally say it’s family, but it’s someone there. Employee, family, somebody. No one else would have the access to me to make that stuff happen, except someone under my roof.”

  “Who in your family would have anything to gain by your death?” Charlie asked.

  “The only thing they would gain are more shares and a raise in income. On the other hand, we’re all indecently rich. Jason has a nasty little drug habit, but it’s never become an issue, and I know for a fact that he doesn’t owe his soul to some dealer.”