Читать книгу A Mother's Secret - Pat Warren, Pat Warren - Страница 10

Sara couldn’t look away from Kincaid’s eyes, which were studying her as if she were a bug under a microscope. Undoubtedly he was trying to see into her mind. In the bright, morning sunlight, his eyes were more green than gray. She wondered what he was thinking, worried again that she’d blown it by withholding information. Emotions had clouded her actions from the beginning of this whole affair.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t tell me this interesting little fact about Mike’s father before now?” he asked, his voice even. He couldn’t seem to get a fix on this woman with the big, beautiful eyes that seemed to hide a fair amount of secrets.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said finally. “I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t think his job status had anything to do with Mike’s disappearance.” And she’d planned to share only what was necessary.

“Mmm-hmm. And now suddenly you do?” He paused, thinking. “Let’s see. We have here a child taken on an unexpected trip by a father who can’t seem to hold down a job. The man is married to a woman who has a trust fund, but they live frugally, and now he’s accused of improprieties. Your word. At the worst, he’s a thief. At the very least, he’s guilty of poor judgment.”

“He’s not the brightest man I’ve ever met,” she offered.

“Are you going to eat your doughnut?” It occurred to Kincaid that he’d skipped dinner last night.

Sara pushed the napkin and doughnut closer to him. “No, go ahead, please.”

He took a big bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Did you say your sister went to college?”

“Yes, she graduated from ASU.”

“Where did she meet Lenny?”

“On a blind date. Later she hired him to do some minor repairs on the house.”

“A handyman? Doesn’t seem like he’s in her league.” Not if her sister was anything like Sara. “Is he handsome, charming, a life-of-the-party type?” There had to be some reason Meg fell for him, although who could ever say why one person was attracted to another?

Sara shrugged. “He’s not bad looking, in a rough sort of way. Medium height, brown hair, mustache. I’ll get a picture of him for you if you want. To be honest, I think, at twenty-one, Meg was overwhelmed at the thought of caring for a twelve-year-old all alone and married the first man who showed an interest.”

“They were married five years or so before they had Mike, right? Did they seem happy?”

She rose to put her paper cup in the trash container. “I was a teenager back then, pretty self-absorbed, and I’d just lost my parents. I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to their relationship. Besides, I’ve never been married, so how would I know what constitutes a happy marriage?”

Never been married. Why was he pleased to hear that? Wait a minute, Kincaid. The last thing you need is to get tangled up again, no matter how attractive she is. He brought his attention back to the matter at hand. “Maybe because you lived under the same roof with them and might have seen or heard something?” She struck him as intelligent and observant. Was she covering up something?

“I guess they were happy, from what I could tell. They quarreled occasionally, but I suppose that’s normal. What does the state of their marriage have to do with Mike being missing?”

Kincaid finished the second doughnut, drank the rest of his coffee and stood. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I’ll know more after I talk with your sister. And Lenny’s commanding officer.”

Sara brightened immediately. “That means you’re taking the case?”

“That means I’ll let you know after I find out more. I’ll be in touch.” He walked out of the kitchen.

“Wait a minute!” Sara hurried after him. “I’m going with you.”

At the door, he swung about. “Sorry, but I work alone.”

She put on her most convincing expression, her most appealing smile. “Please, Kincaid, I need to do this. Mike…he means the world to me. I’ve arranged for time away from my business. I promise I won’t get in your way, and I might just be a big help.”

The day pigs fly, he thought, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. Silently he stared at her, eyes narrowed, hoping she’d back down. Many had, but she didn’t.

“All right, I’ll agree to this much. You can come along for now, but if I find you’re slowing me down or if it becomes dangerous, you’re off the case. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” She’d make sure she became invaluable to him. After all, she knew both Lenny and Mike, to say nothing of Meg. “I’ll change and be right with you.” With that, she hurried down the hall to the farthest room and closed the door behind her.

Curious, Kincaid strolled to the other open bedroom door next to Sara’s. Typical boy’s room—maple wagon-wheel bed, dresser and desk, a small television set on a shelf with a Playstation alongside it and a bookcase brimming with paperbacks, comics and all the Harry Potter books. On a stand under the window was an aquarium where two turtles dozed on rocks. Thanks to Aunt Sara, the kid had all the bells and whistles here, if not at home. Small wonder he liked to spend weekends with her.

Kincaid strolled back to the neat living room. He wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake in letting Sara come along. Of course, he’d probably discover in the first interview or two that there really was no missing boy, just some family problems. Still, the fact that Lenny had been suspended from the police department under a cloud of suspicion made Kincaid decide to look into the case before casually dismissing it.

And spending time with the boy’s lovely blond aunt wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.

Meg Nelson looked very little like her sister, Kincaid thought as she opened the front door of a two-story stucco house that badly needed painting, situated on a quiet residential street in Mesa. She was about the same height as Sara, but there the resemblance ended, since even the color of her blond hair was washed-out. She’d managed to pick up about fifty extra pounds, visible even in her loose-fitting dress.

Her pale-blue eyes skimmed over Kincaid, then settled on Sara. “You didn’t say you were bringing someone,” she said, her tone suspicious as she stood blocking the entrance.

“Kincaid’s a specialist in finding lost children,” Sara said.

Her annoyed gaze returned to Kincaid. “Are you a cop? Lenny’s going to be real upset if you called the cops on him, Sara. I mean, he’s an officer himself.”

It would seem that she didn’t know about Lenny’s suspension. Sara jumped in before Kincaid could answer. “We’ve got to find them, Meg, and we can’t do it alone. You do want to get Mike back, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped, then stepped back. Bristling, she walked over to a gold lounge chair and picked up her needlework.

Irritated with her sister, Sara led the way into the sunny living room. They sat down on the couch opposite Meg.

Kincaid knew he had to placate the frowning woman. “I appreciate your hesitation, Mrs. Nelson, but I assure you that with your cooperation, we have a better chance of finding your son and husband.”

Meg sighed, then seemed to relax fractionally. “What do you want to know?”

“I’d like you to tell me just how this situation developed.”

“Hasn’t Sara told you already?”

“I’d like to hear it from you. After all, you’re the wife and mother.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Meg began her story, which matched what Sara had told him. As Meg spoke, eyes on her needlework, Kincaid glanced around. The place was clean, but the hardwood floors needed sanding and polishing. The faded Persian rug could almost be labeled shabby, and the old-fashioned furniture had probably been there when her parents had been alive nearly twenty years ago. But there was a huge television set on the opposite wall, and through the archway a state-of-the-art pool table dominated the dining room. His hands itched to pick up a cue stick and try it out. It would seem the Nelsons had a fair number of grown-up toys, but the house and its furnishings seemed neglected. Interesting.

He took a moment to study the woman as she dribbled the facts to him slowly, almost dispassionately. Odd how she was far less emotional than Sara about Mike’s disappearance. She could have been reciting the plot of a book she’d read. Perhaps she didn’t feel her son was in danger.

When Meg finished, she didn’t look up, but drew in a deep, quivery breath and waited.

“Mrs. Nelson, do you feel your son is in imminent danger, even though he’s with his father?” Kincaid asked.

Again Meg glanced at Sara, obviously irritated at the question. “Lenny wouldn’t hurt Mike. That I know.” Her voice had a defensive tone as she went back to her sewing.

“Has Lenny done this before, taken Mike on unexpected trips?”

“Not exactly, but they’ve gone fishing without me.”

Sara watched and listened, wondering why her sister was being so difficult and almost evasive. However, since she’d moved out, she and Meg were no longer close. They never had been really, given nearly a decade’s age difference

Meg looked up, meeting Kincaid’s questioning gaze. “Lenny likes to do things on the spur of the moment. He says life is more fun if you don’t have every minute planned. I’ve always liked that about him. Some people get stuck in ruts, always working, never enjoying life.” She bent to her sewing, but not before sending Sara a sharp look.

Kincaid caught the accusatory glance Meg aimed at her sister. Was there animosity between the two, and what, if anything, did that have to do with the missing boy?

“I understand Lenny left a note. Could we see it?” Kincaid asked.

Meg huffed, but she got up and walked to a small desk in the corner, then came back with the note, which she handed to Sara, not Kincaid.

Sara unfolded the single sheet and held it so that Kincaid could read it, as well.

It was terse and to the point. “Meg—Mike and I decided to go on a little trip. Don’t know how long we’ll be gone. I’ll be in touch. Don’t worry about us. Lenny.”

The handwriting was sloppy and uneven, as if the writer had been in a hurry. “Why do you suppose Lenny didn’t tell you before they left?” Kincaid watched her closely.

Meg’s lips became a thin line, as if she was annoyed. Or was it embarrassed? “Mike had been pestering Lenny to go on a vacation like Disneyland or camping since school let out, even though we don’t have the money for that sort of thing. Maybe Lenny thought it was time for some father-son quality time.”

“I see,” he said, though he didn’t. From what Sara had indicated, Lenny didn’t strike him as father of the year. “So then, you don’t think there’s any reason to be worried about Mike being gone like this? I mean, you did call Sara, expressing concern, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I called her, but I had no idea she’d call in the cops. That wasn’t necessary, not at all.”

“Can we look through Mike’s room, see what he packed, maybe get an idea of where they went?” Kincaid asked.

“No. I’m not having a stranger prowling through my son’s things. Sara already did that.”

Seated on the couch, Kincaid looked at Sara beside him, at a loss over Meg’s cool acceptance of the situation and her almost belligerent attitude in contrast to her sister’s heartfelt plea. Raising his brows, he invited Sara’s response.

Taking her cue, Sara cleared her throat. Maybe she could get through to her sister. “Meg, how are you and Lenny getting along these days?”

Meg looked up, her expression suddenly hostile. “Fine. We have an occasional disagreement. Husbands and wives quarrel now and then, Sara. If you were able to keep a man interested in you long enough to have a real relationship, you’d know that. All you do is work, work, work. And spoil Mike so he sasses me.” She stood, abruptly clutching her needlework as she glared at her sister. “I asked you to help find my son, not to analyze my marriage. And I’m not happy that you brought a stranger, a detective, in on our troubles. I should think you’d remember that you owe me. You owe me plenty.”

Running out of steam, Meg turned and marched down the hallway surprisingly fast for a heavyset woman. In moments a door slammed shut.

Stunned, Sara sat back, heat moving into her face. Grasping for composure, she tried to make light of Meg’s outburst. “That went well, don’t you think?”

Kincaid stood, walked to the fireplace, giving Sara a moment to collect herself. What had caused her sister to react with such an outburst? Apparently, Meg felt that Sara still owed her for all those years she lived here. Finally he turned. “I guess I didn’t ask how you and your sister get along.”

She shook her head. “Fairly well, I thought, until now. I…she’s always had a sharp tongue, but she’s never been quite so mean-spirited.”

“Sounds like she’s envious of your relationship with her son.”

Sara rose, brushing back her hair. “I suppose she’s got a point. I do spoil Mike. He’s such a good kid, so smart. I reward him for good grades, for making the swim team. I take him to ball games, out to dinner, hiking and camping, bought him a ten-speed bike, things like that. I promised I’d take him to Disneyland this summer. Meg is too thrifty to do anything frivolous or fun, so I take up the slack. Still, I had no idea she felt such animosity toward me.”

“She also skirted the original question you asked her about how she and Lenny get along. Do you think they do a fair amount of fighting where Mike can overhear them?”

There was no use evading this any longer. “Probably. They certainly did when I lived here.”

Which was likely the real reason Sara had moved out. “Let’s try a scenario on for size,” Kincaid said, leading her outside. “Let’s assume that Meg and Lenny had a quarrel that Mike overheard. Perhaps the boy was upset, so Lenny decided to take him on that surprise trip, maybe while Meg left to run errands. Maybe Lenny wanted to worry her so she’d stop picking on him.” They reached his silver Explorer, and Kincaid turned to face her. “And maybe he intends to return after he thinks she’s learned her lesson.”

“Or maybe not,” Sara said, unconvinced. “Look, I don’t think Lenny wants to leave the Golden Goose. With the police department, he’s got a real job with potential, for a change, but obviously he hasn’t worked very hard to keep it or he wouldn’t have gotten suspended. He’s got it pretty good over here, so I’m not sure he’d risk getting Meg too angry.”

“Because she controls the money?”

Squinting in the glare, Sara slipped on her sunglasses. “Oh, yes. She’s told me she has him give her his entire paycheck, such as it is, then takes care of all the bills and gives him a monthly allowance, if you can believe it. If he runs out of money before the month ends, too bad. She used to give me an allowance when I lived with them, before I got a job and before I came into my own inheritance. I don’t know if she’s afraid the money will run out or whether it’s a means of control.”

“I vote for door number two.” Kincaid helped her into the Explorer before walking around and sliding behind the wheel.

“I just remembered,” Sara began, “Lenny came to me several weeks ago and wanted to borrow some money. Twenty thousand. I asked him why he wanted that much, and he said it was for some kind of investment opportunity, a sure thing. I’ve never trusted that sort of thing, so I turned him down and told him to ask Meg for the money. He said no, he couldn’t do that, and asked me not to mention his request to his wife.”

“Did you tell Meg?”

“No.”

“It seems as if we’ve discovered a motive for Lenny’s disappearance—to get away from a nagging, frugal wife. But why take the boy?”

“That’s what bothers me. I don’t buy this father-son quality time Meg mentioned. Lenny was hardly a hands-on father except when it suited him.” Leaning back, Sara closed her eyes. What a mess. She wished Lenny was here right now so she could punch him for using Mike to play games.

Rubbing her forehead, where a headache was beginning, she felt defeated. “I guess you’ll chalk this up as another domestic feud, eh?”

He probably should, Kincaid knew. But a couple of things worried him. First, the boy’s mother didn’t seem nearly as upset over her son’s disappearance as his aunt was. Instead Meg was vague and defensive, downright belligerent to the people who were trying to help her. Secondly, Sara Morgan didn’t strike him as someone who’d blow a situation out of proportion. She seemed genuinely worried.

Maybe it would turn out to be a wild-goose chase. Despite his reluctance, if there was the slightest chance that the smiling boy was in danger, Kincaid felt he should try. After all, he did have the time.

“Not just yet.” He started the motor. “I’d like to talk with Lenny’s superior officer at the Mesa Police Department first. Want to come along?”

Hope flared in her just that easily. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

For the life of him, Kincaid didn’t know what impulse made him ask her along. Could it be those big blue eyes imploring him?

Lieutenant James Anderson was a stocky, ruddy-faced man in shirtsleeves and paisley suspenders. He looked at Kincaid’s ID and quickly ushered them into his office, closing the door.

“I’ve heard of you, Detective Kincaid. You do good work.” Anderson sat down in his swivel chair. “I was sorry to hear about that case where—”

“Thank you,” Kincaid interrupted quickly. He had no intention of going into that.

“What can I do for you?”

He introduced Sara. “Her sister, Meg, is married to Lenny Nelson. I believe he works out of this precinct?”

The chair squeaked in protest as the big man leaned back. “Used to. He’s on suspension.”

“So I heard, for improprieties, I understand. Could you be more specific, sir?”

The lieutenant’s hooded eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”

Quickly Kincaid explained the major points. “Naturally, we respect the confidentiality of the people involved, but I need to know if Lenny Nelson could pose a danger to his son. As I mentioned, they’ve been gone for several days, and no one knows their whereabouts, not even the boy’s mother.”

Anderson frowned as he shifted forward and checked a folder. “Nelson’s supposed to appear next Monday for an internal affairs hearing.” He sat for a moment, thoughtful. “I assume this goes no further?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Nelson’s facing allegations that he stole property from the evidence room and sold it. All from old, unsolved cases, mostly forgotten, growing dusty in bins. Been going on awhile, from what we’ve determined so far.”

A man apparently in need of money for whatever purpose, unable to pry more loose from his tight-fisted wife, probably not earning a great deal, stealing and fencing, facing a likely indictment, Kincaid enumerated to himself. That kind of man could be desperate, volatile, unpredictable.

And he was off somewhere with an innocent twelve-year-old boy.

He glanced at Sara and saw she’d turned pale as she, too, had come to the same conclusion.

“And if Lenny doesn’t show up for his hearing?” Sara asked.

“We’ll get a judge to issue a bench warrant for his arrest,” Anderson said.

“Thank you, sir,” Kincaid said, rising and shaking hands. Hand on her elbow, he led Sara out of the office. Walking near the bull pen, he spotted a desk with Lenny’s name on it, although another uniformed officer was sitting there.

On a hunch he stopped. “Excuse me, but are you a friend of Lenny Nelson?” he asked.

The dark-haired officer stopped typing on the computer. “You could say that.”

Kincaid introduced himself and Sara. She saw the flicker of recognition on the man’s face, the sudden respect as he heard Kincaid’s name. Was there anyone in the state who hadn’t heard of this man?

“Cole Darwin,” the officer said. “If you’re looking for Lenny, he’s not here.”

“I know that. Would you have any idea where we could find him?”

Darwin shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Lenny gets around.”

“Look,” Kincaid persisted, “I know he’s in trouble. I want to help, to talk with him, but he’s not at home and I don’t know where else to look.” He paused, waiting. “I’d be mighty appreciative.”

Cole sat up straighter, glanced to the left, then the right before leaning closer to Kincaid. “Try his apartment, 125 Hanover, off Mill Avenue. You didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

“Right. Thanks.” Hand on Sara’s arm, he guided her outside into bright sunlight.

Despite the heat, Sara felt a shiver take her. “An apartment? Why would Lenny need an apartment?” she asked, truly puzzled.

“We’re about to find out,” Kincaid said, although he thought he had a pretty good idea. When a married man kept an apartment, usually there was only one reason.

The Manderly Inn was actually two three-story apartment complexes, motel-style with a somewhat neglected courtyard between. At Kincaid’s knock, the manager ambled out of the lower unit facing the parking lot.

Middle-aged and short, wearing a gray T-shirt and chewing on a toothpick, the man squinted up at Kincaid. “You want to rent a place?” he asked. “We’ve got one on the third ready now and another on the first floor by next week.”

“No, that’s not why we’re here.” Kincaid showed him his badge.

He studied the badge for several seconds. “I’m Charley, the super. What do you need?”

“Lenny Nelson rents a place here, I understand. Is he around?”

Charley shook his head. “Haven’t seen Lenny since a week or so ago.”

“We need to see his apartment. Police matter.”

Charley’s amiable expression changed, turning wary. He fingered a brass ring of keys hanging from the belt loop of his faded jeans, searching for the right one as he led the way to the outside stairs. “Third floor, in back.” Climbing, he sneaked a glance at Kincaid. “I don’t want no trouble. Lenny’s a cop, too. He makes sure we keep things up to code, you know. We used to have trouble, dopeheads and deadbeats. But not since Lenny came along. He’s a good tenant. I run a clean, law-abiding place, you know.”

Sure you do, Sara thought as she followed the two men up the wooden stairway with a rickety railing.

“How long has he been renting here?” Kincaid asked.

“Almost a year now.” They stopped in front of a heavy door marked with a crooked “3-D.”

Sara braced herself as Charley knocked twice, waited a minute, called out, then unlocked the door.

“He’s coming back, ain’t he?” he asked, stepping back nervously.

“Thanks,” Kincaid said, noticing that the man looked as if he wanted to go in with them. “We’ll lock up when we leave.”

Charley hesitated, then reluctantly started back down when he realized no more information was forthcoming.

Kincaid turned on a cheap lamp before looking around. Industrial gray-green carpet, walls that had once been painted white, a sagging couch and chair, closed gold drapes hanging crookedly over a wide window. The lingering smoke of a thousand cigarettes mingled with accumulated dust.

“I wonder how many people have lived in this place,” Sara said out loud as she walked through the empty L-shaped dining room into a small kitchen.

“Plenty,” Kincaid muttered as he turned down the hallway. The first room held only a desk and a filing cabinet. A quick search proved both were empty. Next was the bath. He opened the mirrored medicine chest and saw a razor, shaving cream, toothpaste and a tube that turned out to be bright-pink lipstick. Two toothbrushes were stuck into a chipped glass.

Wandering to the large bedroom, he saw Sara standing in front of the open closet, her expression grim. A filmy robe in shades of blue hung alongside two police uniforms. On the floor were a pair of polished cop shoes and pale blue mules.

He touched her arm. “Are you surprised?”

“I shouldn’t be, should I? Not after learning what kind of marriage Lenny and Meg have. I wonder if she suspects.” She closed the closet door with disgust.

A double bed with rumpled sheets sat between two shaded windows. Sara felt moisture run down her spine in the oppressive heat of the apartment. On top of the maple dresser that had seen better days was a hairbrush with blond hairs tangled in it alongside a comb with two dark hairs intertwined. She couldn’t resist opening the dresser drawers. More clothes, women’s underwear, men’s briefs, two blue uniform shirts still in their laundry wrappers. On the bare floor next to the bed was the robe’s matching nightie, lying there as if hastily removed.

Kincaid opened the drawer of the lone nightstand and found only a box of condoms. He walked back to the living room.

Some things you’re better off not knowing, Sara thought as she trailed after him.

Kincaid was rummaging through the drawer of the end table. He removed several maps and papers as Sara leaned over for a closer look. “What did you find?”

He held them out one by one. “A hiking map of Coconino National Forest with a trail highlighted in yellow. Another map of northeast Phoenix with a route highlighted to Roosevelt Lake, with ‘widemouth bass’ written in the margin. And a brochure of Disneyland with some markings on it. Recognize these?”

Sara looked at the brochure and sucked in a quick breath. “Those notations on the Disneyland brochure were made by Mike. I recognize his handwriting. Do you think he brought that boy here, to this…this place?”

“Nah, he probably brought the stuff here so he could look them over away from his wife’s prying eyes.” Kincaid suspected he was wrong, but he didn’t want to upset her further.

He opened the second drawer and pulled out a marked-up racing form, several lottery tickets with a penciled line drawn diagonally through each and a brochure from Ak-chin Casino. Spreading out the brochure, he noticed a picture of a hotel and “Room 223” written alongside a price of $99 per night.

Sara’s shoulders sagged. “He’s not only an unfaithful louse but a gambler, as well.”

Kincaid agreed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Back in the Explorer, Sara let out a troubled sigh. “I just know he took Mike up there where he…where some woman—”

Kincaid took her hand in his and squeezed. “Don’t think about it.” He handed her the maps. “Let’s go somewhere and study these. Maybe we can figure out where they went.”

Too upset to respond, Sara just nodded.

“There’s a little Mexican restaurant on Mill Avenue. Let’s grab something to eat. I’m starved.”

Glancing at her strained face, her hands folded tightly together, Kincaid knew she was picturing Mike in that crummy apartment with her brother-in-law and maybe some woman he was seeing. That couldn’t be easy.

He found he badly wanted to remove that sad, frightened look from Sara’s beautiful eyes. But locating a man on a trip with his son, a father who’d left a note telling the mother not to worry, wouldn’t be easy. And if he found them, what would be the charge? Lenny could be planning to return for next Monday’s internal affairs hearing and unless he didn’t, there’d be no warrant out for his arrest. Kincaid’s investigation could be considered harassment.

Yet, despite all that, he wanted to help Sara.

Shifting, he turned out of the parking lot, then suddenly braked as he realized he’d been snared, caught up in a situation he’d promised himself he’d avoid, at least for a while.

“What’s wrong?” Sara asked, turning toward him.

“Nothing,” Kincaid muttered, easing into traffic. “Nothing at all.”

Feeling numb, Sara let Kincaid direct her to a table at Manuel’s. It was two o’clock, so the lunch crowd had thinned, leaving only one older couple just finishing and two young men sipping beer and munching on nachos. The mustached waiter brought them chips and salsa along with two big glasses of water, then left them to study the plastic-coated menus.

“What would you like?” Kincaid asked, inhaling the delicious spicy aromas.

“I’m not hungry,” Sara answered as she dug in her purse for a couple of aspirin. Her headache had gotten worse.

Kincaid waited until she’d swallowed the pills, then placed a hand over both of hers. He didn’t speak until she looked up and met his eyes. “Sara, you have to eat. You didn’t even taste the doughnut this morning. If you don’t keep up your strength, you won’t be any help to Mike.”

That got her attention. She desperately wanted to go with Kincaid on his search for Mike, if in fact he’d decided to take the case. If the only way to do that was to eat, she’d eat. “Okay, you order for me.”

He did, two frosted beers and two lunch specials, which, when they arrived steaming hot, Sara thought could easily feed four people. Waiting for a forkful of chili relleno to cool, she watched Kincaid shovel in his food as if it were room temperature. “You must have an asbestos-lined mouth,” she commented.

“Told you I was starved.” He took a swallow of the chilled beer and saw that she was finally eating. Thinking aloud, he said, “There’s so much gambling in Arizona now—racetracks, the Indian casinos, the state lottery. Too much temptation for some, I guess.”

The small burrito was delicious, Sara decided, her appetite returning somewhat. “I suppose so, but I had no idea Lenny was so into it. I’ve never heard him or Meg mention going to the track or spending an evening at a casino. Meg’s too cautious to gamble. He must be doing it on his own. Or with the blond woman who left her hairbrush behind.”

So she’d noticed that, too. “You have the makings of a fine detective,” he told her as he scooped a spoonful of refried beans.

“Mmm, I’m a regular sleuth.”

“So what do we know so far?” Kincaid began.

Thoughtfully she toyed with her Spanish rice. “Well, we know my brother-in-law has a seedy apartment where he takes a blond woman. Or perhaps several women. I know that Meg hasn’t a clue that he’s unfaithful, or she’d have thrown him out by now. We know he’s suspected of stealing and selling stuff to get money, probably to gamble. I imagine he wants more money than Meg is willing to give him. I don’t know what that apartment costs, but I’m sure he isn’t taking the money from his paycheck.”

Finished with his lunch, Kincaid sat back, thoughtfully nursing his beer.

“He’s taking a big risk with that apartment,” Sara continued. “Why not just rent a motel room occasionally?”

Kincaid noticed that she was eating steadily, though he doubted she was aware she’d nearly cleaned her plate. “Perhaps his allowance doesn’t cover the cost of motels.” Something was nagging at him, and he wondered if Sara had noticed it, as well. “What did you think of that nervous little manager?”

Sara tasted her beer, not her favorite drink, but it was refreshingly cold. “I wondered why he asked so many questions. And what did he mean that the complex used to have druggies and the like before, but not since Lenny came on the scene?”

He smiled, pleased that she’d caught that, too. “Kind of makes me wonder if Lenny had an arrangement with the manager—a free apartment for his protection.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?”

“Last time I checked.” Kincaid drained his glass. “We could go back there, and I’m sure I could get the manager to open up, but if Lenny’s still around this area, I don’t want him to know we’re checking on him.”

Surprised she’d eaten so much, Sara laid down her fork at last and drank some water. “So what do you suggest we do next?”

Kincaid shuffled through the camping maps, the fishing area and Disneyland brochure. “We know he’s taken Mike fishing before, so do you think he did again?”

“Maybe. I’d also promised I’d take Mike to Disneyland before summer’s end, so I doubt they went there. Mike loves the outdoors, camping, hiking. I just can’t figure why Lenny would take him along if he was doing something shady.”

“Does Lenny have a cell phone?”

“Yes, but I’ve already tried that. He’s got it turned off.”

“That’s odd. Seems like he doesn’t want anyone bothering him.”

“That’s probably true. Meg does a lot of checking up on him and he hates it.” She gazed at the papers spread out on the table. “If I had to choose, I’d say Lenny’s taken Mike camping somewhere. Last fall, I took him up this fairly rugged trail on a mountain just north of Flagstaff. There’s an old cabin up near the top by a clearing, probably built by a prospector years ago. Copper mining used to be big back then, but all the mines have been abandoned since. Anyhow, Lenny got so angry when I told him I didn’t want him along that he’s been cool toward me ever since. Maybe he’s taken Mike up himself because he knows I wouldn’t like it.”

“Why wouldn’t you like Lenny and Mike going hiking together? After all, he’s the boy’s father.”

She shrugged, her hands twisting her napkin. “He’s an on-again off-again father. He wouldn’t take Mike camping because he wanted to, but rather to make a statement, either to Meg or to me. He’s a show-off and doesn’t know the first thing about caring for Mike around dangerous places where the boy might get hurt. He fell once when he was out with Lenny, only about twenty feet I was told, and he escaped with just scratches. But it happened because Lenny urged him to get close to the edge to take a photograph.”

“Forgive me, but since you weren’t along, how do you know that? Sometimes kids get daring on their own.” Mike was a boy, after all, Kincaid thought, and boys took chances, rarely mindful of danger. She sounded overly protective. Maybe Lenny took Mike because Sara had been interfering too much.

Slowly she ripped the napkin in half, then in fourths. “You’re right, I wasn’t there. But Mike told me later when I questioned him. And he’s very honest.”

Honest to a degree, but likely unwilling to admit to his very loving aunt that he’d gotten careless. He watched as she continued to shred the napkin, a nervous habit, he decided. To stop her agitation, he took the napkin remnants from her and placed both his hands over hers to still her, then waited for her to look up.

His hands were large and powerful, Sara thought, yet his touch was tender. She felt warmth spread from where their hands were joined, bringing an unwelcome awareness. Finally she met his eyes, noticing that they were more pewter than green in the restaurant lighting. She felt an overwhelming urge to brush back the lock of curly black hair that had fallen onto his forehead, but she managed to suppress it. She realized he was awfully good-looking, not movie-star handsome, but with solid features attractively put together, a face you could trust.

Or could she? She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, though it seemed longer. Her instincts told her he was honest, and his actions so far indicated that. Still, she knew him mostly by his reputation.

Dare she trust him?

Kincaid saw her lips quiver slightly and almost reached up to caress them. He hardly knew her, and though she’d told him a great deal in a short time, he had a feeling she was holding back something important. In his line of work he’d learned to read people, to determine character and personality quickly. Sara Morgan was hiding something, and only by getting closer to her would he discover what. Of course, he could…wait! He had to be losing his mind to even consider getting involved with her. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the hard way?

With no small effort, Kincaid withdrew his hands but held her gaze. “I have to say it again, Sara, that despite everything we’ve learned, there simply isn’t a case here.”

Her eyes filled with emotion so strong he had to look away. “Lenny’s a louse and it would seem he has some serious explaining to do to internal affairs. He’s also a cheating husband, but that’s between him and Meg. Maybe he went away with Mike because he knew that he was in trouble and might face jail time, so he had one last outing with the boy. I don’t know what his thinking was, but let’s just say we find them. Then what? He hasn’t done anything to his son that’s against the law, as far as we know.” He saw she was making an effort to control herself.

“I’m sorry, Sara. Really I am.”

She nodded, her eyes downcast as she reached for her purse and searched for her wallet.

“Please, allow me,” Kincaid said, tossing a twenty on the table.

Sara slid out of the booth, and they left the restaurant. The ride back to her home was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Sara wondered where she’d turn next, who might help her. Probably no one since Kincaid’s reasons for refusing were sound. Anyone else would reach the same conclusions. But they didn’t know Lenny the way she did, and they didn’t love Mike. They also didn’t have a gut feeling that something was wrong.

She’d go it alone. She simply had to.

As they neared her condo, Sara gathered up the maps and brochures, putting them in her purse.

Kincaid thought he knew exactly what she was planning. “Don’t do it, Sara. Not only are you looking for a needle in a haystack, but you could be walking into a dangerous situation.” He glanced over at her, saw the stubborn set of her jaw and noticed that she wouldn’t look at him nor answer him.

“Damn it, Sara, don’t do this. Wait awhile and most likely they’ll be back. Lenny wouldn’t compound his problems regarding his thefts by not showing up on Monday for his date with internal affairs. That would be crazy.”

Sara felt she’d better answer him or he’d try to stop her some way. “I know. You’re right.”

Kincaid swore under his breath, knowing she was unconvinced. He turned onto her street, wondering how he could make her see. He swung into her parking lot and drove around back to the stairwell leading up to her condo. As he parked, he noticed a woman in a muumuu with red poppies get up off the third step and come toward them.

“I wonder why your sister’s here,” he said, pulling to a stop. Maybe Lenny and Mike were back and Sara could rest easy.

“I have no idea,” Sara answered, climbing out as Meg came closer.

Meg shot an annoyed glance at Kincaid, then stopped in front of her sister. “Why are you still with him?”

Sara ignored the question. “What are you doing here, Meg?” Her sister rarely visited, and this was the first time she’d come over and waited outside for Sara’s return.

Meg held up an envelope and waved it in front of Sara. “I came because of this. I found it stuck in my mailbox, but it didn’t come through the mail.”

Sara felt rather than heard Kincaid move directly behind her. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s addressed to you, but I read it, anyway. It’s a ransom note demanding $230,000 for Mike’s release.”