All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas (33 page)

“He's not picking up,” Sam already had his own phone to his ear. “Let's get more people looking for him, try to find out who saw him last. But discreetly,” he ordered Cosmo, who nodded and headed down the hall to the church.

Jules, meanwhile, was bumped to Robin's voicemail. “Robin, where are you? Call me.”

He looked at Sam, who was looking back at him.

“Don't think that,” Jules chastised him.

“I'm not thinking anything,” Sam protested.

“We talked,” Jules said. “Robin and me. About…everything.” Adam's presence, although unpleasant, had finally sparked the conversation Jules and Robin had needed to have. And Jules had slept better last night than he had in weeks.

“Adam made it onto the flight to L.A.,” Sam reported. “I checked.”

“I'm not going to respond to that,” Jules said tightly, “because the implication—”

“I'm just saying,” Sam told him.

“Well, you didn't need to.”

“So Robin's AWOL, and I should just stand here and not tell you what I
do
know?” Sam countered.

Jules took a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said. “You're right. Will you please…just find Alyssa and help me find Robin?” He speed-dialed Robin's number again.

Robin's cell phone rang.

And then it rang again.

And again.

Sam's ring—the theme from
SpongeBob Square Pants.
Cosmo's ring—the theme from
Gilligan's Island.
Jules's ring—the theme from
Buffy.

Robin went through the cabinets in his perfect, newly renovated master bathroom, searching for a screwdriver, as his cell phone rang from the depths of his bag, which was in the other room, on the bed.

Buffy
again. More
Buffy.

He'd gotten back to the house in mere minutes—only to find Jules and Cosmo's moms über-decorating the place with wreaths and garlands and fields of gorgeous poinsettias. Rich, deep red Christmas bows hung down from the staircase and were tied to the balusters.

It was so beautiful—and so obviously meant to be a surprise. They were just finishing up in the kitchen, so Robin dashed up the front stairs to the bedroom, hoping he could grab what he'd forgotten—his wedding present for Jules—without letting them know he'd ever been here.

But when he pushed open the bedroom door, he discovered that they'd been in there, too. Their bedding had been replaced with a gorgeous, snow white comforter and sheets that must've had a thread-count of four million.

There were bloodred roses everywhere, and candles everywhere else. They'd even put out one of those boxes of extra long matches to make it easier to light them.

There was mistletoe—as if they'd need it—hanging from the end of the ceiling fan pull.

It was so beautiful, and so sweetly romantic, Robin couldn't help it. He started to cry. All that care and effort spoke volumes about Jules's mother's love and acceptance of her son—not to mention Cosmo's mom's generosity. He was struck by Lois Richter's willingness to help out in this way, enthusiastically taking on the role of the loving parent Robin had never had.

His tears were his downfall. He grabbed the CD case that he'd hidden in his bedside table, sticking it into his bag.

And then he'd gone into the bathroom, to carefully splash cool water onto his face and search for his Visine, so that he didn't show up at the church with red eyes.

He'd closed the door behind him so that the two moms wouldn't hear him. He took a leak while he was in there, waiting for the Visine to kick in.

He'd washed his hands, checked himself in the mirror, went to the door, grabbed and pulled…and the knob came off in his hand.

Thunk.

The doorknob on the other side fell onto the bedroom floor, taking the mechanism with it.

No. Oh, no. No, no.

But yes. Robin was, without a doubt, locked in his bathroom.

He'd shouted, but it was too late. He heard the alarm system go on, and he rushed to the bathroom window and opened it, but—crap—since it was on the second floor, it wasn't wired into the system.

Robin could see the driveway, see the limo idling there.

But Pete, the driver, had backed in. He was facing the street, and wouldn't be able to see Robin, even in his rearview mirror. But then…

“Hey!” Robin shouted as the two women hurried to the waiting car. “Lois! Linda!”

But they didn't hear him. He kept shouting, but they didn't look up. They just got in and closed the doors.

Okay. Come on, Pete. Ask the question.
Where's Robin?

Sure enough, the limo didn't move.

Come
on,
Pete. Come on, come on…

But as Robin watched in dismay, the limo pulled out of the driveway. And he knew exactly how that conversation had gone down.

Pete:
Where's Robin?

The moms:
Oh, he went to the church in a different limo.

Pete:
He did? Are you sure?

The moms:
Very. We need to get to the church right away—we're running a little late.

Pete (pulling away):
Okay…

Robin (watching from the window):
I'm so totally fucked.

It was obvious to Dolphina that Jules was starting to get really worried.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked him, and he forced a smile.

“If you could bring me Robin, that would be really nice,” he told her.

She smiled, too, trying to be reassuring. “I'm sure he's just…found someplace quiet to take a deep breath.”

Jules had been on the phone for quite some time, talking to the detectives in charge of the Jim Jessop investigation. All evidence they'd found supported the theory that Jessop was not part of some kind of conspiracy. He was merely a very lonely, mentally-unhinged man, whose mother had recently died and who had gone off his medication. He didn't have a girlfriend or an equally unbalanced brother. He didn't have any friends, and he'd apparently kept entirely to himself at work.

Still, it was clear that Robin's vanishing act was freaking Jules out. He was also kicking himself for not maintaining a higher level of security, for not waiting for Robin to go with him into the church. Dolphina knew that Jules was a heartbeat from calling for massive search and rescue teams, to canvas the area.

Sam and Cosmo, however, were doing a little canvassing of their own. They'd quietly sent the men of SEAL Team Sixteen, looking resplendent in their Navy uniforms, to check all the bars in a several block radius.

It was the SEAL named Izzy Zanella who blew the covert status of that little op. He was coordinating the search with a Popout map of Boston and his cell phone, and he stuck his head in the room where Jules was impatiently waiting. Cosmo and Sam had just come in to try to figure out where to look next.

“He's not at the Ritz,” Izzy reported to Sam, and Jules, of course, overheard him.

“Why would Robin be at the Ritz?” Jules asked, and Sam didn't answer immediately. He was clearly trying to find the right words.

“At the
bar
at the Ritz.” Jules put it together without Sam's help and he was furious. “Fuck you!” He looked at Cosmo. “And you, too. Don't you have
any
faith in him?”

The two men exchanged a look, and Dolphina knew what they were thinking, because she was thinking it, too. There was faith, but there was also common sense. She could still remember the prerehab Robin, and she knew Jules could remember, too. It was hard not to with that YouTube clip playing on the news every time anyone turned around.

“If you were running this search, you would've given the order to check the bars, too,” Sam told him quietly.

But Jules shook his head. “No,” he said, absolutely. “No.” It was clear to Dolphina that he had enough faith in Robin for all of them.

But dear God, what a risk he was taking by being in this relationship. The enormity of it all caught Dolphina off-guard, and she had to sit down. Everyone
—every
one—who was helping to look for Robin harbored a fear that the movie star may have stumbled under the intense pressure of the day. It was natural to think,
Oh, Robin's slipped. He must be drinking again.

But somehow Jules had gotten past that. He
did
have faith in Robin. He trusted him completely. Which meant that if Robin
did
fall, Jules would be crushed. But despite that risk, Jules loved him with all of his heart.

And Robin—he loved Jules, too. Despite knowing the dangers of Jules's job. Despite the reality that he could lose Jules, at any day, at any given hour.

And here Dolphina sat, too frightened to even
consider
taking a chance with a man whom she believed really did love her. A man who had admitted that he'd made mistakes, who took responsibility for his wrongdoing, who'd apologized—sincerely. A man who was brave enough to take another chance after being badly hurt.

A man who wanted to learn to be a team player again…

No doubt about it, she was a wimp.

“I've been trying to replay the conversation we had in the limo,” Jules was telling Sam. “There was something that he…said or did, and I just can't remember.”

“Try running it backward,” Cosmo suggested. “You went into the church. You walked to the church—”

“I kind of ran,” Jules said. “Up the stairs.”

“You got out of the limo,” Cosmo prompted.

Jules nodded. “He kissed me, I told him I loved him, he said he'd be right behind me…I got a phone call about the President, I had to take the call and he wasn't all that happy about the fact I had my cell phone, but he was joking about it. He told me I could put it in his bag, and then…” Jules laughed. “He said
crap.
”

Jules went out of the room, as if what he'd just said—Robin said
crap—
actually meant something important. Cosmo and Sam were right behind him, clearly bemused, as Dolphina followed, too.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Home,” he told her. “Robin went home to get something that he forgot.”

“What?”

“Tell the violin trio to keep playing,” Jules ordered. “Tell them to stall.” He took the quickest route to the front of the building, where the limos were waiting—right down the center aisle of the crowded church. He was creating a stir, but he clearly didn't give a damn. “I'll be right back!”

“I'm going with him,” Sam said to Cosmo and Dolphina, then took off after him.

After living for months with a full tool kit—including a drill and a sander—in the master bathroom, how could there not have been at least a
small
screwdriver left behind?

But apparently, it had happened. Robin was locked in his bathroom without the tools he needed to set himself free.

The linen closet held what looked like a year's supply of toilet paper. Dolphina had recently discovered Costco, and no longer bought anything in quantities of less than four dozen.