Broke: (22 page)

She immediately regretted
that
move. The alley
dead-ended, only one block long, and
Vance's
was the only car in sight
. Was Vance still in his car? If so, he'd surely notice her. The only way out was to go to the end and turn around, or back out.

She would
park here
instead
. At first, Immy pulled to the left side of the alley, but then realized she
was next to a building and
couldn't open her door. After parking on the other side, she climbed out of her car, trying to shield her face with her hand. But
, as
she
approached, she saw
that Vance's car was empty.

H
is car stood beside the
rear
door of a business. Next to it was a wider bay door. Neither one had a business name on it.

Was Vance moonlighting at a second job?

Immy walked out of the alley and around to the fronts of the buildings. There was a florist, a tanning salon, an antique store, and many more
, jammed next to each other with no spaces between them
. But which one went with
which doors
in the back?

Returning to the alley, she counted the doors between Vance's car and the corner, then
went out front and counted
along
the block. Five doors down. That was it
.
QV Antiques.

As interested as Vance was in old things, maybe he was a regular customer in this shop and came in by the back
way
.

QV--Quality Value? Quick Venture? Quirky Vintage? Why on earth was it named something so unmeaningful?

Immy strolled past and glanced into the window. Sure enough, it was packed with old things. She turned at the end of the block and made her way back. This time she stopped and peered inside. Quentin, Vance's Toad Man, was behind the counter! This must be where he worked.

Before she could get away, Vance himself strode into the shop from a back
room
and spied Immy. He gave a wave and she
returned it
.
It would be rude not to.

QV. Quentin
.
Vance. This was their store.

Vance
motioned
her in.
The shop
smelled
exactly
like she thought it would. Old. And there was the dresser from her third floor, all polished up and standing there with a price tag on it. A high price tag, too.
Before she l
aid
into him, she reminded herself that it wasn't really her dresser, it was Geoff's. And Geoff had
sold
it to Vance and Quentin
for a tenth of the amount on that price tag
. So Geoff
was
the one being
ripped off
, not her.

"What do you think of the shop?" Vance gestured proudly, taking in the showroom with a sweep of his arm. "We have a workshop in the back where we refurbish the antiques. Would you like to see it?"

Not really. "I don't have time right now, Vance. Maybe some other time."

"Vance,
my darling
," said Quentin, "I don't think she's interested in antiques."

Vance
,
my darling
?

"Are you
,
Immy?" asked Vance
, putting an arm around Quentin's
narrow
shoulder
.

"I don't think so. I like new things."

"But," said Quentin, "you're living in a house full of them."

"I'll get some new stuff as soon as I can."

"You're right, Quentin." Vance gave the toad-man the fond smile she'd dreamed of receiving herself.

"I'll see you later." Immy stumbled from the store, dazed with her new-found knowledge. Vance was gay! But as she walked to the car, she realized this was a good thing. She wasn't losing her touch. Vance wasn't
at all
interested in women.
Any women.
That thought put a spring in her step. She still had it. It worked on Ralph anyway.

Her cell phone rang as soon as she started the car.

"Immy? It's Theo. I can't find my dad."

"He's in the motel with you, isn't he?"

"I went out for pizza and when I came back, he was gone. His wallet is in the room. Something's happened to him."
The catch in his voice betrayed his panic.

Immy sped toward the motel at the edge of
Wymee Falls. She drove past
the fake waterfall that had served as the town's namesake since the real falls, more of a rapids, had washed away in a storm many years ago.
She wasn't in the mood to chuckle at it right now.

It wasn't dark yet, but the neon sign
at the motel
was lit anyway, informing passersby that there were "Vacan ies".

She pulled
up
to room 113. Theo was waiting in the open doorway.

"I don't know what to do." He shifted from foot to foot and pulled at a curl behind his ear.
He sure looked like a great big Drew, Immy thought
,
once
again.

"Are there any clues?" She peered past him into the dimly lit room.

"He didn't leave a note, if that's what you mean."
Theo plunked onto one of the twin beds
and twisted his hands together
.

"No, I mean clues. Like, hairs, fingerprints, DNA."

"Sure, he left those.
And his wallet.
What good will that do?"

Those were the things you looked for. She was surprised a smart guy like Theo didn't know that. "No,
his
wouldn't tell us anything.
I meant if
his kidnapper left clues?"

"I've never collected fingerprints or DNA. Or hair either, come to think of it."

"Don't touch anything. I'll call the cops." She got her cell out.

"Immy, I'm not sure he was kidnapped. What gave you that idea?"

She hadn't dialed yet. "He left his wallet behind, right? So he didn't go willingly." She looked around for signs of a struggle, but the lamps were upright and the
two twin
beds were made.

"You said yourself that he had some rough companions," said Theo. "What if one of them found him here, had something against him, and did something to him."

"Like, kidnapped him?" Her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean, like injured him?"

"Yes, like that.
Or....
"

She finished dialing 9
-
1
-
1.

Chapter Twenty-
four

A
Wymee Falls
policewoman
Immy
had never seen
before
answered the call. Immy was
a little upset
the cop
didn't think Dewey was important enough for lights and siren.
She
casually pulled into the motel parking lot and took her time climbing out of the cruiser.
The woman was intimidating, tall and broad-shouldered. She had a jaw any man would be proud of, and short, wavy blond hair any woman would want.

Immy stood in the doorway
of the room
with Theo. She was picturing Dewey bound and gagged in a dark room.
Unconscious? Squirming to free himself from the too-tight bonds?
Maybe threatened with knives
,
guns, burning cigarettes. She bounced on her heels waiting for the cop to saunter to Theo's door.

"We haven't disturbed anything," Immy said. "Will Crime Scene be here soon?"

"Let's go inside and get statements, shall we?" The policewoman had a low, cool voice.

Immy felt hers getting high and screech
y
. "We don't have time to waste! We have to find him!"

The
officer closed
eyes
her
for a second. When she opened them, she
glared at Immy with them. They were gunmetal gray and made Immy shiver. This would be just the person to chase down the perps who had kidnapped her uncle.
"I need to get some information
," the cop said
.
"
I have no idea what's going on here.
Let's go inside.
"

Immy
glanced
back into the room over her shoulder. "We might mess up the evidence. Disturb the DNA."

"Have you and this man been in
side
right now
?"
She gestured to Theo with a jerk of her head.

"Well, yes, but--"

"One more
time
won't hurt." She
jerked her head
again
and herded
Theo and Immy into the room.

She motioned for them to sit side by side on the bed. That's where Theo had sat soon after Immy arrived, so she supposed it was okay. The
police
woman, who said her name was Callahan, perched on the edge of the dresser and pulled out a notebook. She got their name
s
and addresses
, t
hen said, "What happened?"

"I got a call from Theo
--
" started Immy.

"He was gone when I
--
" started Theo at the same time.

"You first." Callahan pointed her pen at Theo.

Theo told her he'd left for pizza and found Dewey missing when he returned.

"When was that?"

"Just now.
" He pointed to the pizza box
beside her
on the dresser. "
I got back not more than
ten,
twenty minutes ago. I was gone for half an hour tops."

"So it's been forty-five minutes since you've seen him?"

"Maybe an hour."

Immy tried to figure out how far a speeding car with a bound and gagged body in the trunk could get in a
n
hour. Way out of town, for sure.
I
nto Oklahoma.
Maybe
Lawton,
or
maybe
Quanah
, Texas.

"And you called Imogene?"
Callahan asked.

Theo nodded.

"I came as fast as I could
," Immy said
.
"
I mean, I didn't speed or anything." Although she may have, at one point. "My uncle could be in a lot of trouble."

"The missing man is your uncle?"

"And Theo's father," Immy said.

She
got
Dewey's
name and age
and wrote them down
. "Address?"

Theo and Immy exchanged a look. Theo lifted his chin to indicate that he'd
take this one
.

"My dad just got out on bail today. He's staying here
, in this room
. Doesn't really have an address."

"Out on bail?" Callahan s
macked
her pen against her notepad.
"Tell me what's going on."

Immy took up the narrative and told Callahan how Dewey had been arrested for vagrancy, then released, then arrested for murder
.
"And a man came to my front door
last Sunday, asking
for him. He was an unsavory character. Probably should be a person of interest."

"Who is he?"

"His name was...Frank, no Lloyd, no Floyd. Floyd Wright, that's it. He wasn't a bit surprised Dewey was charged with murder."

Callahan wrote
down
the name. "You know where he's from?"

"Uh, no."

"You know where he is now?"

"No. I guess he won't be easy to find if he's kidnapped Dewey.
They'll be laying low.
"

The policewoman tilted her head at Immy. "Why do you think he
would have
kidnapped your uncle?"

"Well, somebody did!"

"Why do you think that?"

Maybe this woman wasn't too bright, Immy thought.
"He's gone! His wallet is here."

"I'll be in touch."
Callahan
slid her rear off the dresser and closed the notebook.

"When is CSI coming?
" Immy felt her voice getting screechy again. "
Are you bringing dogs?
"

"Honey, quit watching so much TV."

Immy drew herself up
half
an
inch taller, even though she still sat on the bed
. "I don't watch too much TV. I read too many books.
At least leave us your card so we can call if we remember something.
"

She thought Callahan stifled a smirk as she
slapped a card into Immy's hand and
left.

Immy turned to Theo. "
Did that woman roll her eyes at me?
What sh
ould
we do?
She's not going to go after them.
"

Theo ran a hand through his chestnut curls and puffed out his cheeks. "There's nothing we
can
do, Immy. I wonder if Aunt Nelda was right."

"About what?"

"About, well, taking up with my dad."

"We can hunt for him. Maybe they didn't take him far. He could even be in this motel! I'll bet the cops won't think of looking for him here."

"You can't go door to door."

"Why not?"

Theo threw up his hands. "Okay.
You
can go door to door.
I'm
not going to."

Immy stomped out of the
unit
and banged on the next
one
, Room 114.

A muffled voice
answered,
"Go away."

She pounded again, harder.

"Jesus Christ, hold your horses."

"I'm not Jesus
Christ
and I only have a pig," she shouted.

A nearly naked man
cracked
the door open. "What the hell?"
he yelled.
He wore a fluffy white motel towel around his middle.
Most
of
his visible hair was on his chest
since h
is rather pointed head was smooth as a rock.

"Who else is in there?"

The man looked behind Immy, then stuck his head out
the doorway
and looked up and down the row of closed doors. Theo stood outside Room 113 with his arms
folded and a slight smile playing on his lips. The man gave Theo a hostile look, but addressed Immy.
"Did my wife hire you?"

Immy was puzzling over this question when the man went on. "Are you a PI?"

A PI? He thought she was a PI? She half-closed her eyes in what she hoped was an enigmatic expression. "Maybe."

"You don't have no camera."

Immy continued with the enigmatic look
and gave him the silent treatment
.

"Tell her...
. O
kay, here's the deal. How much is she paying you?"

Immy was trying to put the puzzle together, but still hadn't made all the pieces fit. It didn't seem that Dewey was being held hostage by a nearly naked man who was worried about his wife and a PI.

Then she had it. It was like one of Mike Mallett's many cases.
Th
e
guy
was shacking up with someone here and thought his wife had hired a PI to get pictures for the divorce settlement.

"I'll double it if you don't tell
her
you found me. I swear this is the only time I ever been here with Tootsie. I ain't never doin' it again. How much?"

"How much do you have?" It didn't seem practical to make him go to an ATM in his condition.
And she certainly didn't want to take a check from this character. She wasn't stupid.

He groaned and disappeared inside the room, leaving the
door
open an inch.
Immy couldn't see anything inside except the dresser.
In half a minute he returned and crammed a wad of bills into her hand. Immy didn't count them, but saw that they were hundred dollar bills.

She hoped her gulp wasn't audible.
She smoothed the
bills
out. There were several.
"This will do."

The man slammed the door.

She ran into Room 113. Theo followed her
in
and they both collapsed in laughter.
When they recovered, they split the money and each ended up with three hundred dollars.

"I wonder if a person could make a living doing this," Immy said.

"No, don't do that again. Really. Someone could get angry and you could get shot."

The motel had thoughtfully supplied a three-sheet pad of paper and a limited-use pen beside the phone.
Immy copied Callahan's number onto the pad for Theo, in case he remembered pertinent info.

Immy
took her purse, with Callahan's card, and
said good-bye to Theo, but still thought she ought to case the
rest of the
motel. She walked past all the
room
s on the street side, listening for signs of a struggle inside the rooms, then went around to the rear-facing rooms.

Two men in black hoodies were carrying a heavy box from a room to a white panel van that had a driver inside and the engine running. When they caught sight of Immy, the
y
startled and
one of them
almost dropped
his end of
the box.
The box wasn't big enough to hold an adult body, but the behavior seemed suspicious to Immy.
She whipped out her notebook to jot down the license number.

The
two men
flung the box through the open bay doors at the back of the van and jumped into the vehicle. It took off as they were still pulling the doors shut.

She
started to wave
as they sped
toward her, then realized they were going to run
her
over. Immy jumped aside, but the front
corner
of the van bumped her.

When she raised her head
from the pavement
, the van had vanished. Maybe she'd been knocked out.
She felt her head and winced when she touched a sore spot in the back.

When she started to get up, her head felt heavy. Did she have a concussion? She got to her feet and picked up her purse that the van, fortunately, had not run over.

The door to the room
, number 151,
stood op
en, so Immy crept up to it and peeked
inside. Two more boxes remained.
One box had "AK47" stenciled on the side.