Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 07 - Vague Images (6 page)

I could almost see his brain working
. “Lucas, you aren’t going to find her by walking around town for another week.”

“What about the hospital hoodie thing?”

“They probably wouldn’t have a clue it was you, but you have to tell them what you saw. Then they can stop trying to figure out who was on those security tapes and spend more time on other clues.”

“Jolie, I can’t…”

“What are you so afraid of?  If someone saw something that would help you find Kim, you’d want them to come forward.”  I sat my purse on the kitchen counter and leaned against it as I stuffed my camera and notepad into it my bag. When I glanced at Lucas he had tears in his eyes.

“It might get her hurt.”  He said this in almost a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

From a pocket
, Lucas took a paper towel he had brought from my kitchen and blew his nose. “I think maybe the people my father ticked off figured out who we were. Because of my mom’s funeral. So someone might
really
be looking for us.”

I stared at him for a couple of seconds. “Sit next to me by the hearth. I’m tired of standing.”

We sat. “My dad put an obituary in the paper in Atlanta. The kind you pay for, so he put in a picture. He said maybe my mom’s sisters would see it and they’d know what happened to us.”

“Couldn’t he send them a note? Like from another town?”

Lucas gave a brief smile. “You watch cop shows on TV. The Marshal Service guys told us a hundred times not to do something like that. They said any kind of what they called direct communication could be dangerous for us, and for my aunts.”

“So he did an obituary.”

“Yeah. Well, my mom was really good looking.”  When I nodded, he continued. “I guess these guys my dad did…stuff for read a lot of obituaries. I think they recognized her.”

“Wow
. Why do you think that?”

“Because the day after the funeral, a man came to the door
. I answered. He had flowers, and said one of his kids went to school with Kim. He said he couldn’t make the funeral, so he wanted to drop off flowers. I said my dad was out, but I’d have him call. The man just grinned and said that would be good.”

“But he didn’t have kids in school with Kim?”

“I don’t think so. My dad was sitting down when he read the card or I think he would have sat on the floor. All it said was ‘thinking of you.’  It was signed by someone named Benny.”

“Did your dad say who it was?”

Lucas shook his head. “No, but I could tell he knew, and he asked a lot of questions about what the guy had said, especially the part about Kim. I think that’s why she left.”

“I don’t get it.”

Lucas gave his trademark shrug. “She would probably have left anyway. Mom’s suicide really shook her up. All of us. But Kim was with her all the time. I could tell she thought she should have seen it coming. So she could have prevented it.”

“If someone is determined to kill themselves, they’ll do it.”

He nodded. “Probably. Mom had been on meds. I guess Kim knew she stopped taking them. Mom told Kim she was cured.”  He put the word in air quotes. “She said she didn’t need pills. If Mom had told Dad, he would have made her start again. Kim didn’t know there’s no cure for bipolar disorder. That’s what Mom had. So, Kim didn’t tell Dad that Mom stopped the pills. Mom said it would be a surprise for him.”

I winced. “There’s a need for a boatload of therapy.”

“Mom had a lot.”

“I meant for Kim. So she knows it’s not her fault.”

Another shrug.

“So, this is all horrible, but how does it translate into not getting help from the police?”

He thought for a moment. “Whoever is mad at Dad now knows her name. We were listed as survivors. If they’re paying attention, they can see Kim’s gone. Maybe the people Dad ticked off are looking for her. Now she’s not where anyone can protect her.”

“But why would they care? You really think they’d hurt someone who was five or six when your Dad did whatever he did?”

“Leverage,” he said, in a flat tone. “I’ve always figured they want Dad to tell them something.”

“You said he laundered books at his car dealership
. He helped the FBI put someone in jail?”

“I suppose
. My guess is that he either took some money or somebody helped him do it, and they want to know if he had a partner.”

I groaned
. Near the end of our marriage, my husband embezzled money from the bank he worked for. He spent it at New Jersey casinos. “I can’t believe this,” I said, more to myself than Lucas.

“Maybe he didn’t, but I’m pretty…”

“I didn’t mean that. My former husband went to jail for embezzling money from the place he worked. I never thought I’d know someone else who did something like that.”

Lucas’ tone was bitter
. “It’s easier than you’d think. If you take a lot at once, somebody notices. But if you set up a command to transfer a little at a time you might not get found out for years.”

“How do you know that?”  My tone was kind of sharp
. I hoped he hadn’t inherited any of his father’s bad habits.

“Did I tell you I have a double degree in math and computer system design?

“We hadn’t gotten to that tidbit yet.”

He laughed for several seconds
. “That felt good.” 

“I remember you wanted a computer video game the year you lived here.”

“Yeah. That
Game Boy
was the first electronic gadget I took apart to see how it worked.”

Only a boy.

He grew somber again. “I don’t do it, of course, but I could hack into almost any system. Even ones with all kinds of security.”

“And do you?”
What have I gotten myself into?

“Only for fun, and nothing like stealing money
. I made a Burger King ad show a Big Mac once.”

“How could you even do that?”

Shrug. “It’s just a digital feed from their advertising firm. It only showed a couple of times, and then the ad was down.”

“So you hack into a lot of systems?”

“Of course not. I just meant that if someone could get into a company’s computer and they knew a lot about accounting systems and stuff…”

His voice trailed off, partially in response to my look, which was intense
. “I already knew you were smart. But you’re being really dumb about not getting help looking for Kim. We’re going to the police station right now.”  I think my babysitter voice persuaded him.

WE HAD COMPROMISED. I phoned Lieutenant Tortino’s mobile phone and said I had someone he would want to meet, but there was no way I could get the person to go to the station. Tortino suggested the food pantry, and we settled on the diner. A few of our food pantry customers have been arrested for vagrancy or shoplifting. They would not be happy to see a police officer in the place where they get food.

Lucas wolfed down a cheeseburger while we waited
. I had my favorite item on Arnie’s Diner’s menu, a chocolate milkshake. The diner draws the tourist crowd, but it’s especially popular with locals in the off-season. It’s not just Arnie’s reasonably priced blue-plate specials. It’s the dozens of framed pictures that hang on the walls. They have local people or autographs from celebrities who have eaten at the diner. Most are from long ago. One even has Aunt Madge’s long-dead first husband, Uncle Gordon, who died when I was five.

There’s a newer bulletin board for Hurricane Sandy photos
. Arnie told me he’ll take most of those pictures down at some point, but for now it’s important for people to see them.

The door opened, letting in a cool breeze and Lieutenant Tortino
. Arnie asked if he wanted his usual, and Tortino gave him a sort of salute and walked to our booth. The lieutenant marched me off the boardwalk once during my junior year, for smoking a cigarette. Took me straight to Aunt Madge. He was on foot patrol–and trim. Now that he’s in is mid-fifties, he has a slight paunch and his hair has a lot of grey. I’ve met him many times since I moved back to Ocean Alley two years ago, but Sergeant Morehouse usually handles investigations, so I deal with him.

Tortino sat without saying anything. I had told Lucas that Tortino had heard my suspicion that I’d seen Thomas Edward, so Lucas stretched his hand across the table
. “I’m Lucas Householder. I lived in Ocean Alley for a year when I was ten.”

Lucas took twenty minutes to quietly tell his story. Even then, he didn’t mention why he thought his family was in witness protection
. He only said his mother had committed suicide and he was really worried about his sister. It would have taken less time but a couple of people stopped at the table to say hello to the lieutenant. I probably should have picked a different place, but Tortino created a good reason for being there. He said the police union was going to help do a fundraiser for Harvest for All. And then he’d look at his watch and the person would walk away.

Tortino was thoughtful as he put sugar into his second cup of coffee
. “It’s no problem to ask the officers to look for her. We don’t have to put up signs with her name. I can ask them to call me when they see her rather than approach her. We’ll say she has emotional issues or something.”

“Not far off, probably,” Lucas said
. “And then you’ll call me?”

“Yes. It would be better if they approached her and asked her to come with them. She could be long gone before you get to where they saw her. But if you think she’d panic…”

“She would,” Lucas leaned forward. “I know she’d try to leave, and if they made her come it would just attract attention.”

“She’s not a criminal. We can’t make her do anything unless we think she’s a danger to herself or someone else. You have a photo, right?”

Lucas took one from his wallet and Tortino promised to return it.

“There’s something else,” I said, quietly.

Lucas’ expression conveyed a great deal of stubbornness. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is.”

With reluctance, he looked back at Tortino. “I might be the person in the hoodie who was at the hospital when the lady was killed.”

TO SAY THAT one sentence changed the tenor of the conversation would be an understatement of some magnitude. It also changed the location.

I was on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the small waiting room of the police station, my foot propped on one of the other chairs. Lucas was in the locked area where officers sit
. The only time the waiting area is remotely cheerful is around Christmas season, when local elementary children provide drawings of snow people, decorated trees, Menorahs, and Santa Claus.

My mobile phone chirped and I looked at the caller ID and sighed
. “Hello, George.”  My mind cursed all of his informants around town.

“What are you doing at the police station?”

“Waiting for one of the teen volunteers from Harvest for All. He said he needed to talk to the police about something but didn’t want to go alone.” Let him believe my lie.

“Scoobie’s the one who works with them. How come he didn’t ask him?”

“Scoobie’s at school or the hospital most of the time.”  So far the only true thing I’d said had to do with Scoobie’s whereabouts.

“What’s up with the kid?” George asked.

“Don’t know. Family stuff, probably.”  The door to the inner office opened and Lucas walked out with Sergeant Morehouse. “Gotta go, George.”

“Whaddya talkin’ to him about?” Morehouse asked
. He let Lucas follow him to where I sat.

“He called me
. Someone in here spies for him.”

“Humph.”  Morehouse looked at the young officer at the front counter, who raised her arms in mock surrender
. He turned back to me. “Your young friend going to keep in touch with you?”

I looked at Lucas
. “For now. Right, Lucas?”

He nodded without saying anything.

Morehouse nodded. “Good. We might need more help on the hospital thing.”  He turned and walked back into the secure area.

“You okay?” I asked Lucas.

“Yeah. We can go, right?”

The temperature had dropped at least five degrees while we were in the station, and the sky was getting cloudy
. Lucas opened the car door for me and took the crutches to place in the back seat. “Guess it’s good I won’t be sleeping outside tonight.”

I started the car
. “You want to talk about it?”

He shrugged
. “Not a lot to say. They showed me a couple of the security photos and I said it was definitely me. They have cameras at some of the places where hallways cross, but not covering every inch of the halls.”

“So not one of you near the restroom?”

“No, but I was walking toward it in one of the photos. Or so they say. I can’t tell one hallway from another.”

“Were you able to help them?”