Enemies Closer (3 page)

Chapter Three

A
few minutes later she was seated at a two-top near the kitchen and the restaurant was filling quickly with happy, boisterous diners. Promising to bring her something delicious, Cole had gone off to put in an order for her dinner. Clara wasn’t sure her appetite would hold up, but she was willing to try because the restaurant smelled amazing. Already halfway through the glass of pinot, her heart no longer felt like it was beating through her rib cage, but Cole’s question had almost knocked her over and now the aroma of good food and the mellow jazz in the background made her feel like Maddy really
could
be joining her. Just for a second, everything felt normal.

She looked around and took another sip of her wine. Maddy
should
be joining her. She should be walking through the door, apologizing for being late and studying the wine list like a pro.

“Clara Gardner?” She looked up to find an incredibly well-put-together woman holding out her hand. “I’m Gemma Stein, one of the owners here. I know your sister.”

Cole must have relayed the information that Maddy was missing and may have come here for dinner on Monday night because the woman took a seat without asking and went on, “I was here on Monday taking care of some paperwork and I chatted with Maddy for a few minutes on my way out. I can’t believe she’s missing.”

Gemma was enfolded in layers of white and grey cashmere – a sweater, a dress, and a scarf, each looking so soft that Clara wanted to curl up against them like a puppy dog and sleep until this nightmare was over. Her lips and nails were a matching chocolaty plum color and her chestnut hair was pulled back into a loose knot. Her skin was fair, her jewelry minimal. Just a five-pound circle of diamond and gold on her pale ring finger.

“You saw her on Monday?”

“Yes. Around eight or eight-thirty? I was on my way out of the office and I passed the ladies room. She’d just gotten off her phone, at least that’s what it looked like, and I stopped to say hi.”

“How do you know Maddy?”

Gemma shrugged as if it were obvious. “We know just about everybody in the restaurant business in downtown Seattle.” At Clara’s blank expression, she added, “My husband and I are partners in the Steinboch restaurant group. We own and manage several restaurants, a bakery, and a wine supply company. In fact, we supply the wine served at Dovetail, and Maddy eats here once or twice a month too, so she’s friendly with our staff.”

Maddy had occasionally talked about the pros and cons of these restaurant groups, though Clara didn’t remember anything about Steinboch in particular. “So far this is the last-known place my sister was seen before she disappeared. Did she seem upset or agitated to you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I said hi, she said hi, that dinner was great. I asked how things were going at Dovetail. She said good, great, busy. She might’ve asked about my husband, Mark. That was it. We walked out to the dining room together and I left.”

“Did you see who she was with?”

“No. I didn’t go to her table and I wasn’t really paying attention. I checked Monday’s schedule just now when Cole told me what happened. Only one of the waitstaff who worked that night is here now, but I don’t know if she waited on Madeline. The same hostess is here and I’ll ask her to speak to you. Harry Reynolds, our general manager, was here Monday, but not tonight. He’ll be in all day tomorrow if you want to come by again.”

“Sure,” said Clara, “I’ll do that.”

Gemma handed her a business card. “These are my numbers. I’m off to a dinner engagement now, but call if you have any more questions.”

“Thank you for your help, Gemma. Before you go, the waitress who
is
here tonight?”

“Cole will round her up for you when things slow down a little.” She gestured with satisfaction at the busy restaurant.

After she left, Clara finished her wine and thought a moment. Maddy was definitely here on Monday night, and hopefully someone remembered whom she was with. She was pleased to have at least closed the time gap a little. Her sister had been present and accounted for around eight o’clock Monday night. By late Tuesday afternoon she had disappeared.

Just then, Cole delivered a steaming plate. “Braised beef in a port wine reduction, potatoes au gratin, roasted Brussels sprouts.” In his other hand he held an open bottle of the pinot noir she’d been drinking and refilled her glass. “I have to run around and manage a few things, so enjoy your dinner, and I will be back.” He pointed at a waitress. “That’s Kris. She worked Monday night and she’ll stop by when she gets a minute.”

As soon as he was gone she took a little bite of the beef, and by the time Kris the waitress approached her table she had gobbled up most of her dinner. “Have a seat if you have time,” she said after they introduced themselves.

“I have like two or three minutes,” she replied tersely, surveying her tables and sitting across the two-top from Clara. She appeared very clean cut and athletic, but apart from looking exceptionally healthy, very plain. She looked noncommittally at Clara and said, “So what’s up? Cole said you were looking for your sister.”

“I am. Have you seen her?”

“Yeah.”

This felt like pulling teeth. Clara decided to impress some seriousness upon her. “She’s been missing since Tuesday, at least, and I flew out from Boston to help the police find her.”
Not strictly true
, she thought, but mentioning the cops had the desired effect.

“Like, she was kidnapped? Oh my god.” Her eyes went wide. “I waited on her on Monday. I mean, I don’t know her but Harry, took their wine order and sat down with them to talk a few times when things were slow. Harry’s our GM,” she added. “He said to take good care of them because she – your sister, I mean – was a friend.”

At the mention of a “them” Clara’s heart started beating a little faster. “Do you know who she was with?”

“Some guy.” Kris was already losing interest. “Maybe Harry knew him, but he didn’t say.” Clara waited her out. “He was cute. They looked like they were having a good time until she left.”

“
She
left? Didn’t they go together?”

“No, she left suddenly. They both ordered dessert, but she was gone when I came back with them. Her ice cream just melted on the plate.” She glanced around. “Look, I have to get back.”

“One more thing,” Clara said, putting some authority into her voice. “Did he pay the bill with a credit card?”

“Most likely.”

“Do you remember where they were sitting?”

Kris looked like she was going to protest a second question but thought better of it. “Right here.”

“Thanks,” Clara replied to the waitress’s back, already deciding to sic Judy Carlisle on her when she called the detective later that night.

Cole walked over to take her plate. “Did she tell you anything useful?”

“I think so. Maddy was here with a man but she left before they finished their meal. Kris said they sat at this table and he paid with a credit card, so you could probably find his name from the table number.” She raised her eyebrows. Kris hadn’t actually said the man paid with a card, but she would bet he had.

“Oh,” said Cole, taking the hint and looking a little uncomfortable. “We could probably find his name from the receipt, but I don’t know if I should.” Clara said nothing, hoping that her silence would compel a response. “I mean, Gemma or Mark could probably check for you.” She continued to look at him with big doe eyes and he finally acquiesced. “Actually, I’ll take a look in the office. It’s only from a few days ago. But I can only give you his name. No other information.”

“I really appreciate it, Cole. You know, this guy might be the key to finding out where Maddy went when she left the restaurant.”

Cole nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

In any other circumstance, Clara might have felt a little guilty for asking Cole to do something he was clearly uncomfortable with, but she was desperate. She knew the police would be able to get the man’s personal information from the credit card company, but in the meantime she could at least look for his name on Google or Facebook and contact him. She stood and walked over to the hostess, who seemed to be making notes in the reservation book.

“Rachael?” she asked, hoping she remembered her name correctly.

“Yes,” the woman replied with a big smile that faded a bit when she realized that Clara was the woman her boss had mentioned to her.

“I’m Clara Gardner. Madeline’s sister. I understand that you were working Monday night when she came for dinner?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry that she’s missing. I honestly don’t remember seating her that night, but I guess I must have.” Rachael’s broad, pretty mouth curved downward. She said, “I don’t know her. Your sister. So I don’t think I would have recognized her. Don’t suppose you have a picture?”

“I do, actually,” Clara scrolled through her phone until she found a headshot of her sister. “This is her. Ring any bells?”

The hostess took the cell phone and studied the picture. It was taken in Dovetail, at one of the tables by a window and Maddy was in her civilian clothes holding up a heart-shaped chocolate cake sized for two. Maddy had sent Clara the shot a few weeks ago on Valentine’s Day when the restaurant was serving the little flourless tortes on their prix fixe menu. The text message that went along with the photo said, “Thank god you’re the only Valentine I’ve ever needed, sis.”

Shaking her head, the hostess said, “No, I don’t remember her. It was kind of busy for a Monday and I don’t really interact with the customers except when they walk in and out.”

“Did she have a reservation?” She pointed at the book on the host stand.

“Yes. I already checked.” Rachael opened the leather-bound book to the date she’d marked by sticking a menu between the pages. “There’s a reservation for two under Maddy Gardner at seven o’clock.”

Sighing, Clara thought for a moment. She had hoped the reservation would be under her companion’s name. “Are you sure you didn’t notice her? She might have left in a hurry. Without the guy.”

Rachael shook her head, but then her eyes lit up. “Wait, does she have, like, a gorgeous suede coat? Knee length, camel color?”

Clara held her breath – she couldn’t believe it, couldn’t have gotten this lucky. “Belted. Soft as butter,” she replied.

“Yeah. I remember getting it from the cloakroom. I wanted it so bad! I was going to ask her where she bought it – not that I could ever afford one – but she was running out the door before she even had it all the way on.”

Clara waited but the woman just kept smiling at the revelation, or maybe it was just the memory of her sister’s coat. “And?”

“Oh. That’s it. She was gone. I didn’t think anything of it.”

Back at her table, Clara pushed her nearly full wine glass away and took a long drink of water. All of these stops and starts were playing games with her determination.
Is this what it’s like to be a cop?
she thought, feeling a pang of empathy for Detective Carlisle.

Cole finally came out with a folded slip of paper and handed it over. “Look, if you can help it, don’t mention that I did this. Customers don’t like it when we talk about them. And Gemma and Mark don’t like anything that customers don’t like.”

“I won’t say anything. Anyway, the police will probably ask for his information when they get around to talking to you.”

“Listen, don’t do anything crazy, okay? You don’t know if this guy has something to do with Maddy’s disappearance. Just don’t meet him in any dark alleys or anything like that.”

She thanked him and stood to leave. Cole refused her request for the check, so she left a generous tip for the waitress and waved goodbye to Rachael on her way out. Bone tired, the minute she was on the street Clara started looking for a taxi.

During the ride back to her hotel she called her parents and caught them up, and by nine o’clock was showered and wrapped in a thick white bathrobe, sprawled on the king-sized bed with a bottle of water and a map of downtown Seattle unfolded in front of her, the city lights sparkling outside the large windows of her twenty-fifth floor room. Time to call Detective Carlisle.

Finding her phone in the bottom of her purse, Clara dialed the number on the business card the detective had given her that afternoon. When she was prompted to leave a message, she delineated what she had learned at Gigi’s, including the names of the waitress and hostess and the table where Maddy had had dinner. In case the detective didn’t think of it, she added that there might be a record of the credit card payment. She also told the detective that Maddy had been dining with a man, but didn’t give the man’s name or mention that she had talked Cole into giving it to her. She wanted to talk to this guy first. If the cops didn’t figure out who he was by tomorrow she would tell them. In the meantime, if they couldn’t figure it out on their own, at least she would have an idea of how hard they were trying.

Next, she unpacked her laptop, then unfolded the piece of paper Cole had given her.

“Benjamin Radcliffe,” she read aloud. “Who are you?” A Google search turned up an unmanageable number of hits, so she opened her Facebook account, typed his name and he came up at the top of the list. He was around Maddy’s age and lived in Seattle, and, Facebook told her, he was a friend of her sister. Clara’s original intention was to contact him through her sister’s account, but since she didn’t know her password that would have to wait until the next day when she went back to Maddy’s apartment and could use her computer. She sent him a friend request and began reading his profile, but there wasn’t much there; then she looked through his posts, but his photos and personal information were restricted to friends. Moving on to Twitter, she found him right away but didn’t glean any new information from his profile or his tweets. She would just have to wait.

Without getting up, Clara wiggled herself under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp. The last thing she did before falling asleep was call Maddy’s cell phone. And the last thing she heard before falling asleep was a mechanical voice telling her the voicemail account she had dialed was full. Try again later.