Nowhere to Turn (20 page)

She frowned. “There isn't much to tell. We all went out to dinner and when we came back, the coins were gone.”

“What about earlier in the day?”

“Earlier? Well, I was home all morning. We all were. Then, around noon, my mom and I came to the hospital, and I spent the rest of the day here with Grandpa. Why?”

“I thought if you were at your grandfather's house, you might have seen something. Or noticed someone lurking around.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“What about your father?” I asked Isobel. “Was he at the house that afternoon?”

She shook her head. “He left before lunch. He had to go to a meeting out of town. Something about his business.”

“Do you know where the meeting was?”

She shook her head. “Only that it was out of town. And that it was the wrong day.”

“Wrong day?”

“He said he was almost there when he realized that he'd made a mistake. The meeting wasn't until the next week. He had to turn around and drive all the way home. We were supposed to meet him at the restaurant, but he showed up at Grandpa's house to pick us up.”

“Did he go to the meeting the next week?”

Isobel frowned. “I don't think so,” she said. “No, he didn't go anywhere. Maybe the meeting was canceled. He hasn't been in a very good mood.”

So Elliot had no alibi for most of the day of the robbery. But the coins hadn't been discovered missing until after the family came back from the restaurant.

“What about Connor? Where was he?”

“He went to the big reference library downtown to do some homework. Connor likes libraries. He said he found a nice desk off in the corner.”

“And you and your mom were here at the hospital all afternoon.”

Isobel shook her head again. “My mom was only here part of the time. She went off to buy a glass to replace one of Grandpa's special glasses that she accidentally broke that morning.”

“So she bought the glass, and then she came back to the hospital?”

“She came back to the hospital, but she didn't buy the glass. She said she went to every department store in town, but none of them had the exact same type.”

“She must have been gone for a long time,” I said.

“She was. Almost three hours.”

“After you left the hospital, what happened?”

“Mom and I went back to Grandpa's house. Connor showed up a little while after that. Then my dad showed up. He wanted to take a shower before we went out, but my mom said she was too hungry to wait.”

“Then what?”

“Then we went to dinner.”

“Do you remember what time?”

“Around seven thirty, when we left the house.”

That's what my dad had said. It had been in the police report.

“After dinner, we stopped at a bookstore so Connor could buy a coin magazine. As soon as we got home, Connor and I went up to check if Grandpa had a coin that he'd seen in the magazine. Orion was barking, so my dad went to check on him. That's when he noticed that there was something wrong with the side door—it had been broken open. By then Connor and I had found out the coins were missing. My dad called the police.”

“He told them about Nick, didn't he?”

Isobel nodded. “He told them where they could find him too.”

“How did he know where Nick was living?”

“I told you. Dad hired someone. He had Nick checked out. Connor and I heard him telling my mom before he fired Nick.”

“And he said he knew where Nick was living?”

“He had the address. He said it was an old building?”

I nodded. “But that's not where the police found Nick,” I said.

“I know,” Isobel said.

I stared at her. “You do?”

“The police came to Grandpa's house after they arrested Nick. They told my dad that Nick wasn't where Dad had said he might be, but they found a crowbar there. They said they found Nick someplace else and that he had some of Grandpa's coins on him. They showed them to my dad. But he didn't know if they were part of Grandpa's coin collection. He had to ask Connor.”

“And Connor identified them?”

She nodded. “He said they were Grandpa's. Then my dad found some papers from the insurance company. The coins were listed on it. My dad said it figured that the coins the police found were the least valuable ones in the whole collection.”

“Did they say where they'd found Nick?” I asked.

“They said he was staying with a girl. My dad asked if it was the girl who had come to the house with Nick—he described her. The police said yes. And that's all I know. I guess I haven't been very helpful, have I?”

I wasn't sure.

“Robyn?” She looked awkwardly at me. “I'm sorry I told my dad about you and Nick. He was so angry. I tried to tell him how much Grandpa liked Nick and that you were only trying to help.”

“It's okay, Isobel,” I said. “Tell your grandpa I'll come and see him soon. Tell him I'm thinking about him.”

“You don't have to do this,” I said when Ben pulled up outside of Henri's house. Henri lives in the heart of the financial district. Her closest neighbors—so close that they rub shoulders with her little house—are downtown office towers.

“I want to,” Ben said. “Unless there's some reason you don't want my help.”

“But it isn't your problem.”

“It isn't
yours
, either.” He looked at me for a moment. “You didn't answer when Isobel asked if I was your boyfriend. Is there something you're not telling me?”

I couldn't meet his eyes. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled. “There's just so much going on.”

He didn't say anything, but I knew he was disappointed by my answer. He got out of the car, circled around to my side, and opened the door for me.

We found Nick sitting at the big oak table in Henri's dining room, cutting a picture out of the newspaper. A huge stack of old papers sat on the table in front of him. He started to smile when he saw me, but his smile vanished when Ben followed me in.

“Where's Henri?” I said.

“Upstairs.” Henri is an artist—a painter. Her studio is on the second floor of her house. I looked at the scissors in Nick's hand and the small pile of photo clippings near his elbow.

“I asked if there was anything I could do,” he said. “It's for some new project she's planning.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down. Ben sat beside me.

“Nick,” I said. “Did you tell Elliot where you were living?”

“Are you kidding?” he said. “That's not something you go around telling everybody.”

“But he knew.”

Nick shrugged. “Like I said, he hired someone to check me out.”

“Were you the only person who slept in that building?”

“I saw six, maybe eight, different guys around at different times. It's a big place. People are always going inside to get in out of the wind or have a few drinks or whatever.”

“And where is this place exactly?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. No way.”

“Come on, Nick.”

Ben straightened up. He knew something was going on.

“You're not going down there, Robyn,” Nick said.

“Someone put those coins in your backpack without you knowing. The only time anyone could have done that was when you left your bag where you were sleeping and went to the hotel. Maybe one of the other people who hang out there saw something.”

“It's too dangerous,” Nick said. “Even I was careful down there. But you?”

“I'll go with her,” Ben said.

“You're kidding,” Nick said. I gave him a sharp look. “Come on, Robyn, look at him. Those jeans could be fresh from the cleaners. He looks like a rookie undercover cop.” He stood up. “I'll do it.”

“You can't and you know it. My dad agreed to take responsibility for you, and he wants you to stay here. Henri promised him she'd keep you here. And Ben has been volunteering at a homeless shelter for ages. He knows how to talk to people, Nick. He's good at it.”

Nick scowled at Ben. He was frustrated, and that made me worry for a moment. But he drew in a few deep breaths and his body unclenched.

“At least take Beej with you,” he said. “She's been down there before. She knows her way around. People always talk to Beej.”

“Beej?” Ben said.

“She's a friend of Nick's,” I said.

I had to admit it was a good idea. Although I had no doubt that Ben could talk to people, Beej could probably relate even better. I pulled out my phone and handed it to Nick. He punched in a number. Beej must have answered because Nick started to explain what he wanted. He told her that Ben and I would pick her up.

“Can I talk to her for a minute?” I said.

He handed me the phone again. When I finished the call, Nick said, “What's going on, Robyn?”

“When I figure that out, you'll be the first to know,” I promised.

Nick stood up and got scratch paper and a pencil from the kitchen counter. “Beej knows where the building is,” he said as he sketched. “I was staying here.” He drew an X in the northwest corner of the building he had drawn. “It's in the basement. It's warmer down there. There were some other guys sleeping in the building, but in different places. People stake their claim and everyone mostly respects that.”

I got up. So did Ben.

“Hey, Robyn?” Nick said.

I looked at him.

“You should dress down a little. Your boyfriend too.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

W

e stopped by my dad's place so that I could struggle into my oldest pair of jeans and my rattiest sweatshirt. I found a paint-splattered T-shirt and an old jacket that belonged to my father for Ben. Then we drove to Beej's place. She was waiting on the front steps of a narrow two-story house on a rundown street. She glanced at Ben's car but didn't come toward it until I called to her. She threw her backpack onto the seat beside her and thrust a gloved hand at Ben. “Hi, I'm Beej,” she said.

“Ben,” Ben said, shaking her hand.

“Nice car,” Beej said.

“Thanks.”

That's when she noticed that my jacket was buttoned over a cast and sling.

“What happened to you?” she said.

“I broke my arm.”

She didn't ask how. She just buckled up and gave Ben directions.

“Take a left,” Beej said twenty minutes later.

Ben pulled up to the curb a few blocks later.

I gazed around but didn't see anything resembling an abandoned warehouse. “This can't be the place,” I said. All I saw were office towers, nice restaurants, and a massive hotel, probably the one where Nick had gone to clean up.

“You think anyone will talk to us if you drive up like Cinderella in this carriage?” Beej said. “We park here and we walk. You brought a flashlight, right?”

“Flashlight?”

Beej rolled her eyes. “I didn't think so.”

“What do we need flashlights for?” I asked.

“It's an abandoned warehouse,” Beej said. “You think they keep the lights on?” She rummaged in her backpack, produced two flashlights, and handed one to me.

“I'm not sure I like the sound of this,” Ben said. “Maybe I should go and you girls should stay in the car.”

“If you want my opinion,
you
girls should stay in the car,” Beej said. “I can take care of this myself.”

Ben bristled.

“It'll be fine, Ben,” I said. “They're just people, right?”

“Right,” Beej said sourly. “We're just people.”

“I didn't mean—”

“You guys are strangers,” Beej said, “even if you are wearing your best ripped jeans. I don't care how many cups of coffee you served at some shelter. You're still going to make people nervous. If one of you wants to come with me, okay. But both? No way.”

“I'll go,” I said.

“But, Robyn—”

Beej had already let herself out.