The Perfect Couple (22 page)

He wasn't in. It was after eight o'clock, but just barely, and that was obviously too early. Other people still had regular lives.

She pictured him sitting at breakfast with his wife, enjoying a second cup of coffee before heading in to the office, and couldn't help resenting him for not being available. She had no right to expect more than he was doing.

He'd been responsive, was checking out every lead, keeping an eye on the shelters, talking to the neighbors. But it was just a job to him. Sam's case wasn't very different from all the others that needed to be solved.

Curling her fingernails into the palm of her free hand, Zoe called Skye. She hated to ask her friend for more help. The Last Stand was already paying for Jonathan and had funded their trip to Los Angeles. But she knew she'd do anything, even beg in the street, if it meant finding her child. She needed to get more media coverage. Someone had to have seen her daughter.

Maybe Skye had contacts who could help them distribute a new press release, get Sam's picture on TV again.

The phone rang three times, but at that point a beep signaled an 143

incoming call. Expecting it to be the detective she'd just tried to reach, she switched over.

"Hello?"

"Hey, how's it goin'?"

It wasn't Thomas; it was her former neighbor, Colin Bell.

The sound of his voice immediately evoked the memory of his drunken behavior last night.

"I'm fine," she lied. Because she no longer trusted his motives, she no longer wanted his help or support. She'd do this herself, which was what life always came down to for her, anyway. "How're you?"

"Embarrassed and worried."

She didn't want to hear why. Despite that one bright spot when he'd gone with her to create the flyers, she preferred to avoid him. But he charged ahead before she could respond.

"I'm sorry about my behavior last night, Zoe. Tiffany told me I was acting like a lecher, and it probably frightened you. I don't know what got into me."

"I'd say it was one drink too many."

"It was several drinks too many," he said. "Sometimes I let the pressure at work bother me and I drink too much. But that's no excuse for making what you're going through worse."

If he'd acted cavalier about his behavior, she would've remained perturbed, but he seemed so earnest. "Apology accepted."

"Really?" he said. "You're not just saying that? I feel like such an ass."

She smiled. Her neighbor's overfriendly behavior wasn't one of her bigger concerns. At least he acknowledged that he'd crossed the line.

Considering his contrition and the fact that it was unlikely to happen again now that she wouldn't be living next door, there was no point in harboring a grudge. And knowing his wife was aware of his behavior was comforting.

"Forget it. You weren't yourself."

He gave a low whistle. "You're as generous as you are beautiful, you know that? But I don't mean anything inappropriate by it, so don't go all silent on me."

"Then I'll simply say thank-you," she said with a laugh.

"And now for the 'worried' part. I ran into Anton when I got in my car to come to work and he said you'd moved out."

"I have."

"I hope it didn't have anything to do with me."

Echoes of last night made her ill at ease. "Why would it have to do with you?"

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"It happened so fast. I was afraid he might've made more of our being together at Kinko's than he should have."

At this she let her breath go in relief. "No, it wasn't that. It was...a combination of a lot of things." Blind hope. Stupidity. Grasping for a personality type that didn't fit her own. Fortunately, there was no need to go into detail, so she blamed the catalyst. "I guess our relationship couldn't withstand the strain of having Samantha go missing."

"He wasn't good enough for you, anyway, Zoe. An old guy like that...I never could understand what you saw in him."

She saw safety, security. But she doubted someone as young and successful as Colin could relate. He'd never had to fight for survival.

In any case, what she'd believed Anton could provide had been an illusion. He'd let her down as much as the men who'd come before him.

Maybe more.

But she couldn't blame it all on him. They probably would've broken up months ago if she'd allowed herself to see him for what he really was.

He'd given her a nice home to live in, went to work each day, and avoided drugs and alcohol, but he didn't fulfill her.

She thought of Jonathan and the desire she'd experienced when he'd brushed his lips against her neck. That had brought about a reawakening, had shown her that she'd closed off her sexual self too soon. "I guess we weren't as well-suited as I thought."

"He didn't leave you high and dry, did he? You've got money?

Because if you don't, I can lend you some."

Any trace of the bad feelings she'd had toward her neighbor disappeared. She didn't want to borrow from him any more than she wanted to borrow from Anton. They didn't know each other well enough, and she couldn't imagine Tiffany would be happy about it.

Still, it was very nice of him to offer. "I'm okay for now. Thanks for checking."

"Where are you staying?"

"At a motel." The Lexus Motel.

"Which one?"

She smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes. "Just a little twelve-room motel downtown." She'd seen a couple of those last night, and even before that, back in the days when she'd had a meal or two at Loaves and Fishes.

"You mean that one off Sixteenth Street?"

"I didn't pay attention. I just pulled in."

"Oh." There was a pause. "What's the latest on Sam?"

"No change."

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"Really? The police can't tell you anything?"

She started the car and cringed when the gas gauge stopped at half a tank. "Just that they're doing all they can."

"It's not enough."

"I feel the same way." But maybe there was nothing more they could do. Even Jonathan couldn't figure out what'd happened, what'd gone wrong.

"I've put together a small search party with some of the attorneys and secretaries here in the office. I thought we'd visit the neighborhoods surrounding ours tomorrow morning and pass out Sam's picture, then comb the vacant land next to our development."

Just when she'd decided she didn't like Colin, he made another grand gesture. What was the matter with her? She needed friends. And she couldn't afford to be too selective. Especially with people who were willing to help.

"The police are supposed to be out there looking today, but...it can't hurt to go over the same ground."

"My thoughts exactly."

"I really appreciate the help."

"No gratitude necessary. But can you come over for dinner tonight so we can create the routes?" he asked. "I'll pick up some maps over lunch."

If he was taking the time to do this, how could she refuse? "Sure.

When would you like me there?"

"We're seeing some old friends at nine, so...why don't we do it at six?"

It was an early appointment, and he wasn't planning on making a night of it. That meant the meeting couldn't be construed as anything but business, which wiped out the last of her misgivings. "Six works for me."

"Great. See you then," he said and hung up.

Zoe sighed as she pressed the End button. Anton was history; the neighbor she hadn't liked very much, except for a few unexpected moments, was friendlier than ever. Her daughter was still missing. She had little money, no home and no job. And she couldn't forget her hotel stay with Skye's investigator. She was so lost, and he seemed like the only person she could cling to.

How could so much have changed in a few short days?

Instead of calling Skye again, Zoe decided to drive over to The Last Stand. She put the car in gear and bounced along as her tires encountered the deep ruts she'd traversed last night. But her phone rang before she reached the highway, so she stopped to answer it. "Hello?"

"Zoe? It's Jonathan."

"I know." She'd recognized his voice instantly. "How are you?"

"Hopeful," he said. "It's a long shot, but I think we might have a lead."

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"What do you mean you invited Zoe over for dinner?"

Tiffany was supposed to be starting her ten o'clock rounds, doing a room check to make sure none of the old folks had wandered off. But Colin's call had caught her staring longingly at the candy bars inside the vending machine. Occasionally, she broke down and bought one. She'd sneak it into a bathroom stall, eat it fast, then flush the evidence because she didn't need any of her coworkers teasing her about cheating on her diet or, worse, mentioning the breach to Colin.

"Exactly what I said," he replied. "Have it ready by six."

She lowered her voice so that anyone who might come upon her wouldn't hear. "We can't have Zoe over."

"Why not?"

She rattled the keys in the pocket of her smock, which went to the door that locked the Alzheimer's wing. Although she wasn't assigned to that section, she had to keep the keys with her at all times to accommodate guests. Most days it seemed pointless to tote them around. The Alzheimer's residents received few visitors. But everyone who worked at the home had access--to make it appear less prisonlike to those who did happen to come.

"What if she goes upstairs, Colin?"

"She's too polite for that. And we'll be with her the whole time. She won't go anywhere."

"This is unnecessary." In her mind, inviting Zoe into their home went beyond reckless to foolhardy. But Colin seemed to be getting more and more foolhardy. These days he had a constant thirst for stimulation and seemed to feel invincible. That combination was going to get them both in trouble.

"Are you kidding? Tiff--" He swore in frustration. "Hang on a sec. I need to close my door."

As she waited anxiously, she imagined him rounding his desk and quietly closing the expensive, heavy door to his swanky office. She'd been the fat girl others made fun of in school, yet she'd married a lawyer--one with a prestigious firm. She was so proud of Colin, of their home and what she'd become. She loved bumping into people who knew her way back when, enjoyed their reaction when they realized who she was and how much she'd changed. That actually had more to do with the reason she didn't want Zoe in her house. This was the first time her husband had been so taken with 148

another woman. Tiffany couldn't let the infatuation continue; it could get out of hand.

He came back on the line, but his voice was so low she had trouble making out the words.

"What?" she said.

"I know what I'm doing."

"I understand it makes us look good to help, but...why can't you plan the search routes on your own?"

"Because I want her to see how hard we're working. If we can win her loyalty, she'll be the first to defend us if accusations ever arise."

"Then do it at her place, with Anton. His loyalties are important, too."

"She doesn't live there anymore. She left that old tight-ass last night. I told you they'd never get married."

This wasn't encouraging news. The thought of Zoe being available spooked Tiffany. "We could still meet her off-site. How's it smart to invite her into our house when...when you know why we shouldn't?"

"It's a preemptive strike. I've been thinking about Rover. If he does wake up and starts running his mouth, he might come up with a few key details. If any of those details match us, Zoe could get suspicious. We live right next door to where Sam went missing, after all. So we open our home, make her feel she can move around freely in it. By the time she leaves tonight, she'll be so convinced we have nothing to hide she'll immediately discount any similarities as coincidence."

"But why tonight?" Tiffany complained. This was her one chance to recapture her husband's full attention, to convince him she hadn't lost her ability to satisfy him. "I don't get off until five. And then I have to go to the gym."

A voice, cracking with age, interrupted. "Tiffany? Tiffany Bell, is that you?"

It was Mrs. Floyd in 32-D, just around the corner.

Tiffany covered the receiver to respond to her. "Yes, it's me. What do you need?"

"I can't reach my blanket."

Mrs. Floyd made up any excuse to draw Tiffany to her bedside.

Usually Tiffany didn't mind. She understood the loneliness suffered by so many of their residents. But it wasn't sympathy that motivated her to duck into Mrs. Floyd's room today. She wanted to avoid the searching eye of her boss, who constantly roved around the home and could come upon her at any moment.

"Here you go." She spread the blanket over the old lady's feet.

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"Tiffany?" Colin said.

"What?"

"Forget the gym for today and stop at the grocery store to buy whatever you need. Grab some tri-tip that's already been grilled. Then you'll only have to make a couple of sides. And don't forget to get some munchies for the guys."

"Who're you talking to?" the old lady demanded.

"My husband." Tiffany put a finger to her lips to indicate quiet. "So they're still coming?" she said into the phone. "Tommy and James?"

"You told me you wanted them to. Are you changing your mind now that you have me all excited?"

"No, of course not."

A shadow darkened the doorway and yet another voice interrupted her conversation. "Tiffany?"

Tiffany looked up to see her boss. "Yes?"

"Focus on your work."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll get off right away."

"Make it now." Folding her arms, Amanda Hargraves waited to see that Tiffany followed through.

"I have to go," she told Colin.

"Just have the house ready, and make sure you've taken precautions with our new pet," he hurried to add.

She glanced nervously at Amanda. "The usual?"

"Two pills this time. I don't want any surprises. This is going to be a big night."

It promised to be quite a party, all right. But as Tiffany ended the call, she couldn't say she was looking forward to it. Her only hope was that Colin would be pleased, that it would put him in a great mood for a weekend at the cabin.