Undeniably Yours (18 page)

Elliman Bay’s words echoed in my head.
“A forewarning… When I last spoke to her, she wasn’t in the best frame of mind.”

I bit my lip. “Well, yes, but we might be able to help you find her. Can we come in?”

He tossed his hands in the air and spun around, leaving the door open behind him.

Sean said softly, “Kira, Dustin, two other little kids, Nya, and now Cat all missing? What in the hell is going on?”

At this point I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I had a bad feeling about it all, one that twisted and twined around my soul, squeezing it tight.

Sean closed the door behind us as we followed Ross into the living area. He sank into a leather recliner, and motioned for us to sit on the couch.

Behind him, a brick fireplace was stained with soot. The mantel was decorated with grapevine, candles, and several photos of Cat and Ross. In each, the couple mugged for the camera, looking happy and carefree. It was a far cry from the way he looked now.

“How long has Cat been missing?” I asked.

“Since Thursday afternoon. I got a call at work from her at eleven, completely hysterical. She asked me to come home. I cancelled my class—I’m a professor at Plymouth Bay College,” he said by way of explanation. “But I hit traffic and by the time I made it home, she wasn’t here. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Why was she upset?” Sean asked.

I noticed another photo on the mantel, a group shot that looked like it was taken at a Christmas party. Ross had his arm slung around Cat, who stood next to Elliman, two other women, and the receptionist I’d seen earlier today. Not long after that joyous picture, Dustin had gone missing. It made me feel ill that an agency created to do so much good had messed up so badly.

Ross clenched his jaw. “Because that reporter cornered her in the grocery store parking lot, peppering her with questions about her car and her whereabouts and it freaked Cat out.”

“Reporter? Kira Fitzpatrick?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said. “She’s been harassing Cat for a couple of weeks now. I’d like to give her a piece of my mind. I mean, no one blames Cat for what happened to that little boy more than Cat herself. It’s eating her up. She doesn’t need the reminder of her mistakes day in and day out. The phone calls. The drop-by visits. If anything’s happened to Cat, I blame that woman and her badgering.”

Sean’s eyebrows dipped. “You do know Kira Fitzpatrick is missing, right?”

Ross’s shoulders stiffened as Sean’s words registered. “What?”

“She’s missing,” Sean said again. “Disappeared on Thursday night.”

“Thursday?” Ross echoed.

“It’s been on the news,” I said, wondering if Cat could possibly have had anything to do with Kira’s disappearance. Kira had been awfully interested in Cat’s car, and we’d heard from several people that Kira claimed she’d been close to solving the case. Had talking with Cat on Thursday morning been the turning point for Kira?

Ross dragged a hand down his face. “I haven’t been watching the news. I’ve been looking for my wife.”

I waited for the moment he realized the two events might be related and saw it as the color drained from his face. He, however, said nothing, probably not wanting to implicate Cat.

“Do you know if Cat came home after the run-in with Kira Fitzpatrick?” Sean asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “She called me from the grocery store lot. She said she was going home…”

“Is anything missing here? Like she packed a bag and left?” I asked. It was possible she’d run away. I’d give almost anything to know what she and Kira discussed.

“No clothes or anything like that,” he said. “Her car is gone, her purse, her phone. That’s it. The phone has been turned off—calls go straight to voicemail. Our bank account shows no new transactions.”

Sean said, “Aside from being upset by the confrontation at the grocery store, how was Cat’s frame of mind?”

I recognized his tactic. We knew from Elliman Bay that Cat had been depressed, but would her husband be honest with us?

Sighing, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Honestly, she was…fragile. Ever since she learned that little boy was missing, she’s blamed herself. She’s barely eating. Barely sleeping. She finally went to a doctor a week ago. He prescribed a depression medication.”

“Does she have it with her?” I asked.

“It’s sitting on her nightstand.” His wrung his hands.

Sean said, “I hate to ask this, but do you think she’d harm herself?”

“I—” His voice cracked. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. She wasn’t herself…” He gave himself a good shake as though he could slough off his uncertainty. “How can you help?” he asked. “The police said there’s nothing they can do until we get some sort of lead. Her using a credit card or something like that.”

I gave him my standard speech about my abilities, how they worked, and my role with the state police. “With Cat, our chances are really good that I can find her. I can usually get a reading from wedding rings, because in my world, they’re gifts you give each other. I can probably smell an item of her clothing to get a scent reading to find out where she is, and is her car in both your names?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Then it belongs to you, too, so I can find where it is.”

One of his eyebrows lifted in skepticism. “You can really do that?”

“I really can,” I said. “Are you willing to do a reading?”

“Yeah, of course.” He still sounded distrustful.

I was used to nonbelievers. It came with the job. I hopped over and sat on his chair’s ottoman. “I need you to focus on that wedding ring, and I should be able to read its energy through your palm.”

“Okay,” he said under his breath.

His hands were clammy as I rested my palms on top of his. In a flash, I saw the platinum wedding band, sitting alongside a solitaire diamond ring. I drew my hands back and looked around. “Does Cat take her rings off when washing dishes?”

“Yeah. How’d you—”

“Her rings are sitting in a little dish next to the kitchen sink.”

Ross jumped up and jogged into the kitchen. He came back a second later with the rings in his hand. “She must’ve forgotten to put them back on. That happens sometimes.”

“Does she wear any other jewelry? Something you gave her as a gift?”

He shook his head.

“Well, let’s try a reading on the car. It’s blue, right? With a smiley ball on the antenna?”

He slowly sank back onto the chair. “How’d you know that?”

“Came up in our investigation.” I said. “Do you know if Cat was working on January third?”

After a second, he said, “I can’t recall exactly when she went back after the holiday. Why?”

Sean said, “Someone may have seen her at Dustin McDaniel’s house that day.”

“Impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “She openly admits she hadn’t seen him since December. Who’s saying this? What’s to gain from it?”

What was to gain? I hoped the truth, but I understood him trying to protect his wife. Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I tried to diffuse his growing unease. “It’s just a loose end. Now, think about that car, okay?”

Faint wrinkles pulled at the corners of his downturned lips. He held out his hands. “All right.”

I set my palms on top of his and closed my eyes. It took only a moment to see the blue car, and I easily recognized the location where it was parked. “It’s at the Quincy Adams T station.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Ross said, shaking his head. “What’s it doing there? Did you see Cat?”

“No. Do you have something with her scent on it? A pillow? A shirt?”

He jumped up. “I’ll get them.”

When he left the room, Sean whispered, “You think Cat had something to do with Kira’s disappearance?”

“I don’t like the timing,” I whispered.

“Me either.”

Ross came back, carrying a pillow, a shirt, and two sweaters. “I don’t get it,” he said. “If you can find things, why can’t you find the little boy?”

“Just things,” I said.

“Like the set of car keys Cat lost in December at the Christmas party?” he asked, a hint of a smile on his face. “We couldn’t find them anywhere, and you’d think they’d be easy to find with the big yellow smiley face key fob, but no. I wish you’d been around then. It was an expensive taxi ride home.”

I knew all about expensive taxi rides. “Yes, like that. If Cat were here, I could find the keys. We do have a lead on the little boy, though, through an item that belonged to him. We’re waiting for its arrival.”

“Incredible,” he said, holding out the items he’d selected. “I know a lot of people, including Cat and I, want to know what really happened. It’ll be nice to have some closure. Selfishly, I look forward to the day Cat and I can go back to living normally. First, I need to find her.”

I took the bundle and hopped back to the couch as he sat back down, watching me closely.

I inhaled, exhaled, and tried to calm my jumping nerves. Closing my eyes, I brought the pillow up to my face and breathed deeply. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I saw nothing at all. I grabbed the shirt, repeating the process. Again, I saw nothing. The same happened with the sweaters.

“What?” Ross asked, leaning forward, hope etched in his features.

I glanced at Sean and said, “I don’t see anything at all.”

Ross jumped to his feet. “What’s that mean?”

“Could be she’s sleeping,” Sean said quickly.

Right. I didn’t want to voice the other option: That I couldn’t see anything through Cat’s eyes because she was dead.

A
couple of hours later, I decided “home sweet home” was a fallacy.

Home crazy home, maybe.

It was a nuthouse around this place. Mum stood at the stove, making beef stroganoff for supper that smelled wonderful but had every pot and pan I owned either on the stovetop or the counter. A fresh batch of cookies had been plated and another cookie sheet was in the oven.

My mother stress cooked.

“Dovie’s called my cell phone three times today,” Mum said. “I think she knows something’s going on. Do you think Mac tipped her off?”

So much for Cutter killing her phone. “No. I think she has an internal warning system for deception.” It was uncanny, really. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing! I didn’t answer.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “You know I have trouble lying.”

I definitely did not get my fibbing skills from her. “She’s probably wondering what’s going on because you’re not answering your phone.” The two were partners in crime—sometimes literally. They often talked several times a day.

My mother transferred cookies from a baking sheet to a cooling rack. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Well,” I said, “you’ve been busy. Baking, babysitting, building me a new house, and avoiding Dad. Why are you avoiding Dad?”

Popping a cookie in her mouth, she spoke around it. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

I threw a look at Ava, hoping she hadn’t heard that, but she was busy playing with the farm animals that came with a Fisher-Price Little People farm. She was
mooing
to her heart’s content. “Does this mean you two are separated again?”

I’d been expecting this day for a few months now. My parents’ relationship had been off more than on, and this particular stretch had been on for longer than I ever imagined.

“No,” she said, making a face at me. “It just means I don’t want to look at him today. Tonight will be soon enough. I’m sure he appreciates the break from me as well.”

Smiling, I shook my head. Only my parents.

My phone rang, and I reached over and grabbed it off the dining room table. It was Marisol. “Where are you?” I asked at the noise in the background.

“At a bar in Stockbridge.”

“What are you doing there?”

“I’m on a date.”

I drew my lip into my mouth.

“Don’t you dare give me the silent treatment, Lucy!”

I imagined her dark eyes narrowing and her hands gesturing. “I’m not.”

“Look, I tried a date with Mr. Mysterious and it’s just not going to work out,” she said.

“Why not?”

“I like guys who actually talk. Tell me about themselves. Where they grew up. Not guys who clam up. He’s a clammer. Oh, he’s sexy, I’ll give you that. Those eyes? I could die. But no. It’s not going to work.”

Suddenly, I smiled. She was trying way too hard to convince me. “Maybe he’s an oyster.”

“A what?”

“An oyster,” I repeated, making Ava’s toy horse leap over her legs. “If you’re patient enough, you get a pearl.”

“What a load of shit.”

I laughed, which made Ava laugh.

“What was that?” Marisol asked, instantly suspicious.

“A baby.”

“Whose? Did Dovie buy you one from the black market?”

In any other circumstance it would have made me laugh, but the joke hit a little too close to home. “Long story.”

“Related to the dog you tried to ditch with me?”

“Ditch is so harsh,” I said. “He needed a place to stay. Which reminds me…why isn’t he staying with you?”

“Clinic’s closed for painting this week. If you still have him next Monday, bring him by.”

“How long are you in Stockbridge?” I asked.

“Not much longer. The date sucks.”

“A clammer?”

“A groper,” she said dryly.

“Fun.”

“Sometimes,” she said, then said her goodbyes and hung up.

“Looks like we have the dog for another week at least,” I said to Sean.

He looked over the back of the couch. “What’s one more?”

Mum said, “You shouldn’t be putting questions like that into the universe.”

He frowned.

I wiped chocolate from the corners of Ava’s mouth, and she grinned at me. “
Scow
!” she cried, thumping the dog’s back with her tiny fist.

Scout didn’t seem to mind as he lifted his eyebrows, gave her a side glance, then went back to pretending to snooze. It made me wonder what he was thinking… Then I realized I knew who could tell me. Also, if Scout had seen or heard anything unusual Thursday night, he’d be able to tell Jeremy. I made the call and left a message on his machine.

I set my phone aside and hoped he wasn’t avoiding me. I needed his help.