Absolutely, Positively (19 page)

Jemima looked at him as though he had three heads. “She’s never skipped before. And even if she did today where is she now? Why didn’t she turn up at play practice? Why hasn’t she answered her phone?”

Dovie rested a hand on Jemima’s shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be all right. Lucy, can you do a reading?”

I was tired. So tired. And the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. But I couldn’t say no. “Sure.”

Rick’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed away from the table. “This is nonsense. She’s almost eighteen. She’ll be home soon. You baby her too much. We should go. They’re not going to hold our dinner reservations.”

Dinner reservations? He was thinking about going out to eat at a time like this? Even if Christa had played hooky, which was entirely likely, she’d never done so before and Jemima had every right to be worried.

“Actually,” Jemima said, glaring at him, “I’m starting to think I didn’t baby her enough.”

“Whatever,” he said. He took up a spot near the back door and looked out at the ocean. “Just hurry it up.”

Talk about a baby.

“This will only work if Christa has something on her that you’ve given her as a gift. Jewelry, a cell phone, that sort of thing.”

Jemima frowned as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know what she was wearing today. How could I not know what she was wearing?”

I didn’t want to answer, so I said, “Cell phone?”

“Mac bought it for her,” Jemima said.

“IPod?”

“Mac.”

“Watch?”

“She doesn’t wear one.”

“Class ring?”

“She doesn’t own one.”

Rick sniggered from the corner. I was glad Em wasn’t here to see it.

Dovie said, “Her car?”

Jemima brightened. “It’s Rick’s old car.”

“Then I can only probably get a reading from Rick.” Great. Fantastic. A wonderful way to cap my day.

“No thanks,” he said.

Jemima stood, squared her shoulders. She was wearing a long suede skirt and a pale blue wraparound sweater. Her hair was twisted and clipped in an updo, showing off a small hummingbird tattoo at the nape of her neck.

Dovie came and stood by my side.

“I suggest,” Jemima said to her husband, “you rethink your stance.”

He faced her. “Or else?”

He was saved from her answer by the ringing of a cell phone. Jemima snatched it out of her pocket, stared at the screen, and burst into tears. “Where have you been?” she cried as she answered. “Where are you now?” A beat later she said, “Home? You’re at home?”

Rick rolled his eyes.

Jemima said, “We’ll be right there.”

Rick was already on his way to the door. Jemima gave Dovie a quick hug. “Thank you,” she said.

“Did she say where she’s been?” Dovie asked.

Jemima smiled. “Shopping in the city with her girlfriends. I could kill her if I wasn’t so relieved.”

Dovie showed them out, closed the door, and said, “Good riddance.”

My soup was probably cold by now. Thank goodness for microwaves. I was going home and not coming back out till morning. I had one hand on the door, ready to make a quick escape, when Dovie cleared her throat.

“I have a favor to ask,” she said.

Something easy, I silently begged. “Oh?”

“I have a date tonight.” She did the cha-cha around the foyer. “With the cutest doctor from Marisol’s clinic. He’s a bit younger than me—not much,” she was quick to point out, “and I thought why the hell not?”

“That’s great! Are you going dancing?” Marisol would be gloating the next time I talked with her.

“Dinner and dancing and then,” Dovie waggled her eyebrows, “who knows.”

I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Lalalala.” First my parents, now this. I couldn’t take much more. “What’s the favor?”

Dovie looked up the stairs. “Rufus. I’ll take him out before I leave, but he’ll need a walk around nine.”

Maybe my plan for Dovie to adopt Rufus had been ill thought out.

“And I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” More eyebrow waggling. “So he may have to go out again around midnight.”

Definitely not my best idea. “Why don’t I just bring him home with me now?”

Dovie’s eyes lit. “Perfect! Why hadn’t I thought of that myself?”

She wasn’t fooling me.

22

Rufus tugged me along and for a while I wasn’t sure who was walking who.

Who. Whom? Where was Preston when I needed her? Scratch that. I couldn’t handle Preston right now. I really just wanted some alone time. Now that the caffeine was kicking in I wasn’t as tired, so I thought about indulging my love of musicals dragging out my DVD of
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

Dusk settled early this time of year. The bluffs were in shadow, while the setting sun danced along the water as Rufus did his business.

My cell phone rang, and I thought for sure it was going to be Sean with an update. It wasn’t—it was Marisol, and sure enough, she was gloating.

“You should have seen Dovie and Dr. Kearney, Lucy. Your father couldn’t have planned it any better.”

“He would be proud.”

“Well, I can’t see auras, but I know people. They’re perfect for each other.”

“Maybe so.” I didn’t want to set my hopes as high as Marisol’s. I’d been down this road before with my grandmother. “Have you heard from Em?”

Rufus tugged at the leash. He led me down the long drive toward the main road, sniffing his way along the lane and stopping to mark every bush in sight.

“She called from the airport before her flight took off. She sounds happy.”

“I don’t like her going alone.”

“Me, either,” Marisol agreed, “but it might do her some good. She’s been having a harder time adjusting to single life than I thought. Has Aiden asked her out yet?”

The driveway was lined on both sides with woods Dovie’s landscapers kept from encroaching onto the gravel. Flowers and trees had been added over the years to accentuate what Mother Nature had already made beautiful. In the spring, crocuses, daffodils, and tulips would be the first colors to show against the dull browns and greens left by a long winter. “Not yet.”

“What’s he waiting for?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a sign from Em.”

“This could go on forever. We need to push this along. Let me think on this. I’ll get back to you.”

She hung up, and I stared at the phone. Before I knew it, she’d be asking my father for a job.

Rufus stopped and marked the trunk of a beech tree. He pressed on, dragging me behind, and as we neared the end of the driveway I nearly fell over Rufus when he stopped short, freezing mid-step. Then I heard it. The snap of a twig to my right. Rufus barked. I squinted, trying to make out any forms in between the shadowy trees. My heart beat hard against my ribs.

After a long minute, Rufus licked my hand, set his nose to the ground, and led me away. I was being paranoid again, that was all. Twigs snapped in the woods all the time. There was nothing nefarious about a squirrel scampering from tree to tree.

Along the main road, two mailboxes sat along the edge of a small crescent cut out of the woods—a safe pull-off for the mail carrier. Rufus investigated the area around the black posts as I scooped the mail from my box.

While Rufus sniffed around, I picked through bills and catalogs and several handwritten envelopes to me—probably requests for my services. I opened one of the letters. It was a request from a teenaged boy to find the diamond necklace he had “borrowed” from his mother so his girlfriend could wear it to a costume party. He had gone dressed as a sugar daddy and she his trophy wife. I smiled but knew I couldn’t help the boy unless he was willing to confess to his mother—I’d need to do the reading on her.

Tucked in between two letters was a postcard with a picture of the Old North Church on the front. It had a Boston postmark.

M
ISS YOU
! W
ISH YOU WERE HERE
! S
EE YOU SOON
!

—C
UTTER

The smart-ass had mailed it before he left town.

Laughing, I tugged Rufus away from a poison sumac tree. Though it was winter, the oil could still rub off on his fur. “Come on, Rufus. Let’s head back.”

I heard revving sounds as a car barreled down the road, its engine roaring. I dove for Rufus as the car lurched to a stop two feet from where I cowered, sending bits of snow flying into the air along with my mail.

Rufus licked my chin as I shook with fear, with anger.

“Are you crazy?” I shouted as the driver opened the door. Then I couldn’t say anything at all.

“Don’t look so scared, Ms. Valentine. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.”

“I thought that wasn’t your style?”

Smiling, Tristan Rourke said, “It’s not, but it sounded good, didn’t it?”

He walked over to me, patted Rufus’s head. “Cute dog.”

Rufus flopped onto the snow and rolled onto his back, obviously hoping Tristan wasn’t opposed to giving him a belly rub.

Grendel would have held out. He had a lot more pride.

Tristan crouched and obliged the dog. Rufus’s tongue hung against the side of his muzzle in ecstasy.

I glanced at the car, an older-model black Chevy, trying to memorize the license plate number. Just in case I made it out of here alive.

“Don’t bother,” Tristan said, crossing his arms. Muscles bulged. He wasn’t wearing a coat. “It’s stolen.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

He laughed and scooped up my mail, leaving Rufus wriggling in the snow trying to stand up.

Handing me the stack of mail, Tristan said, “I don’t have long.”

“Why have you been following me around?”

“I want Meaghan’s information.”

As if I was going to hand it over to him when he was wanted for murder—despite what she thought she wanted. She wasn’t thinking straight. Love could do that to a girl. Luckily, I wasn’t obligated to share the information. She was no longer a client of mine.

“Maybe you should turn yourself in,” I suggested.

“Why?”

Good question. If he turned himself in, he was going to jail. For a long, long time. That wouldn’t hold much appeal to me, either.

When I didn’t say anything, he added, “I’m not guilty, Ms. Valentine. I didn’t run over Spero, though I’d like to thank the person who did.”

“There’s an eyewitness.”

He shrugged. “That person is mistaken.”

Not a chance.

“Now, about Meaghan’s information…”

“No,” I said.

“I don’t want to do this the hard way.”

I took a step back.

He sighed. “Didn’t I tell you violence wasn’t my style?”

“I didn’t believe you.”

Rufus tugged on the leash. He was eager to get on with his walk. I heard an engine in the distance, drawing closer. I wouldn’t mind a bit if it was a police cruiser.

Tristan heard it, too. He jumped into his car, rolled down the window. “I always get what I want, Ms. Valentine. I’ll be in touch.”

Unfortunately, I believed him.

He drove off, and the car I had heard coming never materialized. I let Rufus walk me back to the house.

We were almost to my front door when Rufus froze again, his ear cocked, his head tipped to the side in doggy concentration. I tried to pick up on what caught his attention, but I could only hear the crashing of the waves against the bluff.

Suddenly Rufus bolted. I lost hold of his leash as he darted off toward the woods on Dovie’s side of the lot. He was barking and wagging his tail as he galloped along. I dropped the mail and gave chase but was winded by the time I reached the top of my lane. I watched Rufus run down the driveway, and in a blink he was out of sight. I knew I couldn’t keep up with him. I went back for my car. And three hours of frantic searching and many tears later, I had to admit to myself I’d lost him.

23

Grendel was sleeping atop my head when I woke to the sound of the phone ringing. It had jarred me awake from the most awful dream—I had lost Rufus.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes. They were crusty from salty tears.

Right. It hadn’t been a dream.

I rolled to my right, quickly grabbed the phone from its base, hoping someone had seen the message I’d posted on craigslist last night about a missing golden retriever. “Hello?”

“Uva,” Raphael said. “It’s me.”

I focused on the clock. It was just after seven. I’d slept for only an hour. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Your father needs you to come in to the office as soon as possible.”

“Why?” I had a dog to find. If this wasn’t important …

“There’s been a break-in and Oscar wants you to check and see if anything is missing.”

There was a tight edge to Raphael’s voice. I knew he hadn’t told me everything yet. “What else?”

There was a long pause. “There was also a break-in at the penthouse. The Vermeer is gone, the Gandolfi, too.”

I sat up. “Tristan Rourke.”

“We think so, yes.”

I knew so. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I’d only had an hour’s rest. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Taking a quick shower, I let my hair air-dry to save time. I fed Grendel and Odysseus and grabbed the
LOST DOG
poster I’d made of Rufus last night. I needed to make copies and hang them on every streetlight around town. But as I gathered all my things, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be wasting my time.

It seemed to me Tristan Rourke had been on a stealing spree last night.

Had it extended to dognapping as well?

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

*   *   *

Suz was sitting at her desk when I came into the office, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. “I set the alarm last night.”

I gave her a hug. “It’s not your fault. Really. Tristan Rourke isn’t a criminal mastermind for nothing. Our alarm system is child’s play to him. Is my father here?”

“He’s at his penthouse. He wants you to go there as soon as you look around here.”

I did a quick scan of the front room. Nothing was out of place. Even the binoculars were still sitting on the windowsill exactly where I left them yesterday. In my office I could tell someone had gone through my files, but nothing was taken.

I knew what Tristan was looking for. And it was in my satchel.