Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (18 page)

Laura paused at the doorway. “What’s going on with Emmett? It’s been six days since the night of all nights was to take place, and you haven’t mentioned him this entire week.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, Linds. I know that. You’ve had a long and busy week. So here’s the deal. You go home tonight and relax with your bird, or your cleaning, or your music, or whatever. I am coming over tomorrow, and I’m not taking no for an answer. I will see you around ten o’clock. Be there, my friend.”

Laura was right on schedule the next morning, smiling. She held a hot mocha in one hand, a latte in the other. “Let’s get to work and figure this thing out,” she said.

Lindsey stepped aside, welcoming Laura in. “All we need to figure out is what happened to Emmett. We’ve got to find him. He could be sick or hurt…‌or worse!”

They settled in at the kitchen table and Laura dug into her voluminous purse and pulled out a notebook and pen. She nodded. “Well, I’ve given your situation a lot of thought, and I’ve made a list of questions just for that purpose. Did he ever use your landline?”

“Of course he did. He had to contact his publishers and make other business arrangements. He was on my house phone a lot‌—‌at least when I was home. I don’t know what he did when I was at school.”

“Okay. Let’s look at your most recent phone bill. Almost two of the weeks he lived here should show up.”

Lindsey shrugged, then reluctantly went into the office where she kept her financial files. “I don’t see how this will help.”

“Well, we should be able to see some phone numbers that he called often. Maybe someone has heard from him. It’s worth a try.”

Lindsey walked slowly back into the kitchen, eyes on her paperwork. She shook her head. “Nothing here. Just long distance calls I know that I made myself. All of his calls must have been local calls. See, Laura? He’s so considerate he didn’t want any charges to go on my phone.”

Something in Laura’s expression changed. “Sure,” she said. “Maybe. Did he have a cell phone?”

“Of course,” Lindsey said defensively.

“Did you ever see him use it?”

“Maybe a time or two when he first got here, but I’m not really sure. I don’t think it worked very well. One afternoon my landline wasn’t working for a while, and I’d left my cell in the car, so I used Emmett’s, but it didn’t work. It was completely dead. I guess it served me right, using his cell without asking permission.”

Laura scribbled a few words, then tapped her pen against her chin, thinking. “Let’s move on. Did he ever get any mail delivered here? He was here for a whole month.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied, slightly annoyed. “What are you getting at, Laura?”

Laura exhaled a frustrated breath. “Lindsey, do you remember when we‌—‌well, okay, mostly I‌—‌saw red flags waving all around Anthony? I’m sorry, but there are infinitely more flags flying over Emmett. Don’t you get that?”

Blood surged into Lindsey’s cheeks at her friend’s suggestion. Laura had just crossed the line, and she seemed to sense that, because she raised her hands defensively.

“Okay, okay. I’m leaving.” Laura grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Just before she stepped outside, she turned back. “Come on, Lindsey. Be smart. The man conned you out of $8,000, and now he has a ten day head start on anyone who tries to track him down.”

Lindsey slowly closed the front door, her pulse hammering in her head. How could her friend have even suggested that kind of thing? Emmett, she knew very well, was a perfect gentleman. He never could have masterminded an evil plot to hurt her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jake planned to devote the next twelve hours to his “Woman Alone” research. He was behind schedule and desperately needed some catch-up time. He gathered together all the materials he needed: subject files, related research files, notes to be transcribed, and his laptop, determined to work.

He stared at all five subject files, and he knew he was in trouble in more ways than one. Technically, the big issue was the fact that only three of the five were aware that they were his research subjects. The other two had no idea.

Subject A, Carla, was a never married, young mother of eight-year-old twins, a result of a brief college romance. She had responded to Jake’s ad in the campus newspaper. Subject B, Marjorie, was a forty-five-year-old widow Jake had met in the Whole Foods Market in the produce section when they’d struck up a conversation about foods and herbs with cancer preventing or fighting qualities. Her husband of twenty-four years had died of cancer two years earlier.

Jake had met Subject C, Shawna, in May of last year. She’d agreed to be one of his subjects and signed the permission form provided by the U of A. She loved the idea of being “written up” in a university student’s thesis‌—‌it was all about the attention for her. But the woman grew stranger every time they were together, and she wasn’t exactly a “Woman Alone” ever since Anthony had entered her life. In retrospect, Jake guessed she’d been having a relationship with Anthony right from the start, but he didn’t know for sure.

Fortunately, Subjects A and B fell into and remained in what he considered the “typical” category for women who conducted their lives without the partnership of a man. His intension had been to avoid any extremes in lifestyles or personalities, since his research would include only five women.

Jake glanced first at Subject D’s file, then to Subject E’s. Neither woman had any idea about the existence of the files or the specifics of his research.

Where to begin? he wondered, looking at Lindsey’s file. Visions of the birthday party took over his brain, and he tried desperately to push them away. Something nagged at him, and he knew it was Emmett. Something was amiss with that guy. Could Lindsey be in danger? His intuition kept yelling at him, warning him that Emmett was dangerous. Or was Jake just jealous?

He realized he couldn’t settle down until the nagging, unexplained negativity he felt for the man had either been uncovered or dismissed. He navigated every search engine he knew of and managed to find several entries for an Emmett Anton, journalist. It seemed a guy with that name had written two short articles for a hunting magazine three years before, but Jake couldn’t find the actual articles anywhere. Certainly, those articles would not sustain even a single guy for more than a few weeks, if that. Nothing else came up. It is as if he didn’t exist.

Out of curiosity, Jake googled his own name, and dozens of entries appeared.
If a nobody like me comes up,
he pondered,
why is there nothing more for this guy?
Emmett had been around longer than Jake had, and according to Lindsey, he was busy with a lot of writing, traveling, and relocating. Who
was
Emmett Anton?

“I’ve got to get to work,” he repeated out loud for the umpteenth time.

It was a relief when the phone rang.

“She called in sick!” the caller cried. “She never does that. I tried her landline and her cell phone. No answer on either.”

“Whoa. Slow down, Laura. What’s going on?”

Laura told him what had happened between Lindsey and Emmett on Saturday, gave him Lindsey’s answers to her questions about Emmett, then admitted the assumptions she’d made so far. Jake, grateful for the information but more worried than ever, agreed to pay Lindsey a visit. If she wasn’t at home, he would find her.

As Laura had said, Lindsey didn’t answer her phone, but Jake refused to give up that easily. He walked to the door‌—‌leading a limping Wendell and carrying Malcolm’s cage‌—‌and rang the bell. No answer. He peeked in the window and spotted her lying on the sofa, probably sleeping.

He rapped on the window. “Lindsey, it’s Jake. Let me in.”

No response.

Wendell’s pitiful cross between a howl and a moan got her attention. Rubbing her eyes, she rose and slumped toward the door. Jake tried not to show his surprise when he saw her. Her hair was a mess, her smudged make-up was obviously left over from a day or two before, and she was dressed in old sweats. And her expression was…‌immeasurably sad.

“Hey, girl. Can we come in?”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh, my God! What’s wrong with Wendell? Why is he limping? Why is he bandaged?”

Jake wanted to go inside, get her to settle on the couch and talk with him, but she wasn’t moving out of the doorway. “There was an accident,” he told her, “but he’s going to be all right…‌eventually. Can he stay with you for a while? He needs to be somewhere he will be loved and cared for. He doesn’t need exercise yet, just rest. He’s on a fairly heavy dose of Rimadyl for the pain, so he’ll be fine all day while you are at school.” He frowned, feigning innocence. “Hey, why aren’t you at school? Was it an early release day?”

Lindsey held out her hand, welcoming Wendell. “Of course he can stay here,” she said softly. “Come on in, boy.”

Malcolm tweeted as if to say, what about me? Jake handed the cage to Lindsey; their fingers touched briefly as she took hold of the handle. Then she shut the door, and Jake was left standing there, wondering what had just happened.

SPRING

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

With less than three months until summer vacation, Lindsey decided to create a desert play her students would perform for the student body as well as for their families and friends. By devoting all her waking hours to creating fun and effective lessons for her students, Lindsey not only met the high expectations she always had for herself as a teacher, she exceeded them. Her talents in the classroom were amazing. Her students, even the tough ones, made huge academic gains. In a twisted sense, the students benefited from her pain. Her personal life, other than her love for Malcolm and Wendell, was on hold. She kept any adult co-workers and friends at a distance, avoiding contact, even with Laura. She couldn’t face anyone that knew of her troubles with Anthony or Emmett, and that was everyone except for strangers or mere acquaintances.

***

“I can get it done, Dr. Barston,” Jake said. “I’ve completed all the research and most of the writing. I just want to revise the document; my original thesis statement needs modification. If I could have about forty-five more days, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”

The extension was granted, but that did little to alleviate Jake’s anxiety. He’d never experienced anxiety before, but he knew this was it. His heart was racing, his breathing was labored, and oh boy, did he feel like he was losing control. He had made so many critical mistakes. And now his ability to concentrate eluded him. He didn’t know if he could pull it all together, even with the new, extended deadline.

All he could think about lately was the issues beyond his project. First there was Anthony and Shawna. Where were they? He needed to find them and figure out what the hell was going on.

Then there was Emmett. Emmett the jerk, the scoundrel, the con man…‌the list was long. Jake wanted answers, both for himself and for Lindsey. If he could expose Emmett for the thief he was, maybe he could recover the money that had been stolen from Lindsey. That way she could move forward, get on with her life.

He took out two new files and labeled one
Anthony & Shawna,
and the other
Emmett
. Taking this small step lessened the anxiety symptoms somewhat. Now it was time to get some research done. He headed out in the direction of Anthony’s chiropractic office.

“Hi there. How can I help you?” asked the woman when she met Jake at the door. She regarded him with dreamy, flirtatious‌—‌and experienced eyes.

Her presence and demeanor threw Jake off for a moment. She was not what he’d been expecting. He doubted that she was what anyone would expect to find in a chiropractic office.

“Well…‌ma’am, I’m looking for Anthony. I need to speak with him.”

“Well…‌sir,” she began, giving Jake a taste of his own choice of words, “you’ve come to the right place, just at the wrong time. He’s unavailable, but you can make a payment on your account, or I can schedule an appointment for you after the 15
^th
.”

“That’s almost two weeks away. I can’t wait that long.”

She gave him a cheery smile. “Well, you have some options. Dr. Warren is taking Dr. Sommerfield’s emergencies. Anthony‌—‌I mean
Dr. Sommerfield
, may be back in town as early as the 5
^th
, but he won’t be in the office. At least that’s what Shaw‌—‌that’s what I…” Her smile was apologetic now. “That’s all I can tell you. Do you want Dr. Warren’s number?”

Jake shook his head, frustrated. “I’m sorry. I’m not here for an appointment, just a phone number where Anthony can be reached. Come on. I’m a family friend,” he lied. “Or…‌here. Here’s my number. You can call him and ask him to call me. Okay?”

“I couldn’t call him if I wanted to. It’s complicated. Sorry.” She winked suggestively. “But thanks for your number.” She tucked the small paper deep in her cavernous cleavage and resumed flirting. “We’ll all be back in The Office on the 15
^th
,” she purred.

***

“Venice,” Anthony sighed, leaning back in their private gondola. The temperature was chilly, but that hardly mattered. They were in Venice! “I can’t believe I’m really here. This trip must have cost a fortune. How in the world did you pull it off?”

Shawna watched him, pleased with his reaction. She rarely agreed to daytime excursions, but today was an exception because the weather allowed‌—‌no,
demanded
that she wear her full-length fur coat, leather gloves, and her trademark sunglasses. A newly purchased Roberta di Camerino red velvet handbag added to her overall look of wealth, and she caught the eye of many. Anthony had no objections to her extravagant outfit. She knew that he loved the fact that he accompanied the most beautiful woman on the canal, and everyone took notice.

“My darling, don’t worry about the cost,” she replied. “And before you get all sensible on me, no, I didn’t charge any part of the trip. I didn’t sell the house or anything crazy like that. I did use some of my nest egg, but you are worth it, darling.
We
are worth it. I want you to be happy. Even more, I want us to be happy together,” she explained. “Besides, you love everything Italian, and they say Venice is one of Europe’s most romantic cities,” she said, running her tongue over her glossy red, pouting lips.