“Can’t we just come to visit? Why do we have to go through the charade of finding the pills? And why do we have to eat this stuff?”
“Because Mr. Mason has pride. He doesn’t want to beg us to spend time with him, and he doesn’t want to send us away empty-handed.”
Luke poked at the runny Jell-O. “This doesn’t look safe to eat.”
“Cheer up; it has too many chemical preservatives to ever go bad. I would be more concerned about the massive amount of food coloring. Did you ever wonder what color our insides are after eating this?”
“I will now,” he said.
They carried their Jell-O outside and ate on the porch. After about an hour, Mr. Mason began to list. They thanked him for the Jell-O and left. When they arrived home, Hal was waiting on the front porch.
Sadie erupted from the car with too much enthusiasm, and Luke had to tamp down his jealousy. They were just friends; they had both told him repeatedly. And even if they weren’t, why should he care? He had a girlfriend. Hal and Sadie were single. If they wanted to date, then so be it.
“Hal, how did you get the night off?” Sadie asked. “I thought you were pulling an all-nighter at the hospital.”
“I took out an appendix and left my watch in the guy. It’s what I do whenever I want a night off. Or I traded with someone. One of those things is true.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Sadie hugged his neck. “I’m going to cook something really special. I got paid today, so I might actually put meat in the meatloaf.”
“Aw, Sadie, don’t cook for me, sweets. Especially not mashed potatoes and those glazed carrots I love.” He hugged her waist.
“You’ve got it,” Sadie said.
Luke looked away. Hal had been his best friend since his freshman year of college. Why now did he want to kick him in the ribs?
“Is Vaslilssa still away?” Hal asked.
“She’s in Russia for a couple more days,” Luke said.
“Then you’re free to hang with us tonight. The three musketeers together again. Excellent.”
“Abby’s here,” Luke said.
“The fearsome foursome is what I meant to say,” Hal amended as Abby pulled up. “Abby, I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage. Don’t say no again and break my heart.”
“Hal, you couldn’t possibly afford me,” Abby said. “When I decide to take a trophy husband, he’s going to come with a dowry.”
“Wait, I need to write this down,” Sadie said. “Speak slower when you’re spouting life lessons, Abby.”
“Why don’t you kids come inside?” Abby suggested. “It’s starting to look like Woodstock out here, and you know how I feel about hippies. Pick your lip up, Lucas; it’s dragging the floor.” She put her arm around him and ushered him inside. Hal and Sadie trooped behind. They went to the kitchen where Sadie began preparing supper. None of them offered to help, but she would let them know what she wanted them to do if the time came.
“Now, tell me about this new client,” Abby commanded.
Hal leaned forward in his chair. “Wait, did you say client? You guys have a client? Excellent!”
“Is the proper response when one learns that we have a client,” Sadie said. “Take note, Luke.” She tossed him a carrot and, like a trained dog, he ate it. He loved carrots, and Sadie knew. “Listen, my friends, to the harrowing tale of Captain Ben White.”
“At no point did he ever say he was a captain,” Luke said. Sadie stuffed another carrot in his mouth. She repeated the story Ben had told her, with plenty of Sadie-esque embellishments. Only Sadie would think that a tale about possible murder wasn’t spicy enough. By the end, Hal and Abby were spellbound and bubbling with enthusiasm.
“I can’t believe I am friends with a private investigator who is taking on a murder case. That is so going to be my Facebook status tonight. Take that, every popular kid I went to high school with,” Hal said.
“He really gave us five thousand dollars?” Abby said. “Did you take a picture?”
“No, but I saved the bank deposit slip for you.” She pulled a wad of paper from her pocket and tossed it in front of Abby.
Luke raised his hand to get their attention. “Um, hello, why must I be the proverbial voice of reason? Does it occur to anyone else in this room that the guy is insane and you should have nothing to do with him?”
The mood of the room turned sullen. “And that, my friends, is how a damper works,” Sadie said.
“Stop saying ‘my friends.’ You sound like a politician. And I don’t think trying to keep us all alive and well is being a damper.”
“So how are you going to solve it?” Hal asked.
“We’re going to leave no stone unturned. We’re going to poke holes in every theory. We’re going to sniff out every suspect,” Sadie said.
“You have no idea where to begin, huh?” Hal guessed.
“None whatsoever, but we’ll figure it out. I’m going to sleep on it. Nighttime is when I get my best ideas,” she said.
Luke clamped down hard on his opinion. He had given his objections, but he had also promised to be supportive. Nothing was going to change Sadie’s mind. Adding commentary at this point would be the equivalent of pounding a drum with a feather.
As she did everything else, Sadie cooked with quickness and efficiency. The made-from-scratch meal was ready in a little less than an hour, complete with biscuits. The scene was comforting and domestic to Luke, much like a page from his childhood. Of the four of them, he was the only one with a positive family situation. Sadie had Gideon and all the baggage from her parents’ horrible marriage. Abby’s family was gone, and Hal’s family was estranged. The fact that he wasn’t a misfit like the others made him feel strangely left out.
“Luke’s wearing his serious face,” Hal observed. “What do you suppose he’s thinking?”
Sadie stood and hugged Luke from behind. “He’s sad because he thinks I didn’t make dessert. But I did.” She let him go, opened the freezer, and pulled out a log of cookie dough. “Ta-da!”
He wasn’t five and his affections couldn’t be swayed by food. Or so he thought until the scent of cookie dough began to fill the kitchen. “Thanks for supper, Sade. Why don’t you sit and take a load off while I clean up?” He tugged her to his chair and pushed her to a sitting position.
“Trying to figure out how to remain seated without looking like a freeloading mooch,” Hal said. He screwed up his face and pressed his fingers to his temples as if he were concentrating. “No, can’t come up with anything. I can’t wait until I’m a real doctor who can fake emergency surgery to get out of moments like these.” He stood and began rolling his sleeves.
“Seeing two young men in the kitchen does my old heart good,” Abby said. “It reminds me of when I was a girl and we had a male cook and butler. Those were good times. Why are you laughing, Hal?”
“I thought you were going to make a profound statement about women’s rights and equality. Instead you’re recalling the halcyon days when you had household staff. You kill me, Abby.”
“Those were halcyon days,” Abby said. “I never touched a sink of dishwater until I was in my thirties. In my day, we didn’t have this ridiculous notion of chores. That’s what servants were for. Well, enough nostalgia. I’m going to go watch some television.”
“Does anyone get the sense that she secretly thinks we’re her household staff?” Hal asked.
The timer on the cookies dinged. Sadie pulled them from the oven and fanned them to speed the cooling process. By the time Hal and Luke finished the dishes, she had removed them to a serving plate. She carried them to the den—the only room besides the kitchen where Abby allowed food—and they claimed what had become their usual spots while they ate. Abby was in a wing chair, her feet propped on an ottoman. Hal took the recliner and pushed it back as far as it would go. Sadie and Luke settled on the couch.
Abby and Hal began to doze. Luke retrieved reading material from the never-ending pile on his desk. When he returned, Sadie lay down and rested her head in his lap. She was like a cat, constantly seeking warmth and affection, somehow without coming across as needy. Absently, his hand rested on her head and began to toy with the sausage-like ringlets of hair. She hadn’t straightened her hair since she moved in. He liked it better curly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hal shift. A quick glance showed Hal watching him, smiling, and Luke was embarrassed. By nature, he wasn’t affectionate or demonstrative. Except with Sadie. But they had known each other forever and been attached at the hip for much of that time. So much time spent together had made them comfortable with each other. She felt like an extension of him, a beautiful, shapely extension. Of course Hal found it amusing because he had never seen this side of Luke before, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just the way things were with Sadie. Sadie was affectionate with everyone. Everyone but Gideon, he amended. She had always been that kid who would climb uninvited into an open lap and ask for a story. She was still a hugger, a hand-holder, a cuddler, a lap-seeker. Not that she ever sat in his lap, but she did often use it as a pillow for her head. And it didn’t mean anything. They hadn’t kissed since that one time a few weeks ago before she moved in. And they wouldn’t again. Things weren’t like that between them; they both agreed they were better off as friends with none of the other stuff between.
Hal would say he was playing with fire, and maybe he was. But how was he supposed to tell Sadie to not be Sadie? Not that she would listen anyway. She had been good about keeping some distance between them, about not pushing the line. She didn’t flirt with him like she did almost every other man on the planet, and that was a good thing. So what if her presence, scent, and touch drove him to the brink of insanity? It was his problem, not hers. Trying to tell her not to look cute, smell good, or touch him would be like trying to tell a fish not to swim. Sadie was what she was, and he would have to work around it, and if Hal didn’t like it, then he could stop hanging around so much.
He directed a scowl at Hal only to find him sound asleep. The mental argument had been just that—mental. Perhaps he was a tad touchy where Sadie was concerned. He glanced down and found that his fingers were still tangled in her hair. He removed them, and she woke up.
“Missing persons,” she said, sitting up with a start.
“What?”
“Missing persons. That’s where I need to start. If Ben killed someone, it would have to be someone local because he woke up in his own bed. And they would have to be missing by now. The best place to start is with missing persons. I’ll check in the morning. Put your hand back, I’m cold.” She shoved his book aside and draped herself on his lap. Tentatively, he rested his hand on her shoulder. She cinched it closer, using his arm as a blanket. To his left, he could swear he heard Hal laughing, but when he turned to look, Hal appeared fast asleep.
The police station always smelled the same, and it always reminded Sadie of her childhood. Her mother used to take her to visit her dad sometimes. Sadie wished the memories were pleasant. They could have been. Her mother, Victoria, had dressed Sadie in her finest, braided her hair, loaded her into the car, and driven to the police station as if it were a grand event. She had paraded her through the maze of desks, stopping to say hello to officers and clerks before landing in her father’s office. Once there, the gloves had come off, and it had been another place for battle. Sadie would sit on the couch in her father’s office, her hands pressed over her ears as her parents fought in vicious whispers.
That was why the station’s smell of sweat, musty papers, and metal made Sadie’s insides twist with anxiety. She smiled and waved at a few familiar faces. Most of the officers who had been under her father’s command were now retired. A few remained, but she hadn’t known them as well as the old guard. There was one person, though, who was still present and whom Sadie liked very much.
Mary Turnbull was the records clerk. She was a plump, sweet, scatterbrained woman who would always hold a special place in Sadie’s heart for one reason: she was the only person who had ever intervened and stood up for Sadie. Oddly, she was also the only real friend her mother ever had, at least for a time. Mary had been younger than her mother, a mere twenty five when she started working at the police station. She had started as Gideon’s secretary, and she was the first one he didn’t complain about. Intrigued and a little bit jealous, Victoria had descended on Mary like a horde of locusts, only to find that her “competition” was a plain and quiet woman, barely out of college. Curiously, Victoria had taken the hapless Mary under her wing, teaching her how to do her hair, apply makeup, and dress for her ample figure. Mary had soaked up the knowledge and the friendship like a sponge. She had been fascinated by Victoria’s cool beauty, and her fascination fed Victoria’s needy ego. They seemed like the perfect pair—a queen and her servant—until Mary happened to be there during one of Victoria and Gideon’s more epic battles.
Sadie would never forget how quiet, sweet, and mousy Mary had stepped between her screaming parents, putting her hands out like a traffic cop as she commanded them to stop. “You shouldn’t be doing this in front of Sadie,” she had said. “Look at her, look at her face. This is terrible. Sadie and I are going to go get some ice cream. I hope you can pull yourselves together and put this to rest before we get back.” Then she had loaded Sadie into her car and immediately changed the subject to Sadie’s favorite television program. For that night, the ever-present knot in Sadie’s stomach had eased. She had laughed. She had found hope that things might be different. Surely if a grown up pointed out how horrible everything was then it would change. But it hadn’t. Gideon and Victoria had a never-ending supply of hate for each other, and Mary never came over again.
“Sadie!” Mary exclaimed when she looked up and saw her looming in the doorway. She dropped the file she was holding, came around her desk, and opened the half door that separated them. “Look at you, all grown up.” She smothered Sadie in a comforting hug.
“Hi, Mary,” Sadie said. “You look beautiful.”
Mary let her go with a chuckle. “Liar.”
“I’m serious,” Sadie said, and she was. Mary was one of those people so pure that her inner beauty made up for any lack on the outside. Not that she was the Elephant Man—she had a pretty face and nice features. But her body was an unfortunate pear shape. Her hips remained large even when she lost weight, as she frequently did. Now she was at the lowest weight Sadie had ever seen her. Her hair, makeup, and clothes were stylish. Some women aged better than others, and the aging process agreed with Mary. If not for the extra baggage on her hips, she would look practically perfect. Sadie didn’t care about her hippy exterior, however. She liked Mary no matter what her size or shape.
“Oh, you,” Mary said, clearly disbelieving the compliment. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”
“I need a background check on this person.” She handed her a piece of paper with Ben White’s pertinent information. Mary squinted at it and glanced around the room.
“Where are my glasses? I can’t see a thing.”
“They’re on your head,” Sadie pointed out.
Mary felt on top of her head and rolled her eyes as she pulled her glasses onto her nose. “Are you dating this man? Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s smart to check men out before you get serious. You can’t be too careful these days.”
“No, nothing like that. He’s a client.” The word felt odd on Sadie’s tongue, but it also brought a strange sense of pride. She had always enjoyed working. The lack the past few weeks had left her feeling vaguely despondent.
“I see,” Mary said. Sadie wondered if she really did. “I heard about your new business. I keep up on you Coopers. How’s Gideon? Still miserable?”
“If he has a mood other than miserable, I’ve yet to see it.”
Mary laughed. “Believe it or not, he was at his best when he was here and working on a case.”
“I believe it,” Sadie said. Like her, her father liked to work. It was no big secret that he loathed retirement. Why he chose to retire so soon was anyone’s guess.
“You know why he retired as soon as he was eligible?” Mary asked as if she had been reading Sadie’s mind.
“I have no idea.”
“Because of you. He wanted to spend more time with you. He had this whole road trip to Nebraska planned. I think he would have considered moving there if you had stayed.”
Sadie bent over laughing.
“I’m serious,” Mary said when she could get in a word over Sadie’s guffaws. “He talked to me about it at lunch one day. He might not know how to express it, but he feels bad about the way things are between you, Sadie.”
Sadie stood upright and wiped her eyes. “You and Gideon had lunch?”
Mary turned to her computer, busying herself with work. “We lunched together a lot when he was working. We were friends.”
Her father had fishing buddies and poker buddies, but he had never mentioned Mary as a friend. “Friends? With Gideon?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” Mary asked. “We worked together for fifteen years.”
“But Gideon is so…”
“I know what Gideon is,” Mary said. “Believe me.”
She was blushing, Mary was blushing. “Mary, you like Gideon.”
The blush intensified. “Keep it down, Sadie, or the whole office will start to gossip. And I do not like Gideon. Anyone past the age of forty is not allowed to have schoolgirl crushes; it’s the law. Gideon and I were work friends. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since he retired.”
Female translation: Gideon hadn’t made contact in three years and Mary’s feelings were terribly hurt. “If it counts for anything at all, Mary, you have my vote. Why Dad didn’t seize on you and make a move is beyond me.”
Mary picked up a pamphlet and fanned herself. “Gracious, Sadie. It wasn’t like that. And your dad wouldn’t be interested in me anyway. Have you seen him? He’s a very handsome man.”
“You’re beautiful. And ew, I don’t like to think of my dad in those terms.”
“I’m just saying that if your dad is ever interested in someone again, it will be someone like your mom; now she was a beauty.”
“And we all saw how well that worked out. Look, I’m not often in the position to stand up for Gideon, but I think his reluctance to date has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you. Let’s just say he has plenty of reason to be gun shy.”
“I know that,” Mary said. The warmth and sympathy in her tone were heartrending. Impossible as it was for Sadie to imagine, Mary really did seem to care about her dad. She shook her head. Someone had a thing for her dad; the new information was too much to take in.
“I also need information on any missing persons’ reports from this year, the unresolved ones, I mean.” Lots of people were reported missing without ever making the news. Usually because they had simply run away and come back.
“Off the top of my head I can think of three that are still open, but I’ll double check on that. It’s going to take some time to find them and make copies.”
Sadie did some lightning-quick plotting. “I have a super busy schedule today. Would it be an imposition to drop them by my house? I live next door to Dad now.” She watched the wheels in Mary’s head turn as she caught up to her scheming.
“I suppose I could do that,” she said. “What time?”
“Any time after six should work.” Gideon mysteriously disappeared during the day sometimes, but he was always home by six to watch the evening news.
“Sounds good,” Mary said with a smile.
Sadie turned to go, but Mary had a final word. “Sadie,” she called. Sadie paused and turned back. “You’re just like your dad, you know that? You two—always thinking and plotting something.”
What was a compliment to Mary wasn’t one to Sadie, so she smiled and nodded without reply. With the ball officially rolling on her investigation, she pulled out her phone and dialed Ben White. She hoped he would be available to meet and offer up more information. After she had a chance to think about things, she realized how little information she had to go on. He suggested she come to his house. Luke’s ominous warning about predatory men popped into her head, and she suggested they meet somewhere for coffee instead.
“Coffee sounds perfect,” he agreed. “I could use a pick me up. I stopped taking the medicine and I’ve had insomnia again. Do you have a place in mind?”
She gave him the location of her favorite coffee shop and dialed Abby to see if she wanted to join the meeting. “I’m serving meals at the senior center today,” Abby said. “But I can be there if you need me.”
“No, I’ll fill you in,” Sadie said. In truth, she preferred for Abby to pick and choose the portions of the business she wanted to be involved with. An octogenarian should be able to work whenever she wanted, and Sadie was happy to do more than her fair share of the footwork.
Ben was waiting on her when she arrived at the coffee shop. She congratulated herself on being more professional today, at least in dress. She had wanted to beat him to the shop, but she should have known he was the type to get there first. Technical writers, engineers, and soldiers were all known for being precise, and he was all three.
He stood as she approached the table, sitting again only after she sat. He was handsome in a debonair kind of way. Today, like before, he wore a sport coat and khaki pants which made the meeting feel formal, but his demeanor was melancholy, borderline anxious. She could picture him as a brooding literature professor, one for whom the coeds would form a line. He was thirty four—younger than she first thought.
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice,” she said.
“I’m happy to. You have no idea how anxious I am to figure out what’s going on, although I have to admit that I feel a little sheepish about seeking help. I’ve been trying to figure things out on my own, but I keep hitting dead ends. No, scratch that, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Let’s start with some facts, if you don’t mind.” She pulled a pad of paper and a pen from her purse. “When did the dreams begin?”
“Not too long after I started taking the medicine. That was last October. I think the dreams started sometime after Thanksgiving. They were mild at first, typical nightmares. I remembered them, but it wasn’t anything that left me disturbed. They began to accelerate around Christmas. I chalked that up to stress. I don’t have what you would consider to be a happy family. I had some visits with my mom that ended in our usual warfare, and that’s when the dreams really started to amp up in intensity. They continued at that level for a while—disturbing, but not haunting. And then I guess it was sometime in the spring when I began to wonder what I was doing in my sleep.”
“Did you ever try to get help, to figure out what was going on?”
“Of course,” he said. On the table, his hand wadded the napkin and let it go, over and over. “I recorded myself sleeping night after night, but nothing happened. I went to a sleep clinic, and it was the same thing. My REM cycles were perfect. I didn’t even flail. After that I felt better, and I tried to let it go. Then there was the incident with the…” he leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper even though they were the only people in the shop. “The blood.”
“Do you remember what date that was?”
“June thirteenth.”