The Perfect Couple (3 page)

"Where is he? At work?"

She stripped off her shirt and threw it away from her as if she couldn't bear the feel of it, and didn't answer.

Surprised that her neighbor would stand outside in her bra, which was skimpier than most and definitely too small, Samantha tried again. "What's his number?"

"His...what? I can't...I can't remember it right now." Suddenly, she doubled over, struggling to catch her breath and vomited on the grass.

What was going on? Samantha had no idea, but it was obviously serious. She had to get Colin. He'd know what to do. "Is your husband listed in the directory of your cell phone?"

"Yes, that's it." She was breathing hard, but she wiped her mouth and tilted her head back as if she was done being sick for the moment. "My cell."

"Okay. Stay right where you are." Sam ran toward the gate that would let her in the front yard but stopped when Tiffany started crying.

"I'm sorry," she moaned to no one in particular. "I'm so sorry."

The torment in Tiffany's wail drew her back to the fence. "For what?

17

Tiffany, it'll be okay."

Falling silent, Tiffany rocked into a sitting position. "Yes, it'll be okay. It wasn't my fault. He won't blame me."

"What're you talking about?"

With a sniff, Tiffany wiped her eyes, spreading mascara even farther.

"Nothing. I'm not feeling well. Not...thinking straight."

"Don't worry, I'm on my way," Sam said and hurried over to do what she could to help.

18

Zoe frowned as she hung up the phone. She'd been trying to reach her daughter for the past two hours, but she couldn't get Sammie to pick up. Was it because she couldn't hear the phone? Maybe she'd fallen asleep with the radio on--

"Excuse me?"

Jan Buppa, the office manager, stood over her desk. Preoccupied with worry, Zoe hadn't heard even a rustle or a footstep, which wasn't surprising since she sat out in the open with the other clerical support staff and had learned to ignore most of the noise and movement so she could get her work done.

Generally, ignoring the chaos was a good thing--but it was always better to see Jan coming.

"I hate to interrupt a daydream that looks as absorbing as that one,"

her boss said, "but you do plan to finish those leases before you go home, don't you?" She waved toward the stack of folders Zoe had been working on since she came in. It was enough to keep her busy for three days, but Jan expected her to finish before five.

Zoe remembered Anton telling her how lucky she was that he'd been able to get her on at Tate Commercial and forced a smile. The owner was one of his tax clients. She had to be careful so her behavior never reflected poorly on him. "Of course. You promised the agents they'd have these by tomorrow morning, and they will."

"Glad to hear it. Just wanted to be sure you hadn't forgotten that we're under a deadline."

Zoe gritted her teeth as Jan turned on her heel and marched to her own desk, wishing once again that she didn't need this job quite so badly. If she stayed to finish the leases, she'd get home even later than usual. She hated that Sammie was on her own so much as it was.

She imagined telling Jan to go to hell. That distracted her for a few seconds but, as usual, the temptation was soon countered by Anton's voice in her mind: Jan's just mad that you got the position instead of her daughter-in-law. Anyway, the first year might be tough, but you have to do something while you get your license. Where else will you be able to learn more about the kind of real estate you hope to be involved in someday? Being successful requires sacrifice.

19

He said that as if he had a corner on sacrifice. It annoyed her that he could be so patronizing when he'd always had a nice place to live, a hot meal. But, in some ways, he was right. If she meant to significantly improve her situation, she had to make concessions. Except for Jan, she would've been happy working at Tate Commercial. It was a great opportunity, the perfect start to her career. Zoe wanted to make good, to prove to herself more than anyone that she could be everything her father was not. But she was so worried about Samantha....

Despite Jan's lingering gaze, she called her fiance.

"Hello?"

"Anton? Have you spoken with Sammie today?"

"I checked in at noon. Why?"

"I can't get her to answer the phone."

"She's sleeping. I woke her when I called."

Zoe glanced at the clock on the wall. Noon was three hours ago.

"She's got mono, Anton."

"Which is why she's napping. It's not unusual."

The tone of his voice told her he thought she was overreacting. Maybe that was true, but Zoe didn't want to take any chances. "What time will you be home tonight?"

"Six or seven."

"Why so late? Tax season's over."

"And now I'm taking care of all the clients who filed extensions."

"Come on, can't you spare twenty minutes to drop by the house and let me know she's okay?"

"You want me to drive over there?"

Zoe had been battling a headache all day. Absently, she rubbed her left temple in an effort to ease the pounding. "Yes."

"That's ridiculous. What could possibly have happened to her?"

"I don't know. That's why I want you to check. Maybe...maybe she decided to go swimming and hit her head."

"She's not allowed in the pool. The water's too cold, anyway."

Sunlight, coming from the closest floor-to-ceiling window, spilled across her desk. "The weather's been unseasonably warm the past few weeks."

"Not warm enough for swimming. And she's thirteen years old. She knows better than to get in the pool alone."

"Anton, I'd do it myself if I could, but I'm stuck here until--" she bowed her head so Jan couldn't see that she was getting upset "--who knows what time it'll be when I finish."

20

This statement was met with a lengthy pause. Finally, he blew out a sigh. "Okay. I'll go over there. But I'll only call you if something's wrong.

Just last week they told you to reserve personal calls for your lunch break."

She didn't care half as much about her job, or even Anton's reputation, as she did Sammie. "Call me in any case. As long as I finish the work on my desk before I go home, I should be okay."

"Fine. I'll talk to you in ten minutes."

After he'd severed the connection, Zoe dragged her attention back to her computer, where she'd been inserting special clauses in a seven-year lease for some retail space in the South Natomas area. She finished that document and sent it to the printer, then started on another, but Anton didn't call. Had he gotten busy and forgotten he'd promised to check on Sam?

The clock indicated that it'd been twenty-five minutes since they'd hung up.

He'll get to it, she told herself, and decided to wait ten more minutes.

If she hadn't heard from him by then, she'd call him again whether it risked an argument or not.

The seconds ticked by. Slow. Ponderous. Filled with anxiety.

Eight minutes later, her cell vibrated and she snatched it off her desk.

Caller ID showed the house number. There you are.

"Anton, is she okay?"

A strained silence followed.

"Anton?"

"I can't find her," he said.

Zoe might've thought he was teasing her for worrying, but he was far too serious for that. His words hit her like a punch to the gut, so hard it was several seconds before she could speak. "What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I've looked everywhere. The back door is unlocked, and there's a book by the pool, but she's gone."

Zoe's heartbeat grew so loud it drowned out the clack, clack, clack of typing from the desks of the other administrative staff, the conversation of two agents standing at the edge of the bullpen near the copier, the hum of the printer. "Did she leave a note?"

"Not that I can see."

"But...that doesn't make sense. Where would she go? She knows she's not supposed to leave the house. The doctor said she's probably still contagious."

"I'm guessing she walked down to the Quick Stop for a candy bar. I'm heading over there right now."

21

"You checked the pool?"

"I checked the pool."

Thank God her daughter wasn't floating in the water. "Did you notice any sign of a struggle?"

"None. Don't even let your mind go there, Zoe. You know we live in a safe neighborhood."

Rocklin was one of the most desirable suburbs in the Sacramento metropolitan area, and the crime rate was among the lowest in California. It was a completely different experience from the seedy L.A. trailer park she'd grown up in. Maybe kidnapping, theft and murder happened regularly in her old neighborhood, but not here.

"It's possible one of her friends came by on the way home from school," Anton was saying. "There's no reason to jump to conclusions yet."

"I'll call Marti's parents."

"Don't do it from work."

"For something like this? Why not?"

"I'll take care of it. If you're not careful, you'll lose your job. Then how will you feel when you learn this was just some typical teenage stunt?"

Samantha didn't pull stunts like this. But Zoe knew as soon as she launched that argument, Anton would bring up the time Sam had said she was going to band recital but went to a boy's house with her best friend instead. Teenagers are teenagers, Zoe. You have a lot more of this kind of stuff to look forward to, he'd said then.

Was she being too protective? "I wouldn't be so worried if she was well. But she's not supposed to exert herself."

It was a reasonable argument, one Anton would understand. But Zoe knew she'd be worried regardless. She'd had some pretty terrible experiences in her day, experiences she'd been working to protect Sam against. The rape that had resulted in her becoming pregnant at fifteen was one of them. Just imagining her daughter in the hands of a man like the one who'd forced her onto the floor of her own father's trailer made her body go clammy with sweat. Had someone spotted Sam when she sneaked out to the store, thought she was pretty, followed her home?

Zoe didn't realize she had her eyes shut until she heard Jan's voice again. "What's it going to take to keep you working today, Ms. Duncan?"

"I--" Swallowing hard, she looked up. "I'm having some personal problems."

"We don't have time for personal problems."

"I'm afraid this can't be helped. I know these...leases are important."

How? Why? They were nothing compared to what Zoe feared, but she didn't 22

want to overreact. Maybe Anton was right and Sam was merely acting out.

"But could I...could I go home for an hour or so and come back tonight to finish up?"

"You want to leave in the middle of the afternoon, when you have a stack of work on your desk two feet high?"

"Yes." Desperately. Sam was all she could think about.

Jan shook her head. "Women like you are all alike."

"Women like me?" Zoe echoed.

"You come to the interview batting your eyelashes and showing that curvy figure off to best advantage in some short skirt--" she wiggled her flat-as-a-pancake behind as if imitating the way Zoe walked "--and then once you're hired you want to spend all your time on the phone or painting your fingernails."

"Meanwhile, more deserving but less attractive options languish at home, is that it, Jan? Options like your obese daughter-in-law?"

Zoe wasn't sure who was more surprised--Jan or the secretaries sitting close by. All three stopped typing, and their mouths formed perfect Os.

Jan's face went red and her eyes bulged. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Zoe snapped. "And for your information, I didn't bat my eyelashes or interview in a short skirt. And I've never painted my nails at work."

"Neither have you done the job you were hired for!"

"That's not true! If it was, you would've fired me long ago. You've been looking for any excuse since the day I started," she said. Then she got her purse out of her desk, slammed the drawer and headed for the exit.

"Don't you walk out of here," Jan called after her. "If you do, you won't be allowed back."

Zoe turned at the door. "I won't be coming back."

She tried to appear calm and in control as she presented her back to the sprinkling of agents in the bullpen and the secretaries in the reception area. But inside she was quaking. Quitting her job would cause a major argument between her and Anton. If they broke up, she and Samantha would have to move out. Zoe couldn't afford a place in this area, not on her own, especially now that she was out of a job. That meant Samantha would have to transfer to a different school, and the cycle would start all over--the same cycle Zoe had been trying to break. She'd just climbed a little higher on the ladder of success before falling on her ass again.

"Why did I let that bitch get the best of me?" she asked herself over and over as she stalked to her car. It kept her from focusing on the real problem, the fact that she still hadn't heard from Anton. Why hadn't he 23

called?

She tried him four times in as many minutes, but kept getting the beep that told her he was on another line.

Who was he talking to?

He probably had Sam with him but was caught up on a business call.

Otherwise, he would've switched over.

But when she got home, she discovered that wasn't the case at all. She found her fiance sitting on the front steps, his head bowed. As she drew closer, she could tell he was deep in conversation.

He was talking to someone at the police department, making a report.

Her hand went to her throat. "God, no!"

Concern etched deep grooves in his forehead as he looked up and covered the mouthpiece. "I can't find her, Zoe," he said. "She isn't anywhere."

Zoe fell to her knees on the rough cobblestone walk.

"But I'm getting help." His eyes pleaded with her to understand how badly he felt about taking the situation too lightly. "That's why I haven't tried to reach you. I wanted to...to have something positive to tell you. I wanted to get a detective on this as soon as possible."