Emma beckoned them into her office, then excused herself to knock on and open Billie
’
s office door.
The younger woman looked like a child being summoned to the principal
’
s office. Emma took a grim satisfaction in it.
“
Something you should sit in on,
”
she said.
“
Ask questions if you have them. Follow my lead.
”
She waited a beat.
“
And don
’
t faint.
”
Billie
’
s skin and features seemed wired to her central emotional core as if there were nothing in between. She wore a gauge on her face as easily viewed as her straight nose. Now, it registered clumsy, forgiven-puppy delight. She wasn
’
t being punished for the mess she
’
d made and she seemed to want to run in circles, wagging her tail. And then as Emma
’
s final phrase made it through the relief zone, her face-ometer changed, and registered anxiety.
Billie grabbed a notepad off her desk and followed Emma into the larger office. Despite her normally transparent emotions, when Billie saw Sophia Redmond there was a sliver of a second
—
imperceptible to anyone not waiting and watching for it
—
less than an eye-blink of recognition, confusion, and fear, and then it was gone, so quickly it hadn
’
t happened, replaced by a blandly professional mask. She must have been a good actress, Emma thought as Billie nodded to the couple with no sign of recognition and took a discreetly placed seat to the side and slightly behind Sophia. Not obtrusive, but not out of the loop.
“
This is my
”—
Emma tossed her a cheap thrill
—“
associate, Billie August. I want her involved in this.
”
“
Does that mean we have to pay double?
”
the man asked.
“
You
’
re hiring our firm,
”
Emma said.
“
All our resources are available to you. You
’
re billed as we use them, and we
’
ll surely consult you on that.
”
All our resources, she thought, and they
’
re right here in this room. One rapidly aging and short-tempered woman and her idiot hire, and a computer, the only resource that functions properly.
“
And you are
…”
“
Arthur Redmond.
”
“
And Sophia Redmond,
”
the woman added in a rush.
The man sighed before he spoke. He had a thin, thirties-style moustache that echoed the pout of his mouth.
“
We
’
re here because our daughter
—”
“
She
’
s my daughter, actually. She
’
s from my first marriage, although Arthur here has been as good as any natural father would be to her, and she was seized by a cult. Brainwashed. She has to be saved.
”
“
Ran away,
”
Arthur said.
“
I was there,
”
Sophia said.
“
I know what I saw.
”
“
If your daughter was kidnapped, no matter her age, the police should be informed. Kidnapping is a crime,
”
Emma said.
“
A federal offense. And it
’
s best if it gets immediate attention. When did this happen? Do you have the ransom note? Was there forced entry? Abduction? Did you see something?
”
“
I saw enough,
”
Sophia said.
“
But not those things, is that it?
”
“
There
’
s no note,
”
Sophia whispered.
“
No forced entry.
”
“
When did this happen?
”
“
Three days ago. In broad daylight. Well, it was a dark day, rainy, but it was in the afternoon.
”
“
And you waited till now because
…
?
”
Sophia Redmond twisted a button on the cuff of her blazer.
“
We weren
’
t sure what was happening. Or that she was really gone. I mean she could have
…
I mean
…”
“
What are we hemming and hawing about? Do you find people or not?
”
Arthur Redmond asked.
“
My husband
’
s busy.
”
Sophia was seemingly talking to her own lap.
“
He had to take the day off
…
. I would have come alone except I can
’
t do much of anything because I have this weakness and back pain and these terrible dizzy spells from a fall that hurt my head and ripped muscles and my equilibrium
—
my head
’
s all
—”
“
The detectives don
’
t want to know that,
”
Arthur said.
“
Get on with what you have to say.
”
Emma considered his attitude. His natural arrogance seemed intensified by his wife
’
s being wheelchair bound. But given that her condition was a fraud, he didn
’
t seem her partner or cohort in it. He seemed to believe she was actually, and annoyingly, disabled. This was interesting. Who was Sophia Redmond scamming?
Sophia pressed her hand against her temple, as if locating a headache.
“
Maybe kidnapping isn
’
t the exactly right word. Maybe there
’
s no word that fits the situation exactly. She
’
s under the influence of an unstable man. Preys on the young. He
’
s part of a group of weird people, a cult. She
’
s lost the ability to think for herself.
”
“
You know the young man
’
s name, or the name of the group or their whereabouts? Or what the cult is?
”
“
If we knew those things, would we need you?
”
Arthur asked.
“
Not even the name of the man?
”
“
We never saw him. She never met him at our house, the way a proper date would do. Always somewhere else. She didn
’
t talk about him directly, either, but she mentioned his friends, this group that believes they can travel back into the past. They live together, too. Bunches of them.
”
Sophia straightened in her wheelchair.
“
Does that sound sane to you? They
’
re sick, all of them, and my daughter
’
s in their grip now!
”
Emma calmed the woman down, pondering the ethical issues here. The surveillance was a bust, all over but the death rattle. Client vamoose. So given that was finito, a declared failure, was there a reason she couldn
’
t accept this completely different case and different issue? She surely didn
’
t feel a conflict of interest and she did feel the cold breath of overdue bills. Insurance cheat or not, Sophia Redmond had the right to look for a daughter she considered in danger.
“
Let
’
s get some facts down, then, all right?
”
Emma asked. Ethical questions sufficiently addressed.
“
Then you
’
ll help?
”
Sophia Redmond looked tearfully relieved. Arthur glanced over at Billie.
“
Which of you is going to do it?
”
he asked.
“
We both will,
”
Emma said.
“
Plus other associates.
”
Not exactly a lie. If other associates should magically appear, they
’
d work on it, too.
“
As I explained.
”
“
Does she have any experience? She
’
s pretty young, isn
’
t she?
”
Arthur jerked his head in Billie
’
s direction.
Emma could feel the irritated vibrations coming off Billie, who was being discussed as if she weren
’
t sentient. But what was she going to say? Billie had experience, yes
—
one
—
and she
’
d botched it all to hell.
“
Her youthful appearance is the main reason I
’
d like Ms. August on this case,
”
Emma said.
“
If we
’
re searching for a missing teenager, there will be situations where she
’
d obviously be much better than I would at
…”
Billie, combed and tucked and carefully made-up, sat, her eyebrows lifted, her expression amused but intent as she focused on Emma, waiting. At what was she better?
“…
looking young. Fitting in. Less obtrusive. She is not underage, I assure you.
”
Billie returned her attention to the Redmonds.
Arthur Redmond grunted. Emma assumed that indicated assent.
They made note of the few statistics that Penelope Susan Redmond had managed to accumulate in eighteen years. Grades that depended on her level of interest, a level that had bottomed out of late. College plans lost in a fog. Increasingly withdrawn, sullen, vague, and nobody could think of a reason.
One sibling, Wesley, ten years younger. Mrs. Redmond rushed to overexplain the reproduction gap.
“
Like I said, Penelope is from my first marriage. I was young, like her. Stupid, like her, and then I was single for many years before I married Arthur. We had Wesley.
”
Penelope had a standard teenage r
é
sum
é
. Nothing exceptional or idiosyncratic that might provide leads to special-interest groups. Emma detested searching for runaway teens. They were larval creatures with no form or parts to grab. Not humans yet. Billie would do this one.
Penelope baby-sat a lot all year, and in the summer, she added working in fast-food places.
“
A nice, average girl,
”
Sophia repeated several times.
“
A good girl.
”
Arthur Redmond snorted.
“
And since I
’
ve been
…
incapacitated, she
’
s been extra good. Drives me to the appointments and every single day to United Market. The one right off the freeway? I like fresh vegetables, you see, and they
—”
“
For God
’
s sake, Sophia!
”
“
She told you about his cult?
”
Billie asked.
“
What did she say?
”
Sophia shook her frizzy hair.
“
She didn
’
t. Wesley, my son, told me. She told him about the time-travel. That she
’
d met her knight in shining armor. Her rescuer. They
’
re very close, Penny and Wesley. Ten years apart and only half related by blood, but they
’
re like
that
.
”
She held two fingers together. Her other hand still clutched the
I.J.
article about Emma.
Arthur said,
“
Sophia!
”
“
She didn
’
t tell Wesley his name?
”
Emma asked.
Another head-shake.
“
I
’
ve told you everything we know.
”
“
This young man took her away without ever calling or visiting her?
”
Billie asked. Emma approved of both the question and its timing.
“
Where did they meet, make contact? Did he go to her school?
”
“
She never said
…”
Sophia stopped and reconsidered.
“
I don
’
t think he could have. I mean he could have graduated a while back, but I don
’
t think she would know him from school. He
’
s older. He has a car. He pays rent. So he must have a job. Must be older than she is. Or a dropout with some criminal way of making his money.
”
“
What kind of car did he drive?
”
Billie asked.
“
Yellow.
”
“
What kind of answer is that?
”
her husband asked, still not looking at her.
“
I don
’
t know cars. It
’
s silly, big, and it looked yellow in the rain. Not a normal car color, either, not even taxicab yellow, more like
—”
“
Sophia!
”
“
No,
”
Emma said,
“
this could be important. Not taxi yellow, so what kind of yellow did it seem?
”
“
Butter,
”
Sophia said.
“
Something between a lemon and butter. Maybe margarine.
”
“
Sophia!
”
“
It was raining and that
’
s all I know.
”
“
Her Social Security number?
”
Emma asked.
“
Why?
”
Arthur Redmond this time.
“
She
’
s not applying for a pension.
”
“
If she looks for work, even under an assumed name
…”
Emma kept her voice flat.
“
I don
’
t
…
I
’
m sorry. I must have it at home,
”
Sophia said.
“
I
’
ll look.
”