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“Well, I flunked.” Erin turned back to Aubrey. “Remember me?”
“Two years ago,” Aubrey said as the memory came to her. “You sat in the back row and slept.”
Erin smiled broadly. “You do remember. What are you doing hanging out with this guy?” She nudged Beau with her foot.
Beau slid his arm around Aubrey. “What, I’m not allowed to have a respectable girlfriend?”
“Nuh-uh,” Jodie said. “I’m your girlfriend, forever and ever. You promised.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Aubrey objected, but in the face of all that overt sex appeal being directed at Beau, she almost wished she could put a claim on him. The feel of his arm around her waist was warm and secure, causing an unwelcome shiver to wiggle up her spine in spite of the afternoon heat.
“Hey, we’re just kidding around,” Erin said, apparently sensing Aubrey’s unease. But Beau kept his arm where it was. Maybe it was a gesture of protection, a sign to these girls that they weren’t supposed to mess with her.
“Hey, Beau, did I hear you were looking for Shelley?” Jodie asked.
Beau shrugged. “Yeah, I was,” he said with seeming disinterest. But the tension suddenly radiating out of his arm and hand was palpable.
“What’s it worth to you?”
“The usual.”
“How about double the usual?”
“How about I tell your brother you’re turning tricks on Chestnut Street?”
“Beau! Okay. Twenty now, and fifty if my tip is good.”
“Sounds reasonable.” He shook her hand, and Jodie adjusted the strap of her tank top. Aubrey realized the transaction had already taken place.
“She’s staying at her aunt’s house, in that new subdivision on Monument Hill. It’s a redbrick house with a broken mailbox.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”
“I know you will.”
Beau started to lead Aubrey away, but she hesitated. She looked at Erin, who couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Don’t say it, Dr. Schuyler,” she mumbled. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
When they were a block away, Aubrey finally spoke. “That is so sad. We should be doing something to help them, instead of paying them for tips.”
“Erin’s been dragged off to rehab twice. We can’t force her to change.”
“Like Patti, I guess,” Aubrey said on a sigh. “She didn’t want to change until Sara came along.”
They stopped at a corner for a light, and Aubrey felt light-headed all the sudden. She reached out for a lamppost to steady herself.
Beau looked at her with concern. “When was the last time you ate?”
She had to think about it. She’d eaten a bagel for breakfast, a lifetime ago, and she’d thrown up since then. No wonder she was cranky. “I’m not sure I could eat anything.”
“Sure you can.” He steered her into a pancake house a couple of blocks from the agency. “You can’t do this kind of work without fuel for your brain, not to mention your body.” He nodded to the hostess, then guided Aubrey to a booth in the back. A wispy-haired waitress appeared.
“Your usual, Beau?” She cocked her hip to one side and blushed furiously.
“Yeah. You want a menu, Aubrey?”
“No. Just some wheat toast and hot tea.”
The waitress disappeared, then returned with coffee for Beau and Aubrey’s tea.
“I’m gonna run down to the agency and check on a few things,” Beau said. “I’ll be back before the food gets here. Meanwhile, I want you to get on your cell phone and call everyone you can think of who knows Patti—friends, relatives, co-workers, neighbors, former lovers, anybody. See if you can get a lead on where she might be hiding out, or who she owed money to.” He slid out of the booth and disappeared, seemingly confident Aubrey would obey orders.
With a sigh she got out her cell phone and a small address book she kept in her purse. She knew hardly any of Patti’s friends. Though they’d lived together for more than a year—since Charlie Soffit had kicked Patti out of his mobile home—Aubrey knew very little of Patti’s life. But she had Charlie’s phone number. That was a start. And the number at the insurance agency where Patti worked.
First, though, she wanted to call her uncle Wayne. Since Patti had gone to his law firm for the will, he might know something. Besides, she hadn’t talked to that branch of the family in months. Since her parents had retired to Padre, her uncle and cousin David were the only family she had left in town, other than Patti and Sara. Yet she hardly ever talked to them. She’d once been pretty close to David, who was her own age. Back when they were kids, she and David had been the “good kids,” the scaredy-cats who’d tried to keep the others—Gavin, Beau and Patti—from getting into trouble. Now, though, they didn’t have much in common. He’d gone to William and Mary, then law school. They moved in different circles.
She dialed Uncle Wayne’s home number. This time of the afternoon, he would probably be there. He was semiretired from the firm now, only rarely visiting the office.
She was surprised when David answered the phone.
“Aubrey. How in the hell are you?”
“I’m…okay,” she said guardedly, not wanting to blurt out that she’d been assaulted, her home had been burglarized, and that his sister and niece were missing. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“God knows I should be. But…” His voice trailed off. He sounded troubled.
“What is it, David?”
“I probably should have called you. Dad’s not doing too well. He has cancer.”
“Oh, my God, that’s awful! Is he…I mean, lots of people survive….”
“Not this time. It’s all over his body. They’re not even sure where it started. They caught it way too late to do anything. He’s got a couple of months at most.”
Aubrey took a sip of her tea, trying to absorb the terrible news. “You should have let me know.”
“He didn’t want me to. He didn’t want everyone to worry about him. You know how he is.”
“It’s my fault, too. I should have kept in better touch. I mean, a card and a canister of cookies at Christmas…”
“Well, it’s been awkward, with Patti living with you.”
This was true. Patti had a way of putting tension on the whole family, making Aubrey feel like a traitor if she got too friendly with the enemy.
“Could I talk to Uncle Wayne?”
“Um, not right now. He’s sedated. That’s why I’m not at work. He’s having a really bad day. When he’s like this, I don’t feel right just leaving him with the nurse and the housekeeper. In fact, I’ve moved back here to care for him.”
“I’m so sorry.” It was all she could think of to say. David and Patti had lost their mother to lung cancer when they were just teenagers. Aubrey had always believed it was losing her mother so young that had caused Patti to rebel. “I wanted to ask Uncle Wayne something, but you might be able to help me. Patti’s gotten herself in a bit of trouble.”
“This is news?” She could almost see him rolling his eyes.
“Seriously, David. She had a will drawn up at the firm just in the past few weeks. I thought maybe she might have told you or Uncle Wayne what the problem was.”
“She owes somebody some money.”
“Then you know? You’ve talked to her?”
“I didn’t know anything about the will. But I did talk to her. She called here a couple of days ago, wanting to speak to Dad. I didn’t let her—his doctor says he shouldn’t get upset, and Patti can’t talk to Dad without upsetting him. Then she told me she needed some money.”
“You didn’t give it to her, I take it.”
“Of course not. She’s always making up sob stories about how she needs money. This time she said she’d borrowed money from a loan shark, and he was going to put a contract on her life if she didn’t pay him off. It’s not…I mean, it’s not true, is it?” His voice showed sudden concern.
“I think it might be. Certainly there’s a very unpleasant person looking for her. And she’s missing. She took Sara and fled.”
“Aw, hell. Aubrey, I didn’t know, I swear it. She’s cried wolf so many times—”
“I know, David. I don’t blame you.” She told him then about the break-in and the assault, and the spooky phone call.
“Jeez, Aubrey. Are you safe now? You can stay with us if you want. We have burglar bars and a good security system. We had a prowler a while back, a real creepy guy peeking in the windows, and Dad got paranoid. This house is like Fort Knox now.”
“I might take you up on that. So you haven’t seen Patti since you talked to her a couple of days ago?”
“No. I haven’t seen her in months.”
“She might just show up there and try to see her dad. If she does, call me right away, okay?”
“Of course. Hell, I’ll help her if I can. I just had no idea.”
“I know. Give my love to your dad, will you? And tell him I’ll visit soon.”
Aubrey hung up and took another sip of tea. Beau returned just as the food arrived. He had his timing down.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look kind of pale.”
As he wolfed down pancakes, she told him about her phone call with David. Beau was visibly shaken. The Clarendons had been like family to him, once upon a time. “I haven’t been the greatest about keeping in touch, either. You’re not the only one who’s got a bit of a grudge against me.”
A grudge. That was an understatement.
“Your aunt and uncle were always really nice to me,” he continued, “though I suspect they thought I was a bad influence on David.”
“David? No way. He was incorruptible. ‘Squeak’ fits him better than me.”
Beau shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up in that infuriating almost-smile. “He had you snowed, Aubrey.” But then he turned serious. “I need to check out the tip Erin gave me. You want to help me out?”
“Me?”
“It’s a conservative neighborhood. I’ll be spotted immediately, but you’ll look right at home.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
Beau handed the waitress money for the bill, including a generous tip, and they left the restaurant. “Once we find the house, just go up to the door and pretend you’re a new neighbor. Ask for a cup of sugar or something.”
“I’ll ask to use the phone.”
Beau grinned. “You’re a natural.”
They climbed back into his Mustang. Beau raised the top and turned on the air-conditioning, for which Aubrey was extremely grateful. She normally didn’t mind the Texas heat, but her fair skin would freckle if she got any more sun.
They found the small tract house with the broken mailbox soon enough. Beau parked around the corner. “If someone answers the door, try to peek inside and look for a two-year-old.” He showed Aubrey a photo of a cute towheaded toddler. “If you see the kid or kid’s toys, that’s all I need for now.”
Aubrey couldn’t believe she was doing this, but it sounded easy enough. Anyway, she needed the practice. She was going undercover tonight—at an S&M bar.
A woman in her fifties answered the door. “Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Rita McMurray.” She had no idea where that name had come from. “I’m moving in a couple of houses down,” she said, pointing vaguely down the block, “and they haven’t connected the phone yet. Could I use yours?”
The woman gave a tight smile. “Sure. I’ll bring you the cordless.” She closed the screen door, but Aubrey got a clear view inside. She looked for any sign of a child and saw nothing. But moments later an ear-piercing shriek rent the air. The child—for surely that’s what it was—was quickly shushed by someone inside.
The woman returned with the phone. Aubrey dialed her office number, pretended to talk to her nonexistent husband, returned the phone and got out of there. She felt triumphant, exultant, as she rounded the corner and got into Beau’s car.
“Yup, there’s a child in there. I didn’t see him, but I heard him. And he was shushed up really quickly.”
“Good work.” He pulled a cell phone from the console and dialed, then gave some terse directions. Apparently he was going to extract the child from the house right now.
In fifteen minutes two more cars showed up. One held Ace and Lori. A man Aubrey had never met climbed out of the second. He was huge, six-three at least, with blond hair cut very short and piercing green eyes. He screamed ex-military.
The three men and Lori conferred on the sidewalk while Aubrey remained in the stifling car. Then the blond man and Ace went up the alley, while Beau walked back down the block toward the front of the redbrick house.
Lori joined Aubrey at the car, leaning in the open window. “Don’t you just hate being a woman sometimes? Those macho jerks won’t let me help.”
The last place Aubrey wanted to be was with the guys right now. “I’ll stay right here where it’s safe, thanks.”
“Come on, let’s watch.”
Aubrey got out of the car, though Beau had told her not to, and she and Lori peeked out from behind a fence. Beau beat on the front door. “Fugitive recovery agent! Open up!”
The door opened immediately and Beau went inside. An interminable amount of time seemed to pass, though realistically it was probably only a minute or two. Then he emerged holding a screaming child. He gave a signal to Lori.
“Come on, that’s our cue.”
Without knowing what she was doing, Aubrey jumped in the Mustang along with Lori, who cranked it up, put it in gear, and skidded around the corner. Beau met the car, opened Aubrey’s door and handed the kid to her. “Get out of here.”
Lori hit the gas.
The child screamed despite Aubrey’s attempts to comfort him. “Is this legal?” she asked Lori. “Just snatching a kid away from his mother?”
