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The dark-haired officer stopped typing on the computer. “You could say that.”
Kincaid introduced himself and Sara. She saw the flicker of recognition on the man’s face, the sudden respect as he heard Kincaid’s name. Was there anyone in the state who hadn’t heard of this man?
“Cole Darwin,” the officer said. “If you’re looking for Lenny, he’s not here.”
“I know that. Would you have any idea where we could find him?”
Darwin shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Lenny gets around.”
“Look,” Kincaid persisted, “I know he’s in trouble. I want to help, to talk with him, but he’s not at home and I don’t know where else to look.” He paused, waiting. “I’d be mighty appreciative.”
Cole sat up straighter, glanced to the left, then the right before leaning closer to Kincaid. “Try his apartment, 125 Hanover, off Mill Avenue. You didn’t hear it from me, okay?”
“Right. Thanks.” Hand on Sara’s arm, he guided her outside into bright sunlight.
Despite the heat, Sara felt a shiver take her. “An apartment? Why would Lenny need an apartment?” she asked, truly puzzled.
“We’re about to find out,” Kincaid said, although he thought he had a pretty good idea. When a married man kept an apartment, usually there was only one reason.
The Manderly Inn was actually two three-story apartment complexes, motel-style with a somewhat neglected courtyard between. At Kincaid’s knock, the manager ambled out of the lower unit facing the parking lot.
Middle-aged and short, wearing a gray T-shirt and chewing on a toothpick, the man squinted up at Kincaid. “You want to rent a place?” he asked. “We’ve got one on the third ready now and another on the first floor by next week.”
“No, that’s not why we’re here.” Kincaid showed him his badge.
He studied the badge for several seconds. “I’m Charley, the super. What do you need?”
“Lenny Nelson rents a place here, I understand. Is he around?”
Charley shook his head. “Haven’t seen Lenny since a week or so ago.”
“We need to see his apartment. Police matter.”
Charley’s amiable expression changed, turning wary. He fingered a brass ring of keys hanging from the belt loop of his faded jeans, searching for the right one as he led the way to the outside stairs. “Third floor, in back.” Climbing, he sneaked a glance at Kincaid. “I don’t want no trouble. Lenny’s a cop, too. He makes sure we keep things up to code, you know. We used to have trouble, dopeheads and deadbeats. But not since Lenny came along. He’s a good tenant. I run a clean, law-abiding place, you know.”
Sure you do, Sara thought as she followed the two men up the wooden stairway with a rickety railing.
“How long has he been renting here?” Kincaid asked.
“Almost a year now.” They stopped in front of a heavy door marked with a crooked “3-D.”
Sara braced herself as Charley knocked twice, waited a minute, called out, then unlocked the door.
“He’s coming back, ain’t he?” he asked, stepping back nervously.
“Thanks,” Kincaid said, noticing that the man looked as if he wanted to go in with them. “We’ll lock up when we leave.”
Charley hesitated, then reluctantly started back down when he realized no more information was forthcoming.
Kincaid turned on a cheap lamp before looking around. Industrial gray-green carpet, walls that had once been painted white, a sagging couch and chair, closed gold drapes hanging crookedly over a wide window. The lingering smoke of a thousand cigarettes mingled with accumulated dust.
“I wonder how many people have lived in this place,” Sara said out loud as she walked through the empty L-shaped dining room into a small kitchen.
“Plenty,” Kincaid muttered as he turned down the hallway. The first room held only a desk and a filing cabinet. A quick search proved both were empty. Next was the bath. He opened the mirrored medicine chest and saw a razor, shaving cream, toothpaste and a tube that turned out to be bright-pink lipstick. Two toothbrushes were stuck into a chipped glass.
Wandering to the large bedroom, he saw Sara standing in front of the open closet, her expression grim. A filmy robe in shades of blue hung alongside two police uniforms. On the floor were a pair of polished cop shoes and pale blue mules.
He touched her arm. “Are you surprised?”
“I shouldn’t be, should I? Not after learning what kind of marriage Lenny and Meg have. I wonder if she suspects.” She closed the closet door with disgust.
A double bed with rumpled sheets sat between two shaded windows. Sara felt moisture run down her spine in the oppressive heat of the apartment. On top of the maple dresser that had seen better days was a hairbrush with blond hairs tangled in it alongside a comb with two dark hairs intertwined. She couldn’t resist opening the dresser drawers. More clothes, women’s underwear, men’s briefs, two blue uniform shirts still in their laundry wrappers. On the bare floor next to the bed was the robe’s matching nightie, lying there as if hastily removed.
Kincaid opened the drawer of the lone nightstand and found only a box of condoms. He walked back to the living room.
Some things you’re better off not knowing, Sara thought as she trailed after him.
Kincaid was rummaging through the drawer of the end table. He removed several maps and papers as Sara leaned over for a closer look. “What did you find?”
He held them out one by one. “A hiking map of Coconino National Forest with a trail highlighted in yellow. Another map of northeast Phoenix with a route highlighted to Roosevelt Lake, with ‘widemouth bass’ written in the margin. And a brochure of Disneyland with some markings on it. Recognize these?”
Sara looked at the brochure and sucked in a quick breath. “Those notations on the Disneyland brochure were made by Mike. I recognize his handwriting. Do you think he brought that boy here, to this…this place?”
“Nah, he probably brought the stuff here so he could look them over away from his wife’s prying eyes.” Kincaid suspected he was wrong, but he didn’t want to upset her further.
He opened the second drawer and pulled out a marked-up racing form, several lottery tickets with a penciled line drawn diagonally through each and a brochure from Ak-chin Casino. Spreading out the brochure, he noticed a picture of a hotel and “Room 223” written alongside a price of $99 per night.
Sara’s shoulders sagged. “He’s not only an unfaithful louse but a gambler, as well.”
Kincaid agreed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Back in the Explorer, Sara let out a troubled sigh. “I just know he took Mike up there where he…where some woman—”
Kincaid took her hand in his and squeezed. “Don’t think about it.” He handed her the maps. “Let’s go somewhere and study these. Maybe we can figure out where they went.”
Too upset to respond, Sara just nodded.
“There’s a little Mexican restaurant on Mill Avenue. Let’s grab something to eat. I’m starved.”
Glancing at her strained face, her hands folded tightly together, Kincaid knew she was picturing Mike in that crummy apartment with her brother-in-law and maybe some woman he was seeing. That couldn’t be easy.
He found he badly wanted to remove that sad, frightened look from Sara’s beautiful eyes. But locating a man on a trip with his son, a father who’d left a note telling the mother not to worry, wouldn’t be easy. And if he found them, what would be the charge? Lenny could be planning to return for next Monday’s internal affairs hearing and unless he didn’t, there’d be no warrant out for his arrest. Kincaid’s investigation could be considered harassment.
Yet, despite all that, he wanted to help Sara.
Shifting, he turned out of the parking lot, then suddenly braked as he realized he’d been snared, caught up in a situation he’d promised himself he’d avoid, at least for a while.
“What’s wrong?” Sara asked, turning toward him.
“Nothing,” Kincaid muttered, easing into traffic. “Nothing at all.”
Feeling numb, Sara let Kincaid direct her to a table at Manuel’s. It was two o’clock, so the lunch crowd had thinned, leaving only one older couple just finishing and two young men sipping beer and munching on nachos. The mustached waiter brought them chips and salsa along with two big glasses of water, then left them to study the plastic-coated menus.
“What would you like?” Kincaid asked, inhaling the delicious spicy aromas.
“I’m not hungry,” Sara answered as she dug in her purse for a couple of aspirin. Her headache had gotten worse.
Kincaid waited until she’d swallowed the pills, then placed a hand over both of hers. He didn’t speak until she looked up and met his eyes. “Sara, you have to eat. You didn’t even taste the doughnut this morning. If you don’t keep up your strength, you won’t be any help to Mike.”
That got her attention. She desperately wanted to go with Kincaid on his search for Mike, if in fact he’d decided to take the case. If the only way to do that was to eat, she’d eat. “Okay, you order for me.”
He did, two frosted beers and two lunch specials, which, when they arrived steaming hot, Sara thought could easily feed four people. Waiting for a forkful of chili relleno to cool, she watched Kincaid shovel in his food as if it were room temperature. “You must have an asbestos-lined mouth,” she commented.
“Told you I was starved.” He took a swallow of the chilled beer and saw that she was finally eating. Thinking aloud, he said, “There’s so much gambling in Arizona now—racetracks, the Indian casinos, the state lottery. Too much temptation for some, I guess.”
The small burrito was delicious, Sara decided, her appetite returning somewhat. “I suppose so, but I had no idea Lenny was so into it. I’ve never heard him or Meg mention going to the track or spending an evening at a casino. Meg’s too cautious to gamble. He must be doing it on his own. Or with the blond woman who left her hairbrush behind.”
So she’d noticed that, too. “You have the makings of a fine detective,” he told her as he scooped a spoonful of refried beans.
“Mmm, I’m a regular sleuth.”
“So what do we know so far?” Kincaid began.
Thoughtfully she toyed with her Spanish rice. “Well, we know my brother-in-law has a seedy apartment where he takes a blond woman. Or perhaps several women. I know that Meg hasn’t a clue that he’s unfaithful, or she’d have thrown him out by now. We know he’s suspected of stealing and selling stuff to get money, probably to gamble. I imagine he wants more money than Meg is willing to give him. I don’t know what that apartment costs, but I’m sure he isn’t taking the money from his paycheck.”
Finished with his lunch, Kincaid sat back, thoughtfully nursing his beer.
“He’s taking a big risk with that apartment,” Sara continued. “Why not just rent a motel room occasionally?”
Kincaid noticed that she was eating steadily, though he doubted she was aware she’d nearly cleaned her plate. “Perhaps his allowance doesn’t cover the cost of motels.” Something was nagging at him, and he wondered if Sara had noticed it, as well. “What did you think of that nervous little manager?”
Sara tasted her beer, not her favorite drink, but it was refreshingly cold. “I wondered why he asked so many questions. And what did he mean that the complex used to have druggies and the like before, but not since Lenny came on the scene?”
He smiled, pleased that she’d caught that, too. “Kind of makes me wonder if Lenny had an arrangement with the manager—a free apartment for his protection.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?”
“Last time I checked.” Kincaid drained his glass. “We could go back there, and I’m sure I could get the manager to open up, but if Lenny’s still around this area, I don’t want him to know we’re checking on him.”
Surprised she’d eaten so much, Sara laid down her fork at last and drank some water. “So what do you suggest we do next?”
Kincaid shuffled through the camping maps, the fishing area and Disneyland brochure. “We know he’s taken Mike fishing before, so do you think he did again?”
“Maybe. I’d also promised I’d take Mike to Disneyland before summer’s end, so I doubt they went there. Mike loves the outdoors, camping, hiking. I just can’t figure why Lenny would take him along if he was doing something shady.”
“Does Lenny have a cell phone?”
“Yes, but I’ve already tried that. He’s got it turned off.”
“That’s odd. Seems like he doesn’t want anyone bothering him.”
“That’s probably true. Meg does a lot of checking up on him and he hates it.” She gazed at the papers spread out on the table. “If I had to choose, I’d say Lenny’s taken Mike camping somewhere. Last fall, I took him up this fairly rugged trail on a mountain just north of Flagstaff. There’s an old cabin up near the top by a clearing, probably built by a prospector years ago. Copper mining used to be big back then, but all the mines have been abandoned since. Anyhow, Lenny got so angry when I told him I didn’t want him along that he’s been cool toward me ever since. Maybe he’s taken Mike up himself because he knows I wouldn’t like it.”
“Why wouldn’t you like Lenny and Mike going hiking together? After all, he’s the boy’s father.”
She shrugged, her hands twisting her napkin. “He’s an on-again off-again father. He wouldn’t take Mike camping because he wanted to, but rather to make a statement, either to Meg or to me. He’s a show-off and doesn’t know the first thing about caring for Mike around dangerous places where the boy might get hurt. He fell once when he was out with Lenny, only about twenty feet I was told, and he escaped with just scratches. But it happened because Lenny urged him to get close to the edge to take a photograph.”
“Forgive me, but since you weren’t along, how do you know that? Sometimes kids get daring on their own.” Mike was a boy, after all, Kincaid thought, and boys took chances, rarely mindful of danger. She sounded overly protective. Maybe Lenny took Mike because Sara had been interfering too much.
Slowly she ripped the napkin in half, then in fourths. “You’re right, I wasn’t there. But Mike told me later when I questioned him. And he’s very honest.”
Honest to a degree, but likely unwilling to admit to his very loving aunt that he’d gotten careless. He watched as she continued to shred the napkin, a nervous habit, he decided. To stop her agitation, he took the napkin remnants from her and placed both his hands over hers to still her, then waited for her to look up.
His hands were large and powerful, Sara thought, yet his touch was tender. She felt warmth spread from where their hands were joined, bringing an unwelcome awareness. Finally she met his eyes, noticing that they were more pewter than green in the restaurant lighting. She felt an overwhelming urge to brush back the lock of curly black hair that had fallen onto his forehead, but she managed to suppress it. She realized he was awfully good-looking, not movie-star handsome, but with solid features attractively put together, a face you could trust.
Or could she? She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, though it seemed longer. Her instincts told her he was honest, and his actions so far indicated that. Still, she knew him mostly by his reputation.
Dare she trust him?
Kincaid saw her lips quiver slightly and almost reached up to caress them. He hardly knew her, and though she’d told him a great deal in a short time, he had a feeling she was holding back something important. In his line of work he’d learned to read people, to determine character and personality quickly. Sara Morgan was hiding something, and only by getting closer to her would he discover what. Of course, he could…wait! He had to be losing his mind to even consider getting involved with her. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the hard way?
With no small effort, Kincaid withdrew his hands but held her gaze. “I have to say it again, Sara, that despite everything we’ve learned, there simply isn’t a case here.”
Her eyes filled with emotion so strong he had to look away. “Lenny’s a louse and it would seem he has some serious explaining to do to internal affairs. He’s also a cheating husband, but that’s between him and Meg. Maybe he went away with Mike because he knew that he was in trouble and might face jail time, so he had one last outing with the boy. I don’t know what his thinking was, but let’s just say we find them. Then what? He hasn’t done anything to his son that’s against the law, as far as we know.” He saw she was making an effort to control herself.
“I’m sorry, Sara. Really I am.”
She nodded, her eyes downcast as she reached for her purse and searched for her wallet.
“Please, allow me,” Kincaid said, tossing a twenty on the table.
Sara slid out of the booth, and they left the restaurant. The ride back to her home was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Sara wondered where she’d turn next, who might help her. Probably no one since Kincaid’s reasons for refusing were sound. Anyone else would reach the same conclusions. But they didn’t know Lenny the way she did, and they didn’t love Mike. They also didn’t have a gut feeling that something was wrong.
She’d go it alone. She simply had to.
As they neared her condo, Sara gathered up the maps and brochures, putting them in her purse.
Kincaid thought he knew exactly what she was planning. “Don’t do it, Sara. Not only are you looking for a needle in a haystack, but you could be walking into a dangerous situation.” He glanced over at her, saw the stubborn set of her jaw and noticed that she wouldn’t look at him nor answer him.
“Damn it, Sara, don’t do this. Wait awhile and most likely they’ll be back. Lenny wouldn’t compound his problems regarding his thefts by not showing up on Monday for his date with internal affairs. That would be crazy.”
Sara felt she’d better answer him or he’d try to stop her some way. “I know. You’re right.”
Kincaid swore under his breath, knowing she was unconvinced. He turned onto her street, wondering how he could make her see. He swung into her parking lot and drove around back to the stairwell leading up to her condo. As he parked, he noticed a woman in a muumuu with red poppies get up off the third step and come toward them.
“I wonder why your sister’s here,” he said, pulling to a stop. Maybe Lenny and Mike were back and Sara could rest easy.
“I have no idea,” Sara answered, climbing out as Meg came closer.
