Enemies Closer (13 page)

She smiled coyly. “I’m just easing you in, Mr. Radcliffe. I left my tiaras in Boston.”

Kincaid and Carlisle exchanged a look. “Oh, dear,” said Judy. “You two aren’t going to fall in love, are you?”

“Detective! A little flirting helps me relax,” said Clara, her cheeks turning pink.

“I’m just saying, it could really complicate our investigation,” said Carlisle in a motherly tone.

“Well, we don’t want that,” said Ben. “I’ll wait to fall in love until we’ve found Maddy.”

Clara’s eyes widened and she poked Ben in the ribs, but Carlisle replied without cracking a smile, “My partner and I would really appreciate that, Ben.”

Kincaid tapped out a little beat on the table, “Thanks for the coffee. You two get some rest and let us know immediately if you find anything weird on Maddy’s computer. Even if it’s the middle of the night, we need to know the minute you do if you see any discrepancies in the restaurant’s files, any stalkers in her email, any Twitter trolls, anything at all.” He turned to his partner. “We’ve got a few things to follow up on tonight too and we’d better get to it.”

Carlisle added, “I’m glad you found a witness, but don’t do it again. If you get yourself kidnapped or killed we won’t be able to devote as much time to finding your sister, and no one wants that, right?”

“Right,” said Clara.

“Talk to you soon,” said Ben, and the two detectives left.

Chapter Eleven

A
few minutes later Clara and Ben were out on the street. She took a deep breath of cool night air. “Are you still up for taking a look at Maddy’s laptop?”

“I am,” said Ben, “but it will have to involve food or I won’t be much use.”

They decided to order delivery from a Thai place that he liked and walked back to Maddy’s apartment. Clara said, “They’re both calling her Maddy now.”

Ben nodded. “It means they feel close to her. It’s good.”

Clara nodded. She thought it was good too.

Back at the condo, Ben placed their dinner order while Clara perused Maddy’s selection of wines. “Does red or white go better with Thai food?”

He laughed. “Beer goes better with Thai food.”

Clara checked the fridge and found seven or eight bottles of cold beer. She chose two pilsners and handed one to Ben. “All of her passwords are labeled, so it shouldn’t be hard to get into her accounts.”

Ben picked up the sheet of printer paper Clara had brought to the kitchen table with Maddy’s laptop. Aghast, he said, “She keeps them on a list? That is a really bad idea.”

“Yes. I’ve lectured her many times, but what to drink with Thai food is Maddy’s area of expertise, not double-checking her privacy settings on Facebook, if you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed. You’ll have to get her to change all of these when she gets home.”

When Clara didn’t respond he looked at her. “What is it?”

“Do you really think she’ll come home, Ben?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely,” he said, and he set down the piece of paper and wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for a while, neither speaking, until Clara broke the embrace. “I’d better feed Bea or she’ll drive us crazy while we’re eating.”

When the food arrived Ben served rice into two big pasta bowls and then ladled green curry and basil stir-fry over the top. He put coconut shrimp and spring rolls onto a plate and sat down. “You’ll be smarter if you eat something.”

Clara knew he was right, and despite the ball of tension that had been in her stomach all day the spicy food smelled wonderful. She sat down and picked up a shrimp.

Ben went on, “Plus, I ordered everything extra hot. The heat in peppers makes your body release endorphins and makes you happy.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Maddy told me that apart from exercise, spicy food is the best natural antidepressant on earth.”

“That’s so? I could use some of that now.”

“You’re doing everything you can, Clara. I’m sure you must be frustrated and I know you’re scared, but trying to figure out
why
Maddy was taken in the first place is the best way to find out
where
she was taken.”

Clara nodded. “I think Carlisle and Kincaid are really good detectives.” Each bite of chicken curry was tastier than the last and Clara was feeling a lot better. She took a drink of beer to cool the burning on her tongue. “That is, apart from the scolding I get every time I speak to them. I was pretty skeptical when I first met Detective Carlisle.”

“Did you go in to the police station?”

“Yeah. Thursday after I arrived and checked in with Michelle. She’d already reported Maddy missing and I wanted to know what they’d done so far.”

“What had they done?”

“Not much. But Michelle couldn’t make an official report until sometime Wednesday afternoon or evening. Not until Maddy had been missing for twenty-four hours. Of course, she was probably missing more than thirty-six hours at that point if she was taken after her dinner with you, but no one knew. As far as Michelle was aware, she just didn’t show up at the restaurant on Tuesday afternoon. Anyway, after she’d talked to my parents on Wednesday, Michelle called the police. So when I got there early Thursday afternoon, all they had really done was send a patrol to stop by here and knock on the door.”

“Which obviously wasn’t helpful, since she wasn’t here.”

“Right, so they couldn’t look around inside and there were no signs of a struggle in the hallway, none of the neighbors were around, and no one had reported a scuffle. I don’t think the police can do much about a missing adult in the early hours. Evidently they can do a welfare check, but can’t break the door down, you know?” Ben nodded. “But Detective Carlisle was concerned because my sister does not have a lifestyle conducive to running off for a day or two. As an owner, she has to be at Dovetail six days a week to hold down the fort. She hasn’t even been home to visit since they opened the restaurant.” She smiled. “Although, that suits me because I get to come to Seattle. In any case, she has a huge personal investment in
not
being absent for any reason, making it very unlikely that she would just take off. And that seemed good enough to get Carlisle’s attention.”

Ben served her some more rice and stir-fry. Clara was surprised to see she’d cleaned her plate. “This was a really good idea, Ben.”

“My pleasure.” He shook his head. “I wish I had some idea of what happened here. You’d think that if there was anything in her life this threatening, someone would have known about it. What do you know about Michelle’s husband, Eddie? I’ve met him once or twice but hardly exchanged ten words.”

“Like I said earlier, Maddy told me he has a temper, but he’s never turned it on her, or Michelle. I’m sure Maddy would have told me that. Personally, I always liked him.”

“I wonder what his relationship with Susan was like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said that Eddie went after a waiter because he was arguing with Michelle. It would be good to know if Susan had done anything lately to piss either of them off.”

“I talked to Susan yesterday. God, it’s so weird to think she’s dead.
Murdered.
” Clara put her fork down. “She didn’t seem upset about anything. Michelle was there and I didn’t notice any tension between them. Of course, I don’t know Susan at all. Yesterday was the first time I’d ever met her.”

Ben took Clara’s hand. “I’m sorry this is happening.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment. “What does Eddie do for a living?”

“I’m not sure exactly, something with money.”

“What exactly does Eddie Perkins do for a living?” asked Kincaid.

“Time to find out,” said Carlisle. They were back at the station after stopping to pick up Kincaid’s car from the scene of Susan’s murder and to buy a few foot-long sandwiches from Subway. They had both missed dinner and they weren’t going to get anywhere without some fuel.

Kincaid was four bites into his Big Philly Cheesesteak and he wiped his hands on a napkin to start a records search. Meanwhile, Carlisle had an answer. “He’s in money.”

“Money what?” asked her partner without taking his eyes off the computer.

“Money management. He runs a hedge fund.”

Kincaid had also found something. “No shit? Because he has a record. Indicted fifteen years ago in Orange County for fraud.”

Carlisle’s mouth dropped. “No shit?”

“He was acquitted. He also has an assault arrest in Los Angeles County eight years before that. Charges dropped. He’s forty-seven now, so thirty-two for the fraud charge and twenty-four for the assault. Born in LA County, issued a Washington State driver’s license when he was thirty-five. Drives a silver BMW Z4. Nice ride.”

“Could be the car our witness saw Madeline get into on Monday night.”

“Could be,” said Kincaid, “but we need more than that for a search warrant.”

“History of violence, history of funny business with finances…”

“He was never convicted.”

Carlisle rolled her eyes. “Stop playing District Attorney.”

“Someone has to stop you from jumping the gun.”

She leaned forward. “If that fucker has had Maddy Gardner stashed somewhere since Monday night, he’s doing a great job keeping her hidden.” She hit her desk with a fist. “If he hasn’t already killed her, he’s going to have to now. Easier to keep her quiet if she’s dead.”

Kincaid studied his partner. She was getting frustrated, and she was right to worry that Maddy was already dead. At this point, if someone had abducted her, the chances were much higher that she was dead than alive. But he and Carlisle didn’t operate on statistical likelihoods. Alive until proven otherwise was their tried and true method.

Right now, Judy Carlisle was thinking they had to get to Maddy quickly, before the worst happened. Kincaid said, “The kitchen at Dovetail closes at eleven-thirty. Let’s wait an hour and then sit on Michelle and Eddie’s house until he comes home. I’m guessing Michelle will stay later at the restaurant and if we can question him alone, at home, maybe he’ll crack. Because by now everyone at Dovetail knows Susan’s been murdered and Eddie’s gotta be freaked out, even if he isn’t the one who killed her. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Iverson, see what he’s got. Maybe they’ve got cause to get a search warrant.”

Carlisle let out a long breath. “Let’s get property records too. I want to know if Eddie or Michelle owns a lonely cabin in the woods.” She paused, squinting as if trying to reason something out. “What the hell is he doing with a hedge fund if he’s been caught embezzling?”

“Never convicted,” Kincaid reminded her.

“Still. Isn’t that a little like letting felons own guns?”

“Never convicted,” Kincaid repeated.

“Okay, okay. We’ll do some more research here, talk to Iverson, and sit on the Perkins home until Eddie gets back.”

“Speak of the devil,” said Kincaid a minute later, balling up his sandwich wrapper and landing it neatly in a nearby trash can. He waved at Detective Iverson as he passed a row of interior windows on his way to homicide division. Iverson pointed a finger in that direction and raised his eyebrows. Kincaid gave him a thumbs-up and stood.

“You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute. I just want to check a few more arrest records,” said Carlisle.

“Who?”

“Michelle, Susan and Susan’s boyfriend Harry.” Jerry nodded and walked away with a notebook and the dregs of his diet cherry Coke.

He found Donald Iverson and his partner Fred Tanaka in an incident room in the homicide division of the station. “Fred,” he said to Tanaka, who was tacking photos of the victim to a corkboard wall.

“What the fuck did you drag us into, Jerry?” There was no trace of an accent in the clipped tone. Fred Tanaka was a trim second-generation Japanese-American with a full head of black hair streaked through with white. He was beardless, his face almost poreless, and boyish except the deep crow’s feet around his black eyes. He was grinning at Kincaid. Tanaka liked to swear, and he liked to solve murders. “Well? What the fuck, Jerry? You get the missing woman and we get the dead one? Now you want us to solve the murder and find your girl along the way?”

“That’s what I’m hoping, Fred.”

“Piss off, Jerry,” Tanaka belly-laughed. “What have you got?”

“One of the partners at the restaurant where Susan Burns worked has a record of assault and embezzlement.”

“Who?” asked Iverson.

“Eddie Perkins. Married to Michelle Perkins.”

“That prick didn’t mention it to us,” said Iverson in disgust.

“Why would he? He was never convicted. Plus, we have a witness who saw an automobile generally matching Eddie’s car, picking up our missing person in front of her condo on Monday night. The last time she was seen.”

“Nice,” said Tanaka. “Did your witness see who was driving?”

“No such luck,” replied Kincaid.

“Still, you got a description of the car. And a time. Here’s what we got.” He opened his arms expansively, as if ready to say something profound. “Michelle and Eddie seemed surprised when we told them Susan Burns was dead. Ditto the bartender at Dovetail. Ditto the staff at Gigi’s Bistro. The boyfriend, Harry, almost fell over. No tears, but I swear to god he didn’t have anything to do with it or he should win an Oscar for his performance.”

“I’m not ruling him out,” grumbled Iverson.

“That’s why we make such a good team, Don,” Tanaka replied to his partner, “because when my general pessimism fails me, you’re there to pick up the slack.” He turned back to Kincaid. “Anyway, when Harry caught his breath, I said, ‘So, what the hell is going on at that restaurant?’”

“He looks at me, says, ‘Dovetail? I really don’t know, detective.’ So I said, ‘Look, one of the owners goes missing, then your girlfriend, the manager at that same restaurant, is murdered. What’s going on at Dovetail, Harry? What did your girlfriend tell you when she talked about work?’ And he shrugs and says, ‘Honestly, she never said anything was wrong.’ Totally blank expression on his face. No help at all.”

“Maybe Harry needs a woman’s touch,” said Carlisle, walking through the door with the two extra foot-long subs she and Kincaid had bought earlier.

“Don’t we all, Judy,” said Tanaka. “Tell me those are for us.”

“We have a turkey club and tuna on whole wheat. They’re all yours, detectives.”

Tanaka cleared enough of the table to make room for their sandwiches while Iverson went to get drinks. “We didn’t break for dinner and doing interviews in those restaurants with the smell of meat cooking on the grill and potatoes roasting in the oven almost did me in.”