Poof! Read online

  “Well, that cutie has broken my Cassie’s heart. Moved out of her apartment last week and has cut off all communication. He left a terse note saying he’d be in touch, but he hasn’t called, texted, emailed, nothing. She’s frantic. Hasn’t the faintest idea what she did or why he left. His roommate has nothing to say, or if he does, he’s not telling Cassie. “

  “Rita, hi.” The voice was familiar, the association not a pleasant one.

  “Jill, hello, dear.”

  Jill Carlson, wife of my ex-husband Robbo Carlson, popped into view and the two women exchanged air kisses. Jill then stepped back, arms spread, as if she meant to swoop in for a group hug. Her straight blonde hair was tied back and she appeared to have just stepped off the tennis court. Her white tennis skirt and sleeveless aqua singlet, showed every curve and sinew of her perfectly sculpted body. “The Steele sisters, what a surprise.”

  “Jill, hello.” I rose to shake her hand and Annie followed suit. “How’s life in the fast lane?”

  She laughed. “Fast. Brackett and Pearson is growing by leaps and bounds. You probably heard, I made partner five years ago so the load has shifted a bit. Let the young ones do the drudge work.”

  One of my stepmother’s best friends, Jill worked for a law firm specializing in patent and corporate cases, as well as international trade and acquisitions. I had not heard she had made partner nor was I terribly impressed. Robbo and I met and married in law school. Less than a year later, we divorced, due to his affair with Jill. I dropped out of school and our paths diverged with only the occasional sighting.

  “What are you up to these days, Rick? Someone told me you are some kind of investigator.”

  I nodded. “Private investigator, yes.”

  “However, did you get into that line of work?” Jill gazed from one to the other of us, presumably waiting for an invitation to sit down and catch up on the last three decades. Rita had other ideas. “Sweetie, let’s have a drink this afternoon. On the terrace, five-ish? Are you free?”

  “Should be. I’m tied up for a few hours, but by then I— “

  “Terrific. I’ll finish my golf lesson, shower and meet you there.”

  Recognizing dismissal when she saw it, Jill forced a smile. “Ladies, wonderful to see you. Rita, later.” Turning heel, she disappeared.

  Annie reached over and squeezed my hand. Her gray eyes studied me, knowing full well the pain Rob Carlson’s betrayal had caused all those years ago. I winked at her. Jill had done me a huge favor. Robbo and I would have made each other miserable.

  Oblivious, Rita waved her hand at the waitress, requesting iced tea refills. Full glasses, our meals in front of us, she resumed her tale. “My poor Cassie is frantic and I have to do something.”

  Annie gave me a quick glance. “Has she tried to contact him or his family?”

  “No, yes, I don’t know. She won’t talk to me about it except to break down and cry. She can’t work, she isn’t eating. We’ve got to do something.”

  “We?” Reluctantly, I set down my incredibly delicious portabella baguette.

  “Yes, we or you, specifically, my dear. I would like to hire you.”

  “To?”

  “To find Josh, of course.”

  “Rita, I’m happy to help, but this sounds more like a lover’s quarrel, break-up, whatever. Don’t you think you should let them work things out?”

  “Ordinarily, I would say yes, but something isn’t right and your father agrees. Josh and Cassie had been talking about marriage, children, buying a house, the whole bit. They were looking at a real cute place in Freetown, right on the lake. Josh isn’t the fibbety-gibbet type. He’s been completely dependable, until now. In fact, he’s been a steadying influence on Cassie. She’s almost finished her nursing coursework. She’s done so well with his support and encouragement.”

  “Did they quarrel?” Annie asked.

  “No, nothing like that. Ricky, please say you’ll help. Just a quick peek around. Maybe you could quietly chat with his roommate? Josh’s parents? His co-workers? See if anyone knows where he is?”

  “So, Cassie and Josh weren’t living together?”

  “No, she loves her little condo and he has a roommate. He spends many nights at her place, but they were waiting until they found the right place to move in together. Occasionally, they stay at his apartment, I think, but it’s usually her condo.”

  “The roommate is?”

  “Jimmy Chen. He roomed with Josh at Harvard. Jimmy works for Meridian Imports. Not sure what he does for them, but he hired Josh last year to do some teaching for them. Josh teaches English to their employees, I believe. He also teaches GED classes. Both are part-time jobs, but Josh is a trust fund baby so money is not an issue.”

  I exchanged looks with Annie. “Rita, I don’t know how I can help. If he’s really missing, maybe you should go to the police?” I could help, but I had a bad feeling about the whole thing and my gut was screaming no!

  “She grasped my wrist. “Please! Just a quick peek. That’s all I’m asking. It would mean so much to me, and your father. He’s worried sick, too.”

  I sincerely doubted our father was worried sick, but heard myself agree to do a little poking around, for my usual fee. She agreed immediately and pulled out a check already made out for twenty-five hundred dollars, which was a thousand dollars more than my usual retainer. Stranger things had happened, but this was right up there.

  After a tearful goodbye at the airport, I left Annie and returned home to whip up a quick salad and take a twenty-minute walk. Afterwards, dishes washed and stacked, I went to my computer to see what I could learn about Meridian Imports. I still believed Josh’s disappearance was a lovers’ quarrel, but it couldn’t hurt to gather a little background before paying a visit to Jimmy Chen, the roommate.

  Meridian’s website was colorful, but cryptic. The home page displayed a montage of their products—scarves, purses and jewelry. I was no expert, but the stuff looked like designer knock-offs. There were links to “About Us,” which was a bland paragraph touting their fair-trade practices and quality imports. Other links brought me to vague descriptions about their employee benefits and the “Contact Us” link, which listed the web address, no names, and no staff directory. Zilch.

  I was just about to click back to the home page, when I noticed tiny text in the corner, in two point, microscopic font. Squinting, I read “Represented by Brackett and Pearson” with an address and phone number. Now that was odd. Why put that on a company website? It appeared that I would be speaking to Jill Carlson again in the near future whether I liked it or not.

  Chapter 4

  Monday morning, I walked into the living room and gazed out to find fog lapping at my deck, the river completed obscured. I fed Beaky, my cat, who was meowing piteously by her food bag, then pulled on shorts, sneakers and an old gray tee shirt and headed out. My legs felt great so as soon as I reached the beach, I broke into a slow jog – the only kind I do these days. I decided to go a mile out, then circle around. As I made the turn at the boat landing, the sun was wrestling its way through the clouds, the fog lifting. When I looked up, I spied a German shepherd type dog, more like a horse dog, headed straight for me. Now I love dogs, even horse dogs, but how was I to know if the Hound of the Baskervilles meant to rip me to shreds or pass by without a glance. I braced myself as he leapt and we both went down.

  “Carter, Carter! Here boy!”

  I knew that voice, but could not see beyond the massive head. The friendly beast licked my face, my eyes cloudy with slobber.

  “Hey, he likes you!”

  Charlie Bowen grabbed hold of Carter’s collar, pulled him back, then reached out a hand to me. Flabbergasted, I rolled away and righted myself, aware that my tee shirt was scrunched up around my neck, revealing my torn gray sports bra. I normally do not wear bras any more, except when jogging, thank God! My hair was a rat’s nest and caked with sand.

  Vainly I endeavored to pull myself together, a hopeless cause.
“Mr. Bowen, we meet again.”

  A beautiful, open smile played round his deep blue eyes. “Charlie, please. Good morning, is this your usual running time?”

  “I don’t have a usual time, and you really can’t call what I do running.”

  “Too bad or I’d try to coordinate. Or, you can agree to have dinner with me.”

  “Is this your usual modis operandi when you move into a neighborhood?”

  “Hard to say. I’ve moved around a lot the past few decades. Have never had a neighborhood.”

  “I’m kind of busy this week.”

  He nodded, eyes studying me. He had an unnerving gaze, warm and intimate.

  “Okay, if I keep asking?”

  His question took me back and I stared dumbly for several minutes before replying. “I guess that’d be okay.”

  “Great, and thanks. Michaela told me you guys spoke.”

  I nodded. “She sounds terrific. Happy to have her come see us.”

  “She’s keyed.”

  “We can always use an extra pair of hands, particularly someone who’s organized.”

  He grinned. “Carter and I are just heading down the beach. Wanna take a second jog or walk?”

  “I can’t. I have work.” I bent down to pet the horse dog, who immediately began licking my hand, arm, leg, any exposed part of me. “This is quite a beast. What kind is he?”

  “German shepherd mix. Maybe some great dane or lab. He’s a rescue. Found him as a pup when I was traveling. No papers.”

  “He’s a sweetheart,” I said, as Carter’s eyes rolled back, in ecstasy. “Did you name him?”

  “For Jimmy Carter.”

  “He’s my favorite president, at least in my lifetime.”

  “Mine, too,” he said quietly, eyes studying me.

  “Well, I’ve gotta go and I’ll bet Carter’s eager to get moving.”

  “I don’t know. He seems pretty taken with you.”

  “Well, see you guys around.”

  “We’ll make sure of it, won’t we boy? Have a good day, Ms. Steele.”

  “Ricky, please.”

  “Okay, but no Mr. Bowen either, okay?”

  “Deal,” I said, smiling in spite of the warning bells sounding in my head. There was either a fierce attraction going on here, or I was so sex deprived I’d lost all reason. “Nice to see you,” I added and was rewarded by another wide grin and more slobber from you know who.

  Chapter 5

  Once home, I showered, dressed in jeans and a clean tee shirt, ate a bowl of Muesli, then headed out. Rita had given me the address for Josh and Jimmy’s apartment. It was in a small restored three-decker in one of the city’s neighborhoods currently under siege by wealthy, young Boston professionals. The new train made their commute doable and real estate here was a tenth of what they’d pay in Boston.

  I parked and took the steps to the front door. The outer door was unlocked so I stepped in and found the buzzer labeled Chen. I was about the press the button when a woman in a suit, briefcase in her hand, pushed open the inner door. I nodded and slipped in as if I knew where I was going. They’d done a pretty good job with renovations, and had preserved all the dark trim and crown molding. Someone took good care of this building. The small lobby was clean and well lit. An elevator at the far end stood open, but I decided to take the stairs.

  Street sounds were muffled as I climbed. By the time I reached the third floor, I was enveloped in silence. I took a deep breath and knocked. Scuffling from within told me someone was at home. After several minutes the door opened and a short, slender Asian man, mid-thirties appeared. “Yeah?”

  “I’m looking for Josh Peabody’s. Is he in?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “My name’s Ricky Steele. I’m a private investigator. Are you Jimmy Chen?”

  “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but yeah, I’m Jimmy.”

  So friendly. I was sure to get lots of helpful information from this charmer. It appeared that he had just stepped out of the shower. He wore a purple velour bathrobe trimmed in satin and had a towel wrapped round his neck. His feet were bare.

  “Might I come in for a minute? I’m happy to wait if you were in the middle of dressing.”

  “Suit yourself, but only for a minute. I’ve gotta get to work.”

  “Is Josh here?” I asked, following him into an attractive living room finished with buttery leather sofas and what appeared to be antiques or decent reproductions. A thick Kilim rug covered the wide pine floor and the off-white window shades looked expensive.

  He plopped down on one of the sofas, waving his hand inviting me to sit on the other. “Nope.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “Nope.”

  “But you live and work together. Isn’t that strange?”

  “Nope.”

  “Mr. Chen.”

  “Jimmy, please.”

  “Jimmy, when was the last time you saw Josh?”

  He paused to do a ridiculous pantomime of thinking. He knew damn well when he’d last seen his roommate, but he sure as hell wasn’t telling me. He shrugged. “Maybe a couple of days ago.”

  “Could you possibly be a little more specific?”

  “Aren’t you a little old for this line of work? What’re you, on the dark side of forty?”

  I silently counted to twenty, taking slow deep breaths. “If I had a dime for every time someone has said that to me. Now, about Josh?”

  “He told me he needed to get out of town for a couple of days. Maybe to his parents’ house in Windy Harbor or somewhere else?”

  “Somewhere else?”

  He shrugged. “I’m his roommate, not his babysitter.”

  Deciding that a change of subject was in order, I asked. “You both work for Meridian Imports, do you not?”

  “I work for Meridian. Josh teaches the GED classes. There are a bunch of sites around the city. The company sponsors them as a community service.”

  “Well, if he went away, who’s teaching his classes?”

  “They have subs who fill in.”

  “So, you don’t teach?”

  He laughed. “Not my thing.”

  “Well, what is your thing?”

  “I’m in sales.”

  “What can you tell me about Meridian?”

  “Successful import company, very civic minded. They believe in giving back to the community.”

  “Is Josh paid for his teaching?”

  He nodded. “But don’t ask me how much cause that’s not my area. Now, I hate to break up this little tete-a-tete, but I’ve gotta get to work.”

  “Who owns Meridian?”

  “I said, that’s enough, lady.” He stood and went to the door, opening it wide, and waving his arm. “Out you go. Go play private eye someplace else.”

  I pulled out one of my cards and handed it to him. “If you see or hear from Josh, please ask him to be in touch.” I suspected the second he closed the door, my card would be in the trash.

  Chapter 6

  I headed to my office and met Wilda on the stairs. “Were you following me?” I asked.

  “A dodgy neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, well I’m going to a dodgier one this afternoon,” I said, telling her about Meridian and the warehouse that housed the school and who knew what else.

  “Okay,” she said. “Good to know.”

  Wilda was a woman of few words. Today she was dressed in her uniform, black skinny jeans, tee shirt that appeared to have been painted on and strappy sandals with five-inch heels. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a braid that reached the middle of her back. A black baseball cap hung from the strap of her giant black leather purse. She followed me into the office and sat at a desk we had recently poached from one of the vacant offices. My office is on the third floor of a cavernous mill building. Outlets shops occupy the first floor, the second floor is mostly vacant, and there are seven tenants including me on the third floor. A few of us are steady tenants, but s
ome of the offices turn over regularly. They often leave good stuff behind. We wait a decent interval to see if someone will collect the remaining items, then assume they are free for the picking.

  “We might be getting a part-time employee,” I said. “She’s actually volunteering to learn about the business. Since Janice ran out on me, this place has gone to wrack and ruin.”

  Wilda chuckled, the sound deep, throaty.

  “Well, greater wrack and ruin then. Anyway, if this kid comes, maybe I’ll put her to work filing, typing, that kind of stuff. What’dya think.”

  “Your business.”

  “Think we could fit another small desk or table in here?”

  “Probably.”

  “I think there are still a few pieces of furniture in the architect’s office. Maybe I’ll check later.”

  Wilda rose. “I’ll do it.”

  Five minutes later she returned carrying an oak desk and chair. The desk was small, but it looked as if it weighed at least a hundred pounds. Wilda was carrying it like a beach chair. I shook my head and pointed to the corner. “That’ll be the best place. Did you see any lighting fixtures?”

  “No, but I’ll take a look.”

  She returned holding an attractive desk lamp with green glass shade in one hand and a wrought iron floor lamp with a woven shade.

  “Wow, classy,” I said, taking the items. I placed the lamp on our new desk and the floor lamp beside the table holding the coffee pot and microwave. “All and all, a fine day’s scrounge,” I said, grinning at my enigmatic associate.

  She nodded and I headed into my office, the Inner Sanctum we called it. It had a bank of windows, my desk and a few filing cabinets. Unlike the outer office, it was a colossal mess. Too discouraged to sit down, I did an about face. “Hey, Wilda, I’m gonna get some lunch. Want anything?”

  “Thanks, I’m good.”

  That was another thing about Wilda. She ate only healthy food. She never cheated. Ever.

  I walked down to Dino’s, just around the corner. It’s a typical greasy spoon, but his soups are relatively healthy. I ordered a cup of minestrone soup and a chicken salad sandwich and felt healthier already. Dino brought me a huge iced tea without my asking. I guess I’m just that predictable.