Poof! Page 3
“Hey Rick, how’s tricks? No Dino Deluxe today?” He referred to the diner’s specialty, an enormous burger with lettuce, tomato, onions and mushrooms, smothered in his special sauce. I dreamed about Dino Deluxes.
“Not that hungry, I guess.”
“When are you not hungry?”
“When I’m trying to eat healthy, if you must know.”
“Oh, boy, who’s the lucky guy?” Dino grinned and slipped into the booth opposite me. About my age, maybe a hair older or younger, he had a full head of salt and pepper hair and a compact, muscular frame, that belied the twelve plus hours he worked in the diner surrounded by greasy, artery clogging food. I suspect Lois, his wife, keeps his eating in check. They make terrific salads, though I seldom order them.
Lois was behind the counter, clearly miffed that her husband had taken a break when the diner was packed. A short, attractive redhead, she also appeared to steer clear of burgers and fries. I waved and she smiled, frowning at Dino.
“There’s no guy. I just felt like chicken salad today.”
“Yeah, and I’m the Easter Bunny.”
“Ha, ha. There’s no guy, I’m just trying to change my diet a bit.”
“Feeling your age, huh?”
“I think that’s your cue. Lois is not happy.”
He turned and Lois beckoned. “Gotta go, Rick. Bring your guy in soon.”
I scowled, taking a bite of a delicious chicken salad. My expression was lost on Dino, who was now behind the counter receiving a tongue lashing. Way to go, Lois!
Chapter 7
After lunch, I forced myself into my office and spent an hour or so cleaning and organizing. Wilda had disappeared. Finally, satisfied that I could function at my desk, I did a computer search for the Peabodys in Windy Harbor. I quickly found an address and phone for Jacob Peabody. They lived at the Bluffs, an exclusive gated community of million dollar homes just south of the Harbor. I dialed the number and a woman answered.
“Mrs. Peabody?”
“Mrs. Peabody is not at home. Can I take a message?”
“How about Mr. Peabody or their son, Josh?”
“To whom am I speaking?”
I took a deep breath and decided honesty might be the best policy. “Ricky Steele. I’m a private investigator looking into Josh’s disappearance.”
Dead silence.
“Hello, are you still there?”
“To my knowledge, Josh has not disappeared.”
“So, you’ve seen him recently, Ms.?”
“Listen, Ms. Steele, I’m only the housekeeper and I don’t feel comfortable answering your questions.”
“When will Mrs. Peabody be home?”
“I’m not sure. She’s a busy lady. If you leave a message, I’ll make sure she gets it.”
Yeah right. I gave the nameless housekeeper my phone number and rang off, reasonably certain I would not be hearing from the busy Mrs. Peabody. Clearly, a trip to the Bluffs would be necessary.
I grabbed my bag and headed out. I had the address of Meridian and decided to cruise by on my way home. Vinnie, Maddie, Fulty and I were having dinner together, and as usual, I had not picked up my contribution—wine and dessert. I stopped at a package store around the corner, then intending to stop at the Creamery for several cartons of ice cream after my drive by the Meridian warehouse.
I turned down Water Street, passing several mill buildings on either side, some renovated, others abandoned, windows broken or boarded up. I checked the address and found the building halfway down the block. A small sign, Meridian Imports, hung over a door at the far end of the building. I pulled over and hopped out. The street was deserted and quiet for a weekday.
I decided the best approach would be to start with the front door. I pushed the buzzer and a woman's voice said, "Meridian, can I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Ricky Steele. I wanted to find out a little about Meridian's products. Is there anyone in who could speak with me?"
She buzzed me in. "Come on up. Turn right at the top of the stairs. We're in the first office."
A short, wisp of a woman in cherry red suit, black stilettos and a crisp white blouse waited at the top of the stairs. She appeared to be in her twenties, maybe early thirties, her dark red hair pulled back in a tight chignon. "Hello, welcome to Meridian. I'm Nancy, follow me."
She led me into a light-filled office with three desks, one of which was occupied by another woman of similar vintage, her wardrobe more subdued. Brown slacks, beige top and flats. Her straight blonde shoulder length hair was tucked behind her large ears. She looked up from her computer screen, giving me a slight nod then returned to her work.
Nancy waved in her colleague’s direction. "That's Betty. She's our computer wiz."
I would have liked a long chat with Betty, but instead followed Nancy to her desk and sat as she pulled out several catalogues. "Are you buying for a retail store?"
"Yes," I said, flashing her my best shopkeeper smile. "I own the Driftwood Boutique in Windy Harbor. Do you know it?"
With a glance at Betty, she said, "No, I don't think so. It sounds nice though." How could she since it was as phony as my retailer persona?
I had no doubt that Betty was googling the Driftwood Boutique and would soon discover that I was lying. I had to work fast before Nancy booted me out of the building. "Would Mr. Pullman or Mr. Winter be in today?
"I afraid not."
Betty closer to her computer screen.
“When could I catch them?”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t say. They keep their own appointment books. Perhaps if you leave a message?”
Yeah, right, she looked really sorry. “That’s okay. I’ll come back on another day.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Betty’s slight nod to her colleague. I was busted.
“Ms. Steele, we’re very busy today and very selective about our clients. I’m going to have to get back to you about your shop. Would you have a card? I could have someone to call you?”
“Gee, my cards are in my other purse, but here’s my cell, if you think we can do business.” As I scribbled my number on a slip of paper and handed it to her, I decided to take a chance. “One more question, one of your employees, a family friend, Josh Peabody recommended Meridian to me. Would Josh be around today?”
“I’m sorry, who?”
Betty turned away and began rustling papers.
“His roommate, Jimmy Chen, who I believe also works for Meridian, thought I might find him here?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Steele, but I have absolutely no idea who either of those people are. Betty, have you heard of them?”
Back to us now, Betty shook her head.
“What about the school? Is it in session now?”
“School? I think you must have us mistaken for some other place. Now, we really are very busy today.”
My head was spinning and I felt as if I’d stepped into an alternate universe. “So, sorry, I’d better check my facts next time. I apologize for bothering you.”
A smile plastered on my face, I said goodbye. Assuming the building had more than one entrance, I decided to circle the block. I found three more doors, all locked. As I completed my circuit, coming around the mill’s north side, I nearly ran into a bicyclist. Looking up, I was shocked to find Charlie Bowen staring down at me.
“Oh, my God! You could have killed me.”
“Sorry, you came out of nowhere.”
“Are you following me?”
He laughed. “And why would I do that?”
Why indeed? I realized I must look like a deranged idiot. “I don’t know. What are you doing riding your bike so far from home?”
“Commuting.”
“Oh?”
Charlie cleaned up well. In biking shorts and a tee shirt, he looked smokin’ hot. He had shaved and his face wasn’t covered with soot and sawdust. His beautiful blue eyes held mine and I found it impossible to look away.
“I volunteer at the Clinic around the corner.”
“What do you do at the Clinic?”
“Oh, you know, whatever they need. Clean up, trash, anything. What are you doing down here?”
I regarded him for a minute, then said. “I’m looking for someone. Don’t ‘spose you’ve ever run into a Josh Peabody?”
“Name doesn’t sound familiar. Does he live around here?”
“No, but he’s gone missing and I’ve been asked to find him. He works in this building.” I pointed to the small sign. “Do you know anything about the company that owns this building? Meridian Imports?”
“Not a thing, but don’t forget, I’ve only been here for a short time. I can ask around if you like.”
“That would be really helpful, thanks.”
“Wanna grab coffee or something.”
“I can’t. I’ve got plans.”
“Yeah, I should probably get going too.”
“See ya.”
“Still hoping for that dinner,” he said, giving me one of his knee buckling smiles.
“You an optimist, aren’t you?”
“Always. See you round the neighborhood.”
I waved as he hopped on his bike. I knew I should invite him for dinner. Vinnie, Maddie and Fulty would be delighted, but those alarm bells were ringing. He was much too cute. Heartbreak would certainly be right around the corner. Besides, he can’t come to dinner—he’s headed to work. The late shift by the looks of it. So, I was right to say nothing.
Chapter 8
“Remember, Fulty, not much gin and lots of lime.” My shouted words fell on deaf ears as our host mixed a second round of gin and tonics. Vinnie and I were manning the grill.
“What’s that doll?” Fulty said, as he filled my glass three quarters full of Tanqueray before adding ice cubes and a splash of tonic. Except for his hearing, Fulty was spry and sharp as a tack. Always tanned from May to September, he wore his signature shorts and Hawaiian shirt tonight. Maddie, his wife, a little wisp of a thing, had always reminded me of the actress Jessica Tandy. Tonight, she was dressed in a plaid housecoat that she had no doubt purchased in the nineteen-fifties.
Vinnie grinned, flipping the bluefish. “Leave him be, Rick. You can pour it over the porch rail and add tonic while he’s not looking,”
“But, it’s such a waste.”
“They have cases of the stuff.”
Maddie tottered over with a plate of deviled eggs and we both took one. On her second martini, she was already three sheets to the wind.
“Thanks, Mad,” I said. “Want me to take those?”
“I’m gonna sit awhile and let you youngsters pass, okay?”
“Perfect,” I said, smiling as I took the plate from her. She took a seat in one of their rockers and raised her glass in toast.
“She’s a goner,” Vinnie whispered, although he could have shouted. They were both deaf as posts. Fulty had perfected the art of the one-sided conversation. Fortunately, he was bright, funny and interesting. A great reader and inveterate consumer of news programs as long as they had close captioning, he had strong, well-informed opinions on almost any subject.
“Here you go, kids,” Fulty said, handing us our drinks. “I think I’ll join my bride if you’ve got this covered.
“No prob, Fult,” Vinnie said, nodding and gesturing to get his point across.
When the Stockmans were settled, I turned back to the grill. “Saw your buddy today.”
“Who’s that?”
“Charlie Bowen.”
“Oh, yeah? You two been out then? I invited him tonight, but he was busy.”
“You what?”
“Charlie’s really interested in you, you know.”
“No, he isn’t. He just wants me to take his daughter on as an apprentice. Can you believe it? After all the money, they shelled out for medical school, the kid wants to be a PI.”
“Sounds like you and law school.”
“Ha, ha.”
“Well the daughter thing is bullshit, Rick. He’s definitely interested.”
“How do you know? You’ve known him for what, a week?”
“I know people, Rick, and I know chemistry when I see it. If you two aren’t hot for each other, then no one is.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“He’s a great guy. Much better than the bums you usually drag home.”
“Can we please change the subject?”
“Sure thing, babe, but Charlie’s good people. Trust me.”
“Same subject.”
“Just give him a chance, will ya?”
“Thank you, Yenta. Now can we please talk about something else?”
“Our hosts are takin’ a little cat nap so shoot.”
“Have you ever heard of Meridian Imports?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
“I’ve been asked to locate one of their employees, Josh Peabody. He’s my sister’s boyfriend.”
“Lovers spat.?”
“Maybe, but I promised her mother I’d look for him.”
“Isn’t your stepmother some kind of whack job?”
I chuckled. Vinnie had heard too many stories about Rita and my father. “Sort of... maybe... but she seems genuinely concerned. My step sister is a basket case apparently.”
“What does she say?”
“Nothing, cause Mommy Dearest doesn’t want Cassie to know she hired me.”
“What’s the guy do at this Meridian place?”
“He teaches English to non-Native speakers.”
“So, Meridian is a school?”
“Not really. They apparently run the classes as a community service. They’re some kind of import company. Their building’s on Water Street. I checked out their website and wasn’t terribly impressed with their wares.”
“If they’re importing a bunch of crap, they’re probably smuggling something. Most of those places are. Want me to ask around?”
“Would you? That’d be great. Thanks.”
“Fish is ready. Should we let sleeping dogs lie?”
“No, they’d be so disappointed. I’ll wake ‘em while you load up the plates.”
Chapter 9
I allowed myself a slow start to my day in deference to a pounding headache, no doubt thanks to Fulty’s cocktail mixing wizardry. It was close to ten when I hopped in the car for the trip to Windy Harbor. I had not heard from Josh Peabody’s mom – no surprise there – so I decided popping in might be best. My Dad and Rita had a summer place at the Bluffs, a wealthy oceanside enclave about twenty minutes from the city. I called and asked Rita to alert the Bluffs gatekeeper that I was coming. A guest tag awaited me as I arrived and was waved in by the friendly gatekeeper.
Armed with the house and street number, I made a show of heading towards my father’s place, which was on the development’s north side, then veered south once I was out of sight. After several wrong turns, I found Heron Way and headed down to number twenty-two which was on the ocean side. I rounded a corner and there it was—the Magic Kingdom. My jaw dropped as I stared up at the massive white castle on the bluff complete with turrets, about a hundred chimneys and a slate roof that stretched for miles in either direction. I half expected Sleeping Beauty to poke her head out of one of the turret windows.
Fortunately, the gate to the home’s twenty-foot-high iron fence stood open. One less hurdle for yours truly. A cherry red Mercedes coupe was parked in the circular drive, but no one appeared to be about. I parked on the street, walked up the drive to the front door, and rang the bell. After several minutes, the door swung open and a middle-aged woman in pencil skirt, creamy silk blouse and sensible heels appeared. Her hair was cut short, obviously dyed coppery brown. In my opinion, the hair color and shirt, bunched up around at her ample waist, were not becoming, but what I know about fashion could be written on the head of a pin.
“Can I help you?”
I recognized her voice—the housekeeper.
“Is Mrs. Peabody at home?”
“You’re that private investi
gator, aren’t you? How did you get in? The gateman didn’t ring.”
“No, I was in the neighborhood visiting so I thought I’d stop by.”
“Well, people don’t just stop by at the Bluffs. Residents pay a great deal of money to protect their privacy. I’ll have to ask you to leave, now.”
“Just five minutes. I’d think Mrs. Peabody would want to know that her son is safe.”
“How do you know she doesn’t? Now, please, Ms. Steele, if you go now, I won’t call the guard to escort you out.”
A door opened at the far end of the vestibule. “Isabel, is everything all right?”
“Yes, Madam, someone asking for directions.”
I recognized that it was now or never. “Mrs. Peabody, please. Just five minutes of your time. It’s about Josh!”
“Why of all the nerve,” Isabel said, closing the door. I put my foot out, stopping her.
“How dare you! I’m calling the gatehouse,” she said, eyes blazing.
“That’s enough, Izzie. Let her in.”
The housekeeper opened the door and stepped back. A tall slender ash blonde in sage green linen slacks and sleeveless blouse stood regarding me, one hand on her hip, the other holding a stack of papers. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties, hair and make-up understated and elegant. “Come through, Ms. Steele.”
She led the way into a small sitting room with an attached greenhouse, beyond which a large expanse of lawn stretched to the bluffs and the ocean beyond. “Sit, please.”
She took one of two armchairs covered in muted floral silk and I its match.
“I’m sorry to barge in, but I’ve been asked to look into Josh’s disappearance and I would assume that you’d want to know his whereabouts as well.”
She gave me a quizzical look. “Who says Josh is missing?”
“His girlfriend, Cassie.”
“Well, that’s absurd. Maybe they’ve had a spat. She’s a little high strung. Do you know her?”
“She’s my stepsister.”
“Oh?”