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“She also skirted the original question you asked her about how she and Lenny get along. Do you think they do a fair amount of fighting where Mike can overhear them?”
There was no use evading this any longer. “Probably. They certainly did when I lived here.”
Which was likely the real reason Sara had moved out. “Let’s try a scenario on for size,” Kincaid said, leading her outside. “Let’s assume that Meg and Lenny had a quarrel that Mike overheard. Perhaps the boy was upset, so Lenny decided to take him on that surprise trip, maybe while Meg left to run errands. Maybe Lenny wanted to worry her so she’d stop picking on him.” They reached his silver Explorer, and Kincaid turned to face her. “And maybe he intends to return after he thinks she’s learned her lesson.”
“Or maybe not,” Sara said, unconvinced. “Look, I don’t think Lenny wants to leave the Golden Goose. With the police department, he’s got a real job with potential, for a change, but obviously he hasn’t worked very hard to keep it or he wouldn’t have gotten suspended. He’s got it pretty good over here, so I’m not sure he’d risk getting Meg too angry.”
“Because she controls the money?”
Squinting in the glare, Sara slipped on her sunglasses. “Oh, yes. She’s told me she has him give her his entire paycheck, such as it is, then takes care of all the bills and gives him a monthly allowance, if you can believe it. If he runs out of money before the month ends, too bad. She used to give me an allowance when I lived with them, before I got a job and before I came into my own inheritance. I don’t know if she’s afraid the money will run out or whether it’s a means of control.”
“I vote for door number two.” Kincaid helped her into the Explorer before walking around and sliding behind the wheel.
“I just remembered,” Sara began, “Lenny came to me several weeks ago and wanted to borrow some money. Twenty thousand. I asked him why he wanted that much, and he said it was for some kind of investment opportunity, a sure thing. I’ve never trusted that sort of thing, so I turned him down and told him to ask Meg for the money. He said no, he couldn’t do that, and asked me not to mention his request to his wife.”
“Did you tell Meg?”
“No.”
“It seems as if we’ve discovered a motive for Lenny’s disappearance—to get away from a nagging, frugal wife. But why take the boy?”
“That’s what bothers me. I don’t buy this father-son quality time Meg mentioned. Lenny was hardly a hands-on father except when it suited him.” Leaning back, Sara closed her eyes. What a mess. She wished Lenny was here right now so she could punch him for using Mike to play games.
Rubbing her forehead, where a headache was beginning, she felt defeated. “I guess you’ll chalk this up as another domestic feud, eh?”
He probably should, Kincaid knew. But a couple of things worried him. First, the boy’s mother didn’t seem nearly as upset over her son’s disappearance as his aunt was. Instead Meg was vague and defensive, downright belligerent to the people who were trying to help her. Secondly, Sara Morgan didn’t strike him as someone who’d blow a situation out of proportion. She seemed genuinely worried.
Maybe it would turn out to be a wild-goose chase. Despite his reluctance, if there was the slightest chance that the smiling boy was in danger, Kincaid felt he should try. After all, he did have the time.
“Not just yet.” He started the motor. “I’d like to talk with Lenny’s superior officer at the Mesa Police Department first. Want to come along?”
Hope flared in her just that easily. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
For the life of him, Kincaid didn’t know what impulse made him ask her along. Could it be those big blue eyes imploring him?
Lieutenant James Anderson was a stocky, ruddy-faced man in shirtsleeves and paisley suspenders. He looked at Kincaid’s ID and quickly ushered them into his office, closing the door.
“I’ve heard of you, Detective Kincaid. You do good work.” Anderson sat down in his swivel chair. “I was sorry to hear about that case where—”
“Thank you,” Kincaid interrupted quickly. He had no intention of going into that.
“What can I do for you?”
He introduced Sara. “Her sister, Meg, is married to Lenny Nelson. I believe he works out of this precinct?”
The chair squeaked in protest as the big man leaned back. “Used to. He’s on suspension.”
“So I heard, for improprieties, I understand. Could you be more specific, sir?”
The lieutenant’s hooded eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”
Quickly Kincaid explained the major points. “Naturally, we respect the confidentiality of the people involved, but I need to know if Lenny Nelson could pose a danger to his son. As I mentioned, they’ve been gone for several days, and no one knows their whereabouts, not even the boy’s mother.”
Anderson frowned as he shifted forward and checked a folder. “Nelson’s supposed to appear next Monday for an internal affairs hearing.” He sat for a moment, thoughtful. “I assume this goes no further?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Nelson’s facing allegations that he stole property from the evidence room and sold it. All from old, unsolved cases, mostly forgotten, growing dusty in bins. Been going on awhile, from what we’ve determined so far.”
A man apparently in need of money for whatever purpose, unable to pry more loose from his tight-fisted wife, probably not earning a great deal, stealing and fencing, facing a likely indictment, Kincaid enumerated to himself. That kind of man could be desperate, volatile, unpredictable.
And he was off somewhere with an innocent twelve-year-old boy.
He glanced at Sara and saw she’d turned pale as she, too, had come to the same conclusion.
“And if Lenny doesn’t show up for his hearing?” Sara asked.
“We’ll get a judge to issue a bench warrant for his arrest,” Anderson said.
“Thank you, sir,” Kincaid said, rising and shaking hands. Hand on her elbow, he led Sara out of the office. Walking near the bull pen, he spotted a desk with Lenny’s name on it, although another uniformed officer was sitting there.
On a hunch he stopped. “Excuse me, but are you a friend of Lenny Nelson?” he asked.
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.”