The Missing Link, page 11
Johanna took steps to exit out the rear yard, the fresh air was welcome. “Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Carson.”
He grunted.
“She was nice, but he was an asshole.”
Johanna stopped. He had not taken the binoculars down.
“Mr. Carson, do you know how I can get in touch with Leslie? Her family is looking for her.”
“All of a sudden people are trying to find Leslie.” He put the glasses in his lap and scrutinized her. “The police were here a couple of days ago—now you. She doesn’t know anything about the man’s murder, so leave her alone.”
Johanna raised an eyebrow and reached inside her purse to pull out a business card. She set in on a side table.
“Mr. Carson, I am sure it was the police who told you Phillip Nava was murdered. From what you tell me, it sounds as if you’ve been in contact with Leslie since then. Please, tell her I have a message from her grandfather.” She paused. “I’ll leave now. I want to help her. I don’t bring any trouble with me.”
He grunted again, and returned the binoculars to his eyes.
Johanna looked around the café and spotted Ava in the corner near the entrance to the restrooms. She slid into the chair.
“Sorry I’m late. But I had an appointment with Leslie’s neighbors. They don’t know where she is either . . . maybe.”
The server hurriedly dropped off two cups of steaming coffee and a small bowl containing assorted sugars and cream.
“It’s okay. I spent the morning with Eric’s parents,” Ava said. “I had to be careful. It was clear they had no word from him. They didn’t know he was missing until they were interviewed by the police. I told them I had come by to check on them.” She put her hands around the cup and stared into the liquid. “From our conversation it was clear they had no idea he was in any danger. Evidently, he told them we were going to Hawaii together and I was continuing on.” Ava took a long sip. “They were already worried. His mom kept squeezing my hand. I told them Eric always landed on his feet and it was likely he didn’t even know people were looking for him. He wasn’t great at staying in touch. I told them I wouldn’t leave for Australia until I knew he was safe,” her voice drifted off into space.
Johanna let a silence settle between them, and then spoke. “Ava, you’re right, there’s a good chance Eric is off doing his Eric thing.” Johanna reached across the table to cover her friend’s hand. “Two weeks from now, this will be behind you. Please, how can I help?”
Ava pulled back her hand.
“Speaking of help, Johanna, are you still ‘helping’ Luden?” Ava said with a biting tone and air quotes.
A frown flitted across Johanna’s face.
“I’m helping him to connect with his granddaughter. Why?”
“He’s responsible for Eric’s disappearance.”
“Why would you say that?” Johanna couldn’t stop her voice from rising. “You don’t know it’s the truth.”
Ava turned away looking over her shoulder out the window. She spoke as if there was no one sitting in front of her.
“Have you asked yourself, why he sounds so earnest to find his granddaughter—now?” An unsmiling Ava turned to face Johanna. “I mean it wasn’t until you approached him about Leslie contacting you that he remembered he even had a granddaughter.” She leaned in. “Eric was probably looking for leads—maybe it did sound like blackmail to someone. Eric could have been overzealous, and . . . and . . . wonder if he’s dead.” Tears glazed her eyes.
“He’s not dead, Ava. He’s a survivor,” Johanna said as much to herself as her friend. “I understand why you might be skeptical about Carl Luden. And it’s possible that I could have been taken in by him. But he had nothing to do with Eric. Remember, Eric didn’t even know how to contact Luden without searching for someone who might know him.”
“Maybe so, Dean said the police can’t locate Eric. It’s like he’s dropped off radar.” Ava rubbed her forehead. “This whole thing is so convoluted with Luden and his vanishing granddaughter. It brings a whole other aspect to what’s been happening. Did you ever consider that your determination to chase down your reluctant client is because you just want to cater to your ideal of being a savior . . . a . . . a knight in training, with silver armor sweeping in to save the day.”
“A knight in training! I don’t deserve that.”
They stared at each other for a long moment and then Ava’s eyes filled.
“No, you don’t. I’m sorry. I’m just so worried I . . .”
“You’re wrong.” Johanna gave her friend a mischievous smile. “I’m already a full knight.”
Ava couldn’t stifle her chuckle.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Johanna, startled at the hand placed on her shoulder, looked up.
“Nick!” She called out, and quickly shut down her laptop hoping he hadn’t noticed her screen.
His warm brown eyes looked amused as he took the chair in front of her desk. She tried her best not to show her pleasure at seeing him.
“Hi. Marty said I could come back to your office.” He nodded toward the computer. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, not at all, I was just deep in thought writing up notes. It’s been a few days since we’ve talked.”
“I plan on explaining. Can I pull you away for lunch?”
She hesitated only a moment. Work could wait, or at least be postponed for a little break.
“Yes, I’m starving.” She stood and came from around her desk. “How about we go to Murray’s? We can walk and I’d love a pizza.”
“So would I.”
They stood together and hugged.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she responded.
Nick gave her a squeeze and a long look. “Wow, for once my timing must be right on.” A wide grin spread across his face. “Let’s not waste a minute. Let’s go.”
Small talk filled the next minutes. Their footsteps fell into a matching cadence as they strode down the sidewalk for the short three blocks.
“You’ve been busy,” Johanna said. “I saw your name in the paper— the interstate fraud case?”
“Yeah, that one taught me a lot.”
She bit back a response and instead “Sounds like you’re enjoying your work.”
“Yeah, I am. Look Johanna, I know I haven’t . . .”
He stepped around a harried looking woman pushing a wheeled cart.
She held up her hand. “No explanation needed.” She smiled pointing to the door. “Besides, we’re here. Let’s enjoy lunch.”
Murray’s was half-empty and the pungent smell of Parmesan coupled with seasoned tomato sauce greeted them as they entered. Nick nodded toward a red leather booth in the rear. Johanna followed.
“Ready to order?” a server appeared with flatware and napkins while they were getting settled.
“I want a mini pepperoni and sausage.” Johanna said pushing the menu aside. “And, just water.”
Nick nodded. “I’ll have the same.”
The server tucked the menus under her arms as she tapped the order into a handheld and walked to the beverage service.
Johanna turned to look Nick in the eyes.
“So detective, tell me why you really came to see me.”
He shook his head. “I honestly thought lunch with a . . . a friend was called for.” A smile hovered on his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“Nah, a casual visit during the day, and no beer order?” She tilted her head. “Nope, you’re on duty. I agree, this is an overdue lunch, but I have no doubt you’re working.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t it be both?”
“You mean, kill two birds with one stone?” She waved her hand over the table. “As one of the birds, excuse me if I’m not excited about you squeezing me into your busy day.” She didn’t try to hide the slight disappointment in her own voice.
“Johanna, I—”
“I’m sorry that’s not fair.” She shook her head and gave him a weak smile. “Do me a favor, let’s get the work agenda out of the way. What do you want to know?”
He looked down at his hands and shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak at the same time their pizza was delivered. Johanna reached over immediately and put two slices on her plate.
“Yes? What is it?”
She took a bite. Nick followed her lead.
“We understand you’ve been in contact with Carl Luden.”
Johanna noticed it was not a question.
“Yes, I’m helping him find his granddaughter, Leslie Todd. I said I’d use my research to reunite them. But I’m not having much luck.”
“Isn’t that a little outside of your . . . your ancestry search skill set?”
She thoughtfully took another bite. “Have you been talking to Ava?”
“Yes, she thinks he’s responsible for Eric Lowell’s . . . let’s say unresponsiveness.” He paused, taking a sip of his water. “We want to talk to Luden and to Lowell.”
“You’re not alone. Ava hasn’t been able to talk to, or find Eric, for the past days. He always kept in touch with her.” Johanna returned his gaze. “I don’t know where Luden is, Detective. He’s the one that gets in touch with me—not me with him.”
Slowly finishing a pizza slice, Nick dabbed his mouth with a napkin. She pushed down her mounting impatience. He leaned back in his chair.
“She told us that’s what you think. We’re not sure about the timing. Putting that aside, we have additional interests in Luden. He may be a lynch pin in other . . . activities. Lowell’s disappearance is just the latest question mark.”
“Maybe if you could protect him from the real bad guys, he would come forward.”
“We can. I’d appreciate it if you let me know when he gets in touch with you.” Nick’s voice held tension. “When Luden contacts you, tell him we’ll shield him . . . if he cooperates.”
Johanna nodded.
“All right I will.”
They fell into silence. Johanna grabbed the other pizza slice on her plate and quickly made short work of it. Nick raised his eyebrows.
“You were hungry.”
Wiping her lips, she returned his smile. Nick reached for her hand.
“Johanna, I—”
She opened her mouth to speak, but Nick shook his head.
“No, this time let me talk.” He squeezed her fingers. “I really like you and I don’t want this . . . this case, or any case, to come between us. I was wrong to combine work with pleasure. Will you give me another chance to ask you out? I’ll fix you dinner.”
“You can cook?” It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “All this time you never told me.”
“Ah, I’m glad I still have some secrets.”
“How can I refuse?”
“Good. Are you available on Saturday?”
She grinned and nodded.
Nick took out his wallet, shaking his head when Johanna reached for her purse.
“I’ve got to get back.” He placed bills on top of the check. “At the risk of destroying a very nice lunch, there is something I want to tell you.”
“This was a very nice lunch.” Johanna smiled broadly. She placed her purse straps over her shoulders. “What is it you want to tell me?”
“We know the whereabouts of Leslie Todd.”
Her smile was quickly replaced with a frown.
Nick grimaced. “I guess no dinner, huh?”
TRINIDAD
Trinidad waited until Marty had finished his call. He glanced up to see her and held up two fingers. And in two minutes after a few words, he turned to her.
“What’s up?” he avoided her eyes.
“What is up, Marty is you have stopped speaking to me since our conversation yesterday about your future.”
“Nah, I’m talking to you.”
“That is right. You talk to me but . . . uh . . . you do not talk to me.” She came around to the side of the counter. “I was wrong to discourage you. If you want to be a private detective—then that is what you should try to be.”
He leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands on the edge of the desk.
“You’re forgiven,” he said. “Yes, I want to be a private detective. I know I can be a good one.”
Trinidad gave a deep nod.
“Well then, it is settled. If I can help you or you have any questions you must ask me.”
“Okay,” he tilted his head. “Are you sure? Any question?”
“Any question.”
“Why do you always wear black? I asked Ava and she said it was because you lost a friend. But I don’t think that’s it, or at least not all of it.”
Trinidad’s eyes widened and she took a couple of steps back.
“It is a . . . a personal question,” she stuttered. “I did not . . . not mean,” she faltered and saw his concern. She took a long exhale. “I . . . I do not know anymore. It is what is inside me.”
“No joy?”
She winced.
“No joy, yes, that is it,” she mused, then added with a lackluster smile. “You will make a good detective, Marty.”
Trinidad decided a restaurant could provide privacy and convenience, if not food—which was good, since so far Simone had only ordered a soft drink.
The email from the County Clerk’s Office came late the day before. Trinidad had been checking her inbox every fifteen minutes until it finally appeared.
Simone’s father agrees to meet. It was followed by detailed contact information and a declaration that Jonathan Kerr had approved the County to release his information to his daughter.
“I’m not too sure I’m ready, Trinidad.” Simone looked down at her hands. “I know I’m the one who started things . . . but now . . .. I’m scared and nervous and my stomach is upset.”
Trinidad gave her an understanding smile.
“Yes. I know but, it is likely the same for him.” She patted the woman’s hand. “Remember, this is for your health. He has the same condition as you. He will probably be more nervous than you.”
“Maybe . . . but . . .” She hesitated. “I was wondering if you could speak with him first. Like an introduction to me. All this time . . . it’s been so long . . . I . . .” her voice drifted.
“Of course, of course, Simone. I will contact your father and will meet with him first. I will try to see him tomorrow or maybe even today,” Trinidad said. “But remember he responded to you. It is you he wants to meet.”
Trinidad meant for her words to soothe and calm, but they had the opposite effect. Simone’s jaw tightened and there was an obvious tic showing on her left eyelid.
Simone leaned across the table.
“You make it sound so easy. But, he had an affair with my mother and then abandoned us both. Now, he gets contacted by his bastard child who wants to drop some guilt-trip medical issue on him.” Her words came spitting out. “He wants to meet me out of curiosity. Where has he been all these years?”
“Simone, what is the matter? Where do your words come from?” Trinidad frowned. “Why are you saying this now?”
“Because . . . because I’m a fool and sometimes reality hits me.” She tapped the side of her head with the palm of her hand. All my life I thought my father was one man, and here I am, an adult, finding out I was lied to . . . and lived a lie because no one cared enough to tell me the truth. No wonder my male relationships were screwed up. Men just played on my vulnerability.”
“Yes, Simone, it is quite a list of complaints you have.”
“You make it sound like it’s just self-pity. And, maybe it is.” She swiped at her eyes with a tissue. “This morning my doctor gave me my ‘blood-letting’ schedule for the next six months. Did you hear that, ‘blood-letting’? It sounds like I’m a vampire.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Starting next Wednesday I have to go to the medical lab to have contaminated blood taken from my body—every week for the rest of my life.”
Trinidad stiffened and pressed her lips together. She looked past her client out the window and then turned back.
“It does not sound pleasant and it is unfortunate you are in this place in life.” She tilted her head. “But you are here. That is the way it is. I am so sorry there is nothing I can do. Why did you ever want to spend your time tracking your ancestors to find your father?”
She shrugged. “Frankly, you ask me now and I don’t why I had to know. At first, I thought . . . I thought I would re-unite with my family, people who I belonged to—was a part of. And yes, I wanted to understand my condition and receive a little sympathy. Maybe find out that my father is treated with a cure. But, now, I realize finding my people—my ‘loving’ aunts, came with baggage and . . . and the facts in all this time my own father didn’t reach out to me.” She straightened. “I guess now it just makes me sad, abandoned and angry.”
“You are right, there is a lot to know.” Trinidad nodded. “But, you are happy that you are about to meet your father?”
“Yes, I’m happy, but there’s no . . . no—”
“Joy,” Trinidad murmured.
It was early Saturday morning. At first, Trinidad didn’t realize this man with a slight bent and heading her way was Simone’s father. It had taken only one attempt to reach Jonathan Kerr. He had answered his phone the day before after one only ring. He agreed immediately to meet Trinidad in a park on the Berkeley estuary. Kerr leaned heavily on his walker as he stepped slowly down the path toward the park bench. He looked nothing like she expected, until he raised his head and Simone’s eyes gazed back at her.
Balancing his walker with his left hand, he reached out with his right.
“Ah, I can tell I’m not what you were expecting.”
