The Only Suspect Page 2

  From the moment she first nestled in my arms, I’d been totally swept away by the tiny, helpless bundle of a human being who was my daughter. It was beyond anything I’d expected. The intensity of my feelings still surprised me sometimes. And it spooked me to remember how close I’d once come to losing her. It was Lisa’s parents and their efforts to gain custody that had finally shaken me free of booze.

  Now, inexplicably, I’d teetered on that same brink again. What had I been thinking?

  Molly appeared in the doorway, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She had the same rich auburn hair and brown eyes as her mother. Only, Lisa’s hair had been straight while Molly had inherited my cowlicks and kinks.

  “Ready to go?” I asked her.

  “I was ready at nine.”

  “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  She flashed me a mouthful of braces that passed as a smile.

  I waited until we were in the car to offer a full apology and, if necessary, an explanation, but by then she was on to other things. My failure to show up that morning took second fiddle to tales about the furry black puppy who belonged to the boy next door. I realized early into the story that the boy was the main attraction, not the dog. Not so long ago, I thought with a pang of nostalgia, it would have been the other way around.

  It wasn’t until we’d been home some time that she asked, “Where’s Maureen?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she’s probably out with a friend.”

  “Shopping?”

  “Maybe.” It was as good a guess as any; Maureen did spend a lot of time shopping. And her purse was missing; I’d checked that already. “Did she say anything to you about who she might have gone with?”

  Molly shook her head.

  Though I tried not to show it, I was becoming increasingly worried. If Maureen was angry, she’d have been more likely to let me have it than to simply ignore me. The cold, silent treatment wasn’t her usual style. But neither could I discount the possibility that she’d told me where she’d be and I’d simply forgotten it, along with everything else about the previous day.

  Molly looked at me suspiciously. “Did you two have a fight?”

  “What makes you ask?”

  “I don’t know. It’s weird is all. Both of you forgetting to come get me, then she’s not here and you look ...” She lowered her gaze. “You look like you got beat up or something.”

  I gave her a hug. “Maureen and I didn’t fight, and no one beat me up. Like the klutz that I am, I ran into a door. That’s all. It looks worse than it is.”

  She hugged me back, then gave me a skeptical look. “You’d tell me if something bad happened, wouldn’t you? I’m not a little kid anymore, you know.”

  “I know you’re not a little kid, Sweetpea. Not by a long shot. And everything’s fine.”

  I’m not sure Molly believed that any more than I did.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sunday evenings we usually had supper at my dad’s, in the old two-story house I’d grown up in. Most often he barbecued, but sometimes he’d whip up tacos or pizza. Those were his specialties even when Mom was alive. And they were the only times he got anywhere near the kitchen. Since her death he’d learned to cook a few other meals out of necessity, but he never ventured from his standbys on the Sundays he cooked for us.

  As five o’clock approached and Maureen still hadn’t returned, I debated calling Dad and bowing out. But I knew he’d be hurt, so Molly and I went anyway.

  My brother, Chase, was already there, settled in front of the television with a can of beer. Since it was early in the month, he probably hadn’t yet hit on Dad for a handout. On those rare occasions when I’d suggest maybe he shouldn’t be asking at all, Chase was quick to point out he’d been around during Mom’s protracted fight with cancer. I, on the other hand, had been living the golden life—that was his expression—in faraway Boston. To his mind that counted for a lot. I couldn’t say I disagreed.

  He greeted us without rising from the sofa. “Hey, Molly By-Golly. Come give your old uncle Chase a hug. I swear you get prettier by the day.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You say that every time.”

  “It’s true every time. You’re getting to be the spittin’ image of your mama.” Chase offered Molly a sip of beer in spite of the fact he knew I disapproved.

  He looked at me and grinned. “It’s not going to hurt her, Sam. It’s just a sip. Hell, Dad used to give us nips of his whiskey when we were growing up. Remember that?”

  And I’d ended up an alcoholic. I knew, though, it wasn’t Dad’s fault.

  “Where’s your better half?” Chase asked, more as a conversation filler than out of any real interest. Chase and Maureen had never really hit it off.

  I’d spent a good part of the afternoon playing out scenarios of Maureen’s possible whereabouts in my mind. The most likely was that we’d gone out—it was our anniversary, after all—I’d gotten smashed, and we’d argued. Or maybe we’d had one hell of an argument, and that’s why I’d started drinking. In any event, she was royally pissed and wanted nothing to do with me for the moment.

  What I desperately hoped, though, was that she’d long ago made plans to go off with a girlfriend and I’d simply forgotten about it.

  A third possibility played at the back of my mind, and that was that something really bad had happened. I had visions of some street thug demanding my wallet, then slugging me in the jaw and running off with Maureen. It might explain the blood under my nails, but it didn’t ring true. I still had my wallet for one thing, and you can be sure I’d have had no qualms about handing it over.

  None of this was anything I wanted to get into right then. “She couldn’t make it,” I told him.

  “Smart woman. These Sunday dinners get mighty tedious, if you ask me.” Chase looked at me more closely. “What happened to your face?”

  “I ran into a door.” It seemed easiest to keep the story consistent.

  “Sure.” He grinned like he didn’t believe a word of it.

  “I’d better go say hi to Dad.”

  “You ever want to talk about it,” Chase called after me, “I’m here. I’m something of an expert when it comes to woman troubles.”

  Only if personal experience made one an expert. Chase had a history of bad relationships, but whether he’d learned anything in the process was unclear.

  We had steak that night, cooked to perfection as usual. The rest of the meal, which in better times had been my mother’s duty, lacked the same expertise. The frozen fries were still a bit soggy in the center, though they improved vastly with catsup, and the salad was nothing more than a bowl of iceberg lettuce. You’d think, since my dad had been a doctor, he’d pay more attention to nutrition, but I doubt he’d eaten a true vegetable since the day my mother had become too sick to cook.

  “Debbie tells me you and Ira are redecorating the waiting room,” Dad said.

  Debbie was our nurse and my dad’s main pipeline for office gossip. She worked for him for nearly twenty years and still took his advice over ours. It bothered Ira, more now that he and I shared the practice than when he was my dad’s associate, but I didn’t have a problem as long as she did her job.

  “We’re thinking about it,” I told him. “Probably some fresh paint and carpeting, and maybe new furniture. It depends how much it costs.”

  Dad frowned, his bushy eyebrows knit together like an iron gray ledge above his eyes. “It’ll cost plenty, believe me. Nothing’s cheap anymore.”

  “Your patients aren’t going to care,” Chase said. “They come to you because you’re a good doctor and you care about them.”

  But mostly because I was my dad’s son. Still, it was nice to hear Chase stand up for me. Chase was two years older, and when we were growing up he was everything a boy could want in a brother. He taught me to fish and shoot baskets, and pretty much everything I knew about sex before Lisa. Anyone crossed me on the playground, they heard about it from Chase. For years, jus
t the unspoken threat of Chase was enough to keep most people off my back.

  Things changed after Chase got out of the army. Maybe it was because he wasn’t a hero anymore, or maybe it was the fact that he burned through one job after another, either being let go or quitting over some petty disagreement with his superior. Chase had yet to land on his feet, as my dad was fond of saying, but he never seemed to begrudge the fact that I’d enjoyed successes while he floundered.

  “We’re not going to do anything for a while,” I told them. “Ira’s got to pay off his credit cards first.”

  “He maxed out again?” Dad asked.

  I nodded. Ira didn’t believe in denying himself any of life’s pleasures. And his pleasures were expensive ones: golf, cars, gambling, and women.

  “Makes me look like a saint, doesn’t he?” Chase burped then shot Molly a sly grin.

  She giggled while my father glowered.

  After dinner, I excused myself to Dad’s den and phoned my home number. I hoped Maureen would pick up, but I reached only my own voice on the outgoing message of the answering machine. I tried her cell phone next. The connection went directly to voice mail. My stomach churned with the eddy of worry I’d been trying so hard all evening to ignore. Where was she?

  While Chase and Molly did the dishes, I helped my father set up his new computer. He’d been slow to embrace the electronic revolution, but once he’d succumbed, there was no stopping him.

  “I’m sorry Maureen couldn’t make it,” he said when we were just about done. “I know these family meals can’t be her idea of fun, but she’s a good sport about it.”

  “I think she enjoys them.” I knew she enjoyed not having to cook.

  “It’s sad she doesn’t get along with her own family. She never talks to them at all?”

  “Doesn’t talk, doesn’t write. As far as she’s concerned, they don’t exist. I gather they must feel the same way.”

  “Any idea what happened?”

  I shook my head. Maureen didn’t talk about her family any more than she talked to them. That part of my life is over, she’d told me at one point. I don’t want it infecting who I am today. Personally, I think the past is never really over, and in any case, it’s something you share with the person you love. But Maureen didn’t agree, and she’d made me promise not to keep pestering her about it.

  My father stood up from his chair. “Well, you tell her we missed her tonight.”

  “I’ll do that.” I looked at my watch. “Molly and I had better be heading home.”

  “Take some firewood with you. The Feed and Fuel was clearing out what was left from their winter supply. The price was a real bargain. There’s a tarp in the garage you can use to protect your trunk.”

  “Thanks.”

  With Chase’s help, I carried two loads of wood from the side of the house to the driveway, where my Audi was parked. Chase went to get the tarp.

  “What happened to your rear bumper?” he asked when he returned.

  “I wasn’t paying attention and backed into a tree.” If I’d been thinking straight at the outset, I’d have come up with a single story that covered both the bumper and my face. Now I was stuck with two “accidents” that sounded lame at best.

  Chase seemed not to notice. “Even a little ding like that will cost a bundle to get fixed.”

  “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for my stupidity.” That part was true, at least. “Car’s old enough I may just forget about fixing it.”

  “Seems a shame though. It’s in pretty good shape otherwise.” Chase unloaded an armful of logs and went to get another. The sky had darkened, and the first star of the night glimmered in the twilight. If Maureen were here, she’d close her eyes tight and send a wish to the heavens. She never told me what she wished for. “That would spoil it,” she explained. But she’d invariably kiss me on the cheek at the same time.

  Suddenly I felt like something inside me might burst.

  When Chase returned, I leaned against the car with a sigh. “I need some advice.”

  His expression grew serious. I hadn’t asked him for advice since high school. “What is it?”

  “What I said about Maureen ... It wasn’t just that she couldn’t make it tonight. She’s gone.”

  Chase dropped the logs into the trunk without stacking them. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “I don’t know where she is.” I choked on a well of emotion. Worry, guilt, fear, loss—they were all mixed together.

  Chase touched my shoulder. “She left you?”

  “I don’t know. Her car’s there, and her clothes. Only thing I know for sure that’s missing is her purse. I’m worried something has happened to her.”

  “Have you notified the police?”

  “You think I should?”

  Chase looked confused. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “It might be nothing. It’s only been a day. Less than that even. I don’t want to make a big deal if it’s just ... you know, nothing.”

  Chase regarded me in silence.

  “Maybe she told me where she was going and I forgot. Or maybe she just wanted some time away from me.”

  “She’s mad at you?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He rubbed his bristly chin. “Something tells me there’s more to this than you’re saying.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to speak the words, to admit I’d been weak and stupid. But I clearly had been, and admitting it was an important step. I nodded.

  “I think I had a drink last night.”

  “You think?”

  “Right. I don’t ... I don’t remember. Anything.”

  Chase waited for me to continue.

  “I woke up this morning in my car, in a ditch. With a pounding headache. When I got to the house, Maureen wasn’t there. She hasn’t been home all day.”

  “You think she might have been in the car with you last night?”

  “The doors were still locked when I came to this morning.”

  “Jesus.”

  I nodded again. “I really fucked up.”

  “You think that’s why she took off?”

  “That’s one theory. To make it worse, yesterday was our anniversary.”

  Chase shook his head. “Swift going, champ.”

  “There are other possibilities, though,” I added.

  “Like something bad happening to her?”

  “Right.” I looked at Chase, and I could tell he was thinking about Lisa, same as I was.

  “It’s not the same,” Chase said.

  “But you can see why I don’t want to bring the police in unless I have to.”

  He was quiet a moment. “I hate to tell you, Sam—I think you have to.”

  On some level I’d known that all along, but Chase made it seem obvious.

  “And you might want to call Jesse as well.”

  Jesse Black was my sponsor at AA. “That’s like closing the barn door after the cows are out, Chase. When I should have called him is when I was thinking about taking that first drink.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of AA,” Chase said quietly.

  I felt a knot form in my chest. I knew what he was getting at. Jesse was also a former defense attorney. That Chase would assume I’d need Jesse’s help wasn’t at all encouraging.

  I held out some hope that Maureen would be home when Molly and I returned. But she wasn’t. The house was as still and empty as when we’d left.

  By now it was obvious to Molly that something was seriously amiss. “Where’s Maureen?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean? How can you not be sure?” She folded her arms and glared at me.

  I could tell she was troubled. But I didn’t know if she was concerned for Maureen or simply reacting to the fact that there was something unusual going on. Maureen and Molly hadn’t hit if off the way I’d hoped. Maureen had come on too strong in the beginning, expecting, I think, to waltz into a ready-made, Hallmark-perfect family. Molly, understan
dably, had resisted. Though their relationship was improving, it was far from ideal.

  “There are a lot of places she could be,” I said reasonably.

  “Dad! What is going on?” Molly’s voice was close to strident.

  “I don’t know, Molly. Honestly. Maureen wasn’t here when I got home ... from, uh, visiting a patient this morning.” I cringed at how easily the lie rolled off my lips. “She didn’t leave a note.”

  My daughter eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure you guys didn’t have a fight?”

  I smiled stiffly. “Not that I remember.”

  “Aren’t you worried?”

  “Yes, I am. I thought she’d be home by now, that it was all some big mix-up. She didn’t say anything to you about her plans, did she?”

  “No.”

  I touched Molly’s cheek. “You go on and get ready for bed. Tomorrow’s a school day, remember? I’m going to call some of Maureen’s friends. There may be some ladies’ thing going on that I’ve forgotten all about.”

  “Does Maureen have any friends?” Molly asked with a bite of sarcasm.

  “Molly, that’s not—”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. But at least you won’t have to spend all evening on the phone.”

  Maureen complained that she had nothing in common with the other women in town, and in many ways that was true. Except for the increasing number of retirees drawn to the area by reasonably affordable housing, Monte Vista was family oriented. People moved there from Sacramento, and even the Bay Area, because they wanted a quiet, safe place to raise children. The town’s social structure revolved around schools and kids’ sports, and most women found friends in the mothers of their children’s friends. In that regard, Maureen was at a disadvantage. For one thing, she was younger than most of them. For another, motherhood was a role she had donned, rather than a fierce commitment of the heart. But I felt certain if she’d only put a little energy into making friends, she’d find women she was comfortable with.

  She hadn’t reached that point yet, however. Molly was right. With three or four phone calls, I would exhaust the pool of people who might know where Maureen was.