I lied and told her I didn’t think one way or the other about Mary, I just needed to find her.

  “Do you think there’s any chance that she and…” Cortnie looked down at her notes, “…Austin, may have run off together?”

  Fran vehemently shook her head. “No way. As much as she loved sex and as much as she and Austin were together, Mary loves Jeb. She’d never leave him. I’ll bet if you go out to the house right now, Mary’s home. Maybe she had too much to drink and passed out, but she’d never leave Jeb.”

  Funny, that’s exactly where I’d planned to go.

  Chapter Five

  I drove back into Salinas proper and dropped Cortnie at the office before heading to the Bexley home. She had plenty to do and wanted to look at the phone numbers Jeb had sent me. She even thought to try to track the GPS on Mary’s phone. It was a long shot, but if anyone can do it…it was Charles. But we didn’t have Charles, so Cortnie would have to step up.

  I went inside the office to see if Lola wanted to tag along, but she was too busy being Uta’s shadow.

  “I’ve been plying her with liver treats,” Uta said, “I remember Charles saying that she loves them.”

  I smiled. Great, now Lola would be strutting around the house tooting out liver farts. Nick would make her sleep in the spare room. I could just picture her curled up in her dog bed on top of the real bed, whimpering.

  I heard my mom, I mean Lydia, talking to Cortnie down the hall. I really had to get used to calling her Lydia for the benefit of everyone else. Especially clients. Much better than them thinking this was a small family “five and dime” business.

  “Hey, Lydia, want to go with me to investigate a family?” She’d love to pretend to be a caring mom grilling them for information. All the while they wouldn’t know they’d been spilling their guts to her. She was getting good at this investigation stuff.

  She yelled down the hall, “I’m good. Cortnie is going to teach me how to hack a phone.”

  I rolled my eyes. I may have created a monster by hiring her.

  “She’s one smart cookie,” Uta said. “She’s making me look like a slacker.”

  “Ha,” I said. “Like that could ever happen.”

  Uta smiled her confident smile and patted Lola on the head.

  “Fine, Lola is yours, but don’t complain to me when she starts gassing everyone out in a few hours.”

  I glared at Lola, who promptly sat next to Uta and put her chin in her lap.

  “Traitor.” I headed down the hall and out the back door of the house.

  I almost called Jeb to see if Mary had come home, but my nosy nature got the better of me. I’d rather go to the house and see where she lived, even if she had returned home. Knowing what I knew, I wanted to sit down with Jeb and Mary and see the dynamics. See how they work together.

  I also wanted to tell Jeb about Mary, but what if Fran was just blowing smoke up our ass? She seemed legit, but maybe she and Mary had been on the outs, and she wanted to cause trouble. For the moment, I took her at face value.

  On the drive over, I cranked the music so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Playing Adele, I sang at the top of my lungs all the way out to Toro Park again. I wondered why I’d taken Cortnie all the way back into Salinas only to drive a few blocks from Fran’s house to meet with the Bexley family. Why hadn’t we just made the short trek together? Even with the time it took to drive her home, it was better to have us each working on separate tasks, than wasting time questioning someone together. Besides, it would give her time to go over her notes and mull over what Fran had told us.

  I pulled my car to the curb in front of the Bexley home. As I put it in park, I could almost see another layer of fog rolling in. It felt ominous. I sat in the car and waited for the Adele song, A Million Years Ago, to finish. That song hit home more than I liked to admit. Even though I listened until the end, I did not sit in the car and sing that one at the top of my lungs. I turned off my car and got out, locking the door from my keychain. I hit the lock button one time too many and the damn car honked. It embarrassed me every time I did that. I looked around, to see if anybody was staring at me.

  I debated wearing my shoulder holster and gun in the house, and decided my safety was more important than their peace of mind. I moved my Glock to the most comfortable position under my sweater and headed up the sidewalk.

  From where I parked, I could see the house peeking from behind a fence, and it looked quite large. The style was 1970s Frank Lloyd Wright. This style seemed to be par for the neighborhood, some houses larger, some houses smaller. This was one of the larger homes.

  The house and yard hid behind a black privacy fence set a few feet from the sidewalk. The delicate flowers in the landscaping softened the hard look of the black fence. The open gate gave me more of a welcoming feeling than it had when I drove up, but something still set the hair on the back of my neck on end.

  As I entered the yard, I was greeted by an incredible and intricate bamboo fountain, sand, and a dark maroon Japanese Maple. A pagoda light and bonsai plant on a teakwood table ran parallel to the pea gravel walkway to the front door. Can we say high maintenance garden?

  The front door opened, before I had a chance to lift my hand to knock. I looked for a video camera, but didn’t see one.

  Jeb opened the door, dressed in gray cotton sweatpants and a loose-fitting cotton tee. His feet were bare.

  “Hi, come in.” He opened the door wide and I walked past him. “Did you get the list of names and numbers I texted you?”

  I turned to look back over my shoulder at Jeb. “Yes, I did. Sorry I didn’t text you back right away. I was in the middle of an interview.”

  Jeb smiled a weak smile. “No, it’s fine. Come into the kitchen. The boys will be out in a moment. I told them you were coming.”

  I walked through the modern interior of the Bexley home, noting how incredibly difficult it must be to keep all of the white clean. White walls, white marble floors, whitewash hardwood, right down to the white furniture. As sparse and modern as the interior looked, it still had the warm feeling of home. I think the wall of framed children’s art next to the dining room table gave a softness to the edge.

  “Please have a seat. I know it’s afternoon, but I made coffee and scones. Would you like some?” Jeb said.

  I waved him off. “No, thank you.” Even though I was salivating and wanted to say yes. I have a special place in my tummy for scones.

  Jeb poured himself a cup of coffee, and before he had the pot back on the burner, three identical boys of different ages marched into the room. I couldn’t believe how much the three of them looked alike, and exactly like their father.

  The oldest approached me with his hand out, and I stood. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Capurro, I’m Clayton.”

  He had a hearty handshake, and looked me in the eye when he introduced himself, but looked away immediately. Something told me this boy didn’t know how handsome he was.

  The next boy introduced himself as Matthew, and looked at me in the same manner Clayton did. It made me wonder if they’d been taught humility, because there’s no way this family of men didn’t know how incredibly attractive they were.

  When Abe shook my hand, I had to keep the laugh out of my voice as I said, “Nice to meet you, too.” He was just too adorable and polite to be ten years old.

  Each of the boys sat on the other side of the dining room table, with their hands in their laps, waiting for their father to join us. I wondered if this was a strict Christian family, and these boys were always this well-mannered and polite, or if they been schooled for the situation. I guess the truth would come out in the questioning.

  Jeb came to the table with just a cup of black coffee, forgoing the scones. I gave a silent thank you, since now I wouldn’t be drooling over scones during this interview.

  “You’ve met the boys. They know why you’re here. I explained to them that their mother was not at home this morning, and I’m concerned. I told them that I hired you to find out where she is and if she’s okay, because I do not have the time or the resources. And we’re very worried about her.” He looked over at his boys. “They’ve all expressed great concern, and even offered to help me, so I wouldn’t have to hire you. But I explained to them that you’d already been hired.”

  I smiled. It was good to know that the family worked as a team.

  “So, you know that I’m here because your mother is missing, but what I’d like to do is speak to each one of you individually.” I looked over at Jeb. “Is this okay with you?”

  Jeb finished sipping his coffee, and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Clayton looked at Jeb, then looked at me. “Will this take long? I have football practice.”

  Jeb didn’t have to say a word. He shot Clayton a look that could shrivel any seasoned veteran.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Clayton said the words, but he didn’t look at me.

  Matthew spoke up for his brother. “It’s not that we don’t care, it’s just that it’s not the first time.”

  All three boys stared at me. Jeb took another sip of coffee.

  I should start ticking off the revelations. Why was it that people wanted my help, but they didn’t want to tell me the truth, as in the whole story?

  I decided to let the statement pass, and asked only Clayton to stay at the table. I figured if he had football practice, he’d like to get this over with.

  Jeb took Matthew and Abe outside to the backyard. Clayton looked over his shoulder at the sliding glass door for longer than seemed comfortable.

  “Sorry to keep you from football practice, Clayton. I totally understand. My boyfriend used to play for the 49ers. Practice is important if you want to continue your career as a football player.”

  I knew mentioning the 49ers would get his attention.

  “Really? He used to play for the 49ers? When? What’s his name?”

  I thought it might be a good idea to continue with this conversation before questioning him, so I answered his questions. “Back when God was a baby, he played for them for a few years. It didn’t end well, because he didn’t appreciate what he had at the time. His name is Nick Christianson, and he was a defensive back.”

  Clayton put his hands on the table. “No way. He’s the dude who spells his name wrong.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Spells his name wrong?”

  “Yeah, Christianson is spelled with an SEN at the end and he spells his SON.”

  I shrugged. I guess it didn’t really matter how he spelled his name. “I never thought about that.”

  “It doesn’t really matter, it’s just that I have some OCD issues. Things that are misspelled drive me crazy. But he was a really good player, and then he was gone.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “So what does a has-been football player do?”

  I smiled. “A retired football player. In this case, he’s a homicide detective.”

  Clayton leaned back in his chair, not quite as interested now. “How the mighty will fall.”

  Déjà vu. Hadn’t I just thought the exact same thing earlier?

  I was trying to decide if I liked this kid or not. He was a little too honest for my tastes.

  “So let me ask you, Clayton, Matthew said this isn’t the first time your mom has disappeared?”

  I could see Clayton’s body tense. “Dad doesn’t like to talk about it, but there are plenty of mornings that our mom isn’t home. Sure, most mornings she has breakfast made and sends us on our way, but in the last year, I’d say she hasn’t been home for breakfast at least a dozen times. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t here before we got up. That’s what we told Dad. Maybe she slipped out while he was still asleep in the spare room.”

  In my head, I was going through the scenarios. Was she usually home the night before? Or had she really left in the middle of the night, and the boys just didn’t know it? Or was she an early riser on a regular basis?

  “If you think back, the mornings she wasn’t home to make breakfast, was she home before you left for school?”

  Clayton looked off behind me, not seeming to focus on anything in particular. “Yes, but that’s just it. This is the only time she didn’t return by the time I was getting in the car. Most every other time, she walked in the door just as we were leaving, or I’d drive by her on the way to school.”

  “Is there a chance she went grocery shopping early in the morning to avoid the crowds?”

  Clayton laughed. “My mom didn’t grocery shop. We have a housekeeper and cook; they do all of the work.”

  My brows raised. Mary didn’t cook, she didn’t clean, and she didn’t have a job, what the hell did she do all day? According to Fran, she probably laid in bed with her vibrator, but was harried and harassed for time.

  “Yoga class?”

  Clayton raised his hand with his index finger pointed up. “Now that’s possible. My mom is exercise obsessed. If she’d come back all sweaty and gross, I’d say she’d gone out for a morning run, but wouldn’t that be a daily thing?”

  Clayton didn’t seem at all worried about his mother, so why did Jeb? “I know this is a difficult question, but was it a specific day of the week? Or were these mornings random?”

  Clayton didn’t hesitate. “Without fail, it was Wednesday morning.” He looked behind him at his father and brothers out in the yard, then back at me. “Between you and me, I think she was pissed off that Dad stayed out so late on Tuesday nights. She never said anything, but on Tuesday nights she always seemed anxious.”

  “And last night? Did she seem anxious?”

  Clayton shrugged. “Hard to tell. Last night, she made us clean up after dinner. She said it wasn’t the housekeeper’s job to clean up after our dinners. Matthew, Abe, and I washed dishes and clean the kitchen while she went to her bedroom. She said she didn’t feel well.”

  So things were little different last night. “Did she usually go to her bedroom after your dad left on Tuesdays?”

  Clayton thought about it for a moment. “Not that I can recall. But then again, I don’t usually stay home. Matthew and Abe might be able to answer that question a little better. Mom usually let me go hang out with my friends right after Dad left.”

  “Did anything seem different about last night, other than your mom making you clean up after yourselves?”

  Clayton gave a slight smirk. “It’s not like she didn’t make us clean up after ourselves on a regular basis. It’s just that she was snarky about it. And we usually rotate. There’s five of us, so the nights that Dad insists we eat dinner together, one of us cleans up. It was that she insisted that all three of us help. That’s what was so weird.”

  This gave me a little better idea of the family dynamic. It did seem like a good, strict Christian family with values. And in the back of my head, I kept seeing Mary drugging strangers in a hotel room. Good Christian values.

  “Thanks for answering my questions. You can tell your dad it’s okay for you to go to football practice now. If I have any more questions, do you have a cell phone?”

  Clayton gave me his cell phone number and got up from the table.

  I’m not sure what he said to his dad when he went out to the backyard, but he left out the gate, not coming back into the house. Matthew was next.

  “Hey, Matt, have a seat.”

  He sat down and said, “My name is Matthew, not Matt.”

  I didn’t bother with an apology. Of anyone, I’d have expected Clayton to have an attitude, not Matthew. Matthew had the look of the middle child, calm and quiet, and just not wanting to cause trouble. But he had the attitude of a sullen teen.

  An idea came to me, and I asked Matthew, “What did you have for dinner last night?”

  Matthew frowned. “What does that matter?”

  “It’s just a question. Do you remember what you had for dinner last night, or not?”

  “I didn’t eat dinner last night,” he snapped.

  This attitude made me want to reach across the table and slap him across the face. There’s always one, isn’t there?

  “I thought your father made you have dinner as a family several nights a week?”

  “Yep.”

  I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Look, Matthew, I’m not the enemy. Just looking for answers. Don’t you want to find your mom?”

  Matthew mimicked my gestures, leaning in. “I don’t care if I never see Mary again.”

  This caught me so off guard that I leaned back in my chair and just stared at the boy.

  He fidgeted. “It’s been a bad few days, okay? She always comes back, so I don’t know what the fuss is.”

  He put his hands back under the table and stared at me.

  My phone buzzed and I looked down to see a text message from Cortnie with a 911 attached to it.

  “Excuse me a moment, this is an important text message.”

  Matthew rolled his eyes. “Aren’t they all?”

  Good Lord, maybe Mary had had sex with Charles and this was their love child. The snark and the attitude matched. The only thing that gave him away was the black hair.

  I think I found Mary’s car, the text read. Want to meet me there?

  Hell, yes, I wanted to meet her there. I pushed away from the table, standing.

  “Thank you for your time, Matthew. I won’t bother you anymore. At least not right now. I’m sorry things aren’t great with you and your mom. I know how that feels.”

  Matthew pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “That’s what you old people always say. ‘I know how it feels.’”

  Ouch.

  I followed Matthew out to the backyard and told Jeb I had an emergency, not wanting to tell him what it was, in case it was a false alarm. I told him I’d call him back to make an appointment to finish questioning him and Abe.

  The boys stayed in the backyard while Jeb walked me to the door.

  “Was Matthew a jerk?” he asked.

  I wanted to say, Yes, he was a little prick, but I said, “He seems to have some issues. I’m not sure if they’re with you or your wife.”

  Jeb’s face went slack. “I’m sorry to say, I think his issues are with both of us.”

 

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