Enemies Closer (9 page)

Chapter Eight

C
lara got Ben’s message a few minutes after he left it but decided to wait for him to call back. She had just walked off the elevator in Maddy’s apartment building and was unlocking the door while she listened to it. “Bea,” she said, kneeling down to pet the cat, “you are the only company I want right now.” The last few hours had been a blur of conversations with the staff at Dovetail and Gigi’s.

After she left Ben at the café, wiped away the little dots of mascara from the corners of her eyes and brushed some color back into her pale cheeks, she walked around the market, trying to distract herself while she waited for the lunch rush at Gigi’s to end. The smell of fresh flowers and smoked salmon never failed to ground her and she bought a handful of dates and a few oranges to keep at Maddy’s place. A round of fish-tossing demonstrations made her hold her breath every time another black cod or mackerel flew through the air and blow it out when one of the fishmongers casually caught it. Perusing the handmade jewelry and flipping through prints by local artists, she continued to check her phone every few minutes for the time.

Her thoughts frequently went back to Ben, hoping his interview with Carlisle and Kincaid went off without a hitch. She wanted him to be innocent in all of this so she could accept his help. At Manny’s, Clara had felt shockingly at ease with him, and even felt a little flutter when he’d said that Maddy had wanted to set them up.

She checked her phone again. Two o’clock. She left the market and walked down Pike’s Place to Gigi’s Bistro.

The second she walked through the door, Clara recognized the man who raised a hand to welcome her in.
Harry
, she thought. She’d seen him in a few pictures on Maddy’s Facebook page, and he was too striking to forget.

Harry clearly recognized Clara too. He was leaning over the host stand, looking through the reservation book, and when he raised his head to greet an arriving customer, his expression went from brilliant smile to sympathy in an instant.

“Clara,” he said, making it a statement, not a question. Before she knew it, Harry had his arms around her and was patting her back, introducing himself as Madeline’s friend.

Clara found his gesture endearing and she let herself relax in his embrace. When he released her, Harry whisked Clara to a table in the corner and offered to get them a pot of tea. Watching him walk away, she noted the crisp cut of his deep purple Paul Smith suit, pinstriped shirt and blue tie. His thick hair was slicked back, his high cheekbones and strong jawline were accentuated by a five o’clock shadow. He was very good-looking, almost pretty, and with his flashy suit and deliberate movements, Harry Reynolds cut a conspicuous figure. He returned with a pot of tea, cups and saucers, honey and milk all deftly balanced on a cocktail tray.

“Any word?” His voice was deep and resonant and belied his effeminate mannerisms. Clara shook her head. “You look so much like her, I would have known you anywhere. How are you holding up?”

Clara almost said that she was fine, but she wasn’t and instead told him, “It’s been really hard and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. Everyone says Maddy didn’t have any enemies, but someone must have wished her harm or she would be here. Safe and sound.”

“Well,” said Harry, “she didn’t just walk away. Dovetail is too important to her.”

She asked him a few questions about the restaurant and his answers echoed what everyone said: the restaurant was a great success. “My girlfriend is the floor manager at Dovetail and she would tell me if anything was wrong over there. Clara, if you’re looking for trouble in Maddy’s life, I really don’t think it was business.”

“Any other kind of problem that you knew about?”

“With no time for a boyfriend?” He shrugged as if not having a boyfriend eliminated the possibility of any other kind of problem. “I really don’t know. She seemed a little off on Monday night, but it’s hard to tell with Maddy. She’s graceful through it all.”

“Then how did you know something was bothering her?”

He considered. “She just wasn’t as vivacious as she usually is. It was subtle – I wouldn’t have ever thought about it again except that now she’s missing and everyone is asking about it.”

Clara knew what he meant. Unless you knew her well, it
was
hard to tell when something was troubling Maddy. “Have the police been in to talk to you?”

“Yes, before lunch. They talked to Kris and Gemma too.”

Clara was relieved to hear it. Her instincts about the detectives were right; they were doing their best. She asked him about Ben and it turned out Harry knew him.

“Not very well, but I’ve seen them together a few times. Maddy told me once that she thought he was the perfect man for her sister.” He winked at Clara. “I didn’t tell the detectives about that.”

Clara could feel herself blushing and Harry laughed. “I see you’ve already met him. He’s good looking. Successful. Smart.” When she began to squirm, Harry said, “Oh god, Clara, I can’t believe I just said that. Totally inappropriate. This all seems so surreal though. I don’t know anyone who would want to hurt Maddy. The world is a better place with her in it.”

They spoke for a few more minutes, but Clara didn’t know what else to ask. “I have to get back to work, but here’s my card.” Harry pulled a thick white business card from his breast pocket. “Call me anytime, for any reason.”

She thought about asking Gemma Stein whether she knew anything about the state of affairs at Dovetail, but if she had an interest in Maddy’s restaurant not doing well because her management company wanted to buy it, she probably shouldn’t alert her that she was looking in that direction.

Clara left Gigi’s and walked back along Pike’s Place, passing the market again on her way to Dovetail. She hoped she could trust Michelle to tell her what was going on. It seemed the more she asked about Maddy’s life, the more mistrustful she became of anyone in it. Even Harry, whom she really wanted to trust, had lit up a bit too much when he talked about her sister, leaving Clara to wonder if he was interested in her as more than a friend.

A big part of the problem was that no one knew for certain when Madeline went missing. They knew where she was Monday evening and they knew she didn’t show up at the restaurant on Tuesday afternoon. Anytime in between, Maddy could have disappeared. It didn’t look like someone had taken her from her apartment, but who knew? Plus, if someone in her life did this, how hard would it be to lure her out of her apartment?

When she got to Dovetail, the door was locked, but Joe, the bartender-slash-engineering student, saw her and opened it up. “Clara. Have you heard anything about Maddy?”

“Not yet. I wanted to ask Michelle something, but can I talk to you for a minute first?”

“Of course. Do you want some coffee?” He led her to the bar.

Clara couldn’t drink any more coffee or tea or lemon water. She shook her head and when they were seated, asked Joe the same litany of questions she had asked Harry and he gave her the same answers. When she noticed the look of concern on his face she patted Joe on the arm. “I’m just grasping at straws here. I can’t find anyone who would want to hurt Maddy so I’m asking about everything I can think of.”

Joe looked relieved,

“What about the owners of Gigi’s? They’re a big management company, right?”

“Steinboch? Big for Seattle, I guess. But you should ask Susan about them. Her boyfriend is the general manager at Gigi’s. Plus, he’s incredibly ambitious. He studies this stuff.”

Clara made a mental note to do a little research online. “Did they show any interest in Dovetail?” she asked again.

“Maybe. They come in sometimes and Susan flutters around and tells me to take great care of them, but I don’t know if they’re here for business or pleasure. Ask Susan. Or Harry.”

She would, thinking of his business card in her wallet.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, they would know. Both of them are a little too ambitious to stay managers for long, if you know what I mean.” He raised his eyebrows conspiratorially.

Clara didn’t know what he meant, but when she didn’t say anything he went on, “She and Harry both studied restaurant management – well, Harry studied hospitality management. In Vegas, if you can believe it. If you’ve met him you know what I mean. Harry in Las Vegas with the Elvis impersonators.”

Clara could easily imagine it, though she’d put Harry in the Bellagio with Frank Sinatra.

“Clara?” Michelle’s voice came from behind her, interrupting Joe’s banter, and she turned around. “Any word?”

“No, Michelle, I’m sorry.” The two women embraced and Joe excused himself to go back to work.

Sitting down on the barstool next to Clara, Michelle sighed with exhaustion. “The cops came in to talk to me. They asked a lot of questions but I don’t know if I was any help. Eddie’s filling in again tonight but I’m going to have to bring some temporary help into the kitchen. Bless him for trying, but my husband is not a chef.”

Clara didn’t care about how the restaurant was running without Maddy, but she didn’t say anything. She knew that life for Michelle and Eddie wouldn’t conveniently stop until they had Maddy back. The show must go on. Still, Clara didn’t want to hear about it. “Was it Detectives Carlisle and Kincaid who came in?”

“What?” Michelle took a second to adjust to the change in topic. “Oh, yeah, I think so. A man and a woman. They asked about Maddy’s life, was she dating anyone, did any of our customers seem too interested in her. Were there any threats made against her or me or the restaurant.”

“
Were
there any threats?”

“No. Of course not.”

Stealing herself, Clara said, “Michelle, I want to ask you about Dovetail. Is the restaurant doing well?”

“Yes,” said Michelle curtly, a wrinkle forming on her brow. “Why on earth are you asking?”

“It’s probably nothing, but recently Maddy had been asking questions about the restaurant business.”

“Like what?”

“Like why a busy restaurant might lose money,” Clara said frankly.

“And you think she was talking about Dovetail?”

Clara was quickly realizing she shouldn’t have opened this line of inquiry with her sister’s business partner. There were too many unknowns and Michelle was getting angry. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Michelle. I don’t know why I mentioned it. I know you have a lot to do and I’m taking up too much of your time.”

Michelle nodded warily.

Clara stood. “Would Susan know if a particular customer was bothering Maddy?”

“She would be the one to ask. She’s not here yet, but she’ll be here soon. Or Joe would probably have noticed. Did you ask him? I think the police will be contacting both of them. I gave Detective Whatever their phone numbers.”

“Thanks.” Clara put a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t imagine the stress you’re under, Michelle. You’re doing a phenomenal job holding everything together.” She didn’t strictly know whether her sister’s business partner
was
holding everything together, but the compliment had the desired effect.

In a softer tone Michelle said, “I appreciate that.” But as she walked back to the kitchen she called out, “Maybe it’s best to let the police handle this, Clara.”

Turning, Clara replied simply, “I can’t do that, Michelle,” and she would have sworn the other woman looked at her with pity.

Joe appeared again behind the bar, carrying two cases of wine stacked in his arms. She asked him about any avid customers who may have turned into stalkers, but he hadn’t noticed anyone paying too much attention to Madeline and Clara decided it was time to get something to eat and head back to Maddy’s apartment.

She didn’t have the energy to wade through the foot traffic at the market, so she stopped at a bakery along the way. Amongst the delicious-looking savories and pastries sat a five-dollar éclair about the size of a breakfast sausage.
Five dollars?
Incomprehensibly, she bought it.

This had better be fabulous,
she thought as she took her first bite and continued to walk. It was. The choux pastry was crisp on the outside, tender and eggy on the inside, while the cream was pale yellow with flecks of vanilla bean, and the chocolate was a dark, glossy ganache. She ate it in three delicious bites and it was worth every penny
.

Chapter Nine

F
reshly showered and wrapped in Maddy’s oversized terrycloth bathrobe, Clara was curled up on the sofa with Bea in her lap when her iPhone rang. The area code was local but she didn’t recognize the number. When she answered Detective Carlisle identified herself.

“Have you found anything?”

“We have a few more avenues to pursue, but nothing concrete so far.” Clara didn’t say anything, but Carlisle could feel her disappointment through the phone. “Do you know if Maddy’s restaurant is having financial problems?”

“I know she was asking Ben Radcliffe about money stuff. You spoke with him today, right? Did he tell you about that?”

“He did. I thought she might have confided more specifically in you or your parents.”

“Not me. I’ll ask my father, but I think he would have told me about it when she disappeared.”

“Miss Gardner, we spoke with Mr. Radcliffe today and he told us you’d met with him. We’ve verified his alibi for Monday night after Madeline left Gigi’s Bistro and as far as I can tell, everything checks out, but we still don’t know exactly when your sister went missing, and I urge you to be careful conducting interviews with anyone who might have been involved with her disappearance. Have you discussed your concerns about Dovetail’s finances with anyone?”

“I asked Michelle about it this afternoon.”

From her desk at the police station, Carlisle cringed. “What did Michelle say?”

“She denied any problems. She was upset that Maddy would have been talking to anyone else about the restaurant’s business. She…” Clara flashed back to Michelle’s final words to her that afternoon, and the look of pity she had given her.

“She what, Clara?”

“Nothing. She thought I should leave the investigating up to you.”

“I think so too, but I don’t believe you will. I want you to be very careful about making accusations, Miss Gardner. If you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, if you stir up suspicions or make accusations, my partner and I might end up looking for you next. Don’t take chances.”

“I’m not.”

“Meeting with Ben Radcliffe before we had a chance to clear him, asking Michelle if her business was struggling?”

“Somebody has to ask.”

“You’re right. I do. Detective Kincaid does. You don’t need to be that person.” She sighed. “Just be careful. Now, did you learn anything new today?”

Clara told the detective whom she had talked to and what they had said, but if she was expecting Carlisle to reciprocate, she was disappointed.

“We’re looking into phone records and financials. My partner or I will be in touch as soon as we learn anything helpful. And I expect you to tell us everything you learn as soon as you learn it. Things that may seem unimportant to you could be crucial. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

As soon as she hung up the phone it rang again.

She answered, “Hi, Ben.”

“Hi, Clara. How are you?”

“Clean. Frustrated. I’m back at Maddy’s place.” There was silence for a moment. “I just talked to Detective Carlisle. She gave you the probably-all-clear.”

“They didn’t throw me in jail. Clara, I would never hurt Madeline, or anyone else. I hope that you’ll trust me and let me help you find her, but I also understand that everyone must seem suspicious to you right now.”

Clara had to make a decision to either accept Ben’s help or not; she decided to take a chance and go with her gut.

“Do you have plans tonight?”

“I’m all yours,” he said, and she thought she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I talked to Michelle and she didn’t know anything about any financial troubles at Dovetail. I don’t know how to get to the truth of that, but I do know that the question made Michelle mad. Right now all I can think to do is go through Maddy’s emails – I still have her computer. Do you have any other ideas?”

“The cops will probably get a warrant for Maddy’s phone records, and when you’re done with it, you might consider handing over her computer too. As for Dovetail, unless Michelle gives them permission to go through the restaurant’s financials, they won’t get access. Is there anyone else at Dovetail you can ask?”

“Maybe the floor manager, Susan, but Michelle is the general manager, so she’s really in charge of knowing what comes in and what goes out. Maybe something in Maddy’s bank records?”

“You’d have to have her password, unless she still gets paper statements.”

“I have her password,” she said, thinking back to the list of letters and numbers in Maddy’s desk. “Want to get take-out and look through it with me?” Clara thought that Ben would know what to look for in her sister’s bank accounts, but she also needed the company.

“What would you like for dinner?”

“Why don’t you just come over? We can give the laptop a look-see and decide later what we want to eat. Unless you’re hungry now?” Suddenly this was feeling like a date.

“Nope. I’m ready to go. Give me five minutes.”

Clara looked down at her bathrobe. She needed to dress and put some make-up on.
Just a little make-up. Just to be civilized. Not because Ben is incredibly attractive.
“Give
me
fifteen.”

“You got it.”

She hung up the phone and dashed to the bathroom for a little blush and a little mascara, tousling her hair under the blow dryer for a minute. At her suitcase, she considered her limited options for too long and finally opted for the same pair of jeans she’d worn earlier and a dark grey, cashmere V-neck over a pin-striped silk camisole. She went to the kitchen to heat water for tea, and when she had the cups and saucers on a tray, the downstairs bell rang. Checking the video to make sure it was Ben, she buzzed him up and waited with the door open.

The elevator doors parted and Ben emerged in dark blue jeans, a pale blue t-shirt and a navy pea coat. He looked really good in jeans and she stood there without saying a word as he approached. “You look very handsome, Ben,” she said bluntly as he kissed her on each cheek.

He smiled, a little surprised. “Thanks. And you look very beautiful, Clara.”

They stood in the threshold gazing at each other. “Aw, shucks,” she finally replied, breaking the spell.

She invited him in and took his coat, hanging it in the closet. “I made tea. Or I can raid Maddy’s wine cabinet if you prefer?”

“Maybe later. Tea sounds great.”

She poured hot water over the Earl Grey and brought the tray to the coffee table. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing to the worn leather easy chair, and took a seat on that side of the sofa. “It needs a few minutes to steep.”

“Are you holding up okay?”

She shrugged. “I guess. The hardest part is feeling useless. I want to take the next five steps that will lead me to my sister, but I don’t know what those steps are. She doesn’t have an angry boyfriend. No one noticed a stalker – which doesn’t actually rule one out. Her restaurant may or may not have been losing money, and that could provoke the thief to harm her. Or, it could be a stranger abduction, or something worse,” her voice faltered, “and, how do I even begin to find her if it was random?”

Ben leaned over and wrapped his big hand around hers, giving it a squeeze. “That’s a lot of maybes. We can keep asking about strange admirers. If there was one, and he turned into a stalker, someone must have noticed. It may just be a matter of asking the right person. We can also start looking at her bank accounts and see if there are any indications of financial problems. If we find one, I can give you a hundred reasons it might incite violence. Money is the root of a lot of crimes in this world. As for the random stranger, have you considered posting signs around Gigi’s and on this block? Someone may have seen her get into a car or cab outside of the restaurant, or if she went home that night and left again, someone may have seen her downstairs on the street. It might not lead us straight back to Maddy, but those are a few steps in the right direction.”

Clara was overwhelmed with gratitude. Ben had arrived with a plan and she was going to follow it. She watched Bea sidle up to him, cautiously smelling his suede shoes and then his jeans before she jumped into his lap. “Hello, kitty.” He scratched her chin lovingly and Bea purred like a lawn mower.

“I’ll get Maddy’s laptop.” Clara was already thinking of the picture she would put on the flyer. She got the computer and sat back on the sofa, immediately opening a word document and messing around with font sizes until she got a really big one. She typed,
Have You Seen Me?,
then searched through Maddy’s Facebook photos until she found the picture she wanted and copy-pasted it onto the document, followed by her own cell phone number. “Here,” she said and handed the heavy black laptop to Ben, who set it on the arm of the aging leather chair to avoid disturbing the cat in his lap. Clara had chosen a head and shoulders shot of Maddy at an outdoor restaurant. She was smiling and her eyes were sparkling in the sunshine, her thick brown hair falling in waves just past her shoulders. She wore a blue T-shirt the same color as her eyes and there was a soft, happy smile on her face.

“I was there when this picture was taken.”

Clara was surprised. “Who took it?”

“Jack, when they were still dating. I met them for lunch at one of the hotel restaurants on the wharf. I thought they were made for each other, but what do I know?”

“She looks very happy.”

“I thought she was. I think Jack thought so too.”

“She ended the relationship?”

“That’s the impression I had, but neither of them talked to me about it. Jack was pretty disappointed and Maddy didn’t seem quite as bummed out about it, but it’s hard to tell with her.”

“Tell me about it. She’s my sister and I struggle. I didn’t even know she was seriously dating anyone.” She thought for a few seconds. “Are you sure Jack wasn’t obsessing?”

“Yep. He’s not the type. And I know Jack. He’s not just my business partner; he’s one of my best friends. Plus, when I told him what was going on he was really upset, and said he’d call the cops right away. I gave him Detective Carlisle’s number.”

“Doesn’t rule him out.”

He looked at her and set the laptop down on the coffee table, irritating Bea who jumped out of his lap with a loud meow. Clara poured tea and met Ben’s gaze, raising her eyebrows. “No,” he said finally, “it doesn’t rule him out for you, or the police, but it does for me. Fair enough?” He gave her a sexy wink.

She smiled coyly and nodded. “Fair enough. Milk?”

“No thanks. The flyer looks great. Does Maddy have a printer here?”

“Over there” – she pointed to the desk – “underneath.”

They drank their tea and printed fifty copies, and then Clara decided to print fifty more. “Just in case.” They couldn’t find a stapler but Ben said he had one in his toolbox, so they put their jackets on, leaving Bea dozing on the coffee table suspiciously close to the little pot of milk.

Clara walked with Ben a block down Pine Street toward the water and followed him through the security door of his building and down to the basement. “Tools are in my storage unit,” he explained. They walked down a wide hallway with numbered doors on either side until they got to 1001, which he opened with a key.

“This is the tidiest storage room I’ve ever seen.” It was big enough for light work on the wooden worktable. A large Craftsman toolbox sat atop the table and heavy steel hooks bolted underneath held various power tools. She noted two Bosch drills, one of them cordless and – there it was – a manual chrome staple gun. Fingering a handheld jigsaw, she felt a little smile play over her lips. “I have the same saw in my workshop.” She sighed. “At home, when I’m worried or stressed or sad, I just go to my workshop and start filing away at a piece of furniture I’ve been charged to restore – someone’s damaged family heirloom or new-found treasure – removing chipped wood, adding freshly carved pieces, until it’s whole again. And somehow, during that process, all of my troubles melt away. My direction becomes clear, the puzzle is solved, my fears abate and
I
become whole again.” She turned to look at him. “This. Right now. My sister’s disappearance is bigger than the sum total of all the problems I have dealt with in my entire life. Ever.” She laughed incredulously. “And I can’t run to my shop!”

Ben laughed with her. “You are more than welcome to share mine, Clara.” Smiling as they gazed at one another, the poignancy of the moment took hold and with it, a comfortable intimacy.

Clara broke the spell when she turned to investigate the rest of the storage room. Apart from the tools and work table there were a few boxes and four metal folding chairs, a stack of hardcover books, two industrial floor fans, a lamp and a system of shelves on casters stacked with boxes of varying sizes.

Ben hefted the staple gun in his hand, found an extra box of staples and a roll of masking tape on one of the shelves, smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

Back on the street they headed for Gigi’s and began stapling and taping signs to telephone poles, signposts and anything else they could find. Along the way, Ben asked about her workshop in Boston. “I just restore furniture,” she said diffidently. “It’s not nearly as meaningful as I led you to believe just now.”

“It’s clearly a passion.” Clara assented with a shy smile. “Do you work mainly on antiques?”

“Mainly. I also do quite a few Mid-Century and Danish Modern pieces. Mostly I work for collectors, people who’ve inherited collections and plan to sell, but sometimes I stumble on a project of my own.” She put up another sign. “It’s all in the details. A lot of people would find the work tedious, but I love it.” Clara seemed to warm to the subject and the distraction did her good. She smiled a little when she explained, “It’s not just stripping and sanding and varnishing, though that’s a lot of it. Sometimes hardware is missing and I have to find a replacement piece. It’s like detective work: hunting down a particular period, or style or design. Then I have to develop a patina to match the original hardware. Other times, if a piece of furniture has been damaged, I may have to replace some of the wood itself. That means carving and matching the wood exactly.” She hung another flyer. “I’m earning a reputation and starting to work on pieces from across the country.”

“Maddy told me that Sotheby’s recommends you to their clients.”

Clara laughed, delighted and a little embarrassed. “Occasionally, yes. I can’t believe she told you that. She must really want you to like me.”

Charmed by her obvious pleasure that Maddy had been bragging about her, Ben smiled at Clara. “Well, there’s no need to convince me. I’m already a little smitten.” The flush in her cheeks when he said it made him smile even more.