Lost Cargo (25 page)

“The popcorn’s done,” Monroe said. “I’ll be right back.”

He got the popcorn and looked around for a bowl. He knew where she kept the cereal bowls, but he wanted something bigger.
Gotcha
, he thought, spying a large bowl in a cabinet over his head, but when he lifted it out, a package tumbled to the floor.

Tiny shirts. Doll clothes. What was she up to?

No, he realized with amazement. Baby clothes. He pulled down an armload. More tiny shirts with yellow chicks, cartoon animals, and winking trains with big, friendly eyes. A bib, a fleece receiving blanket, knitted shoes and socks. Euphoria and panic spread over him. Pregnant! She was pregnant, or she wanted to be pregnant, and for some reason she was hiding it from him. He put the tiny clothes away. They weren’t ready for children, not by a long shot.

“Popcorn?” he asked, slipping back into bed.

She wrinkled her nose. “No, I don’t think I can handle it.”

“So what’s with all the baby clothes in the kitchen?”

For a moment she froze. “Oh, they’re for a baby shower.”

“That many clothes? What’d you do, buy out the store?”

“I guess I got carried away.” She gave him a nervous look. “Monroe, what do you think about us having a baby?”

Baby fever. “Sweetheart, someday we’ll have a baby.” He kissed her temple. “Someday we’ll have seventeen babies and fourteen bulldogs, but right now I don’t want to share you with anybody. I want you all to myself.”

“Bulldogs,” she said with disgust. “I don’t want to hear about your bulldogs again. I’m serious, Monroe. I want to have a baby.”

“Look, you’re thinking about babies because you went out and bought all those clothes for your shower, but come on, Annie. We’re not ready for children. I told you, I want to finish law school before we start a family.”

“You’re a part-time student. You’re going to be in school forever.”

He drew away. “I have debts. The funerals for my parents. The lawyer that tried to track down their records because the storm destroyed everything. That’s why I’m working full time and going to night school. We’ve talked about this.”

Her pretty face grew rigid. “So you don’t want a child until you go all the way through law school at night. How many years is that going to take?”

“I don’t know. We’re not that old. We have plenty of time to have children.”

“Other people don’t wait until everything’s perfect.”

“How would I study with a baby in the apartment?”

“I don’t want to wait a hundred years to have children.”

“A hundred years. Come on, it’s not going to take a hundred years. I’m not going to give up making something out of my life, Annie. We should have talked this out before we got married. Maybe getting married was a mistake.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

She turned away. “Well, maybe our marriage isn’t important to you.”

He knew she was fishing for reassurance, but her comments about law school and children had hit a nerve. He pulled on jeans and a sweater and found his coat.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “I’m going over to the apartment and pack up the rest of my stuff.” He left, feeling her eyes on him. When he reached the street the cold went right through him. The storm was blowing hard, beginning to cover the sidewalks and cars with a coat of ice, but after he struggled through it for two blocks he found a cab at Dupont Circle, got in, and slammed the door. Slammed it hard.

Couldn’t sleep. Travis was wondering if the wind was going to rip the windows right out of their frames when somebody came in the front door, moved around in the hall, and banged the door shut. It had to be Monroe. Then footsteps hurried through the kitchen and half-ran down the stairs to the basement apartment.

Monroe the newlywed. Weirder than weird.

Travis stumbled into his jeans and headed downstairs. The basement lights streamed up the stairs. When he stuck his head in the apartment, he could see Monroe, grim-faced, hair soaked, coat thrown on the back of a chair, pitching the last of his books into a cardboard box as if he was on a mission. The apartment was mostly empty with just a few scattered odds and ends, nothing that had to be packed at midnight. Nuts.

“Hey, Monroe,” Travis said. “What’s up, man?”

Monroe didn’t look up. “Taking the rest of my stuff.”

“Yeah? Where’s Annie?”

“Home.” Monroe’s expression was a sealed vault.

“Everything okay with you two?” Travis took one step down the stairs. The basement apartment had a desolate echo. Something was definitely wrong, but Monroe didn’t look like he was in the mood for a big midnight confession.

“Yeah, sure,” Monroe said. “And I want to get that jacket you borrowed.”

Embarrassed, Travis tried to remember where he’d left it. “You know, it’s at a friend’s house. I’ll text her and get it back for you.”

Monroe didn’t answer. Ill at ease, Travis went back to the kitchen, put on the coffee, and texted Lexie. Monroe and Annie must have gone at it. He’d heard them arguing during the week. Well, it was none of his business. They’d make up again before the night was over.

As soon as he sent the message, the phone rang.

“It’s Lisa,” his sister said. Her voice sounded horrible, heavy and congested, as though she’d been weeping or was ill. “I know it’s late, but this is kind of an emergency. I want to know if you can go get my insulin.”

“Yeah, of course I will, if I can,” he said. “I don’t have a car. Where are you? Are you sick?”

“I’m at Mom’s house with a really bad migraine. Ian didn’t come home tonight, and I came over here and forgot my insulin. It’s in the refrigerator. If you take a cab, I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure, I’ll get it for you. What happened to Ian? And Mom can’t help you? I mean, I’ll need to come over there and get the key.”

“You know how she is. She doesn’t drive at night. She can’t see.”

“Where’s Ian?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Travis. I’m worried sick about it.”

Ian missing. Not good, not good at all, but there was probably an explanation. Ian was a level-headed man. When Travis hung up, he could still hear Monroe opening and closing drawers. Then the phone rang again. Maybe Ian had shown up after all.

“I got your text,” Lexie said in a cool voice.

His heart skipped a beat. “I left Monroe’s jacket at your house.”

“It’s here somewhere,” she said and paused. “I’ll drop it off tomorrow if I can have the Nikon you found in the woods.”

“Why do you want the Nikon?”

“Because the reporter wants to see the photos and he thinks he can trace the owner through the company.”

“You know, I’ll talk to you tomorrow about that. My sister’s husband hasn’t shown up and she’s sick about it. She’s a diabetic and I’m going to pick up her insulin as soon as I can get a cab.”

Five seconds of silence passed.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Lexie said. “You won’t get a cab in the storm.”

He stared at the sleet beating against the windows. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed, not wanting to be indebted to her for anything.

“And can I have the Nikon?” she added.

“Okay, take it. So I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

He hung up and stuck his head back in the basement apartment. “I’m going over to my sister’s condo to get her insulin, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. If you’re still here, I’ll probably have your jacket. And there’s coffee up here if you want it.”

Everybody had gone crazy.

Ten minutes later, he spotted Burke’s car, tucked his head against the sleet, and ran down the stone steps to Porter Street. He was glad to climb into the car and slam the door against the wind.

Lexie looked gorgeous in black jeans and a black coat. A storm of emotions swept across her face that matched the storm outside. He remembered standing on a high hill under the stars at his father’s home in Nova Scotia when a flash of heat lightning had revealed the whole valley before him, everything, down to the last tree and beloved fold in the land, and he felt the same way now when he looked at Lexie. Her face said she’d missed him terribly, and she was angry, too, and worst of all, disappointed in him.

Then she put the car in reverse.

“Your sister’s husband is missing,” she said.

“Yeah, she’s sick about it,” he told her. “Here’s everything, the camera and the camera bag. How’d the search for Burke go?”

She shook her head. “We didn’t find anything. They’re going back with dogs tomorrow. The police told me I have to consider that he might not be alive. You could help us look.”

“I don’t know where the black triangle is. I don’t have any special knowledge. You know they’ll destroy it if they find it. They’ll take it apart piece by piece. It’ll never fly again.”

“Travis, I’ve said this before. I don’t care if it flies again.”

He turned to face her. “When I met you, you were open-minded about
UFO
s.”

“My brother’s a prisoner. You don’t seem to understand that. Why doesn’t the pilot put him in the woods?”

“Because Burke can’t walk,” he said.

“And because people would find him and find the black triangle.”

“What would you do if you crashed here?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Look at us, going out in an ice storm to get your sister’s insulin. What would you do if Lisa was trapped in the woods instead of Burke?”

They maneuvered the icy streets in silence. Sleet blew over the deserted pavement like restless spirits on the move. He looked at her again and she looked away until the darkness closed in behind them, and before he knew it, they were in front of his mother’s house. All the downstairs lights were on.

He got out and turned around, unable to walk away without saying something. Worst of all, he’d lost his heart to her and couldn’t tell her. Emotions boiling, he stood in the open car door while the sleet struck his coat.

“It won’t work your way,” he finally said, and slammed the door. By the time he reached the porch, he expected to see her pulling out of the driveway, but she was still there, staring at him.

Miserable, he went in the house. Every lamp in the place seemed to be on, but he didn’t see anybody. Seconds later, a spoon clinked. He found his bleary-eyed mother dressed in green silk Chinese pajamas at the breakfast table, stirring a cup of coffee while she turned the pages of an old Martha Stewart magazine. A jumble of phones and coffee cups littered the table.

“Ian didn’t come home tonight,” she said.

“I heard. Lisa called me to pick up her insulin.”

“They were in Rock Creek Park, and they had an argument, and he went off by himself and never came home. Lisa thinks he took a shortcut through the woods. It’s a frightening situation.”

“She talked to the police?” he asked.

“They won’t do anything, which is typical for this city. If he doesn’t show up tonight, they want her to call them in the morning. Now, of course, if Lisa was a senator, or the mayor, and her husband fell off the face of the earth, everybody in the city would be crawling around in the woods.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Lisa thinks he probably stopped off for a drink or went to his office… except the university is closed. Or a hotel, but she says he’s never done that before.”

He was already in the front hall, racing up the steps. Ian missing. Just a fight, or worse? His mind reeling, he gave the guest room door a light tap.

“Come in,” Lisa called in a heavy voice. “Just shut the door. I can’t stand the light.”

He slipped inside and closed the door. She hadn’t bothered to unmake the bed and lay on it face down in her clothes. His eyes gradually adjusted to the dark. Gray shapes turned into Audubon prints and a stylish desk and chair. He could see his disheveled sister clearly now in the sliver of light under the door. Then she made a sudden effort to sit up and pressed her hands to her temples.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting on the floor.

She shook her head. “We were in the park, and we had a fight about money, just a stupid, stupid fight. And about the word grasp, if you can believe it. Ian always says there are things I just don’t grasp, and I let him have it.” She let out a deep breath. “So he walked off. I thought he took a shortcut through the woods, but he never came home. Sometimes married people do things like that. Now you know what you have to look forward to when you get married.”

“Not me. I’m never getting married.”

She gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, that’s what they all say. So I called the police, and they’ve got their hands full with Halloween and the storm. They want me to call them tomorrow if he doesn’t show up. Travis, my whole life is falling apart. Sometimes the world seems fine, and then it all turns upside down like some kind of a sick nightmare.”

“You look pretty sick yourself,” he said.

“My head’s killing me and my blood sugar’s too high.”

“You said the insulin’s in the refrigerator?”

She nodded. With sickening certainty, he realized this was the perfect opportunity. He could drive to Buchanan House, get her insulin, and call the cops with his phony story. Nobody would be listening over his shoulder. All he had to do was make the call from the building and get out. If the tracker would work.

“I’ll run over there and get it now,” he said.

“You think you could drive around and look for Ian?”

“What about your blood sugar? Can you wait?”

“I can wait. How’s the storm?”

“It’s not that bad. Your car has four wheel drive, right?”

“My car’s at home. I took a cab.” Lisa pressed her hands to her temples as though her head was about to explode.

“I’ll take Mom’s car,” he said.

“Travis, you’re the best brother ever,” she told him.

“You’re not bad yourself.”

She reached for a Kleenex and blew her nose. “I have one more favor to ask.”

“Anything,” he said.

“When you get there, will you give one of our cats a pill? He has a cold. The pills are in a little bottle on the kitchen counter. They’re for Shadow, our black cat. He’ll be hard to find. He hides in a closet. He doesn’t like the new place.”

Smart cat, Travis told himself.

When he went downstairs, he was stunned to find Lexie in the foyer with Monroe’s jacket in her hands.