Vanishing Act (6 page)

L
izzie drove her car into the garage and locked it with the remote on her visor. She entered the house through a door that led to the kitchen, where she stopped in the middle of the floor. This was the part that she hated, entering an empty house where there was no sound, no pet running to greet her. It was at times like this that she realized how alone she felt in the world. Oh, yes, her days and the early part of her evenings were filled with people and things to do, but at the bitter end she was still alone.

Lizzie looked around at her neat, tidy kitchen. Cosmo Cricket would not fit into this little house, he just wouldn’t. Until they finalized their living arrangements, she would be commuting to Las Vegas on weekends. Not that Cosmo was averse to coming here to Washington; he wasn’t. They both recognized that the house either needed to be renovated or they needed to buy a new East Coast home.

Sound was what she needed, so she turned on the under-the-cabinet Bose radio she had ordered last year. Then she turned on the television sitting on top of the counter. A jumble of noise, to be sure, a far cry from the bells and whistles of Las Vegas, but it did make her feel better.

Lizzie’s thoughts ran in all directions as she made her way through the house to the stairway that led to the two bedrooms on the second floor. The minute she stepped into the hallway, she started to shed her clothes.

Ten minutes later, her suit was hanging neatly in the closet, her shoes were on the shoe tree, and she was dressed in a pair of sweats and sneakers. She rummaged for combs in the vanity, piling the shimmering silver hair on top of her head. Her two cell phones went into her pockets. As soon as she got dinner under way, she would call Cosmo, and they would talk until her guests arrived. She brightened immediately at the thought of talking to her new husband.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Lizzie hummed to herself as she banged pots and pans, opened jars, and got out her cutting board.

Lizzie was the first to admit that she was no great shakes as a cook, but she did watch the Food Network from time to time. She especially liked the program where the host and cook prepared what she called semihomemade dinners. She’d paid attention, and now was able to prepare spaghetti that tasted like she’d slaved for hours. Thank goodness, for that was precisely what she was going to prepare for her guests.

Lizzie dumped a huge jar of store-bought spaghetti sauce into a pot, squeezed some tomato paste right from the tube into the mix, and stirred. A can of fire-roasted tomatoes went in next. She chopped garlic and onions and sautéed them in a small frying pan, and the moment the onions were translucent, she spooned them into the sauce. In the blink of an eye she chopped basil and parsley and scooped it into the pot. She frowned as she remembered who her guests were. Maggie Spritzer could eat the whole pot of sauce on her own, so she added two more jars of the bottled sauce, squeezed in some more tomato paste, then chopped and sautéed more garlic and onions. Cosmo said his favorite scent in the whole world was the smell of frying onions and garlic. She had to admit she loved the aroma herself.

Continuing with the semihomemade theme, Lizzie preheated the oven, took a berry pie out of her freezer, and waited ten minutes before crimping the edges and making fork marks all around. What’s-her-name on the semihomemade show said guests always looked at the edges to see if they were cookie-cutter or homemade. Fork marks made it look homemade. Then Lizzie brushed an egg white over the top, covered the crimped edges with tinfoil, slid the pie into the oven, and set the timer.

The kitchen clock told her she had ninety minutes before her guests arrived. Time enough to set the dining room table, cook the pasta, and get a salad ready. Five minutes later she had a bag of four kinds of lettuce washed, drained, and in a wooden bowl. She added some cherry tomatoes, sliced a cucumber and a purple onion, tossed the whole thing lightly with her fancy-dancy salad fork, and the salad was ready. The dressing was a combination of three store-bought bottled dressings that she poured into a gravy boat. Semihomemade was a lifesaver.

She could talk to Cosmo while she prepared the coffeepot, got out the dishes, and carried them into the dining room. The last thing she did was fill a large pot with water, add some extra-virgin olive oil, throw in a pinch of salt, and put it on
SIMMER
for the pasta.
Finito!

Lizzie popped a ginger ale and sat down, but not before heaving a huge sigh. Her voice was soft and intimate when she said, “Hi, Cricket, it’s me.”

Lizzie’s guests all arrived within five minutes of each other. All sniffed appreciatively, commenting on the delectable aromas wafting through the house. Lizzie felt smug, it didn’t get any better than cinnamon, garlic, and onions. Comfort food, and that was what Lizzie was trying to convey to her guests. From the sounds of their voices earlier, they all needed it.

There was a camaraderie, a genuine fondness for each other as they all hugged and babbled about how good it was to meet in a semisocial situation.

Lizzie served wine and beer as they all gathered around her dining room table. She started off by saying there would be no business conducted until their meal was finished, just the way the Sisters did things on the mountain.

The dinner was family style, everything in the middle of the table so that everyone could help themselves. Conversation was lively and at times boisterous when Ted and Maggie discussed the nude beach they’d visited on their trip north. Lizzie’s impressive winnings in Las Vegas were discussed in great detail.

“Then, before we left the casino I decided to play twenty more dollars and guess what? I won a hundred dollars! Twice I got three cherries. Do you believe that? Cosmo said I had the makings of a gambler. I think he was joking, but I was
sooo
excited. Maybe he was serious. Do you suppose I could shut down the law practice and spend my days making the rounds of the casinos?” She giggled.

Her guests were in awe. None of them had ever heard Lizzie Fox giggle. Ever.

“What did you do with your winnings?” Maggie asked as she cut herself a second slice of pie.

“I was going to buy Cosmo a drink, but he said no. He doesn’t believe in the woman paying for anything, so I donated all my winnings to the
SPCA
for a free neutering program they have going on. Cosmo matched my donation, so it was a win-win.” She giggled again, to everyone’s delight.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie could see that Harry Wong was starting to get fidgety. It was time to get down to business. She was surprised when Ted and Joe Espinosa got up and volunteered to clean up.

When both men were in the kitchen, Lizzie whispered to Maggie, “How hard was it to train Ted to take care of kitchen duties?”

Maggie finished her pie, wiped her mouth, and whispered back. “It was so easy, Lizzie. ‘No sex unless you do your share.’ Hey, I cook, he has to clean up. That’s fair. Wow, I am stuffed. I never thought meatless spaghetti could be so good. How about giving me the recipe?”

Lizzie giggled again. “No can do, old family recipe.”

Ted carried in the coffeepot, and Espinosa had the cups and saucers. The table was clear, the signal that pads, pens, and briefcases were ready to be brought out to play.

“Talk to me, Harry, and do not leave anything out. I want you to go back to the beginning of the year and tell me everything you can remember. I don’t care if you think it’s pertinent or not to this case. I’ll decide what’s important and what isn’t.”

Harry talked and talked, from time to time choking up at the injustice of what he was being forced to go through.

When Harry wound down, Jack took the floor and talked about Harry’s box of unopened mail. “There were notices of nonpayment on the home equity and second mortgage that Harry had never opened because, like he said, he paid ahead for a year. He had no idea there was an equity loan or second mortgage. There were also credit card bills for all the bogus accounts some person had opened up. When Harry saw the envelopes, he figured they were probably just offers for him to open new accounts. In that sense Harry is not blameless. He should have opened his mail. As you can see by the two legitimate credit cards he carries, he only uses them once in a while, and he pays the outstanding balances in full in the months that he charges something.

“But regardless of whether he opens his mail or not, no one has the right to steal and ruin a person’s life.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Jack. I’m on your side,” Lizzie said.

“Lizzie, how much is this going to cost? All my money is gone. Will you take an IOU?” Harry’s voice was fretful.

Lizzie looked Harry in the eye and winced. “Harry, I can’t believe you asked me that. I know it wasn’t your intention to offend me, but you did. We’re family here. Family doesn’t charge family. We will not
ever
talk about this again, do we understand each other, Harry?”

Harry turned docile, something Jack never thought he would live to see. He was further astounded when Harry meekly said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Lizzie moved on. “Maggie?”

“I put a hacker friend of mine on it early this morning. He should be getting back to me sometime this evening unless he’s hit a snag.”

Lizzie looked puzzled for a moment. “Isn’t that Charles’s job?”

Maggie shrugged. “Possibly. If Charles or the girls don’t want my information, assuming I get any, I can use it for the next series I plan on doing. Being in the newspaper business, it’s a given that you can never have too much information. Abner Tookus is the best hacker in the world. The
FBI
and the
CIA
use him. He even writes software for them and always makes sure there’s a back door where he can get in and out without their knowing. It’s like being a painter and signing your name on your work. If there is information to be gotten, Abner is the one to get it.

“I had to pay him an exorbitant fee, and I also had to spring for his honeymoon. That’s how sure I am he can get us what we need. He knows all bets are off if he can’t deliver.

“I spent the day going through the series we ran on identity theft victims. Ted and Joe will be revisiting those same people again to see what if anything will come up. Now that we know Harry’s mail habits, we have something more to go on. If he pays all his bills at the beginning of the year, then it falls right into place with the other victims we interviewed, which leads me to think it’s a ring of people, as opposed to one person, because that’s around the time someone stole all their identities. The major difference is that the other victims were immediately made aware of what was happening when they opened their mail to see their credit card statements and notices from their banks. All the victims were cleaned out like Harry was. Ergo, my reasoning for thinking it’s a ring. It’s a pattern, and it took a lot of effort on the part of a lot of people to bring it off in a short period of time.”

“Definitely makes sense,” Lizzie said thoughtfully as she scribbled notes on the pad in front of her. “Did you send copies of the profiles to the mountain?”

“I sent them out midmorning today. I suppose it’s possible they might pick up on something, but I doubt it. First thing tomorrow morning, after Ted and Joe visit the other victims again, they’ll visit their credit card companies. Depending on what Abner comes up with, I might have to engage his services for phase two. It’s a crapshoot, Lizzie.”

Jack weighed in. “I find myself wondering if the perp, or perps, is someone all these people know. How were they chosen by the perp? Do they know him or her? Is it someone involved in their daily lives? With Harry it could be anyone. He has private classes. He works with the local police, and he works with the
FBI
and the
CIA
. The list is almost endless. A disgruntled class member or parent of one of the kids or some hyped-up kid who thinks he’s smarter than the law.”

Maggie shrugged. “All of the above. We’re blind at the moment, but with Abner, Ted, and Joe on it, not to mention Charles and the girls, we should come up with someone or some group that will pique our interest. We have to start somewhere.”

They talked for another hour and a half, with Lizzie making copious notes. When they finally said good night at eleven o’clock, Lizzie knew what she had to do. She gave Harry a quick hug and told him not to worry. Harry just nodded as he followed Jack out to his car.

Maggie stayed on a few moments longer, chatting with Lizzie about her new married life. “It must be hard with you here and Cosmo in Vegas. I know you probably talk throughout the day, but it isn’t the same as being together. But”—she winked at Lizzie—“I bet the reunions are spectacular.”

Lizzie laughed. “You could say that, Maggie. You could say that.”

Ted smirked as he followed Espinosa out to the car. Since Maggie had come by cab, he waited for her, hoping she was in a romantic mood.

Maggie dashed whatever hopes he had of a romantic close to the hectic day when she said, “I’m beat, and I’m sluggish from all that food I ate, so don’t go getting any ideas that I’m going to be easy.”

Ted huffed and puffed as he got behind the wheel.
Oh, well, Sunday is another day.

A
ll the way home in the car, Maggie grumbled about how she couldn’t believe Abner Tookus hadn’t gotten back to her. She looked over at Ted, whose mind she knew was on sex, and said, “Abby is really an odd duck, works through the night sometimes and sleeps during the day.” When there was no comment from Ted, she started to mumble and mutter to herself. “I know Abner will get back to me,” she kept saying over and over to herself in the hopes that it would happen. “He promised, Ted, and to date he’s never broken a promise.” Maggie wondered if her old buddy would really come through for her. Or had he taken her for a ride? She deep-sixed that thought almost immediately. Abner knew she’d either kill him or sic the vigilantes on him. On his honeymoon if he didn’t come through, she thought grimly.