I shocked myself; I took the bar. “If I get any turkey and stuffing, I’ll share,” I said. “Promise.”
Six forty-five. Night had arrived under slate gray skies.
I said, “Turkey’s coming out of the oven right about now. I’m going to do a stroll around the block again, see if I can work up an appetite.”
It had been a joke, but Carmen missed it. She put a hand on my arm. “We wasting our time?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“How long can we last? Just the two of us, I mean? Tomorrow morning? What then?”
I’d thought about that, too. “I’m hoping something new develops with the investigation, something we can use to get the local police willing to help keep an eye on Holly. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll go talk to Holly again, see if I can get her to go stay with one of her sisters in Chicago for the weekend.”
“I know which sister I’d choose.”
“Yeah. Artie doesn’t seem likely to have a dominant good-host gene, does he?”
“I’m sorry about your holiday, Sam.”
“Company’s good, Carmen. That helps.”
She didn’t miss that I said that. Her hand was still on my arm. The pressure changed. “Sam? Before you go, call Gibbs. Do you mind?”
“I didn’t think you were that attached to Gibbs’s well-being.”
“I’m not. I was just thinking that if Gibbs has seen Sterling in Colorado, then we’re all done here, right? You and me, we can pack up and go someplace together and, you know… eat.”
My heart hiccoughed during the hesitation at the end of Carmen’s sentence. Missed a beat? Double beat? I couldn’t tell. “I can do that.” I pulled out my cell phone, fit my reading glasses on my nose, checked for Gibbs’s number in the memory, and dialed. She answered after three rings.
“Hello,” she said.
The sound of Gibbs’s voice moved me like the refrain of an old song. I knew it wasn’t right that it happened that way. But it did.
“It’s Sam. Hey, how you doing?”
“Did Alan Gregory tell you to call?”
What was that about?“Nah. Just wanted to be sure you’re safe. We haven’t talked. Where are you?”
“Vail. A motel.”
“Is it pretty?”
“Low clouds. It’s okay.”
“Here, too. Low clouds. Gray.”
“I hear the South is like that sometimes.”
She sounded cryptic. Maybe she was aggravated to be alone on the holiday in a motel. I could relate to that.
“I’m not in Georgia anymore. I drove north. I’m up in Indiana.”
“You are? Why on earth would you go to Indiana? Where?”
“Currently, South Bend.”
“Really? Do you have family there? Is that it?”
“No, my family’s up in Minnesota for the holiday. I’m following up a long shot. A tip we got. Probably a waste of time. You’re okay? You haven’t heard from Sterling? Seen him anywhere?”
“I guess I’m okay. I feel terrible that my problems have kept you away from your loved ones on Thanksgiving. You shouldn’t have to do that. I wish you’d just go get on a plane and go be with your family. I’ll pay. That would make me feel better. Will you do that? Just go to the airport right this minute?”
“No Sterling?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m fine, Gibbs. Don’t concern yourself with me. You try to make the best of your holiday, but stay vigilant, okay? You’ll do that? Keep an eye out for Sterling. Give me a call if anything makes you nervous?”
“I promise. Good-bye, Sam.”
I closed the phone. “He’s not there.”
Carmen said, “Thanks for trying.”
I’d stiffened up. Let’s say pulling myself from behind the wheel to get out of the car wasn’t one of the most graceful things I’d ever done.
Holly’s house had a three-foot chain-link fence around the backyard. Since the house was on a corner, it was possible to get a real good look around the entire property by strolling the sidewalk. With ten kids inside I could hear noise and laughter from the house half a block away. I turned around at that point and retraced my steps toward the house.
On my first pass around the corner nothing had seemed amiss. On the way back, though, the latch on the backyard gate had been moved to a different position. The gate hook was one of those horseshoe latches that raise up to allow the gate to swing open and then slide back down to horizontal to lock everything into place. I was sure it was down during my first pass.
It was up during the second.
I crossed the street and phoned Carmen.
“It’s me. The latch on the back gate. You know the one?”
“The chain link?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah, I know it.”
“Was it up or down when you last came by?”
“Couldn’t tell you. Why?”
“It’s up now. I thought I remembered it being down.”
“There’s a houseful of kids in there, Sam. One of them must have run outside for something.”
“I guess. Can you see it from where you are?”
She hesitated. “No, I don’t have a good view of the gate from here.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
I crossed back across the street, waiting in the dark shadows of a big tree I thought might be an oak, and I watched the rear of the house. Laughter, chatter, kitchen activity. An occasional child’s yell. Just what you’d expect.
Nothing more, nothing less.
It took me a few minutes of watching to recognize that something was missing.
Holly.
Holly was missing. Her two sisters were making frequent appearances at the sink that was under the kitchen window. But Holly hadn’t made a single appearance since my first pass around the corner.
Not one.
I felt a sharp tug just below my rib cage and reflexively reached into my pocket to find the little brown bottle of nitro.
As I rolled it back and forth between my fingers, I continued to stare at the kitchen window. It had been dark for a while. Now it wasn’t.
I saw one blond sister. Then the other blond sister.
No Holly.
I listened to the cacophony of voices.
No Holly.
That wasn’t right.
I checked my watch. Four minutes after seven. I figured it was just about time to carve the turkey. I was guessing the brother-in-law who wasn’t Artie would be doing the honors.
I strolled closer to the house and leaned against the corner of the detached garage that was about ten yards away across the little backyard.Come on, Holly. Come on. Show your face.
Talk to me.
I called Carmen again. “Holly go out the front door for any reason in the last few minutes?”
“No. What’s up?”
“Maybe nothing. I’ve lost track of her.”
“Sam, she’s inside with her family.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
I flicked my reading glasses down, hung up, and searched for another number in my cell phone’s memory. Found it.
Holly’s number.
Four rings. Finally, a kid answered.
“May I speak to Holly, please?”
“Hold on,” the child said. He or she threw the phone onto something hard. The resulting explosion in my ear was painful.
Come on, Holly. Come on.
A minute, a dozen different voices. A loud call of “Aunt Holly?” Another. Then, “Anybody seen Aunt Holly?”
Holly’s voice anywhere in the mix? I didn’t think so.
The child came back on the line, finally. “I can’t find her. Can you call back, please?”
“Sure.”
Just then someone shoved a dull knife up under my rib cage. Rotated it side to side. Did it again. Deep.
That’s what it felt like, anyway. The pain took my breath away, literally. I did an inventory.
Pain in my neck or jaw? No.
Down my arm? No.
Sweaty? Yes, a little. Okay, quite a bit.
I unscrewed the top of the little brown bottle, popped a nitro under my tongue, and braced myself for the inevitable flush.
Here we go,I was thinking.Here we go.