“Hi.”
“Which would you rather do, Nicole?” I asked. “Get some sleep or help me find your mother?”
“Daddy!” Sam said as Moser said, “Honestly, Mr. Samson.”
“Help find Mom,” Nicole said. She was plenty awake now.
“I need you to tell me some things that no one but you knows.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know the address where you and your mom lived with Harvey?”
“Who’s Harvey?” I heard Moser whisper to Sam.
Nicole said, “3117 Hincot Street.”
“Good girl. And does your mom have any friends around there?”
“Laurie across the street.”
“Right across the street?”
She nodded. “With the orange door. Mom wanted one but Harvey said no.”
“Shall I get you an orange door for Christmas?”
She nodded, vigorously considering how tired she was.
“What school did you go to before you and your mom moved here?”
“Ninety-three.”
“Did you like it there?”
Nod.
“I bet they liked you there too.”
A little shrug. Then a nod.
“What’s your mom’s name?”
“Elaine.”
“Elaine what?”
“Warren.”
“And are she and Harvey married or is he your mom’s boyfriend?”
“No.”
“No?”
“He was her boyfriend. We don’t put up with him anymore.”
“And does your mom have any brothers or sisters that you know about?”
“Bobby. But he died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He did magic. He found an egg in my ear.”
I took a close look at one of her ears. “Yeah, I’d say there was room for an egg in there.”
She smiled as she rubbed the ear in question.
I said, “And how about your mom’s parents. Do you know them?”
A nod.
“Where do they live?”
“Crawfordsville.”
“Are their names Mr. and Mrs. Warren?”
A nod, but then uncertainty. “I guess.”
“Do you know their first names?”
“She’s Lily. He’s... um. Oh, he’s Wayne.”
“And do you like them?”
A nod.
“My grandmother used to make pies, just for me,” I said. “Does Lily do that for you?”
Shake of the head.
“Well, I’ll tell her to get her act together,” I said.
“Yeah!” Nicole said. Then she yawned.
I said, “I’m going to let you go to sleep now.”
Nicole looked from me to Moser and back to me. “I want to stay here, in case Mom comes home.”
“I’ll see what we can arrange.” I gestured to Sam to take over distracting the little girl.
I led the social worker a few feet away. “Look,” I said, “I know you want to get this all settled.”
“I want what’s best for Nicole,” Moser said.
“If I can find her mother in a reasonable amount of time, that would be best, wouldn’t it?”
“As long as she’s able to provide a safe environment.”
“Can you hang on here for a while?”
“Do you know where Elaine Warren is?”
I was tempted to say yes just to get the guy to agree, but I saw Nicole paying attention to us. “Not for sure, but I have an idea. And I’ll give finding her a damn good try. Plus, you’ve seen that Nicole doesn’t want to leave. I’d appreciate it if you’ll give me some time.”
Moser looked at his watch.
I said, “Think about all the paperwork you’ll save if I’m successful.”
Moser turned out to be one of the good ones.
11.
Whitney Moser began to gather bits of bed and bedding to make Nicole a place to sleep and I took Sam to the front porch. “He’s going to stay here with Nicole while I have a crack at finding Elaine.”
“Where is she?” Sam said.
“I have no idea.”
“Great.”
“But I might know someone who does.”
“I want to help, if I can, Daddy.”
“Officially or as a caring human being?”
“Can you stop being you for a moment and just tell me what you have in mind?”
I had a moment in which I visualized Wolfgang the extraterrestrial in his hospital bed, bandaged and receiving drips. My feeling of isolation from the world I inhabit can be as self-created as his. “Sorry. I’m going to try to become a better person.”
“Perhaps you can postpone that too,” she said, looking at her watch.
“I want to start by looking at 3117 Hincot Street. If I can find it.”
“Want to follow me and my GPS?”
Hincot was a short, dead-end street behind an old shopping center a couple of miles south of the city’s center. It didn’t appear to be a bad neighborhood, but then again, it didn’t appear much at all. The GPS had brought us to a dark stretch between two streetlights that didn’t work. Or that had been shot out. I’ve never owned a gun in all my years as a P.I. but for a moment I was glad Sam-the-cop was packing.
However, the only trouble we encountered was not being able to see the house numbers without our flashlights, what with the darkness and the rain.
But we found 3117, which turned out to be the top half of a duplex. Both halves were dark.
“What do you think?” Sam asked.
“I’m going to walk around back in case Harvey’s sitting in his kitchen drinking himself silly by candlelight. You could make a note of the license-plate numbers of the cars parked nearby along the street.”
“You think one of them is Harvey’s?”
There were only a few cars on the street, none parked in front of the duplex, so the chances weren’t good that they were relevant. But who knew?
My squishy stroll around the property did not reveal Harvey lit up round back. Or any evidence of occupation at all. There were also no cars on the alley pull-in space behind the house. Maybe everyone was out partying.
But when I returned to the front, Sam’s was not the only umbrella over the sidewalk. She was talking with a woman.
Sam said, “Daddy, this is Laurie. She lives—”
“Across the street and has an orange door.” I stepped forward with a hand extended. “Nicole told us about you. Once we checked to see whether Harvey was at home we were going to come over and see you.”
Laurie’s hand was soft and warm, both pleasant qualities to experience when you’re standing under an umbrella on a cold, rainy night.
“Are you a cop too?” Laurie asked.
Sam said, “Laurie came over because she thought we looked like we were police.”
“I leave the weighty burden of badge-carrying to the youngsters,” I said.
“I thought maybe you were here because you’d arrested Harvey and wanted to check out his house, that kind of thing,” Laurie said.
“Laurie,” I said, “why do you think Harvey’s done something to be arrested for?”
“Can you see my face?” she asked, and turned her head.
Sam lit Laurie’s face with her flashlight, revealing puffy bruising around her left ear and cuts that looked like scratches on her neck.
“Are you saying Harvey did that?” I asked.
“He certainly did.”
“Why?”
“He thought I knew where Elaine was, that I was holding out on him.”
“When was this?”
“This morning.”
“And did you report the assault to the police?”
She hesitated, maybe working out that her answer could be checked. “No.”
“Why not?”
“He said it would be my word against his, and that if I told the police he and his friends would come back and really hurt me.”