Chapter Nine
Kate wanted to believe that everything was fine, just as she’d assured Rebecca. And logic told her that she was right, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise.
When Rebecca went to get ready for bed, Kate grabbed her laptop and set it up at the kitchen table. She wanted to do more research, but didn’t want to overwhelm her daughter with suspicions about Marcus, and she wasn’t exactly sure where to start. The only thing she really had to go on was Marcus’ name and the fact that his family owned a moving company in New Jersey.
Within a few moments, the laptop hummed to life, and she plugged the landline cord into the phone jack. Normally she did Internet research at the library, where she had access to a high-speed connection, but it was late at night, so dial-up would have to suffice. After several long minutes, she finally connected to the Internet and opened Google. Then she keyed “Marcus Kingsley” into the search engine, hoping for the sake of her daughter that something helpful would come up. But other than a couple of references to his roles in various Broadway productions, there were no matches.
Then she tried “Kingsley Moving.” Still no matches. When she keyed in “New Jersey” and “Moving,” that brought up plenty of moving companies, but nothing with a name that looked as if it might be the Kingsley’s business.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca entered the room wearing a bathrobe and drying her hair with a towel. Her sudden appearance startled Kate.
Kate caught her breath, then said, “Well, I just couldn’t get those men off my mind, or the name they called Marcus. So I’m looking for information on him, and I thought I might get some clues by researching moving companies in New Jersey.”
Rebecca pulled a chair alongside her mother and gazed at the screen. “What have you found?” she asked.
“Nothing so far...Wait a second; I have an idea.”
Rebecca looked at her mother. “Mack Kieffer?”
“Exactly.” Kate nodded, then looked up at her daughter after typing in the name and waited for the page to load. “I wish I could have you around for all my sleuthing adventures.”
Rebecca laughed. “Yes, I think we’d be a pretty good team...although I probably wouldn’t be able to follow in your baking-while-puzzling footsteps.”
“Maybe you could sing while puzzling.” The two giggled, and then Kate returned her focus to the computer.
“‘Mack’ has to be Marcus’ real name,” Rebecca said as the page continued loading. “There’s no other explanation for the coincidence, right?”
Kate sat back in her chair to think.
“What I don’t get,” Rebecca went on, “is why he wouldn’t tell me something as simple as his real name. How hard can it be to tell the person you love your real name?”
“He could have changed it,” Kate pointed out.
“But still, he didn’t tell me.”
Two pages of results appeared on the screen. Most were local newspaper advertisements for high-school plays he had participated in, many with photographs of a younger Marcus Kingsley. Yet all of them bore the name “Mack Kieffer.”
Rebecca exhaled a pent-up breath.
Next Kate typed in “Mack Kieffer” along with “Moving” and “New Jersey.” This time a business popped up. Kate clicked on the link. It read “Kieffer and Sons Moving Company, West Orange, New Jersey.”
Kate glanced at her daughter, then scanned the home page.
“That’s them,” Rebecca said. “I’ve seen their pictures before.”
The names of the sons—Marcus’ brothers—and his father, Bill, appeared under a picture of the men. Kate clicked on the Contact page and waited for it to load.
After what seemed an eternity, an address and phone number came up.
“I’m going to write this information down,” Kate said. “I have a feeling we’ll need it.”
AFTER REBECCA EXCUSED HERSELF to go to bed, Kate yawned and thought about doing the same. But tired as she was, she wasn’t ready to go to bed. First, she tried Paul’s cell number again, still to no avail. No doubt he was out of signal range in the middle of the vast mountainous wilderness. Then she called Livvy. She suspected her friend would still be awake, enjoying her uninterrupted reading marathon as she often did when Danny and the boys were on one of their adventures.
“Livvy,” Kate spoke in a low voice, hoping not to wake Rebecca, when Livvy picked up the phone.
“I’m so glad it’s you, Kate. I’ve wanted to talk to you all day, but I didn’t want to interrupt your time with Rebecca.”
“Liv, you know you can call me anytime. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s just James’ band buddies. They’ve been trying to get ahold of James about the concert. I told them James would be back on Tuesday night, and they’d just have to work their plans around that. After dealing with his attitude this morning, I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” Livvy said, “and I shouldn’t be unloading on you. Anyway, why are you up so late? Anything wrong?”
“I need your help with something.”
“Okay, fire away.”
“Today, when Rebecca and I were at the diner, we saw two men snooping around her rental car. Then when we got home from an afternoon drive, they were waiting for us at the house.”
“What men?”
“I’d seen them last night at the Bristol. Marcus, Rebecca’s boyfriend, practically came unglued when he saw them, and he bolted for the restroom. They had East Coast accents and New Jersey license plates.”
“This is sounding a little spooky.”
“I know.”
“What did they want?”
“They were looking for Marcus. They claimed he was missing and called him Mack Kieffer. They even had a photo of him.” She paused. “The weird thing, Liv, is that I’ve had a strange feeling about Marcus since the moment I met him. And this just confirms that I was right.”
“Wow, Kate.”
“Tell me about it. And on top of that, when we searched the house after the men had gone, we discovered that the ring Rebecca inherited from her grandmother was missing.”
She heard Livvy take in a sharp breath. “Do you think they knew that Rebecca is Marcus’ girlfriend?”
“I’m not sure, though they never said anything about it.”
“Did they say who they were?”
“No. But they tried to give the impression that they were police officers or private investigators. Rebecca said they looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place them.”
“So how can I help?”
“I did a little online research this evening and discovered that Mack Kieffer is likely Marcus’ real name. Is there any way you could look into his record?”
“You mean police records?”
“I know that sounds awful,” Kate said. “After all, this is someone my daughter cares for deeply...but I just know something’s terribly wrong.”
“Kate, you and your sixth sense!” The women giggled, then Livvy said, “But I don’t have any way to tap into official police records, though I can search the library database for newspaper articles that list his name. And newspaper articles often include police reports.”
“That would be very helpful.” Kate would take anything she could get at this point. “I’d focus your search on papers from back east.”
“Do you know what city?”
“Marcus is from New Jersey. His family lives there and runs their moving company out of West Orange,” Kate said. She felt guilty for asking the favor, and yet she had to know the truth about this young man. Her daughter deserved the truth.
“I’ll look into it first thing,” Livvy promised.
KATE TUGGED THE COVERS up to her shoulders and glanced at the clock. It was 1:14 Monday morning. Images of the East Coast strangers filled her thoughts. The door creaked open, and Rebecca’s silhouette filled the doorway.
“Mom,” she whispered. “Are you sleeping?”
“No, honey. You okay?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Kate moved over in the bed and patted the empty space next to her. Rebecca scooted to the bed and slid under the covers.
“Just like when you were little,” Kate whispered. She brushed the long hair from her daughter’s face.
They lay there in silence for a while, then sleep finally came for both of them, restless though it was. Kate dreamed that Rebecca was on a faraway island, though she couldn’t say exactly where. Rebecca was crying inconsolably, and Kate kept calling for her in a panic but couldn’t find her. Then the trees on the island grew arms and pulled Kate into a tangled embrace. She awoke, breathing hard, glad it had only been a dream.