SEVENTY-FOUR

“I’M going to put Lori Soles on speaker, so we can all hear what she has to say. Don’t make a sound,” Quinn warned, “either of you.”

We nodded and Quinn answered the call. “Good evening, Detective Soles. Have you found Clare?”

“Not yet,” Lori replied. “Washington, DC, was a bust, but we’ve got eyes on the daughter. We also tracked the getaway vehicle to New Jersey. We lost it there, but believe they could still be in the state.”

“Jersey is where Clare used to live. That’s a logical place to look.”

“We think so, too. Allegro might have taken her to stay with old friends. So we’re checking with Clare’s known associates.”

“Look, I’m on Long Island right now, pursuing leads in another case, but I want you to keep me informed. I’d like to know where that bastard took my fiancée. Does Allegro have his mobile on him?”

“No. That would have been easy, right? He left it at his Brooklyn warehouse, which we also searched with no luck. Sue Ellen and I are waiting for him to use a credit card.”

“That’s what I would do.”

“So you have no other leads for us, Mike?”

“I feel good about the Jersey search.”

“Okay, then. Keep in touch.”

“Will do, Lori.”

The call ended, and Matt and I stared at Quinn.

“I don’t believe it,” Matt muttered.

“It’s called hiding in plain sight. If I had left my mobile phone in my apartment, and it went unanswered, I guarantee you it would have set off an alarm of suspicion. But here I am, relaxed and available for consultation—with a perfectly normal explanation, if they should happen to ping my phone for its location. Okay?”

“No. Not okay,” Matt said. “You heard her. She and her partner are still aggressively looking for me—along with Clare.”

“That’s true.” Quinn leaned forward. “So if you really want to help your ex-wife and the mother of your daughter, here’s how: The police are waiting for you to use your credit card. I say use it—far away from Clare.”

“You want me to leave my own house?”

“Look, Allegro, your mother was the one who gave you up to the police. Right now the smartest thing you can do for everyone involved is lead a wild-goose chase. Go north. Use your credit card and move fast to a new area. When you get nabbed, and you will, you don’t know anything about Clare Cosi.”

Matt thought it over, but not for long.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he said. “It shouldn’t be difficult. At this point in my life, police interviews are a cheap form of entertainment.” He paused and studied me. “What do you want to do after I leave? You’re welcome to stay. This house is a good place to hide.”

In more ways than one, I thought. “I don’t really want to stay here, but—” I looked at Quinn. “Where could I go?”

“How about back to New York?” he said. “To your Village Blend?”

“What?” This time Matt and I were the duet.

“Hide in plain sight, remember?” Quinn said. “I have an appointment with a law firm on Monday afternoon. If they agree to take Clare’s case, we can start our legal fight. In the meantime, we can continue working on restoring her memories. Clare, you already have a disguise. So use it. Stay in your apartment and act the part of a Village Blend barista taking care of her boss’s cats.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Matt reluctantly conceded. “Since she has breakthroughs with sensory keys, then she probably should be back in the home she loved. Do it, Clare. It may turn out to be your best chance to reconnect with who you were before you went missing.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about going back. But I agree. It’s a good plan.”

Matt put down his wine and stifled a yawn. “I’m done in. I’m heading up to bed now. Take care of the dishes, will you? I’ll be up early, crack of dawn, if I want to catch the first ferry. Be sure to lock up and set the alarm when you go. I’ll leave a key and the pass code.”

“Wait,” I said, catching him as he headed for the stairs. “You’ll really be gone by morning?”

“I wish I could stay with you, Clare, but it’s clear I can’t. I’ll do the best I can to buy you time.”

“Where exactly are you headed?”

“Connecticut first. And then Rhode Island. After that, I guess to Massachusetts, Vermont, and Maine.”

“You probably have an old girlfriend or four you can look up, right?”

“Hell, you know me. If I can’t find an old one, I’ll charm a new one.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m happiest when I’m traveling.”

“I know you are. Before you go, can I tell you something?”

“You’re asking, but you’ll tell me anyway, right?”

As he folded his arms and waited, I took a breath, hoping I’d say this right—

“Matt, this place, this Hamptons Babylon, it’s not who you are. My memories of you—the fearless coffee hunter and global explorer—aren’t about a man who lived his life for status or money. The guy I remember would rather sleep in a tent under real stars than in a McMansion next to the Hollywood kind. And you know what? Except for being a terrible husband, he’s not a bad guy. In many ways, he’s a fairly awesome human being.”

Matt grunted, looked away—at the stark walls and pretentious ceiling—and, instead of arguing, quietly nodded. He seemed a little sad when his gaze returned to mine, but a more genuine expression was there, too, one I hadn’t seen since we got here.

Stepping close, I opened my arms and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Matt Allegro. I mean it. Thank you for loving me.”

“I always will. Remember that.” He squeezed me tight and kissed my cheek. Then he let me go.

“Take care of her, flatfoot.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Clare. I’ll see you soon—I hope with better memories.”

“Me too.”