After Nick hung up the phone, he stood to stretch his six-foot frame. Vernon Armfield had been at the office just like his wife had said. In fact, his secretary had pulled him out of a meeting. Nick didn’t know why he’d thought the man wouldn’t be in. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. There was something about the man Nick didn’t like. He had visions of Armfield going to Mindy’s place to destroy evidence before he had a chance to get there.
Ever since Gordon had tossed that piece of paper concerning Mindy Davidson’s disappearance on his desk, Nick had experienced flashbacks of his high school crush on Rebecca Davidson—he didn’t want to call her Armfield. The thoughts had been especially strong since he’d seen her yesterday. Nick knew he should probably ask someone to go with him and Rebecca to the condo, and he supposed guilt had made him ask Vernon. He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he was glad Armfield was too busy to come, though the man did ask Nick to call him if they found anything suspicious or anything that led them to believe something had happened to Mindy. He had asked Nick to do this before telling Rebecca. Apparently Vernon wanted to protect his wife.
Nick sat back down. He had a gut feeling this guy knew more than he was telling. Still, he seems to genuinely care about Rebecca. I don’t get it. He’s such a contradiction. I saw a coldness in his eyes he’d seen a thousand times in the eyes of criminals. Yet when he mentions his wife, he’s got another personality altogether. Aloud he added, “I wonder if he really loves her, or if that’s just an act.”
“Talking to yourself again, Nick?”
“Yeah, Bernie. You know I’m good at that.” Nick turned his chair around to face his partner.
Bernie Wheeler was nothing like the television detectives who always get the girl. He was a good fifty pounds overweight, with thinning red hair, horned rimmed glasses, and a rumpled suit. He was not at all handsome, though no matter where he went, he was a welcome addition to the crowd. He used his manner and appearance to his advantage and often infiltrated groups whenever the job called for it.
On impulse, Nick said, “I’ve got to go see if I can find any clues about a missing person. Want to come along?”
“Sure. How long will it take?” Bernie flexed his arms, though they were more flab than muscle.
“I’m not sure. Depends on what we find.”
“Can’t ride with you then. I’ll take my car in case we don’t get through in time. I have one of those damn dentist appointments this morning. I hate to go, but it’s an evil I can’t avoid.”
“I don’t care much for going to the dentist either.”
“By the way, who’s the missing person?”
“Mindy Davidson.”
Bernie whistled. “You don’t say?”
“You know her?” Nick raised an eyebrow.
Bernie shrugged. “Seen her a few times. Good looking gal.”
“Have you seen her lately?”
“It hasn’t been too long. A week or so ago, she was in a bar I went to with some guys when Arlene was visiting her Mom.”
“Was she alone?”
“Let me think.” He frowned. “No, I think she was with someone. Don’t remember if it was a guy or a gal.”
“Think about it. See if it comes back to you.”
“I can do that. Where are we going?”
Nick gave him the address. “I have to pick up the missing person’s sister, a Mrs. Armfield. Give me about a ten minute head start.”
“Will do.”