It was still raining when I got outside. I stood for a moment on the porch, fumbling with my car keys in my jacket pocket. They slipped out of my hand and landed in a puddle.
Oh great, I thought savagely. There goes two hundred bucks to get another fob to unlock the beast. I just knew it wasn’t going to be my night.
I squinted and stepped out into the wind and rain. The raindrops pummeled my face, stinging harder than a slap by a pretty girl.
I bent down, fished the keys out of the water, and pushed the unlock button. Sure enough: nothing.
I stuck the key into the lock and turned it… and the frickin’ alarm sounded. Crap! Don’t you hate it when it does that?
I scrambled in behind the wheel, stuck the key into the ignition, shut the alarm off, and fired up the motor.
The car hummed as the rain pounded on the roof. I tapped the screen on my phone and the Bluetooth connected.
“Call Kate.”
“Calling Kate Gazzara’s cell.”
Detective Sergeant Kate Gazzara—yeah, she was still a sergeant back then—was my partner on the force and a force to be reckoned with herself. I was hoping she could give me a hand with Phoebe’s kidnapping—well what I thought was a kidnapping. Seeing the note though, “It’s time to come home,” I was beginning to have my doubts. Still, I figured I should follow up, just in case.
After a couple of rings, she picked up.
“What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.”
“Nice to talk to you too. Hot date?”
Kate and I had been dating for quite a while. She’s stunning, a classic beauty, almost six feet tall and in amazing shape: slender, dirty blonde hair and a smile… Well, you get the idea.
“Bubble bath,” she said. “I haven’t had one in a year, but I finally managed to carve out a few minutes of peace… and then you called. So what do you want, Harry?”
The thought of her naked in the tub was more than a distraction.
“Do you know who Phoebe Marsh is, Kate?”
“Of course I do. Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t… didn’t, not until tonight anyway. What’s the scoop with her and her dad? They get along?”
She didn’t answer.
“Hello?” I said.
“Sorry. I was taking a sip of wine. What was your question?”
Damn! I thought. Are you serious?
Normally, she’d be all over me, asking questions and poking around, wanting to know why I was being nosey, but she was either giving me the cold shoulder or she just didn’t care. Something was up, and I wanted to know what it was.
“Phoebe Marsh? What is it with her and her dad? Do they get along, or what?”
“How the heck should I know? He’s in jail, I know that, and I know that she’s his only kid. That’s about it. Maybe you should watch the news once in a while.”
“Come on now, Kate. You know what that’s like. I need answers from someone who knows—”
“Then call your dad,” she interrupted me, “and ask him about Phoebe’s father. I’m sure he can fill you in.”
What the hell? Who the hell kicked her cat, I wonder?
“Are you mad at me, Kate?”
Silence.
“Okay. What did I do?”
“Why don’t you check the calendar on your iPhone and call me back.” Kate hung up.
Uh oh! What have I missed?
Technology doesn’t scare me, but I do prefer to keep track of my appointments on paper, in a book. That way they don’t accidentally get deleted and hackers can’t access my private info. My spiral-bound calendar lives on the desk in my office at the condo, but I hadn’t checked it in days. I didn’t need to; I didn’t work anymore.
I shook my head, wondering if maybe she’d put something into the calendar on my phone. If she had, it was her bad. She knew I never look at the damn thing, not even to check the date.
I pulled the car over in a Dollar General parking lot and grabbed my iPhone, opened up the calendar and… Oh crap, there it was.
I closed my eyes, but in my mind’s eye, all I could see were those huge hazel eyes looking reproachfully back at me. I’d screwed up again. We’d been seeing each other for almost eight years and were both comfortable enough with the relationship… but lately, my constant screw-ups had been kinda stretching things… just a little.
Damn it, I thought. It’s her birthday.
“Call Kate,” I said, quietly, feeling like shit.
The phone rang several times and then went to voicemail. I tried again.
“Call Kate.”
Come on… come on… answer the friggin’ thing. But she didn’t.
Oh well, I thought, I guess I should let her cool off. I’ll send her flowers and maybe she’ll talk to me tomorrow.
In the meantime, I had a visit to make.