While Novak searched through the life and times of Jake Purcell, a very depressed seventeen-year-old junior at the high school, I got dressed and slapped on some of Grandma’s makeup in a vain attempt to hide the ginormous bags under my eyes. I don’t think they’d ever been that big before. They were practically luggage.
I yawned my way back to the bed and my phone buzzed. Grandma sent me a slew of hiking photos and then some of the lovely and leisurely breakfast she was having. I didn’t want to think it was romantic, but it kinda was. Two old folks hanging out in a café off the Marienplatz and looking at Christmas decorations. I couldn’t remember the last time Grandad did something like that with her. Heck, he didn’t do things like that period. A two-hour breakfast with a man that didn’t eat? Not going to happen. Moe might be super-weird looking, but he was a lot more fun. I considered warning Grandad, but I doubted he would’ve been bothered. To say he trusted my grandmother was the understatement of the year. She did love him and he had the Watts charm in spades, but I was starting to wonder if that was enough.
I asked her when they were coming back and she said that they were heading back in a few minutes. She needed a nap. I said that we had a good lead and she only responded with, “Nap.”
“Turns out it’s nap time,” I said to the back of Novak’s head.
“Yes, it is.” Novak yawned. “I’m finished.”
“What do we have?” I asked.
“Everything but the finances. That’s Spidermonkey’s department.”
He opened up a window and showed me Jake Purcell’s life, at least the online portion. It was a family of three. Mother, sister, and Jake. Dad was killed in Afghanistan in 2010 and Mom was active duty Army. They’d been stationed in Stuttgart for three years. Jake wasn’t a social media guy. He had Instagram but didn’t post. Mostly, he used it to communicate with other gamers. He was big into world-building games, not first-person shooters, I’m happy to say. Grades were good. No sports or clubs. No discipline issues at school. He saw a therapist for depression and anxiety and was medicated. Novak could get those records, but he hadn’t yet.
I got a funny feeling as Novak talked. The Purcells sounded pretty average, but Jake was involved in Anton’s situation. I was sure of that and he hadn’t gone to the MPs or the school counselors about it. There had to be a reason for that.
“Show me the sister,” I said.
“I was wondering when you’d get to that.” He pushed a button and a family picture came up. The three Purcells together next to a canal in Amsterdam. “Before you ask, she’s twenty.”
“And blonde,” I said.
“Very.”
“College age. Is she here?”
He smiled. “She is. Working at Pizza Hut on post and going to college online.”
“I never considered that the blonde might be his sister,” I said quietly.
“Why would you? That German said they were never together.”
“Could be a coincidence.”
“Could be, but I doubt it,” he said. “I’ll tell you this. She’s not a hacker. Minimal interest in computers. She didn’t put the 4chan stuff on Anton’s laptop. And there’s zero communication with him.”
“Was she in his class?”
“She was AP Gov. She got a four.”
I went back to Anton’s AP books and looked at Madison Purcell’s smiling face in the photo from two years ago. Would that girl blackmail her teacher? Why? And more importantly how would she ever have known about Kimberly and the adoption thing?
“What is Madison into?” I asked.
“Typical girl stuff. Clothes. Makeup. Kittens. Clubbing.”
“Kittens?”
“She likes cats. She follows Fat Cats of Instagram, for instance.”
I flopped back on the bed. “This is ridiculous.”
“If you want my opinion,” said Novak. “It’s her.”
“We’re saying a twenty-year-old pizza maker who loves kittens and makeup set up a blackmailing scheme, got Anton Thooft to kidnap me, and hired a private jet to bring me to Germany?”
“That is what we’re saying.” He stood up and stretched. “Spidermonkey might find a financial motive.”
“Like what? She gambled away her eight bucks an hour and thought ‘hey kidnapping, that’s the ticket.’”
Novak chuckled and started packing up his stuff. “I don’t do motives. If you want me to find something, I find it.”
“What about that jet?” I asked. “How in the world did she swing that?”
“Nobody booked it and Spidermonkey said nobody paid for it.”
“But it still came to Missouri to get me?”
“It did,” he said. “My money is on a favor.”
I sat up. “A favor to that girl? She wears H&M clothes and way too much highlighter.”
We looked back at the remaining open screen where Madison smiled with her brother and mother. An innocent, happy face. I couldn’t square it with what happened to me.
“When was that taken?” I asked.
“August. Right before school started.”
“Jake looks good. Not so thin.”
“I noticed that. He’s lost weight,” said Novak as he closed the screen. “I sent you the photos taken over the last few months, but there weren’t many.”
My phone dinged and Grandma said they were pulling into the parking lot.
“Don’t park,” I texted and grabbed my hat and coat. “We’re leaving.”
“Do not leave that room,” texted Grandma with an angry emoji.
“Novak will walk me out.”
She gave me a thumbs-up and Novak agreed to be my watchdog in exchange for being allowed to sleep for a very long time as if I could stop him.
We walked out of the hotel and the Mercedes was parking. Moe and Grandma were getting out and I waved and said, “Oh no, you don’t. We’re going to Sindelfingen.”
“I’m not,” said Grandma. “I’m sleeping. That hill was bigger than advertised.”
Moe followed her and I cut him off. “Where are you going?”
“Also to sleep. I hiked for the first time since the Army and I did not miss it.”
“Hand over the keys then,” I said. “We’ve got a lead.”
“Don’t you dare, Moe,” said Grandma.
“Why are we going to Sindelfingen?” Moe asked.
“I’ve got a photo that I want Marta to see,” I said.
“Flipping text it. I’m exhausted.”
“So am I and I would, but she’s not answering.”
“She’s asleep like any normal person would be after a night of partying,” said Moe.
I turned him around and pushed him toward the car. “She’s working. She said so last night.”
“Oh, goddamn.”
“I know, I know, but this is how we roll.” I turned around to say goodbye to Novak and Grandma, but they were already through the door. It didn’t hit them. “It’s just you and me, Moe. I think Aaron’s sleeping.”
“Lucky him.” Moe got in and I followed.
He pulled out of the parking lot and I said, “We’ve identified the kid.”
“That’s not as exciting as you think.” He gave out a jaw-cracking yawn and I mean that. I heard his jaw crack.
“We’re close,” I said.
“Not to a nap.”
“I noticed you had plenty of energy to have a long breakfast with my grandmother.”
“That’s different. Janine and I have fun.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I said.
He only smiled in return and my worry got a tad bit worse.
It was sunny and quiet in Sindelfingen. The remnants of Saturday’s market were completely gone and all the shops were closed. We scored street parking and found the café to be once again packed. The line was out the door and people were even sitting at the outdoor tables with blankets, smiling over cups of coffee and plates of rolled cakes. I wanted coffee and cake but sitting outside was a no-go.
We waited in line for ten minutes, during which Moe started talking about the various pillows of his life. His favorite feather pillow. A weird one made of hard foam. His helmet pillow in Vietnam. He slept pretty well on that helmet, but I think that was pure exhaustion from trying to not get killed while killing other people.
“We’re in,” he said as we stepped over the threshold. “I was right on the edge.”
“Of what?”
“Leaving.”
I snorted and he grumbled.
Marta spotted us and waved with a tired but absolutely joyful smile.
“What would you like, Mercy? Moe?” she asked.
“Double espresso with an Americano chaser,” said Moe.
“Latte and some of that raspberry kuchen,” I said as I got out my phone.
“It’s got alcohol in it,” said Marta.
“So much the better.” I smiled and we shuffled down to the cash register.
Marta leaned over the counter. “A table is opening at the back.”
Moe didn’t wait. He was off like a shot, leaving me to pay. It was only fair. The whole trip was my idea.
Marta rang me up and the other woman behind the counter got the coffee. “So…” I asked. “How was the setup? Did they figure it out?”
“Not at all. They think they are working on the case.” Marta handed me my change.
“Oh, no. Not a love connection?”
She smiled. “I went home and Claudia came in at three in the morning.”
“I call that a success.”
Marta crossed her fingers. “Can I get you anything else?”
The people behind me were restless, so I said, “Can you come to the table for a second? We’ve got a lead.”
She nodded and turned to the next in line. Moe looked comatose when I got to the table and was listing to the side so much that several of the other patrons were looking pretty worried. I’m not sure how he stayed upright at that angle, but his eyes were open if a bit glazed.
I poked him and said, “You’re freaking people out.”
“I do that.”
“Try not to look like you’re having a stroke,” I said.
“Like you’d know,” Moe said.
“I would, in fact, up close and personal.”
Moe’s eyes flew open wide and he straightened up. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your mother.”
“It’s not only her. I’m a nurse.”
“Now you’re a detective,” he said, taking his coffee.
“It’s not permanent.”
Suddenly, he threw up his hands and said, “Nothing’s permanent!”
I pushed down his hands. “Are you having a stroke? Be quiet.”
“It’s Moonstruck. Haven’t you seen Moonstruck?”
“I’ve been busy.” I drank my latte and forked my super tender cake.
“It’s Janine’s favorite,” he said. “We’re going to watch it together tonight after dinner with Isolda.”
“Tell me it’s not a romantic comedy.”
“It’s a great romantic comedy about Italians, and there’s no criminal elements before you ask.”
“I wasn’t going to ask, but you know I’m now watching that movie with you two,” I said.
Moe threw back his first espresso and laughed. “I figured.”
“I’m going to call Fats about this.”
“And say what? Her odd uncle found a friend? She’s going to do something? I don’t think so.”
You know you’re odd?
“She’ll tell you to back off,” I said, although I wasn’t sure. Fats Licata was full of surprises, not all of them good.
“You hold onto that hope. Janine and I are friends. Deal with it.”
I was about to retort when Marta came up and sat at our third chair. “You have found the boy?”
“We have.” I showed her Jake’s picture and she clasped her hands together.
“You did it. I do not know how, but it is impressive.”
“Thanks. I’ve got another photo for you.” I switched Jake’s photo to one of his sister Madison. “Do you recognize this person?”
Her eyes went wide and she pulled back. “That’s her. That’s the woman who met the teacher. How did you find her?”
“She’s the boy’s sister,” I said.
“You don’t say,” said Moe. “A little family conspiracy.”
“I get the feeling the boy wasn’t all in. The problem is that we don’t have a motive and really anything other than it was them.”
“You will tell Viktor?” Marta asked.
I steepled my fingers over my coffee. “I figured Claudia could do that.”
She smiled. “I’ve always liked Americans. I have to go. We are very busy.”
Moe took my phone and looked at the picture of Madison Purcell and said, “I don’t think so.”
“You heard Marta,” I said. “She was meeting Anton on the right dates. Her brother was here, too. It’s them.”
He put down my phone and tapped the photo. “She didn’t put this thing together.”
“Because she’s a girl and young and pretty?”
Moe threw back his espresso and raised a wiry brow over a very moist, bulging eye. “Trust me. I know a thing or two about putting together operations.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” I said.
“From my time in the Army.”
“Naturally.”
“That girl may have done it. She may have wanted it to happen, but she didn’t put it together,” he said.
The more I thought about it, the more I agreed. For one thing, she wasn’t a computer person. Neither was her brother. “Give me one good reason,” I said just for the sake of argument.
“She’s pretty and young and a girl.”
“I will smack you.”
Moe threw back his head and laughed. The whole café jumped with the burst of noise and then settled back down to look at the two uncouth Americans with distaste.
“You should see your face.” Moe wiped his eyes with a napkin. “Oh, that was rich.”
“I can’t tell if you believe it or not,” I said.
He shook his head and leaned over to another table that was listening intently while pretending not to. “She thinks I don’t think women are capable of high crimes and misdemeanors. My boss is a woman and she directed me to work for this curvy little cupcake.”
“Don’t call me a cupcake,” I said, thinking about the Mauser in my purse.
Moe ignored me. “My niece is the biggest badass you ever saw in your life. She could snap you in half and use you to pick her teeth and she would if it were required. Do I think a pretty young woman could pull off a complicated crime? Yes, I do. I don’t think that young woman could.”
“Why not?” asked a man who was dressed in a three-piece suit with alligator shoes on a Sunday morning because we were in Germany.
“Because she works at Pizza Hut.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “A girl that works at Pizza Hut could not do the crime you are alluding to. I’ve been to a Pizza Hut in California. Criminals might work there, but they aren’t good ones.”
“I tend to agree,” I said.
The elegant man and his equally elegant friend got up to take their cups to the front. She leaned over to me and said, “I love your look. Are you that detective?”
“I am,” I said.
“Autograph?”
I gave her an autograph and the whole café was looking again.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, standing up myself.
“But my Americano,” Moe protested.
“Throw it back old man. The cupcake is on the move.”
He laughed, joined by a couple of tables, and we were out of there.
“I thought I couldn’t call you a cupcake,” Moe said.
“You can’t. I can,” I said.
“Women are confusing.”
“Like men aren’t.”
“Where to?” Moe asked as he tied a scarf around his neck.
“Weil der Stadt. Let’s go check out our not-so-mastermind.”
He rubbed his hands together and got a twinkle in his eye. “Roger that.”
It didn’t take us long to get to the little town of Weil der Stadt and was it pretty. Nestled in a valley with an intact city wall and a plethora of half-timbered houses, it was just the sort of town Grandma wanted to see and I felt a little guilty for seeing it without her.
“Well, every town’s nicer than the last,” said Moe. “Did you see that tower? I half expected someone to shoot arrows at us.”
I looked up from texting Spidermonkey, who wasn’t up yet. “It feels homey to me,” I said. “My parents’ house is a Tudor.”
“But not German like this.”
“No, not like this. Nothing’s like this.”
As if to make the point, a few fat flakes started coming down. After we drove around the town and then down a cobble-stoned lane past houses decorated with lights and evergreen boughs over the doors, there was a light covering of snow because it wasn’t charming enough.
Moe oohed and aahed over the Christmas pyramids in the windows and these beautiful arched candle holders carved out of wood depicting Christmas scenes. I didn’t have one and I needed it. Everyone needed a Schwibbogen. That’s what they’re called. I’m not kidding.
“I think we should park here,” he said, finding a spot.
“You just want to walk in the snow,” I said.
“It’s an experience. When you get to my age, you want as many as you can get.”
“Let’s do it.”
We got out and walked through the streets to find the main square with a huge Christmas tree and a statue of a pretty chill guy with a super pointy beard and a globe under one arm.
“That’s Johannes Kepler,” said Moe.
“Wow,” I said.
“Don’t be obnoxious. He was a mathematician and astronomer. Look there’s a museum.”
Regretting this big time.
“Oh, it’s closed,” said Moe. “We’ll have to come back.”
That’ll happen.
“We’re on a case,” I said.
“We have time,” he said.
“Let’s find the Purcell house.” I steered him away from the statue and museum to wander down the hilly cobbled streets and finding a charming new sight around every bend. In one little square, we discovered a fountain filled with black metal sculptures celebrating Fasching, the celebration before Lent. Moe couldn’t get enough of the witches and trolls and took at least a hundred pictures. I’d been to a couple of Fasching parades in Stuttgart and they were an experience with wild costumes designed to scare winter away. Young women got chased around by trolls and monsters to be marked up with colorful grease pens, tossed onto the parade floats, and have hay or confetti dumped over their heads. Children were rewarded for their costumes with loads of candy and the bands were fantastic. Think Mardi Gras without the drunks.
After I managed to drag Moe away, we found the Purcell house down a side street and across from a small bakery that happily wasn’t packed. We went in and I got Moe another espresso against my better judgment. Then it was just waiting to see if anyone came out. The lights were all on and they’d been home earlier. The street was parked up, but all the streets were. It was impossible to know which cars were theirs. They didn’t have a driveway.
“There’s an Italian grocery store in this town.” Moe looked up from his phone, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“Closed.”
“It might be open.”
“Closed on Sunday. Everything is closed on Sunday.”
“I keep forgetting it’s Sunday,” he said. “I could’ve used some Italian wine and some prosciutto. Another reason to come back.”
I looked at him in consternation.
“What?” he asked.
“You are a different kind of Licata. Fats never stopped for food.”
“She didn’t get that from me. Her mother is a problem. She was always on Fats about her weight.”
“Really? She doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her,” I said.
“That’s why,” said Moe. “How long are we going to wait?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Who taught you this crap technique?”
“My dad and it’s not crap. It’s surveillance.”
Moe tapped his empty cup on the table. “This espresso was terrible and I need a nap. I say we pound on the door and ask why the hell that girl decided to get you killed.”
“That’s a hard no,” I said. “I want more information before I have a confrontation. When Spidermonkey wakes up, he’ll scour their financials.”
Moe groaned.
“You can leave me here. There are buses.”
“Not a chance in hell. I don’t think that girl masterminded that disaster of a kidnapping, but you’re a sitting duck over here.”
“Hardly. I’ve got my Mauser.”
“In your handbag.”
“Where else should I have it?”
He eyed me and said, “Shoulder holster.”
“Never. That would put attention where I don’t want it.”
“There’s no avoiding that, cupcake,” he said with a grin.
I crossed my arms. “I noticed you didn’t like that other guy treating me like a cupcake.”
“He treated you like a cupcake,” Moe said. “I’m calling you one. It’s an affectionate nickname.”
“I will get Fats to kill you.”
He laughed and looked back at the Purcell house. Then my phone buzzed and it was Novak, who wasn’t as good a sleeper as he wanted.
“Did the German confirm?” he asked.
“Yep. It’s them.”
“The house is quiet?”
“How did you know where we are?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? You’ve got a tracking device around your neck,” said Novak.
“That’s not good,” I said.
“It’s fine. Let me see what’s going on in there,” he said. “Here we go. Mom is on Pinterest. Madison is writing a paper on self-harm, ironically enough. And the kid is playing a video game.”
“Not all that helpful. Has either Jake or Madison looked into me?” I asked. “Do they know I’m here?”
“They both googled you after it happened,” he said. “Looks like they were checking on your condition. Then there was some interest in St. Seb and the case there, but nothing since.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “Do they follow Aaron on Instagram?”
Novak chuckled. “Not a chance. No food whatsoever.” He paused and then said, “This is interesting. We’ve got another phone.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“A burner.”
“Sweet,” I said. “Whose is it?”
Novak typed for a few minutes and then said, “It hasn’t been on the home Wi-Fi in five months.
“That’s a long time.”
“It was super active for about two weeks and then went dark. I’m tracing the provider now, but it’s encrypted.”
“Beyond Madison’s capabilities?”
“She has no capabilities,” he said. “Looks like it’s definitely Madison’s phone. It was used when Jake was in school and the mom was at work.”
“When was it first used?” I asked.
“June sixth. This is going to take a while,” said Novak.
“You’re in Madison’s regular phone, right?”
“Sure. What do you want to know?”
I drummed my fingers on the table and Moe watched me silently. I thought he’d have his two cents like Fats always did, but he wasn’t a bulldozer like his niece. “Give me the best friend. Boyfriend. Somebody I can interview.”
Novak messed around for a minute or two and came back with, “Bad news is that Madison’s high school friends either moved or went to college back in the States.”
“But she has a boyfriend,” I said.
“She doesn’t. She’s told several of the friends that, but the contact is sporadic.”
“Is there good news?”
“She’s friends with people at work. Not close as she was with the high school friends, but they go out and do things occasionally.”
“Name?”
“MacKenzie Saperstein at Pizza Hut is the closest. Olivia Jones is in there, but not as much. She works at Burger King.”
“Can you send me their addresses and whatnot?” I asked.
“On it.”
Moe tapped the table hard. “She’s on the move.”
“Got to go,” I said to Novak and hung up.
Madison got an ice scraper out of the trunk of an old Kia and we stood to leave.
“We’ll never catch her,” I said.
“Why not?” Moe asked, leading me to the door.
“We have to get to the car.”
“It’s half a block away.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Fats said you had no sense of direction, but I thought she was exaggerating.” He opened the door for me and we walked past Madison angrily scraping ice and snow off her windshield.
“That’ll take a minute,” said Moe. “Ours is clean.”
Once we turned the corner, we broke out in a jog and jumped into our car in record time. Moe drove back to the Purcell house slowly like he was afraid of the ice and we got there just as she finished clearing the back window. Moe put on his blinker to park and Madison waved at us before she jumped in to pull out of the only parking spot on the block.
“What’s the plan?” I asked. “She’s seen us.”
Moe snorted. “She hasn’t seen us. We’re just a car wanting a spot. White Mercedes are a dime a dozen around here. I’ve seen six just while we were walking around.”
He waited until Madison turned a corner before he took off after her.
“They weren’t the same make,” I said.
“You think she knows?”
“I did.”
Moe grinned at me, showing off a golden bicuspid on his left side and I had a Home Alone flashback. “You aren’t normal.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I meant it as a compliment.”
We caught up with Madison, keeping back a few car lengths with a Smart car between us. We needn’t have bothered. She wasn’t paying any attention. Her head was bopping around to music I assume, either that or she had a spastic condition and shouldn’t have been driving. That head was really moving.
“See,” said Moe. “She’s clueless.”
“It seems that way, but she has a burner phone,” I said.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Me,” I said.
“Yeah, well, everyone else that doesn’t have a cadre of hackers on the payroll does.”
“I guarantee you that the average twenty-year-old girl doesn’t.” I told him the burner history and he nodded sagely. “I told you. Someone else is in charge. He gave her a burner and she screwed it up until he caught it.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You don’t use the home Wi-Fi for a burner phone,” said Moe. “Anyone with access to the router could see that it was on there and get nosy.”
“He knew she was doing it somehow and shut it down?”
“I would. Whoever gave it to her was monitoring the data. He’s smart enough to do that.”
I sat back and watched Madison’s head bouncing around. “But not smart enough to make the plants on Anton’s laptop convincing.”
“They were convincing to the cops. That’s what he was going for.” Moe grinned at me again. Very Harry Lime. “He didn’t bargain on you and the sister questioning it. He’s no genius. If he thought about it, he would’ve worked hard.”
“Yeah?”
“He sent somebody to nab Tommy Watts’ daughter. It doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to know a little surface work isn’t going to do it.”
“Dad wouldn’t let it go or Fats or Leo,” I said.
“Or Chuck or your grandad or flipping Calpurnia. This moron came after someone with friends. He’s not a thinker.”
“That’s why I don’t think it’s The Klinefeld Group. He gives her an encrypted burner, sets this whole thing up with a private plane but uses a teacher to grab me.”
“He’s all over the place. That’s why you’ll find him.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t feeling particularly confident. I didn’t say it, but I was feeling more and more like our non-genius had connections of his own. If he was part of The Klinefeld Group, they could easily mask him with a new identity. He could head off to Argentina as other psychos had done before.
“Are we going to Böblingen?” I asked.
“That’s my read,” said Moe.
“Work?”
“Probably.”
“You sound disappointed,” I said.
“I was hoping she was going to visit her felonious friend,” said Moe.
I laughed. “You’re hanging with me now, not the Fibonaccis. It’s not going to be that easy.”
“I like easy,” he said with another grin.
“Get used to disappointment.”
Moe left the highway and we followed Madison to the post gate. We didn’t even have a car between us anymore, but she never glanced in the rearview once. I was watching.
The gate guard checked Moe’s ID and my pass quickly, so we stayed right on Madison’s tail, following her to the packed parking lot in front of the PX complex.
“Wow,” I said. “Everybody and their mother’s brother is here.”
“It’s Sunday. Where else are you going to go if you need cat litter and a bottle of wine?”
“Good point.”
We parked about as far from the doors as possible, but we weren’t in a rush. Madison was obviously going to work. Moe and I headed in without our subject in sight. That would’ve driven Dad insane. He taught me to always have eyes on, but sometimes you can just relax. I’d learned that much on my own.
Moe slapped on his VFW hat. I’m not going to say what he called it because…gross. He couldn’t stop grinning about it though.
“I bet you wouldn’t say that with my grandmother around,” I said.
“That is absolutely right. I’d never say that in front of a lady,” said Moe, nodding to some soldiers in uniform who definitely had respect for the hat.
“Hey,” I said. “What about me?”
“You’re not a lady. You’re Mercy.”
“I’m insulted.”
“So be it. You can’t tell me you’re the same as Janine or your mother,” said Moe as we went into the building.
“What about Fats?” I asked.
“That’s more like it.”
I can see it, but it still sucks.
“I’m liking you less.”
“No, you’re not.” Moe stopped in front of a vendor with a Goufrais chocolate display.
“Would you like some samples?” the vendor asked.
“I’ll take two and give them both to my pretty friend if that’s alright with you,” said Moe.
“Of course, sir.” The vendor held out a tray with little chocolates shaped like tiny bundt cakes and I took two.
“Oh, my God,” I said. “Those are amazing.”
“I’ll take three bags,” said Moe.
“All for Grandma?” I asked.
“For you, Fats, and Janine. You and Fats might not be ladies, but chocolate is always appropriate.”
I considered saying something snide, but I had luscious chocolate and Moe was less offensive through that lens.
He paid and I wandered through the tables crowding the wide passage to the food court. It was packed with families eating burgers, fried chicken, and cheesesteaks. I didn’t really get it, but I guess it was a taste of home kind of thing. I stopped next to the drink dispensers and kept an eye on the Pizza Hut storefront through the crowd. Each of the fast-food joints was mini, even smaller than the typical mall food court places, but they seemed to keep pace with demand. I was grateful for the noise and crowd. I’d worried about being recognized, even with my hat pulled low, but nobody noticed me.
Moe joined me and then said, “I’m going into Starbucks. I need another espresso.”
“Do you though?” I asked. “We’re on the job here.”
“You’ve got it covered and it’s not like somebody’s going to grab you up next to a table of toddlers.”
“Well—”
Moe was off and I leaned on the wall, watching and pretending to look at my phone. Eventually, Madison came out to the Pizza Hut cash register, wearing a uniform that wasn’t as clean as it should’ve been and exchanged words with a guy who wasn’t happy to see her. She chatted and helped get the customer’s food, while he rang up the order, but there was definitely a cold shoulder going on. Madison didn’t seem to notice or maybe she just didn’t care.
After the order, she took over the register and said something to him, but he didn’t reply before taking off his cap and going in the back. Madison shrugged at the customer at the register and gave them a huge smile.
I texted Moe that I had a co-worker going off shift and headed out the doors into the swirling snow. There might be a back way out of the complex and I didn’t want to miss him for lack of trying. But I was lucky, the guy came out the front doors and turned right toward a side parking lot.
I chased him through the incoming customers to an ancient Jeep that didn’t seem roadworthy and yelled, “Excuse me!”
He didn’t turn around until I slid on the ice and banged my cast on his hood.
“What the—”
“Sorry. Sorry,” I said. “I slipped.”
“Oh,” he said. “Are you alright?”
“Fine. I just wondered if I could talk to you for a second.”
He opened his car door and said, “No, thanks. I’m good.”
I hated to do it, but that guy was not looking receptive, so I whipped off my hat and did the old fluff the hair and bat the eyes. “Can I please ask you some questions?”
He glanced back at me through the falling snow and I saw the double-take and then the confusion I’d seen so many times before. The who-exactly-am-I seeing look.
I stuck out a hand and said, “Mercy Watts. I’m doing an investigation and I’d like your help if you’re willing.”
He was frozen. I’d seen that, too. Nothing to do but continue. Marilyn was a double-edged sword sometimes.
“So I saw that you work at Pizza Hut.”
Nothing.
“And you work with Madison Purcell,” I said.
That woke him up. The deer in the headlights look vanished, replaced quickly with a scowl. “Yeah, I work with her.”
“Great. Would you mind talking to me for a few minutes? I won’t take up very much of your time.” I was using the Marilyn voice. You know, a little breathless and ditzy. He liked it. I can always tell.
“Um…sure. You’re really her?” He was blushing now. A flipping great start. Couldn’t have asked for better.
“I am and I’m on a case,” I said. “How well do you know Madison?”
“Not at all. She’s super stuck up,” he said. “Is this about that teacher that tried to kill you?”
I smiled and said, “You got it.”
“And you think Madison had something to do with it?”
Still breathless, I said, “Oh, no. It’s just background.”
“Okay. What do you want to know?”
I stuck out my hand again. “Your name is?”
“Gareth.” He took my hand like it was on fire and dropped it immediately.
I asked Gareth the basic questions and saw Moe watching us from beside the garden center wall. He let me go on alone without interrupting and I appreciated that, but I wasn’t getting a lot. Gareth had worked with Maddison since he graduated from high school and he wasn’t a fan.
“So,” I said, “you don’t like her at all. How come?”
“Like I said, super stuck up. I’m not good enough for her, you know?”
Good enough for what? Oh!
I took a leap and asked, “Why did she say no?”
“To what?”
“When you asked her out?”
He blushed furiously and asked, “How did you know?”
“She kinda seems like the type to say no to everyone,” I said to soothe his pride.
“Not everyone,” said Gareth with hurt plain in his voice.
“Who got in there?”
“Some old guy.”
Score!
“But she’s only twenty,” I said aghast.
Gareth warmed up to the subject and said, “I know. I asked her out and she acted like I shit on her shoe. But she’ll go out with some old dude just ’cause he’s got money. I’m not some loser. I’m going to school full-time. Pre-law.”
“I get it,” I said. “Tell me. Who’s this old guy? Does her mom know?”
“She didn’t tell her mom. That’s for sure. I only know because I heard her talking to MacKenzie.”
Gareth described a conversation with no particulars to my great disappointment. The girls referred to whoever Madison was with as Mr. Big and there was talk of a trip to Paris and Prague. Dinners and some clothes Mr. Big bought Madison.
“How do you know he was old?” I asked.
“Nobody in college is going to be taking a girl to Paris for the weekend and staying in some swanky hotel.”
“Isn’t travel pretty normal over here?”
“Sure, but it’s like this. I went to Amsterdam last weekend with a bunch of people. We stayed in a hostel. Madison wasn’t going to hostels or cheap hotels.”
“How do you know?” I asked. “Did she name the hotel?”
Gareth sneered. “No, but it was in St. Germain. That’s not super cheap. I stayed in a hostel last year and it only cost eighty-five bucks for three nights, but you’re not in the tourist area. Madison was bragging about how the hotel had a Nespresso in the room. Total tourist thing.”
I laughed. “I know, right. Europeans don’t care about coffee in the room.”
“It’s weird. Sometimes you get a kettle and tea though.
“That doesn’t do it for me,” I said. “It sounds like MacKenzie was impressed with the trips.”
“It’s not hard to impress MacKenzie,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. She’s sweet but doesn’t get out much, ya know?”
“Is she around today?”
“No, she took some days off. I think her family went to Copenhagen.”
“Nice.”
“Copenhagen rocks. The pastry is rad.”
We yakked about pastry for a minute and then I asked for MacKenzie’s info. He had her phone number because sometimes he had to call her for work stuff. She lived in Dettenhausen, but he didn’t have an address, not that I needed him for that.
“She has another friend, Olivia Jones,” I said. “Do you know her?”
“Not really. She works at Burger King, but I’ve never talked to her.” He gave me a sly look and I knew what was coming. “Can I take a picture with you? Nobody’s going to believe that you interviewed me if I don’t have evidence.”
“I totally get it, but I want a favor in return.”
He shuffled his feet and said, “What?”
“Hold off on posting anything with me in it.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather stay on the downlow as much as possible.” I took some selfies with my phone and promised to send them to him if he stayed quiet about our interview for a couple days.
“You’ll know if I don’t?” Gareth asked.
“I will.”
He grinned at me. “That’s kinda cool.”
“A few more questions?”
“Sure. My Instagram is going to blow up.”
“Has Madison’s mood changed recently?” I asked.
Gareth thought about it and said, “I don’t know. She’s pretty fake. Always smiling no matter what.”
“What about after my attack and Mr. Thooft’s death?”
“Oh, yeah, but everybody was upset. A flipping teacher turns out to be a freak. It was crazy.”
“But Madison, in particular, was she upset when it happened?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She was off that weekend. Pissed me off, too. She was already off on Sunday and then she called in sick on Saturday. I had to cover.”
“Do you think it was because she was upset about Mr. Thooft?” I asked. “She was in his class.”
Gareth shivered as a wind kicked up and blew snow in our faces. “I’ve gotta go. I told my mom I’d go to the commissary and it’s going to be packed.”
“Just a second. I swear,” I said. “Do you think it was about Mr. Thooft?”
He got in his Jeep and the old engine rumbled to life. I stepped in the way of the door closing and Gareth’s shoulder’s slumped. “No. She was probably at her other job.”
That’s new.
“What’s her other job?”
“She does inspections for housing,” said Gareth, cranking the heat.
“Two jobs and going to school,” I said. “That’s ambitious.”
“It’s greedy.”
“You wanted that job?”
“No way. But for months, she was begging for shifts and I was getting shorted on hours.” He reached for the door handle. “I gotta go.”
“I’ll give you a hundred euro if you tell me everything you know about Madison’s shifts,” I said.
“Dude. Really?”
I took out a hundred euro and held it up. “Really.”
Gareth told me every detail he could think of and he had a good memory when properly motivated. He didn’t know when Madison started dating the old guy, but Paris was in July. He remembered because it was boiling hot and she bragged how the hotel had air conditioning. Gareth thought it was idiotic to go to Paris in July. He was pretty sure there was a trip to Prague in August, also stupid in his opinion, but he didn’t remember what weekend she asked off for.
“When did she start asking for extra shifts?” I asked.
“Like September. She was kinda acting weird. MacKenzie said something about how she needed money, like it was a family thing or something. She got all the extra shifts. We were going to hire another person, but then she begged our boss just to let her do the shifts.”
“And she’s still doing that?”
“Hell, no. She quit that in like November and Eric, that’s our boss, had to hire somebody quick. All the sudden she didn’t need money anymore,” said Gareth.
There was a windfall named me.
“How did that go over?” I asked.
“I got a bunch of shifts until the new guy started. Now she’s at it again.”
“At what?”
“Asking for shifts. It’s not so bad because everyone wants to travel, but after Christmas it’s gonna suck. I’m so sick of her crap. I told her if you need money that bad you shouldn’t be buying purses and shit.”
She was rolling in Anton’s cash.
“Expensive purses?” I asked.
“Yeah. They sell them in the PX. She got one of the big ones. MacKenzie was all about it and then Madison tried to sell it to her for like three hundred bucks. It was freaking used.”
“Did MacKenzie buy it?” I asked.
“She doesn’t have money for that. She took a gap year to work so she can pay for college. She’s going to Notre Dame on a big scholarship, but her dad’s a master sergeant so they’re not exactly rolling in it.”
“Did Madison ever talk about Mr. Thooft? Ever?”
Gareth frowned and then said, “You know, I don’t think she did. Mackenzie was so upset. She really liked Mr. Thooft. She’s still upset, but I don’t think Madison said much.” Gareth’s phone buzzed and he took a look. “Shit. That’s my mom. I gotta go.”
I gave him the euro and my card. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
Gareth started to close the door and then stopped. “You think Madison had something to do with Mr. Thooft doing that to you, don’t you?”
“I think she’s in trouble, but I don’t know what kind yet,” I said.
“You’d think that old guy could’ve given her the money if she was having a problem. She said he was loaded. I wonder if she asked him.”
“That is a very good question.”
Gareth smiled and closed the door. He drove off in the increasing snowstorm and I made my way back up to Moe.
“Got yourself a good one, eh?” he asked.
“I did, but I’m freezing my feet off.”
“Starbucks?”
“Absolutely.”
We hurried inside and found a table in a secluded corner. Moe got me a hot chocolate that was nothing like Aaron’s, but it was hot and that was the most important thing. I told Moe what Gareth had to say and he got dark. It was unexpected.
“What?” I asked as I sipped the hot chocolate.
“It was money.”
“Looks like it.”
“You’re not upset?” Moe asked.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” I said. “Money seems reasonable. I mean, other than sex that’s the main motive for kidnappings. What did you think it was?”
“Something to do with The Bled Collection. You know things.”
“That’s what Chuck thinks, but there was a ton of activity after I was in St. Sebastian the first time. The Klinefeld Group was trying to get through my firewalls, my mom’s, The Girls’.”
“So?”
“So they could’ve made a play then. They were convinced I found something out,” I said.
“Did you?”
I thought about my great-grandparents’ effects from their plane crash that lead us to the liquor cabinet that ended up leading us nowhere.
“Sort of. But I don’t have what they want,” I said.
“Did you have it?” he asked.
“Nope, and I still don’t know exactly what they’re after.”
“Round and round.”
“It keeps going, but whatever they want is important enough to keep after since WWII. Going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing that if I found it, it would be big news. Nothing happened so…”
“So they don’t think you have it…yet.”
“That’s my take.”
Moe nodded. “I hate the money angle.”
“Why particularly?” I asked.
“We don’t do that kind of business. We never have. It offends Calpurnia, so it offends me,” said the aging mobster.
“Your world fascinates me.”
“You and everyone else,” he said with a small smile. “But it’s a lot more corporate than you think.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“That’s best.” He finished his latest espresso and asked, “What now?”
“Call Novak and then Hobbes,” I said.
“How about I call Novak and you call Hobbes,” said Moe.
“Deal.”
We left the PX while still on our phones. Madison was behind the counter at Pizza Hut and I took a second to look at her face. Gareth said she was all smiles no matter what and he was right. She was all smiles. You’d never know her life had gone to shit and I was pretty sure it had in a huge way.