part0013

The coffee service Gerald held was rattling. “Hounds?” he repeated. “But your home, sir. Your precious belongings, your—”

“That will be all, Gerald.”

“But, sir.” The butler purposely jiggled the tray, and Coco sat forward.

“Set it here, Gerald.”

He placed the sterling silver tray on the coffee table but seemed not at all inclined to depart. Ignoring another “That will be all” from his employer, he wrung his hands and stared.

“Only three cups!” he exclaimed, and with that he scurried from the room.

“Dear Gerald.” Coco shook her head and asked if I take cream and sugar. I told her cream, and she told us she agreed with the butler. “Hounds do sound a tad ungainly, Pee-Pie.”

“Anything for Karen,” he said.

“And it’s not Pee-Pie’s decision,” Al added.

“Cream or sugar, Lieutenant?”

Al scowled at the delicate cup. “Black,” he grumbled. “We’ll get the hounds in here tomorrow.”

“Why not now?” I asked. “This is an emergency.”

“I’ll pay,” Piers agreed.

“No you won’t.” Al told the billionaire money can’t buy everything. “We borrow the hounds from a local hunter,” he said. “There’s paperwork, there’s procedure, there’s protocol.”

And there was the problem. Trust me, there is no arguing with the Clarence PD’s paperwork, procedure, and protocol.

Coco handed Piers his coffee. “It’ll be okay,” she said gently. “She’s only been gone since yesterday.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Karen was kidnapped on Wednesday.”

A cough at the doorway, and Gerald strolled forth with a fourth cup. He presented it to Coco and bowed .

“That will be all!” Al barked, and lo and behold, the butler got the hint.

I apologized once the door closed. “I’m sorry, Al.” I cringed. “I didn’t mean for him to hear—”

“Wednesday!” he barked again. “How do you know that?”

“Because I visited Karen’s condo this morning.”

“She won’t mind, under the circumstan—”

I cleared my throat. “I do believe I’m observing that.”

Piers raised a hand to get my attention. “Was anything amiss?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Although she had several phone messages.”

“You listened to her messages?” That was Al, of course, and I almost felt sorry for the guy. He was mad, but he also wanted a full report.

I relayed the messages from the decorators. “They sounded desperate on Wednesday,” I said. “And even more so yesterday.”

Pierpont’s mouth dropped open. “She didn’t call them back?” He turned to Al. “Those decorators are crucial to her business. She’d never ignore them.”

“We can call them,” Coco suggested.

“D-U-N-dun,” I said. “I called on my drive here.”

“Of course you did,” Al mumbled.

“What did you say?” Piers asked.

I had kept it vague. “I said Karen’s busy, but will get back to them next week.”

“Which she will!” Coco said. “Surely she’ll pop up by then.”

I surely hoped so, but all we knew for certain was when Karen had popped out. “Wednesday,” I said, and Al harrumphed.

“I won’t base the time of abduction on a few phone calls.”

“Well then, what about the milk?”

Al skipped a beat. “I’m afraid to ask,” he said, and I agreed the milk in Karen’s fridge had been rather scary .

“More proof she’s hasn’t been home for days,” Piers said, and you know who asked what else I had laid “my paws on.”

“Did you eat anything while you were making yourself right at home?” he demanded.

I smirked. “Not even an Oreo.”

“Any-hoo,” Coco sang, and Al and I abandoned our little stare down.

Piers nodded to me. “I don’t suppose you found the ransom note?”

I scowled. “At Karen’s? That would make no sense whatsoever.”

“But Lieutenant Kapinski thinks I should have gotten a note by now.”

I glanced at Al. “Nothing,” he told me. “No note, no calls.” He jerked a thumb at our host. “He hasn’t even been told not to involve the cops.”

“Pee-Pie, honey,” Coco said. “Are you sure you haven’t received a ransom note? Maybe you misplaced it.”

“Really, Coco?” He shook his head. “Do you really think I’d misplace the ransom note?”

She pursed her lips. “I suppose not.”

He spoke to Al. “It could be in today’s mail. It’s usually delivered by now.”

“Nothing when I got here,” I said, and Al’s head snapped in my direction.

“You checked the mailbox?”

“Wow, Jessie!” That was Coco. “You do think of everything!”

Apparently not, since I hadn’t thought to check for a ransom note. “I was looking for a security camera anywhere near the front gate,” I said, and Piers groaned.

“There is no camera! Why don’t I have a camera down there?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but stood up and waved rather wildly at all the priceless this and thats in his drawing room. “I have all this junk, and no security at the gate, and now Karen’s in danger. This is my fault! ”

“Oh, Pee-Pie!” Coco hopped up and went to her cousin, but he brushed her off.

“Karen would be better off if she never met me.”

“No!” That was me. “You are Karen Sembler’s destiny, Pierpont Rigby. She loves yo—”

He stared aghast. “Did she say that, Jessie? Really?”

I took a deep breath. “Not in so many words. But my intuition says—”

“Hey, lover boy.” Al interrupted. “I need a description.”

“Of your girlfriend. Let’s see some pictures.”

Coco nudged her cousin. “Show him the ones from last weekend.”

Piers pulled out his cell phone, and we gathered round as Al scrolled through a few shots of Karen, Pierpont, Coco, and the Land Rover.”

“What’s up with the car?” Al asked, and Piers mentioned they had done some off-roading.

“It was the only way we could entice her out of that tiresome bathroom,” Coco added.

“Size?” Al asked, and Piers told him it’s a standard Land Rover.

“Oh,” Piers said. “You meant Karen. She’s perfect. Not too big, not too small.”

Al turned to me. “Care to elaborate for Goldilocks?”

“She’s about five-five,” I said. “Average build.”

“Average!?” Piers protested. “Karen has a fantastic figure.”

Al rolled his eyes and continued scrolling through photos while Piers continued gushing. “She has incredible cheekbones,” he said.

“And a lovely complexion.”

“And a beautiful singing voice.”

I looked up. “She sings to you?”

Coco waited to catch my eye. “It’s what they do when she’s not preoccupied with his plumbing. ”

“That’s right.” Piers mentioned the music conservatory in the east wing. “Karen sings, and I play piano,” he said, and sure enough there was a photograph to prove his claim. “Gerald took that one. We like show tunes the best.”

I bit my lip and looked at Coco. She raised an eyebrow, and I bit harder.

Al kept scrolling. “Is that really what her hair looks like?” he asked, and I laughed out loud. Yes, it was rude response to a rude question, but Karen’s hair is, how shall I say, fascinating?

“She swears she doesn’t cut it with her Skilsaw,” I said.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Piers asked.

Exhibiting uncharacteristic diplomacy, Al chose not to answer, and instead began the process of struggling to his feet. “Let’s see the west wing bathroom.”

“Let’s not.” Coco insisted she had seen quite enough of “that horrid bathroom” and headed for the French doors. “I’m going shopping.”

Shopping? At a time like this? Talk about horrid.

Evidently I didn’t hide my dismay, because Pierpont enlightened me his cousin shops when she’s upset. “It helps her think.”

Gee, I thought horseback riding did that.

But I, too, can be diplomatic. I mentioned the big sale at Tate’s, but felt ridiculous even before the suggestion escaped my lips. Clearly Coco Rigby never worried about anything as mundane as a sale.

Sure enough, she did seem confused. “What is a Tate’s?” she asked.

“The local department store,” Piers answered. “Auntie Belinda shops there.”

She pursed her lips. “No,” she sang. “I’ll just pop out of this.” She indicated her riding habit. “And pop up to Boston to shop with Buffy and Ky Ashton. Such dear chums. May I borrow Mallory, Pee-Pie?”

Piers told her to go ahead and take Mallory and the plane .

“Toodle-oo then.” She again turned to the door.

“Hold it!” That was Al. “Mallory’s the pilot?”

“That’s right, darling.”

“She stays here. I’ll be questioning the staff.”

Coco stood still and pondered—perhaps for the first time ever—the prospect of not flying off on any old whim, but somehow she reconciled herself to the notion. “Tate’s it is,” she said.

“Drive yourself,” Piers told her.

“Yes, Pee-Pie. In fact, I’ll call Auntie Belinda and see if she cares to join me.”

Al gave her further instructions not to discuss Karen’s disappearance with “this Auntie Belinda person,” and Coco finally managed to escape.

This Auntie Belinda person.

Where had I heard about this Auntie Belinda—

“One down,” Al said.

I shook myself and looked up. “You two go on upstairs, and I’ll meet you there,” I said.

“Are you feeling well?” Piers asked.

“Oh, fine,” I said. I found my cell phone in my purse and held it up. “I just need to check on Wilson.”

Al muttered something about the joys of bachelorhood, and Piers led him away.