TWENTY-NINE

  

Allison returned home to a dark house. Even Brutus took his time greeting her, coming down the steps with the startled, slightly dazed look of someone who’d been awakened from a deep sleep. The cat didn’t bother with an appearance.

After giving Brutus a vigorous petting, Allison slid off her shoes and checked her phone. She had a text from Jason: “Heading back to my place. –J”

Odd, Allison thought. His normal routine was to stay here, or at least call. They never ended a day without an “I love you.” It was only eight o’clock, so she tried to ring him. He didn’t answer. She was about to put her shoes back on and head to his apartment when her phone beeped. Relived, she glanced down at the caller I.D. Only it wasn’t Jason. It was Faye.

“Can you take the baby tonight?” Faye asked. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I forgot that Mom has an appointment first thing in the morning.”

“Of course,” she said to Faye, surprised but delighted, and more than a little apprehensive. “I can be there in an hour.”

“Thank you,” Faye said, sounding like a burden had been lifted. “You’ll bring her back tomorrow?”

“Sure. What time?”

“Any time between twelve and three,” Faye said. “Just in time for Little House on the Prairie reruns. We all watch those together.”

  

Thomas Svengetti pushed away a half-eaten plate of Shepherd’s Pie. “You want me to track down this Doris Long?” he asked. “Using federal tax records?”

Mia smiled at him from across the table. The spot he’d chosen for their rendezvous was a wood-paneled, noisy sports bar. But her veggie burger had been tasty and the beer in her hand, a local pale ale, went down easily. The company, she hated to admit, wasn’t too bad, either.

“Can you do that?”

Svengetti nodded. “Sure, mostly public records anyway. But why do you need the information?”

“Favor to a friend.”

Svengetti arched an eyebrow. “Why do I think you’re up to something?”

“Me? What would give you that idea?”

Svengetti smiled, an expression Mia hadn’t seen much on the man, and his vibrant blue eyes lit up. “You’re a wily one, Mia Campbell.” He ran a finger over a long scratch in the wooden table. He had strong hands, Mia noticed, and neatly trimmed fingernails. “You want to find this Doris Long? Why?”

Mia shook her head. “We want to find a woman named Eleanor Davies. She’s forty-two and single, as far as I know anyway. Lives in Exton and worked at Transitions, Inc., a former brand of Diamond Brands, Inc. Disappeared from her home a few weeks ago.”

“Foul play suspected?”

“Maybe,” Mia said. “Her sister was murdered soon after Eleanor disappeared.” Mia went on to explain Scott Fairweather’s death and his relationship with Eleanor. “Something seems off.”

“Heard about that. Man was killed in North Philly. Gang-related. They just arrested the perps.” Svengetti raised his glass and frowned. “Sounds like a matter for the cops.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, my friend does not.”

“Why are you involved?”

“I’m not, really. This friend is worried. She thinks something happened to Eleanor. Or Eleanor knows something and ran.”

Mia watched his face. While she wasn’t lying, she wasn’t being completely truthful, either. After everything that happened with the Benini and Edwards families almost a year ago, Mia trusted Svengetti. He was a smart man, and resourceful. But she also knew he was a maverick and he would do what he felt was right, not necessarily what someone else wanted him to do. She needed to play it cool.

“You’re holding back on me, Mia,” he said. “But I get the sense that you’re not directly involved so I’ll help you.” He took a sip from his mug of beer, wiped his mouth with a white paper napkin, and leaned forward, eyes commanding. Mia found herself thinking he was a handsome man, in a Paul-Newman-in-his-later-years sort of way. “Don’t go putting yourself in danger again.”

Mia smiled. “This one isn’t my fight, Thomas.”

Svengetti stopped a waitress and asked her for a pen. She handed him one and he jotted the names down on another white napkin. “So you think that finding Doris Long may help you locate Eleanor.”

“That’s what my friend thinks.”

Svengetti stared at her. “And your friend is Allison Campbell?”

“You’re either smarter than you look or I’m an open book.”

“You just seem to be that loyal.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Svengetti laughed. “Loyalty has its place, Mia. But it can also get you killed. Or worse.”

Mia knew he was talking about his own life: his murdered wife, killed at the hands of the Russian mob, and others whom he’d seen gunned down or emotionally tortured over the years. She felt bad for bringing him into this.

“Thomas,” she began.

But he waved away her concern. “I’m right where I want to be, Mia. So don’t say another thing.” He caught her eye, making the meaning of his words clear. “My hotel room is not far from here. If you want an answer right away, you’re welcome to join me in the search. Otherwise, I can call you later.”

Mia felt a warm flush creeping over her skin. “I think you’d better call later, Thomas.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. After a second he returned to his beer. “Doris Long,” he said between sips. “Sounds like a good name for a serial killer. Or the murderer in a mystery novel.”

  

Eleanor waited until Doris was asleep. With her ear to Doris’s door, Eleanor fumbled along the counter where Doris kept her keys until she found what she was looking for: the tiny replica of a shotgun that held her car keys. An hour prior she had slipped each German Shepherd four Benadryl capsules wrapped in cheese and to her satisfaction both dogs were sleeping soundly on the floor by the couch. She’d slipped Doris a sleeping pill, too. Popped it into her evening beer. Just like giving steak to a lion.

As quietly as she could, Eleanor opened the front door and closed it softly behind her. It was a waning crescent moon, and without the moon’s guiding light, it was nearly impossible to see. That was okay. Eleanor had made many nighttime treks across the western half of the United States and in parts of Europe and South America. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, only the people who might be hiding out under the cover of night.

Eleanor slipped behind the wheel of Doris’s Subaru and shut the door. She jammed the manual transmission into third gear and released the parking break, letting the car slide down the hilly driveway until she was far enough into the woods to turn on the ignition. The car bucked once, twice and then the engine caught. Eleanor waited until she was near the street and out of view of Doris’s house before turning on the headlights. She’d walked this path so many times that she’d memorized the route and knew without looking every turn, every bump along the driveway. Still, she let out a breath when she reached the road and could finally see.

The headlights shined a swath of light onto the darkened road. Eleanor was careful to drive the speed limit. She couldn’t afford an issue with the police or an accident with a deer or moose. Despite the cigarette-wet-dog smell of Doris’s vehicle, it felt good to be back behind the wheel of a vehicle. It felt good to be driving. But if Doris awoke to find Eleanor and her car missing, Eleanor had no doubt she’d call the cops before she’d bother to read the note Eleanor had left for her. That’s just how she was.

Eleanor had memorized the way to Route 1, her best bet for a twenty-four hour pharmacy or grocery store. Even along Route 1, though, it took her another thirty minutes to find a twenty-four hour drugstore. Before going inside the store, she took advantage of the cold and wrapped a wool scarf around her face, hiding her nose and mouth. To be extra careful, she looked away from the security camera as she entered. Just in case.

She found the disposable phones near the front, by the cameras. She chose one and paid in cash. Once in the car, she took a few minutes to set it up. With this, she could transfer money to her checking account and pay off Doris. The greedy bitch was getting antsy, and so was Eleanor. The money movement might set off some red flags, but by the time anyone caught on, she’d be long gone. The idea of spending Thanksgiving alone with Doris was depressing. Much better to be headed southwest, toward Mexico. She’d take the money, get a new car and cross the border. She could disappear in Mexico. Hell, with all her cash, she could disappear anywhere.