It was just after supper when Frank finally gave in to Sarah’s badgering. He didn’t have it in him to argue, not with how he’d been working nonstop with the flood lapping at the storefronts on Main Street, dealing with panicked homeowners and the Department of Transportation shutting down the stretch of highway into River Bend, not to mention chasing down a lost citizen.
“Hop in the car,” he told her, setting his napkin on the table. “Forget dessert. We’ll go into Belleville if that’s what you want.”
“We will?”
What Frank wanted to say was: If that’s what’ll get you to pipe down about Luann Dupree, then, yes, we’ll go right now. But he bit his cheek and replied instead, very simply, “Yes, dear.”
He hadn’t been able to enjoy his fried chicken and mashed potatoes with her ranting about finding Luann Dupree’s car in an elderly woman’s garage and insisting he dig deeper.
“She’s my friend, Frank, and she’s been missing for weeks! It’s high time you did something!”
“What the heck were you doing, poking around a total stranger’s property?” he asked, and he felt a familiar twinge in his belly. If it was an ulcer eating a hole in his stomach, well, he’d earned it.
“I took Helen Evans with me,” his wife said, giving him an innocent look, as if having a chaperone absolved her of wrongdoing.
“But you lied to me and said you were visiting a friend. Why’d you go at all?”
“Luann pointed me in that direction,” Sarah told him. “I just had to be patient and listen.”
“Listen?” he repeated. “So you’ve talked to her, have you?”
“Not exactly.” Sarah had glanced down at her plate, where she’d been pushing around mashed potatoes and green beans, building a wall around a poor drumstick that that she’d been too busy to eat. The way she avoided his eyes meant either the truth was being stretched or she was embarrassed.
“Luann e-mailed you?”
“No.”
“You got a text?” Frank tried next, only to earn a shake of his wife’s mop of hair.
“I found a note she’d written a while back stuck in her favorite book about pirates,” Sarah said, starting slowly and then building steam. “So I went online, got the address, and drove over there with Helen. While she tried to talk to the homeowner, who was completely off her rocker, I kind of wandered around and saw a car in the garage that looked exactly like Luann’s.”
Kind of wandered?
When Frank shook his head, Sarah snapped at him, “You can’t let this go, I won’t let you!” She had a tight look on her face that he knew meant trouble, unless he desired to sleep on the couch. “My friend needs my help, and I need yours.”
He’d about had it with Luann Dupree. Her belongings took up nearly the whole of their one-car garage. And now his wife was playing detective and bothering strangers in an effort to “help” a woman who, as far as Frank was aware, was right where she wanted to be. Weren’t her e-mails to the city council resigning her job and professing to be on a great adventure proof enough of that?
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled. “Now.”
Then Frank did something he rarely ever did except in dire emergencies: he left the table with his meal unfinished. He herded his wife into his cruiser and put the Belleville address of Penny Tuttle into his GPS, and they headed out.
It wasn’t yet dark, but the sky had begun to mellow. The bright blue of afternoon had evolved into a cloudy smear of purplish pink.
As he drove, his wife talked. That was just how it went. She repeated things she’d told him countless times already: about Luann’s mysterious online relationship that culminated in a date with Mr. Maybe the night before she vanished, the ensuing e-mails that were bland to the point of uselessness, the absence of phone calls or selfies, and the abandoned accounts on social media.
Frank had heard it all before a million times. So if it took going to Belleville to get Sarah to let go, it was worth it.
When they finally got off the highway and made their way to the subdivision of the woman named Penny Tuttle, the streetlights had come on, the light they shed dim.
Sarah pointed out the house as soon as they turned a corner.
Frank stopped the car right in front, cut the engine, and turned to his wife.
She had already taken off her seat belt and was reaching for the door when he put his hand on her arm.
“Ground rules,” he said, because he knew they would need them.
He heard the irritated whoosh of her breath as she faced him.
“You let me take the lead,” he began, “and I do the talking. You stay right by my side, and most importantly, you don’t wander.”
“You sound just like her, you know,” Sarah told him.
“Who?”
“Helen Evans.”
Frank’s cheeks warmed, and he grunted.
Mrs. Evans could be a thorn in his side at times, but he had to admire her for trying to keep Sarah out of trouble.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Sarah sat and waited for him to come around to her side of the car. He opened the door, helped her out, and held on to her arm even after.
“Can’t we look in the garage first?” she asked, trying to tug away.
“No.”
The porch light flicked on as they approached, so Frank knew they’d been seen. Although these days folks were as apt to keep the lights off and not open the door when they spotted a cruiser parked in front of their home.
A woman came to stand behind the storm door. She scowled as they came up the porch steps from the sidewalk.
“That’s the nosy neighbor,” Sarah hissed under her breath. “She threatened to call the police on Helen and me.”
With good reason, Frank thought.
He shushed his wife, though he let go, clearing his throat as they reached the other side of the welcome mat.
The woman emerged, letting the storm door slap shut. She stood with her arms crossed, clearly guarded.
“Good evening, ma’am,” Frank said and tipped his hat. “I’m Sheriff Biddle . . .”
“Did you bring this woman for me to identify?” she interrupted, jerking her chin at Sarah. “She was trespassing earlier. Did Jackie call the cops and report it? I told him everything.”
“Jackie?” Frank repeated.
“Mrs. Tuttle’s son. It’s her house, although she’s not well. She’s inside resting.” The woman frowned. “I’m Ezra Bick from next door. I keep an eye on the place while Jackie’s away.”
“I apologize for my wife,” Frank said. Though Sarah snorted, she did not speak. “But she’s very concerned about a friend of hers named Luann Dupree and thought she might be here . . .”
“There’s no Luann Dupree in this house,” Mrs. Bick cut him off again, and her eyes narrowed. “There’s only Penny now, and the home health-care people that Jackie hired, who come and go. Penny’s not well. She’s got dementia and diabetes and nerve issues, you name it.” The woman twirled a hand in the air. “I tried to help, but dealing with all her meds got too confusing.”
“I know Luann was here!” Sarah piped up and pointed toward the driveway that ran alongside the house. “I saw her car in the garage! It’s a red Fiat Spider with gunmetal-gray rims. I know it was here. So where is she?”
“May we look in the garage?” Frank asked the neighbor, because it was the one thing that was going to settle this. “We’d appreciate having the owner’s permission, of course.”
“Since you’re so polite, Sheriff, I’ll see about that.” The woman glared at Sarah as she answered. “Give me a minute, and I’ll call Jackie. He makes all the decisions for Penny these days.”
Mrs. Bick plucked a phone from her pants pocket and went back inside. Frank could see her through the storm door. He watched her press the touch pad and put the phone to her ear. She wandered away as she spoke, though Frank could hear mumbles. Then she returned to the door, the phone still at her ear. She nodded before putting it away.
She came back out. “Jackie says I can take you to the garage. So come on.”
With that, she took off, striding down from the porch and marching around the corner of the house. Sarah hurried after her.
Frank hiked up his pants and followed.
“Stay here,” Mrs. Bick told them when they reached the façade with its faux-paneled aluminum door. She took some keys from her pocket and stabbed one into the side garage door. She disappeared for an instant before a rumble rent the air.
Slowly, the metal door rattled open.
Sarah let out a strangled cry, and Frank quickly realized why.
The garage was empty.
The car was gone.