The Pearl Diver (6 page)

“Do you know for certain that it’s a car?”

“Oh, no. It could be anything—a car or truck or van or even bus. There’s really no way to tell, at this point. I’m sending someone over to get a picture of your cousin. Can you get one ready for us?”

Casting a last look at Win Junior, who was lying on his back
sucking down the cup of warm milk, I took the cordless phone with me into the living room. I couldn’t see any photo albums, but on the mantel I noticed a silver-framed wedding photograph of Kendall in a white gown leaning back against Win, before his hairline had begun to recede. I’d missed their wedding because I’d been in Japan. I picked it up and asked, “Would a framed photo work?”

“Sure. We’ll take it out of the frame and put it back in when it’s all over.”

All over. That could be good, or bad. “The fact that you want the photo, does it mean you’re seriously looking for her?”

“Yes,” he said shortly.

“So you’re tracking the telephone. What if the phone battery goes dead?” I asked.

“Sometimes we’ve still been able to locate the vehicle. But we can’t pinpoint it exactly. We can track it to a quarter-mile area. If we know what the car looks like, it’s usually pretty easy to find.”

But nobody had seen the car. That was unspoken.

We made arrangements for an officer to come to the house to take the photograph from me. He also wanted to talk to Kendall’s husband. I gave him the phone number that I’d seen on the chalkboard.

“How are the kids?” Burns asked gruffly.

“Okay. I’m about to put them to bed.”

“Good idea. Is there anyone else who could help you? A grandmother, maybe?”

“Kendall’s parents are on St. Barth’s right now. Kendall and Win have a live-in baby-sitter. She’s got to make it home sometime.”

“If, for any reason, nobody can relieve you, there’s always emergency help from social services.”

I looked at Win, half asleep on the rug, and felt so much fear that I was on the verge of tears. I couldn’t talk to Burns anymore. I whispered, “Why don’t I let you go, so you can get back to tracking down my cousin.”

I changed Win’s diaper and put him in pajamas and laid him
down in his own blue-and-yellow bedroom. I turned off the light but left the door open a crack after he whimpered that the room was too dark. He still hadn’t asked for his mother. I wouldn’t have known what to say if he had.

I checked back in on Jacquie to adjust her covers, and when I heard the sound of deep, even breathing from both babies’ rooms, I went downstairs.

Social services. Why had Louis Burns brought that up? Children went into social services only if there wasn’t another parent or family member to care for them. Did the detective think there was a reason Win wouldn’t be able to care for the children? When a woman went missing, was her husband automatically a suspect?

It was eleven o’clock now. I leafed through the family address book, looking for contact information for Kendall’s parents on St. Barth’s. Nothing. I put in a call to my mother, in San Francisco, who was packing for a long-anticipated holiday with my father, and some close friends, in Fiji. But when she heard what had happened, she started talking about canceling the eighteen-day trip.

“Rei, that’s—oh, my Lord, so terrible! What kind of neighborhood were you in? Are you and the children safe right this minute?”

“It was a fine restaurant, and to answer your second question, I’m at Kendall’s house with the children. I’d hoped you’d know where Aunt Deborah and Uncle Bill are staying.”

“It’s the Breakers—no, that’s where they go in Florida. St. Barth’s, let me think. I think it’s a bed and breakfast they use. They sent a lovely postcard last year, which I’m sure I tossed in the spring cleaning—”

“I guess I’ll have to wait for Win to get home, then,” I said.

“Don’t count on him to know anything.” My mother’s opinion of Win was about the same as mine. “Ask Dougie.”

She was talking about Kendall’s brother. “I don’t know where he lives. Do you?”

“He lives in Howard County somewhere—Millersville, that’s it. Haven’t you seen him?”

“No. Since I’ve been here, Kendall’s been the only one of the
Howards who has been interested in doing things.”

“It takes two to tango. Have you gone to visit Grandmother yet?”

“Not exactly,” I said. My grandmother and I had unfinished business that I meant to keep that way. “Mom, I’d better get off the line. I heard someone at the door. Maybe it’s the cop.”

“What?”

“‘Bye, Mom.” I clicked off quickly, because I didn’t need any more flack from my mother about not seeing my relatives. And it was true that there was the sound of something happening outside the door. I walked toward the foyer, Kendall’s wedding picture in hand. I’d been expecting a police officer, but from what I could see through the leaded glass pane next to the front door, this probably wasn’t one. The shape of a tall man was clear through the pane, leaning against it as if he thought he could push it in. Adrenaline surged as I thought about the possibilities: a random break-in. Or maybe, the man who’d taken Kendall had brought her home.

I was glancing back at the kitchen, trying to decide whether to run back to the phone, when I heard metal sliding into metal. The chime went off as the door flew open and Kendall’s husband, Win, staggered through. His hair was slick with the night’s rain and his skin had a greenish cast.

“Hey, Rye. Whassup?” He blinked at the sight of me.

“Rei,” I said, correcting his pronunciation. “Actually, I have bad news.”

“The restaurant’s going to tank?” He laughed shortly. “Don’t let a slow first night scare you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, I had something else to do—”

“It’s not a problem with the restaurant.” I could hardly get out the next two words. “Kendall disappeared.”

“You mean, she didn’t show up?” He snorted. “She called me earlier today, bitching about child care problems. That’s probably why she didn’t come.”

“She
did
meet me for dinner there, with the kids. But she stepped out to make a phone call and never came back.”

“What the hell—did you call the police?” Was his expression
tightening out of concern for his wife, I wondered, or something else?

“Yes,” I said. “They have been trying to reach you on your cell phone.”

“I had it turned off. God, what happened to Kendall?”

“I don’t know. Nobody does. But her cell phone is in motion. It’s going across the city.”

“I don’t get it. What’s this about the phone?” Win rubbed his temples, as if he had a headache. His pupils were huge, two shiny blue-black discs.

“She might have been abducted.” I couldn’t say
killed
.

“Oh, my God.” He leaned against the wall, looking sick. My gaze moved from his face to the rest of him, thinking it odd that he had no briefcase, and that when his coat gapped open it revealed a rumpled business shirt peeking through his trousers. He looked as if he’d been rolling around with someone in a car—either that, or he’d forgotten to pull himself together after using the bathroom.

“Did Lisa put the kids down?” he asked abruptly.

“No, she’s at a dance. Remember, there were child care problems? I brought the twins home and put them to bed.” I still felt a flush of pride at the fact that I’d done it. “I can leave now, or I can stay a while longer.”

“I can take it from here. What do I owe you?”

“Owe me?” I was confused.

“For watching the kids.”

“I’m Kendall’s cousin, remember? If you do anything for me at all, just phone the detective who’s involved, because he’s been on my back about where you are. He’ll be sending over another cop to pick up this photograph.” I put the framed wedding photograph in his hand.

“I can’t believe it. If only I’d gone with her tonight,” Win muttered, looking at the picture. “God, she’s beautiful. She still looks the same, you know—”

“Where were you tonight?” I interrupted him angrily.

“At a meeting.” He said it without expression.

“Where?”

“Ah, downtown.”

“Kendall thought you were in northern Virginia.”

“I guess you are like her, after all.” There was an edge to Win’s voice.

I made my voice softer. “I apologize if I seem harsh with you at this time of trouble. It’s just that I’m very concerned about Kendall, and the children. If you don’t feel, ah, well enough to take care of them right now, I’d be willing to stay until your au pair gets home—”

“Just leave, all right.” For a minute, Win had pulled himself together into the kind of
über
man that I remembered from his university lacrosse days.

“Good night, then. I hope you don’t mind if I take Kendall’s car? I drove it over because of the kids.”

He didn’t respond, so I let myself out.

As I drove home, Friday night turned to Saturday morning. There weren’t that many cars around; those I saw appeared to be driven by people in their late teens and early twenties, partiers, the kind I worried might have smoked or drunk something.

Win had been so strange. It was as if he’d been high on something. I knew all the signs of someone who’d drunk too much—having done that myself, every now and then—but I knew nothing about illegal mood enhancers. Drugs hadn’t been at all big in Japan. Maybe if I stayed in Washington long enough, I’d be able to distinguish a crack high from a heroin buzz, or whatever it was called. I didn’t want to know.

As I drove slowly down Columbia Road, toward Adams-Morgan, the road got busier, with street people steering drivers into parking spaces, dancers spilling out of nightclubs, drinkers leaning on the edges of doorways. A few weeks ago, I’d considered this one of my favorite parts of the city. But now I saw shad
ows everywhere, and in them, I imagined lurking men. Hugh’s words about being careful in Washington came back to me.

There was no legal parking spot left on the block in front of our town house, so I parked illegally, in the no-parking zone at its end. I didn’t care if I got a parking ticket tonight—at least I’d get into the apartment safely.

I was turning the key in the lock of the apartment when I heard the telephone within start ringing. I rushed in, grabbed the receiver, and discovered Hugh on the other end. He wanted to hear how the restaurant launch had gone.

I laughed shakily before telling him the whole story, including the disturbing part about Win’s demeanor.

“Did he have a smell about him?” Hugh wanted to know.

“I didn’t get close enough to tell. I don’t think so—”

“It probably isn’t pot or alcohol, then. Maybe it’s heroin. I hear there’s a big boom in the suburbs.”

“Why would a preppy real estate agent do things like that? The father of twins?”

“You said he was unzipped when he came home,” Hugh said. “If he’s shagging someone while he’s high, it probably isn’t heroin. That would incapacitate him—”

“You, the expert on sexual function,” I snorted. “Whatever he’s under the influence of, I hope it’s worn off. Because if the police encounter what I did, they might want to take him in.”

“D’you reckon they’ll be suspicious of him in Kendall’s disappearance?” Hugh asked.

“I don’t want to jump to any conclusions,” I said. “He’s a jerk, but I’m sure he loves Kendall. The way he looked at her photograph…”

“In any case, he’s not like your Japanese relations at all,” Hugh said. “I visited your aunt Norie for supper last night. She cooked that delicious tabletop stew, but with beef because you weren’t there. I think it’s called
nabe
?”

“I’m sorry, Hugh. I just can’t concentrate on menus at this time.” I wanted to keep the line clear for the police, for Kendall, for whoever might need to reach me.

“She misses you. She told me that you didn’t say a proper good-bye in Japan.”

“I know. I had to leave so fast—”

“What do you think about her coming to us for a visit? She could help us get sorted for the wedding—”

I cut him off. “Sure. Whatever. Tell her anytime. But, sweetie, I’m so tired. I don’t think I can talk anymore.”

I promised Hugh that I would take the Glendinning cure for severe anxiety—hot milk sipped in a hotter bath—and go to bed. The ritual unwound me enough to get between the sheets, but I found that I couldn’t sleep. I lay there, listening to the silence, which gradually turned to radiators clanging, which meant that it was morning. Six o’clock. I decided to get up and attempt to jog off my nervous energy. As I was pulling on my shorts, the phone rang.

Burns was on the other end. He said words that I never expected to hear. My cousin was alive.

Euphoria washed over me. “Thank God. Where is she?”

“In an ambulance on her way to D.C. General. You were right in guessing that she’d been taken somewhere against her will.”

“Was she hurt?” My feeling of joy turned back to anxiety.

“We don’t know all that happened. She didn’t have any obvious broken bones or injuries, but she’s going to the ER just to make sure she’s okay.”

“How did you find her?”

“Well, unfortunately, our phone trace never panned out, but we located her through LoJack. Are you familiar with that technology?”

Hugh had it installed in his car. “Isn’t it a chip, planted in a car, that can be used to trace it if the owners report it stolen?”

“That’s right. A 1998 Mercedes was reported stolen by a Kalorama resident a few hours ago. Someone in the department was tracing it by using the LoJack feature. The car was found abandoned in southeast Washington. Mrs. Johnson was found in the trunk.”

“Did she tell you what the kidnappers wanted?”

“She was able to give us the gist of what happened, but I need to talk to her some more. You can visit her in a few hours.”

“Why did they take her?”

“We don’t know that yet. All I can tell you is that she’s alive and well and her husband is en route to the hospital to meet her.”

“Who’s watching the twins, then?”

“Apparently the au pair had arrived back at the house. Mr. Johnson said that the kids are still sleeping.”

“Yes, it was a late night for them,” I said, thinking about what a night they’d had: A night they’d never understand had almost changed their lives.