A Mother's Secret. Pat Warren

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Twenty thousand. I asked him why he wanted that much, and he said it was for some kind of investment opportunity, a sure thing. I’ve never trusted that sort of thing, so I turned him down and told him to ask Meg for the money. He said no, he couldn’t do that, and asked me not to mention his request to his wife.”

      “Did you tell Meg?”

      “No.”

      “It seems as if we’ve discovered a motive for Lenny’s disappearance—to get away from a nagging, frugal wife. But why take the boy?”

      “That’s what bothers me. I don’t buy this father-son quality time Meg mentioned. Lenny was hardly a hands-on father except when it suited him.” Leaning back, Sara closed her eyes. What a mess. She wished Lenny was here right now so she could punch him for using Mike to play games.

      Rubbing her forehead, where a headache was beginning, she felt defeated. “I guess you’ll chalk this up as another domestic feud, eh?”

      He probably should, Kincaid knew. But a couple of things worried him. First, the boy’s mother didn’t seem nearly as upset over her son’s disappearance as his aunt was. Instead Meg was vague and defensive, downright belligerent to the people who were trying to help her. Secondly, Sara Morgan didn’t strike him as someone who’d blow a situation out of proportion. She seemed genuinely worried.

      Maybe it would turn out to be a wild-goose chase. Despite his reluctance, if there was the slightest chance that the smiling boy was in danger, Kincaid felt he should try. After all, he did have the time.

      “Not just yet.” He started the motor. “I’d like to talk with Lenny’s superior officer at the Mesa Police Department first. Want to come along?”

      Hope flared in her just that easily. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

      For the life of him, Kincaid didn’t know what impulse made him ask her along. Could it be those big blue eyes imploring him?

      Lieutenant James Anderson was a stocky, ruddy-faced man in shirtsleeves and paisley suspenders. He looked at Kincaid’s ID and quickly ushered them into his office, closing the door.

      “I’ve heard of you, Detective Kincaid. You do good work.” Anderson sat down in his swivel chair. “I was sorry to hear about that case where—”

      “Thank you,” Kincaid interrupted quickly. He had no intention of going into that.

      “What can I do for you?”

      He introduced Sara. “Her sister, Meg, is married to Lenny Nelson. I believe he works out of this precinct?”

      The chair squeaked in protest as the big man leaned back. “Used to. He’s on suspension.”

      “So I heard, for improprieties, I understand. Could you be more specific, sir?”

      The lieutenant’s hooded eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”

      Quickly Kincaid explained the major points. “Naturally, we respect the confidentiality of the people involved, but I need to know if Lenny Nelson could pose a danger to his son. As I mentioned, they’ve been gone for several days, and no one knows their whereabouts, not even the boy’s mother.”

      Anderson frowned as he shifted forward and checked a folder. “Nelson’s supposed to appear next Monday for an internal affairs hearing.” He sat for a moment, thoughtful. “I assume this goes no further?”

      “Absolutely, sir.”

      “Nelson’s facing allegations that he stole property from the evidence room and sold it. All from old, unsolved cases, mostly forgotten, growing dusty in bins. Been going on awhile, from what we’ve determined so far.”

      A man apparently in need of money for whatever purpose, unable to pry more loose from his tight-fisted wife, probably not earning a great deal, stealing and fencing, facing a likely indictment, Kincaid enumerated to himself. That kind of man could be desperate, volatile, unpredictable.

      And he was off somewhere with an innocent twelve-year-old boy.

      He glanced at Sara and saw she’d turned pale as she, too, had come to the same conclusion.

      “And if Lenny doesn’t show up for his hearing?” Sara asked.

      “We’ll get a judge to issue a bench warrant for his arrest,” Anderson said.

      “Thank you, sir,” Kincaid said, rising and shaking hands. Hand on her elbow, he led Sara out of the office. Walking near the bull pen, he spotted a desk with Lenny’s name on it, although another uniformed officer was sitting there.

      On a hunch he stopped. “Excuse me, but are you a friend of Lenny Nelson?” he asked.

      The dark-haired officer stopped typing on the computer. “You could say that.”

      Kincaid introduced himself and Sara. She saw the flicker of recognition on the man’s face, the sudden respect as he heard Kincaid’s name. Was there anyone in the state who hadn’t heard of this man?

      “Cole Darwin,” the officer said. “If you’re looking for Lenny, he’s not here.”

      “I know that. Would you have any idea where we could find him?”

      Darwin shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Lenny gets around.”

      “Look,” Kincaid persisted, “I know he’s in trouble. I want to help, to talk with him, but he’s not at home and I don’t know where else to look.” He paused, waiting. “I’d be mighty appreciative.”

      Cole sat up straighter, glanced to the left, then the right before leaning closer to Kincaid. “Try his apartment, 125 Hanover, off Mill Avenue. You didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

      “Right. Thanks.” Hand on Sara’s arm, he guided her outside into bright sunlight.

      Despite the heat, Sara felt a shiver take her. “An apartment? Why would Lenny need an apartment?” she asked, truly puzzled.

      “We’re about to find out,” Kincaid said, although he thought he had a pretty good idea. When a married man kept an apartment, usually there was only one reason.

      The Manderly Inn was actually two three-story apartment complexes, motel-style with a somewhat neglected courtyard between. At Kincaid’s knock, the manager ambled out of the lower unit facing the parking lot.

      Middle-aged and short, wearing a gray T-shirt and chewing on a toothpick, the man squinted up at Kincaid. “You want to rent a place?” he asked. “We’ve got one on the third ready now and another on the first floor by next week.”

      “No, that’s not why we’re here.” Kincaid showed him his badge.

      He studied the badge for several seconds. “I’m Charley, the super. What do you need?”

      “Lenny Nelson rents a place here, I understand. Is he around?”

      Charley shook his head. “Haven’t seen Lenny since a week or so ago.”

      “We СКАЧАТЬ