Tired, I throw down my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose. The case is running cold and for the first time since saying yes, I’m wishing I had gone with my gut. Don’t get involved with missing persons; just let the chips fall where they may and I could have walked away.
Instead I’m pouring over news clippings of Frances Scott. I finally got around to taking the pretty librarian for a drink and though my thoughts have been on another woman for a few days now it was good be flirted at. Makes a man feel good and flirting back took my mind off the case for the two hours we spent at the lounge.
It also helped me get privileges to stay late at the library.
Now, at home, I can hear Julianne singing over the radio. A pungent smell of nail polish stains the hallway and I want to close my door but the joy of having my daughter here stops me.
It’s been two days since my talk with Gemma and Owen. The name Grace Bennett weighs heavily on my thoughts and I know I need to follow-up with her. The girl hangs like an albatross and my gut is telling me that something bad is going on here.
Standing I stretch my back and look out the window in my make-shift study. The street is busy below and people are gliding around each other to get to their cars or taxis.
“Daddy?”
“Yes Julianne?” I turn and see her leaning against the doorjamb, her fingers at her side and splayed as the nails continue to dry.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine sweetheart.” I pause as she pinches her lips. “Why do you ask?”
“You’ve just, you’ve been in here for about an hour now,” her eyes flick to the scattered news clippings. “Oh! I remember that shooting.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I cross my arms. “You do?”
“Everybody knew about that shooting Daddy,” Julianne tells me with the limited patience of a teenager. “Plus, when the guy’s wife is one of the wealthiest people? Oh yea, everybody talks about it. Plus, the niece went to my school.”
Something wracks at my gut and I look at her, wide eyes. “She did?”
“Yea, I mean, I was a freshman when she was a senior but everyone pretty much knew her or about her,” Julianne explains with a shrug. “Plus, she was real nice to everyone. It didn’t seem fakey, you know? She actually would sit and talk to you for a little bit. And everyone wanted to be her friend too.”
“Did you ever talk to her?”
“Once, maybe twice. Mariah had her for a tutor in – “ here she pauses and scrunches her lips. “In math or science I think. So yea, I talked to her but it was nothing major.”
Little things, sometimes you just need the little things. “Thank you sweetheart?”
“For what?”
“Helping.”
*
“Is it okay if I go back to mom’s tonight?”
Eyeing my daughter over the rim of my coffee mug, I raise an eyebrow. “Julianne, of course you can.” I pause because she’s shifting slightly from the balls to the heel of her feet. “Is everything okay?”
“Yea,” she smiles at me, a true smile and I return it. “I just…miss her.”
“Well, you should.” I give a little shrug and kiss the top of her head, making her scrunch up a little. “You’re with her most of the time and things have cooled off.”
“You’re not mad?”
Shaking my head, I kiss her head once more. “No sweetheart, I’m not mad.” Draining the rest of my coffee I set the mug in the sink and turn back to her. “Tell you what, I’ll even call her when I get to the office and let her know you’ll be comin’ home tonight.”
“Thank you daddy.”
“You’re welcome sweetheart. Now, let’s get you off to school.”
*
Phone call to Lisa finished I’m back to scouring the news articles. A few catch my eye of Alicia, some of them what look like stock photos, other candid with her leaving the funeral. Behind her is Cordelia but only a few of the articles about Scott mention her. Most either leave smoke trails of his nefarious enterprises or how he had married up with Alicia Winthrop.
Letting one flutter to the desk I pick up another and glare at it. Francis Scott is staring back at me, all smirk and slick hair. He’s with a group of his associates, some with their backs to the camera. Wise choice since their walking out of a courthouse after getting off on some charge or another. One man, back turned and shoulders straight is standing next to him. No name in the caption, just a blurb in the description about his “partner” standing next to him.
Another thing to chalk up to ask Alicia about.
Taking a deep breath, I let out a slow release. “Miller!”
My shout carries through the open door and Ellie’s chair scraps against the wood floor. “It’s a small office Emmett, no need to yell.” Blinking at me and then the clippings she tilts her head. “So, what?”
“I need to bounce some ideas.”
Walking into the room she sits across from me, legs crossed. “All right. Shoot.”
Leaning forward I stare over her shoulder, my fingertips against my chin. “So, from what we know is that Cordelia Winthrop went out for a night at a club two. Prior to her going out she went up to her aunt’s house and stayed for a little while before coming back into the city to get ready. We figure she was coming back to her flat from the state of disarray but we can’t be for certain.”
Ellie hums at this in agreement and then wiggles her fingers for me to continue. “After a few days of not hearing from her Alicia gets worried. She somehow figures out I’m off a case and meets me at Mel’s to get me to investigate.”
“And you agree the next day.”
“So I agree. What I have learned so far is that Cordelia is a good kid, out of school, loyal to her aunt from what Gemma has said and noticed. She enjoys to party but she’s young so it’s warranted.”
“What about Grace Bennett?”
“And there’s the extra piece; that little hanger on. Actually, it’s one of them.” Staring down at the news clippings I lick my lip. “What if this is about Scott?”
“But he’s dead.”
“He is,” I stress. “But his business isn’t. Gemma told me a few things but obviously didn’t go into too much detail. One thing she did say is that Cordelia went to her club to keep tabs on Scott; she hated him, but she watched him because of her aunt.”
“Ms. Winthrop put her niece on her husband as a watchdog?”
“No.” Rubbing my face I let out a low sigh. “I’m thinking more along the lines of Cordelia feeling an affection for her aunt and wanting to make sure her uncle wasn’t pissing away too much of her money.”
“Eh, seems plausible.” Leaning forward, Ellie sweeps her hand through the air. “But what would her disappearing act have to do with her dead uncle.”
Standing I begin to pace behind my chair. “Cordelia still went into the club to party and I’m thinking Scott’s outfit still works out of there. Not that Gemma would tell me but they had a good thing going there, and it brings in the clientele for Gemma.”
“True,” Ellie draws out. She leans back and tightens her legs in. “So, what, are you thinking Cordelia saw something one of the nights she was there? Or that night? And one of the guys got to her?”
Hearing her say it makes me pause my thoughts. “Possibly.”
“But why haven’t they reached out yet? I mean, if they do have her, it’s been a long time now and you would think that they would have at least try to contact someone.”
“Unless they killed her.”
“Emmett…” Ellie’s white now, her eyes widening.
It makes me sick but I turn to look her straight on. “Look, it’s not what I’m hoping for Miller but I can’t rule it out. It’s not like the outfit needs money from Alicia and with Scott gone they don’t need her running back to her aunt either. They could have taken her to shut her up, thinking that she knows more than she really does.”
“Is that what you really think?”
I let the quiet seep in around us and Ellie shivers. “Well, I’m not going to give up that she’s alive. Maybe she’s being a spoilt child, had a tiff with a friend or boyfriend, and is now shopping her troubles away.” There’s an edge to her voice and she sniffs a little, looking away. Her pallor gives away her true feelings but I leave it be.
“True.”
Watching as her shoulders loosen she turns back to me. “Like you always tell me, anything is possible.”
I’m nodding, smiling a little before opening my mouth to agree when we both jump at the sound of pounding at the front the door.
“What the hell,” Ellie growls and in quick strides is out my office and to the door. “Hold on! Can I help-hey! Hold on then…”
Standing in front of me is Albert the non-butler. His face is various shades of white and red and I fear he’s going to keel over. My height matches his and I can see that’s he actually attempting to calm down. I want to make a remark but I know better and I wait. It seems to help and his face begins to become one color.
“Albert.”
“Mr. Carver,” he hisses out. “Ms. Winthrop has asked that I come to get you.”
“She couldn’t call?” Ellie snaps from behind him and I shake my head sharply. Watching her mouth ‘what?’ I glare at her before turning back to Albert.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ms. Winthrop received a letter today, and then a call. Both about Cordelia. The letter contained a…a picture and the caller did sound like Cordelia.”
“Oh my god,” Ellie gasps and I just start at Albert, my stomach clenching.
