Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required (3 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Dating Service - California

BOOK: Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required
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My eyes filled and burned. She’d clung to Hugh Crimson, her worthless ex-husband, in order to have a baby. Most people thought his betrayal of Angel by screwing her manicurist was what had sent Angel on her mission of revenge.
Most people were wrong. Mostly wrong, anyway. Angel had been royally pissed off about that. But the real reason, the deepest reason, was that Hugh Crimson had lied to Angel about his ability to father a child. One of his manipulations had been to have a lab report changed to show he had a normal sperm count, when he was shooting blanks.
He had led Angel on for years, saying that they would have a baby together.
Because he knew that Angel did not want to die childless and alone.
When Angel had found out about that, the gloves came off and she decided to pay Hugh back for the years of emotional torture.
Sure, a psychiatrist might say that Angel was stalking and tormenting Hugh to avoid her own pain. But they’d be wrong. Angel was working through it. She kept moving forward, building a life with her lingerie company. She had lots of friends, and she’d accepted that she might not have her own kids. But she’d always have my two sons. They loved her more than they would have loved an aunt. She didn’t have to worry about dying alone.
God. What if she was—
A noise saved me from finishing that thought. Detective Vance came out the front door. The sun shone down on him, catching the highlights in his ruthlessly short blond hair. His brown eyes were flat and grim. No dimples showed in his hard, square face. His swimmer shoulders were tight under his gray jacket. He watched me for a minute before walking over and sitting in the wrought-iron chair.
“Shaw.”
“Vance.” Our uneasy history, and my own unstable emotions, kept me cautious. “What do you know about this? Where’s Angel?”
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know, Shaw. There’s no note. No sign of a ransom demand. Her mother is out of town?”
“On a cruise with my mother. I don’t know if I should call her. What would I say? She’s in the middle of the ocean—what can she do?” I hated feeling so out of control.
“Let us get a handle on the situation before you scare her mother. There’s nothing she can do from the ship to help us right now.”
“Nothing she can do?” My blood pressure shot up. “Angel is her daughter!”
Vance remained deadpan. “How do you feel right now, Shaw? Sitting here, waiting and not knowing. Why would you do that to Angel’s mom? Wait until you have something concrete to tell her.”
Damn it, he was right. I struggled to get my blood pressure and emotions under control. Once, I had gone to a yoga class with Angel, and supposedly, breathing was the key. I breathed.
I still felt like smacking Vance, but that was a step up from wanting to grab his gun and shoot him. “Fine, now what? Did you see the knife, and the blood on that dish towel? Her purse is here and so is her car. Someone kidnapped Angel. Are you going to call the FBI?” Crap, I was forgetting to breathe.
Vance hauled his little notebook out of his shirt pocket. “We don’t know that she was kidnapped, Shaw. What you see in that house might have been due to a lovers’ quarrel, and they went off to Palm Springs to make up.”
I wanted to shoot him again. Taking in a breath to send calming oxygen to all those angry cells, I struggled to be reasonable. “She didn’t walk out of that house on her own. What are you going to do about it?”
His jaw twitched, and then he uncapped his Bic pen. “Let’s start with what you know. Tell me where you last saw Angel.”
That gave me something constructive to focus on. “Angel went to Daystar Casino, where the Silky Men were performing.” Vance wrote as I summed up what I knew about Angel’s visit to Daystar.
Vance looked up when I stopped talking. “She took her car to Daystar?”
“Yes. And that purse in her bedroom. I saw her with it Friday night. That’s when we made the plans to meet here this morning.”
Vance grimaced. “That would be the purse you picked up and rifled through on your trek through all my evidence?”
I winced, knowing how particular cops were about evidence. “I was looking for her, Vance. What if she’d been in the house and hurt?” I looked down at the frosted beveled glass top of the wrought-iron table.
He ignored my question. “Angel was here after you saw her at Daystar. When did she say she would be coming home?”
“After the Silky Men’s set last night. She would have checked out of her room earlier and left her stuff in the car. Then watched the performance and come home sometime late last night. Maybe even early this morning.”
He nodded and wrote. “Did she say she ran into any problems at the casino?”
“No.” Angel was a beautiful and outgoing woman. Who would want to hurt her? I ran my finger over the beveled glass, feeling each cold bump. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen. She can’t just disappear.”
Vance sighed and leaned back in the cushioned chair. “Has she ever done anything like this before?”
I glared at him. “You mean trashed her own house, then hailed a taxi and hid away while everyone was worried sick about her?” I did not want to believe this. It was easier to be angry with Vance than to believe something had happened to Angel. Where was she? Was she scared right now? Tied up? Hurt . . . or dead?
Stop it
, I told myself. I would not fall apart. I had to hold it together and think.
His jaw twitched, then settled. “This could be two separate events. What I meant was, is it possible that Angel went somewhere with someone and didn’t tell you? Then her house was broken into?”
I narrowed my gaze. “You mean like she blew me off for some hotbody she met at the casino and took off to Hawaii?”
His mouth thinned. “Yes.”
I shrugged, the anger washing out. Angel was Angel. She could be unpredictable, but. . . “I don’t think so. She takes her lingerie business too seriously to up and disappear. We had a plan to meet this morning so I could pick up the couch.” The one with a butcher knife in it. A shudder rolled up my spine, but I went on, “And I know she had booked a party or two for her Tempt-an-Angel Lingerie. She’d have come home to get the details arranged. Or at the very least, have her cell phone with her to do her business. She has both her landline and cell number on her business cards.”
Vance nodded. “OK, we’ll move on. What about problems? Has she gotten on the wrong side of anyone?”
“Her ex-husband,” I muttered. I hadn’t remembered to ask Angel about Hugh at Daystar. When Linda had mentioned Hugh was there, I’d seen the look of disgust on Angel’s face. “Angel was mad at him about something Friday night but I don’t know what.”
Vance looked at his notes. “Hugh Crimson, correct? He’s sworn out a complaint in the past about her stalking him.”
“It came to nothing.” Mainly because the police liked Angel and detested Hugh.
Vance fixed his brown gaze on me. “Nothing, huh? Angel has some very high tech tracking equipment in her house.”
I shrugged. “She collects stuff. It’s a hobby.”
“Shaw, I’m trying to get a picture here. Could her ex-husband have had something to do with this?”
It wasn’t the time to worry about defending Angel. She could be in real danger. I tried to picture Hugh having something to do with the state of Angel’s house. “Maybe . . . he’s not that bright. He might trash her house, and he used to live here when they were married, so he’d have that going for him. But doing something physically to Angel?” I shook my head, I just couldn’t see it. “Hugh’s a coward; I can’t see him dragging her out of the house.”
“I’ll talk to him, and his wife,” he looked down at his notes, “Brandi.”
“What else?”
Vance shut his notebook, and leaned his arms on the table. “I’m going to investigate, Shaw. I’m going to find Angel. I already told you I’d talk to her ex-husband. I’ll call Daystar to find out when she checked out of her room, and the last time anyone saw her. I’ll find out if she filed any complaints while there. I’ll talk to Rick Mesa from the Silky Men. I may need you for more information, but I’ll find her.”
I watched his face. “
We’ll
find her.”
The silence stretched. Noise filtered out from the house, the sounds of police work. Birds chirped from the trees on the street. A car drove by. “Look, Shaw, I know she’s your friend and you are worried—”
I held up my hand. “Do you know that Angel’s biggest fear is dying alone with no one caring? No? Well, I do, Vance, and I’m not going to leave her out there alone.” I stood up and walked away. I had to get home to my sons. They loved Angel and would be devastated.
Then I was going to find my best friend.
I just hoped I found her alive.
3
G
abe stood against my T-bird, which was parked on Angel’s driveway. A cop-on-the-street expression stamped down hard on his face, leaving his eyes watchful and his mouth tight. He had his arms crossed over his chest, waiting. Patient, but ready.
Like a street fighter. Used to danger he couldn’t quite see but a sixth sense warned him was there.
I’d bet Heart Mates that right then, his sixth sense was sending out warnings. “Gabe, what do you think happened to Angel?”
He uncrossed his arms, reached out, and tugged me to him. “I wish I knew, babe. The house looks tossed and searched by someone who was getting progressively pissed off. If Angel did drugs, I’d think she screwed a dealer.”
I stiffened and looked up at his face. “You sound just like Vance. Blaming Angel, and she’s the victim!”
“I know Angel’s clean. But she might have crossed the path of someone who isn’t clean by accident. Wouldn’t be the first time. I have some calls into Daystar. I should get a call back soon. We’ll have more to go on if we know when she left the casino. I’m going to put out more calls to some other contacts.”
I nodded dumbly. That made a certain amount of sense. I had lectured Vance about doing something, but I didn’t know what to do. How was I going to find Angel? Who could Angel have gotten mixed up with who would be involved in shady—“Hugh! Gabe, I think Angel was pissed at Hugh for something when I saw her at the casino. I don’t know what it was, though. But Linda Simpkins had seen Hugh at the casino Friday night.” Maybe there was more of a connection than I had thought when I talked to Vance.
“That’s a good place to start.” He touched my face. “We’ll go talk to him as soon as we can.”
I knew Gabe’s plan had been to move the couch for me, then work on one of his current cases. His private investigating business was growing fast. “What about your work? Is this going to cause you problems?”
“I made a call and cleared my schedule.”
A call? That was vague. But he clearly was dropping everything to help me find Angel. Gabe and I were at an uneasy place. He’d asked me to work for him and train as a private investigator, but Heart Mates was my career. I liked working part-time for him when something came up or I had another bill to pay. Gabe didn’t push it and we sort of skirted the issue.
Now wasn’t the time to sort this out. Angel was missing. “OK, but I have to get home to the boys. Check in with them. They’ll be devastated.”
Gabe nodded. “Let’s go.”
 
 
Home was where my grandfather lived. The boys and I had moved in with him not long after Trent died. In the beginning, the move had allowed the boys and me to get back on our feet, both financially and emotionally.
Then I began to realize that Grandpa needed us as much as we needed him. We had blended into a family. Grandpa helped with the boys and gave me emotional support, and we all kept him company. In his seventies now, Grandpa was a retired magician with an active social life in the senior community and on the Internet. Gossip was his retirement hobby.
Gabe and I pulled up side by side in the dirt lot facing the front porch of the little three-bedroom house.
Grandpa came out on the porch and watched us get out of our cars. Going up the steps, I could see the tense line of his thin shoulders and the concern stamped on his craggy face. His blue eyes were shadowed with worry.
He knew. I hugged him.
“Sammy, I got word. Angel’s missing?”
Letting go of him, I stepped back. “Looks like it. Have you told the boys?”
He shook his head. “I put them to work making brownies. I knew you’d get home as soon as you could.”
My throat tightened. No one supported my mothering skills like Grandpa. We both loved TJ and Joel, and tried our best to raise them right. What would I have done without him? “Thanks. I’ll go in to talk to them. Gabe can catch you up.”
Taking a breath, I walked into the house. Rich chocolate coated the air, while punches of laughter and the sound of spraying water filled the house. An occasional bark meant Ali, our crack guard dog, was helping TJ and Joel with cleanup duty.
I walked through the small living room to the dining room, set my purse on the glass-topped table, then did a ninety-degree turn into the long kitchen.
TJ wiped the counters with a sponge, while Joel stuck a bowl in the dishwasher with one hand and flung drops of water from his other hand toward TJ. Ali had her elegant German shepherd nose on the yellowed linoleum, licking up spots of batter.
“Smells good.” I walked into the kitchen.
Ali finished licking up the chocolate, then came over to let me pet her. She sat down and leaned against my leg. Ali had washed out from the police dog program for a little problem she had with beer drinking. We adored Ali. Looking up to the boys, I said, “I hope you didn’t give her too much chocolate. It’ll upset her stomach.”
TJ threw the sponge toward the sink, but missed and hit his brother. “Nah, we know people food will make her sick. We just let her lick up the spills.”
Joel threw the sponge back, hitting TJ on the side of the face. “Mom, the brownies are almost done. Grandpa made coffee. Know what?” Joel looked at me with his vivid blue eyes. “Grandpa got a phone call, then suddenly asked TJ and me to make brownies. I think Grandpa was keeping us busy until you got home. What’s up?”
I glanced to my left to see the full coffeemaker on the counter. The boys were too smart. I went to TJ first, put one arm around his shoulders, then put my other arm around Joel. We stood with our backs to the sink, looking toward the stove. “I just came from Angel’s house. It looks like there’s been a break-in there.”
TJ said, “Where’s Angel? Is she all right?”
I looked at TJ. He was the more serious of the two boys. “That’s the problem, TJ. We don’t know where Angel is. Her car is there, and one of her purses.” I left out the part about the butcher knife and the blood on the towel. “The police are looking, and we are going to look for her, too.”
TJ’s shoulders went back, his whole body stiffening, while Joel shrank a bit, leaning in closer to me. “Mom,” Joel said, “do you think she was kidnapped?”
My throat hurt. Ached. But I made myself look at Joel’s pale face. “I don’t know, Joel. But I do know this: none of us will stop looking until we find her.”
The buzzer on the stove went off. The brownies were done.
I squeezed the boys, then let them go. “Why don’t you get some milk and we’ll eat the brownies hot.”
TJ headed toward the fridge, but Ali beat him to it. She stuck her nose in the seam and barked.
“No beer, Ali.” I grabbed a potholder to take the brownies out. I set the hot pan on the top of the stove and closed the oven door.
Joel handed me a stack of paper plates. “Mom, is Gabe here?”
“On the porch with Grandpa. He had some calls to make.” I opened a drawer and pulled out a knife.
Joel shifted back and forth on his feet. “Do you think I should take him some coffee? Or brownies?”
Finding the serrated cake knife, I shut the drawer and looked at Joel. I wanted to make the world right for my son. But what Joel needed right now was to check in with Gabe. Though I never had intended to bring another man into TJ and Joel’s life, Gabe had just sort of merged in. The boys respected him, maybe even had a little hero worship going on. “Take him some coffee, Joel. He’d like that.”
Joel went to the coffeemaker, got a cup down from the cupboard, and carefully poured in some coffee.
TJ set two glasses of milk on the kitchen table, then went to the coffeemaker. “I’ll take Grandpa some coffee,” he volunteered.
I watched my two sons walk out to gather strength from Gabe Pulizzi. Ali slid her head beneath my hand and looked up at me. I met her liquid brown-and-gold eyes. She was a female. She understood. Love meant letting them go just a little bit.
And trusting Gabe to be the man they needed him to be.
I rubbed Ali’s ears, then decided I’d try to call Rick Mesa. My phone tree Rolodex was on the counter and I quickly looked up Rick’s number. He might be the last person to have seen Angel at Daystar since she was there to watch his group play their set. The phone rang until the answering machine picked up.
Damn.
I hung up the phone and went to the sink and washed my hands. On autopilot, I went back to the stove, picked up the knife and cut some hot brownies. But my thoughts were rushing around, dredging up every possibility. Could Angel have surprised a burglar? Been doing some kind of housecleaning and cut herself? What?
Where are you, Angel?
My eyes stung with tears.
I heard the front door open. It sounded like they were all coming into the house. Blinking, I fought to steady myself. To be strong. The boys came in first. I turned and handed them each a plate of brownies. They took them to the table.
Then Grandpa came up, putting his hand on my shoulder. “How are you, Sammy?”
I looked up into his crafty blue eyes. Grandpa had been the father I never had. Father–daughter dances? Grandpa went and charmed everyone there into forgetting that he wasn’t my father, but my grandfather. He made the absence of a biological dad bearable.
Hell, I’d have traded any father for Grandpa.
“I’m scared for her, Grandpa.”
He put his arm around me. “Me, too, Sammy. Me, too. I’m gonna check in with all my friends and see if anyone’s heard anything. Angel’s not the type of woman to go unnoticed. Someone may have seen something and not realized Angel was in danger.”
In spite of my utter terror for Angel, I smiled. It was true. Angel was stunning, with long red hair, green eyes, and killer legs. But the real core of Angel was her fearless determination. She was bright, resourceful, and not a woman who was easily controlled. That gave me hope for her.
Putting my arm around his waist, I said, “Thank you, Grandpa.”
He kissed my head, picked up a plate with a warm crumbling brownie, and went to the table. I followed, carrying two more plates. I set one in front of Gabe, then took the seat next to him.
Gabe looked over at me. “Sam, can you put together a list of phone numbers of the guys in the the Silky Men’s group and Angel’s friends? Barney and the boys can call them to see if anyone knows where Angel is, or has heard from her.”
I nodded and glanced at my sons. Both of them looked a little more hopeful and steady. Having a job made them feel like they were doing something. I reached behind me to Grandpa’s desk and grabbed a yellow pad of paper. I started making the list.
Gabe went on, “OK, here’s what I got from my source at the casino. Angel checked out Saturday morning around eleven, but stayed at the casino long enough to charge a dinner at about five-thirty in the afternoon and a couple of Diet Cokes at the last show of the evening. We presume she left after that show and came home, meaning she wouldn’t have gotten home before eleven.”
I stopped writing and looked at Gabe. “How did you get all that?”
“The head of security at Daystar is a friend of mine. Another ex-cop. I told him it was extremely urgent that we locate Angel. Also, Daystar has a reputation to worry about. They want us to find her.”
It made sense, though I doubted any of this information flowed over official channels. “OK, here’s the list.” I slid it to Grandpa.
Gabe took a bite of the brownie, then washed it down with coffee. “The police will check the local hospitals and urgent-care facilities to see if ”—he glanced at the boys—“anything significant turns up there.”
Meaning, I knew, a knife wound. I appreciated Gabe’s sparing the boys that information.
He looked at me. “In the meantime, Sam and I will go talk to Angel’s ex-husband and take a look around. You up for it, Sam? Or would you rather stay here at the house?”
I looked around the table. The men I loved the most in the world sat around the table. But Angel was my best friend. She had seen me through some really tough times and celebrated my good times. I meant to be there for her during this bad time. Grandpa and Ali would take care of TJ and Joel. “I’m going with you. We’re going to find her.”
 
 
Since Angel had gotten the house in the divorce, Hugh Crimson and his wife, Brandi, lived in Brandi’s duplex off Lincoln Street. Hugh’s beat-up old Mercedes dripped oil on the asphalt driveway. But I didn’t see any sign of cops.
Or Angel.
The weed-choked brown grass crunched beneath my shoes. We headed up to Hugh’s half of the duplex. I rang the doorbell.
Hugh yanked open the door, his large forehead gleaming like a dead fish in the sunlight. His rat eyes darted around. “What the fuck do you want, Sam? I already told that cop you sent over here I don’t know where Angel is.”
Rage slapped hard against my breastbone. I wanted to slam my fist into Hugh’s solar plexus. “When was the last time you saw Angel?” It was all I could do to control my fear and anger.

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