Red Julie (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 2) (22 page)

“Oh, sorry. I must have left my phone in the truck,” Joe told him. “I haven’t heard from Liv, though. Not sure what she’s up to.”

“She usually answers my texts right away. I stopped by her house before I came here, but no one answered the doorbell,” Brad said. “So I came to see if you knew where she was.”

“I haven’t seen her today. Maybe she’s at the antique store?” Joe said.

“That’s going to be my next stop.”

Joe’s face creased with worry. “Why wouldn’t she answer her cell?”

“Maybe she forgot to charge it is all,” Brad said. “No need for concern.”

But Joe was worried and it was written all over his expression. He took the bread out of the oven and set it on the stovetop to cool. “I’m going with you.” He covered the salad with wrap and turned the crock pot down. “Let’s go,” he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

Brad looked in the shop window. The ‘Closed’ sign showed through the glass and no one answered the door when they knocked. “I don’t see anyone. The lights are off in the back room.”

“Where could she be? She’s always either here or with one of us,” Joe said.

“You have a key?” Brad asked.

Joe fumbled through his key ring looking for the right one. Aggie had given him a key to the shop in case of emergency.

“Did Liv have a friend planning to visit?” Brad asked.

“Her good friend isn’t coming until August.”

They exchanged glances.

“You don’t think that Alexei guy called her again?” Joe asked.

“He has been trying to get in touch with her, but she never answers his calls. I don’t think she would. We talked about it recently and she said she would keep clear of him.”

Joe found the key and inserted it in the lock. They stepped in and flicked the light switch. The two of them peered around the shop for anything that might suggest Olivia’s whereabouts.

“Her phone,” Brad said, picking up Olivia’s phone from the work table. “Well, that’s why she’s not answering.” He returned it the table.

“But where the hell is she?” Joe said. “She never just disappears without telling me what’s up.”

“She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t have to keep us abreast of her comings and goings,” Brad said. “Maybe she… had a date or something.”

“Oh, come on,” Joe said.

“It’s not that farfetched, Joe.”

“She doesn’t do that. She tells me. Always.” Joe’s expression darkened. “Something’s wrong.”

“Maybe it was the spur of the moment. Someone came by…asked her to go for a drink,” Brad offered.

Joe shook his head. “No.”

“There has to be a simple explanation. We can’t assume the worst,” Brad tried to convince Joe and himself.

Joe shook his head again. “
I
can assume the worst. Something’s wrong. I’m calling the police.” He reached in his pocket for his cell and remembered he left it in his truck. He borrowed Brad’s phone. When the dispatcher answered, Joe expressed his concerns.

“I’ll pass the information on to the officers, but they usually won’t get involved for twenty-four hours. You said there isn’t any indication of a struggle either at her home or at her business. It’s impossible to immediately determine if someone is missing or just hasn’t kept in touch or they forget to call to say where they are. I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon,” the dispatcher said. “She probably just forgot to tell you. She’ll turn up, sir.” The dispatcher cleared his throat. “It happens all the time. She’s only been out of touch for a few hours. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Olivia doesn’t just disappear. That’s not her. She isn’t like that,” Joe said. “That’s what has us concerned. It would be completely out of her personality and character to just disappear like that. In fact, she doesn’t leave for even a few hours without telling me where she’s going.”

“Well, sir, I’m sorry, but the officers don’t get involved when an adult has only been out of contact for a few hours. You can go down to the station in the morning if you still have concerns.”

Joe ended the call by pushing a button on Brad’s cell. He was fuming. “Do you believe this?” He started pacing around the shop.

“Maybe she had another idea about the recent goings on and she’s checking it out,” Brad offered hopefully.

“Is her car at her house?” Joe asked.

“It wasn’t in the driveway.”

“Let’s go see if it’s in the garage.” They walked back up the hill to Olivia’s house. The garage had a keypad attached to the door frame and Joe punched in the code that raised the door. Olivia’s Jeep was sitting in the bay.

“Maybe she just got home,” Brad said. He knocked on the door leading from the garage to Olivia’s kitchen. No one answered. Joe removed his key chain from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“Liv?” he called as he entered. It was quiet in the house. Brad and Joe walked through the rooms, looking to be sure Olivia wasn’t inside hurt or sick.

“I feel like a peeping Tom,” Brad said.

“Her keys are missing. She always leaves them right here,” Joe said, indicating the small kitchen desk built into the wall. “So we know she probably was at the antique shop today because she left her phone there. And her keys are gone, which she would have needed to get into the store. But the keys weren’t left at the store and the place was in order and the door was locked.” Joe was pacing again. “So she probably left of her own accord.”

Joe stopped walking and stared at Brad.

“What?” Brad asked.

“I don’t know,” Joe answered.

They were both quiet for a minute.

“Maybe she tried to call you. You left your phone in your truck,” Brad offered.

Joe’s face brightened. They locked Olivia’s back door, lowered the garage door, and jogged across the grass to Joe’s truck, which was parked in his driveway. He flung open the driver side door and pulled his phone off the console. He looked at the phone’s face.

“No missed calls, except one from you,” he told Brad. His arm dropped to his side. “I’m worried, Brad,” Joe’s voice quavered. His face looked all rubbery, like he was about to lose it.

“It’s okay.” Brad was worried too, but he was desperate to reassure Joe. “I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she went shopping.”

Joe gave Brad a look. Olivia hated shopping.

“Well, maybe she went for a swim,” Brad said.

“It’s late…it’s dark,” Joe said. “She’d be home by now if she went for a swim. She wouldn’t swim alone in the dark.” Joe sat down on the truck’s runner. He put his head in his hands. “What are we going to do?”

Brad walked the length of the truck and back up again. Back and forth several times. He stopped in front of Joe. “Maybe Alexei called her and she went out with him. She wanted to, so that she could try to find out if he or his father was hiding something.”

Joe lifted his head.

Brad continued, “I told her not to. But who knows; maybe he called and…”

“Did you take her phone from the shop?” Joe asked. “Can you look at her calls and texts?”

“I left the phone on the work table. Wait. Maybe she’s on another stakeout at Martin Andersen’s house.”

Joe looked hopeful.

“We decided not to go there tonight because I had the event at the bookstore…we were going to wait until tomorrow night. You know how she is…maybe she couldn’t wait.”

Joe stood. “Let’s go see. Oh, but your event. I’ll go see. You go back to the store.”

Brad ran his hand through his hair. “I want to go with you, but I don’t have anyone at the store who knows what to do. Maybe I could cancel it.”

“You know you can’t. It’s too late for that.”

Brad looked at his phone to check the time. “Oh no, I should be there right now. I’m late already.” He made a call to the bookstore to tell his employees what to do until he arrived. “Joe, call me as soon as you get to Andersen’s house.”

“I will,” Joe told him.

“I’m going to run back to the bookstore,” Brad said.

“I can drive you,” Joe offered.

“Too much traffic. It will be quicker to run.” The traffic at night on Shore Road was often bumper to bumper with people arriving for vacations or coming into town for the restaurants and shops.

“I have a bike. Take that,” Joe said.

“Yeah, okay. A bike would work,” Brad said.

They went into Joe’s garage.

“What the hell is this?” Brad asked.

“It’s an adult tricycle,” Joe told him. “It’s brand new. I never use it.”

“I can see why,” Brad said. “Why don’t you take the bike to Andersen’s instead of the truck? You can bypass the traffic and get there faster. I’ll just run to the bookstore. It won’t take me long.”

Brad started down the driveway and looked back. “Call me. Let me know if she’s there.”

Joe nodded and wheeled the bike into the driveway.

Olivia woke up with a start. She had dozed off leaning against the back wall. She heard men’s voices. A sudden bang and hum from above her head jolted her to instinctively stand up. A metal door was rolling down in front of the bars of her cell. She ran to the bars, trying to see out before the door completely cut her off from being able to view anything beyond her own four walls. She couldn’t see anyone but she could make out the sound of men talking from somewhere in the large room. The door reached the floor with a shudder and slam. Olivia stepped back. She hated enclosed spaces and she started to hyperventilate. She crouched down and put her hands on the floor to steady herself. She tried to slow her breathing. With a bang above her, the lights of her hold switched off and she was plunged into total darkness.

“No!” she screamed. She could not see her own hand in front of her face. She stood, panicked, and rushed to touch the wall. She was disoriented and felt along the walls until she found the bars. Reaching through them, she pounded against the outer door.

“Open this door!” she shrieked. She was nearly hysterical from the fear of being enclosed alone. She started to sob, and reached down to pull her shoe off so she could use it to pound against the metal door. She fell to the floor as she tried to yank off the shoe. Olivia sat in the blackness, panting.
Get hold of yourself. Don’t lose control.
Calm down, calm down
.

She put her shoe back on and tied the laces.
They want me to freak out. I won’t play into their hands. I won’t.
Olivia thought she heard something outside the door. She crawled closer and put her ear as near to the door as she could. She heard voices but could not make out what they were saying. She heard a noise like metal sliding along metal. She heard a woman speak. Then she heard her screaming. The screams faded as if the woman was being taken away.
Oh no. Oh no.

Joe rode the bike down along Shore Road, staying as close to the shoulder as he could so that he was able to pass by the cars which were bumper to bumper in a line on the street. The bike didn’t have a headlight on it, so Joe balanced a flashlight in his hand while also holding onto the handle bar so that he could see the road better and so he was visible to others in the darkness. The bike didn’t have anything on the back except a small reflector and Joe worried that a car might bash into him from behind if the traffic started to flow.

He turned down the road that led to the cove and followed past the restaurants and stores until the road curved again to the right, leading to the section of private homes.

When Joe arrived at Andersen’s house, he rode the bike down the driveway and pulled it onto the grass next to some bushes. He turned off the flashlight and stepped quietly along the walkway leading to the left of the house. He stopped and listened. He gazed up to the three levels of decks above him but could see nothing. The house was dark from Joe’s angle. He moved further up the walkway. Now he could see a light in a room off the first deck. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs that led to the first level. He knew Olivia didn’t have a key to the house, but maybe she met Mr. Hannigan and was inside the house with him. Or maybe the lights were on a timer. Maybe Olivia was on the deck doing her surveillance.

Joe called softly, “Liv?”

Nothing. For a minute, he wrestled with whether or not he should go and knock at the door. He put his foot on the stair and started up. When he reached the deck and saw that it was empty, he sidled up to the glass door and peeked into the expansive living room. Something caught his eye. Joe squinted and moved his head up close to the glass. On the far sofa was Olivia’s backpack.
But where’s Liv?

Joe raised his hand to knock on the glass just as a man entered the living room from inside the house. The man halted abruptly when he saw Joe’s face at the door.

Olivia sat on the floor, having pushed herself into a black corner of her lockup. Being in the corner made her feel more secure because she had the two walls close to her shoulders. She wished she could sleep but rest evaded her. She rubbed her forehead and thought about Joe and Brad.
They must be worried. They must wonder where I am.
She stretched her legs in front of her to get the kinks out of them. She was sore and achy and her head pounded from what she thought must be after-effects of whatever was in the syringe.

The metal door boomed and a motor whirred. The door lifted slowly, allowing light to enter the cell a bit at a time, as if it was dawn and the sun was inching over the horizon. Olivia stood, grateful for the light but fearful of what would come next. When the door was fully retracted, two men appeared from the right: the short, stocky man with the scar and the greasy-haired man. The scar-face made a motion with his hand and the bars slid back. They both scrutinized her. The one who gestured for the bars to open signaled for Olivia to come forward. She stayed where she was.

After a moment he said firmly, “Come.”

Olivia moved forward. The greasy-haired man showed handcuffs to her but she did not extend her arms.

“I don’t need handcuffs,” she said.

“Come, come,” the scarred-faced man said and waved his hand slightly. “We’ll decide that.”

The greasy-haired man took hold of her arms and twisted them behind her, forcing the handcuffs on. The scar-faced man wheeled to the left and strode to a door at the far end of the bunker room. The greasy-haired man gestured for Olivia to follow the first man. He gave her a push and walked behind her. Olivia glanced at the floor and wall as she walked stiff-legged and was thankful there didn’t appear to be any fresh stains on them.