Thyme to Live: A We Sisters Three Mystery (15 page)

My heart was heavy in my chest because I knew he was right. I placed my hand on the small of his back and rubbed a gentle circle.

“I’m sorry, Victor.”

“She could be anywhere in the country. She could be anywhere in the world.” He spoke without lifting his head. His voice was muffled and miserable. It sounded like he was choking back tears.

The nun who’d been with Sister Anastasia when she told me about the children’s area in the basement walked by on the path to the school building just then. She slowed her pace and shot us a concerned look.

‘He’s okay,’ I mouthed.

She smiled a bit uncertainly but nodded and continued down the street. I watched the breeze lift her veil, or whatever her head covering was called, as she strode away. It fluttered behind her.

I jumped to my feet and yanked Victor up by his hand. “I know where she is!”

“
W
here are we going
?” Victor asked for what had to be the seven hundredth time as he panted, hurrying to keep up with me. “Also, why are we running?”

“Sorry.” I slowed my stride. “Something Audra said made me think. Where’s the best place to hide?”

“I don’t know. Is this a riddle?”

“Come on. It’s in plain view—that’s the best place to hide. Why would Helena leave the city to avoid being found, when there are eight and a half million people here? She could get lost in a crowd without leaving her neighborhood.”

He shook his head. “Too dangerous. Sure, most people are strangers. But someone could recognize her—the girl who does her nails or the guy where she gets her coffee. She’d never risk it.”

“It’s the smart approach. Once Gabriel’s men established she wasn’t in the apartment, they assumed she fled. They didn’t hang out, canvassing the neighborhood.”

“No, they were too busy trying to catch up with us.”

A small shudder ran down my spine. “Don’t remind me.”

Once Gabriel’s local talent had been booked and processed, Officer Thompson told us they were well-known to the violent crimes squad. They were wanted for the suspected murder of a Latina teenager, as well as a string of armed robberies. I shivered to think how lucky Victor and I had been to have emerged unscathed from our multiple encounters with the men. And how lucky we’d all been at the church.

“You really think Helena would hang around her neighborhood?”

“No, actually I don’t. I think she hung around the Whittier-Clays’ neighborhood.”

He stopped walking and started laughing. “Listen, Helena
definitely
wouldn’t blend in with the titans of industry and millionaires of Carnegie Hill.”

“Every day when I go to train Cate, I get off the subway at Ninety-Sixth Street, stop for a chai latte, and then race around the corner to the apartment.”

“So?”

He followed me down the stairs to the subway station.

After we’d swiped our cards and were standing on the platform, pressed in against the rest of the early commuter crush, I returned to the subject at hand. “So, every day I pass Audra’s favorite playground—it’s right near the apartment building. She and Helena used to go there three or four times a week, easy. I’ll bet that’s the playground where Helena met Lynn.”

“Probably. Okay, go on.”

“The playground is diagonal from the main entrance to the Islamic Cultural Center. When I went to collect Audra from the nuns, she told me ‘the other veiled ladies’ would miss Helena. At the time I was still an adrenaline bomb, and it didn’t really register. But once I was capable of processing thoughts again, I knew where we should look for your sister.”

As comprehension lit in his dark eyes, the train came screeching to a stop at the platform. We fought our way on and claimed a foot of floor space. As my hip brushed his, he leaned over and whispered, “You think she’s hiding there?”

“I’ll bet anything she probably made a friend or two who would have been happy to lend her a veil. We could have walked right past her and wouldn’t have noticed her in a million years.”

W
hen we ascended
the steps to the street, the stairway deposited us directly in front of the playground.

“Is this the playground Helena and Audra came to?” he asked, nodding toward the bright blue and red climbing equipment, teaming with squealing kids.

“Yep.” I pointed to orient him as well as myself. “There’s the Whittier-Clays’ building. And right over there, there’s the Islamic Cultural Center.” The three locations made a perfect triangle—each point was
maybe
a two-minute walk from the next. I could just feel in my gut that I was right.

He stood motionless and stared at the slide and merry-go-round. I knew he was picturing Helena, her long dark curls flying behind her, as she pushed Audra in dizzying circles. To be honest, I was, too.

He shook his head and turned to me. “Now what?”

“Yeah, um, I’m not sure. Can we just show up unannounced?” I gestured toward the mosque’s imposing dome and geometric, glass windows. It was breathtaking, imposing, and more than a little bit intimidating.

“We probably shouldn’t. Right?”

I crossed the sidewalk to enter the playground and located a bench that hadn’t yet been claimed by any of the nannies and au pairs who dotted the playground in groups of twos and threes, keeping a close eye on their charges while they chatted.

“I have no earthly idea,” I told him as we settled ourselves on the chilly bench. “If you thought I seemed out of my element in the church, you should see me in a mosque. Or a synagogue.”

“Your parents weren’t religious?”

“Um, not exactly.” I decided not to mention their brief flirtation with Wicca and the Yule Circle they’d hosted one year on the winter solstice. It hadn’t ended well. The details were fuzzy but I seemed to remember a bonfire that had grown out of control and brought every firefighter in town running to the resort with buckets of water.

“I don’t know much about Islam, either,” he said. “But I’m guessing your dress is, uh ... your cleavage ... never mind.” He stammered and averted his eyes from the front of my dress.

“You picked it,” I reminded him as I ineffectually tried to pull up the bodice.

He blushed. “You look great. But maybe a little immodest for a visit to a mosque.”

I ignored the compliment and checked my watch. “It’s after five. Why don’t we just hang out where we can see the doors and maybe we’ll catch a secretary heading to the subway or something?”

“It’s worth a shot.” He stood and brushed off his slacks.

I stood and adjusted the neckline of my dress again then started walking catty-corner across the park. Across the street, three women were saying their goodbyes in front of the center. Two of them headed toward the subway. The third began to walk toward us. I came to a dead stop. Victor ran right into my back.

“What the—?” he trailed off as he followed my line of sight to the tall, slender woman crossing the playground.

She was making a beeline for the two of us. Her sky-blue
niqab
covered her hair and the the lower half of her face. But as she drew closer, there was no mistaking her—it was Helena.

She broke into a jog and then a full run, the fabric of her ankle-length dress and matching veil fluttering behind her like wings. She lowered her veil, threw her arms around Victor’s neck, and pressed her face into his shoulder, laughing and crying at the same time.

After a moment, she pulled herself upright and searched his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Thyme thought you might have made a friend at the mosque.”

Her dark eyes cut toward me for a moment. “I did. Latifah was kind enough to lend me some clothes, and they’ve been letting me stay there. What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Judging by Victor’s weird, squinty expression, he was focusing all his energy on not crying. I cleared my throat. “Gabriel Vasquez was arrested today. It’s over, Helena. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes grew huge. She turned back to her brother, searching his face. “Is it really true? He’s in custody?”

He nodded. “He’s not getting out. The feds here are interested in him for a whole slew of charges. And from what I understand, Brazil isn’t in any hurry to take him back.”

Helena buried her face in her hands. Sobs of relief racked her body, shaking her shoulders. Victor held her and rubbed her back while I stood there like an idiot, an uncomfortable witness to a private moment between siblings. I toed the dirt with my shoe.

Helena lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “How did you know to look for me here?”

“It was Thyme’s idea.”

They both turned toward me.

“We, um, well, we planned a fake funeral for you—to draw Gabriel out into the open. That was my idea, too. Anyway, Cate helped us and—

“Cate?
Cate
!”

“I know, right? Yes, Cate. She’s super-pissed at you for taking off, but she agreed to help us because Audra loves you so much,” I explained.

“Okay, so Cate helped you convince Gabriel I’m dead. How’d that lead you to me?”

“The Whittier-Clays came to the church. Even though Cate and her husband were in on it, I think they let Audra believe you were dead so she wouldn’t blow it. She saw a nun walk by and said that the veiled ladies at the playground would miss you. And it just got me thinking.”

She raised her hand to cover her mouth and let out a horrified gasp. “Audra thinks I’m dead?”

“I’m sure she told Audra the truth once Gabriel was in custody. Well, I
imagine
she did.” I glanced helplessly at Victor then confessed, “I don’t actually know.”

“Come on,” Helena said, tugging on her brother’s hand. “I have to talk to Audra. Now.”

I stepped back and held up my hand like a crossing guard stopping traffic. “You guys go on without me. Even after everything that happened, Cate’s still irritated with me for cancelling her session because Gabriel’s thugs were trying to kill us. I don’t want to be anywhere above Seventieth Street when she sees you.”

Uncertainty flashed across her face. “Someone tried to kill you?” She turned and inspected her brother. “Are you okay?”

He hurried to reassure her. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. Those guys have been arrested, too. I’ll get you all caught up.”

“You don’t think she’ll give me back my job?”

“She might. Like I said, Audra adores you, and, for all her tough guy posturing, Cate’s pretty much wrapped around that kid’s finger. But I’d rather go toe-to-toe with Gabriel than be there when you ask. So, best of luck. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

She grabbed me and pulled me into a quick, tight embrace. “I have no idea what you did, but it sounds like I owe you one. So thank you.”

I smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”

She released me.

Victor stepped close to me and took hold of my upper arms. “I want to stay with Helena and talk to her after she’s done with the Whittier-Clays, but I’d like to see you again.”

“I would hope so. You owe me dinner, remember?”

“Trust me. I wouldn’t forget.” His eyes burned into mine. I could tell he was about to kiss me, but I could feel his sister watching us. I shifted away from him.

“Great! See you soon!” I chirped and then took off at a jog across the playground.

I
walked
through the lobby of my building, unsteady on my feet in the shoes that Victor had bought. I wasn’t accustomed to such high, strappy heels. I hoped I wasn’t going to wobble all night. My neighbor, Mrs. Katzen, on her way home from her bridge club meeting at the neighborhood senior citizens’ center, gave an appreciative wolf whistle.

“You’re looking good, Thyme. Got yourself a hot date?” She asked in her thick New York accent.

My face turned beet red. “Something like that, Eleanor.”

“You go, girl,” she cackled as she shuffled over to the elevator.

I teetered toward the front of the lobby. As I neared the doors, Victor stepped through them, holding a bouquet of wildflowers with a white silk ribbon tied around the stems. He smiled at me.

“These are beautiful,” I said as he placed the flowers in my arms. I inhaled their fresh, delicate perfume.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find daisies, black-eyes Susans, and sweetpeas in Manhattan?” he said with a half-laugh.

“No,” I confessed. “But it can’t be any harder than walking in these ... things.” I gestured down toward my Loboutin-clad feet.

His gaze traveled down to the shoes. “Well, you look fantastic, but then you look fantastic in yoga pants and running shoes, so it may not be a matter of your footwear.”

I grinned at him and handed him the flowers. “Glad to hear you think so. Hold these for a minute.” I crouched and unstrapped the shoes, then eased out my protesting feet.

“Uh, I wouldn’t recommend walking barefoot through the city. Not even if you’re up to date on all your shots.”

I shook my head and reached inside my purse for my trusty, split-heel foldable ballet flats. “Ahhh,” I nearly purred as I slipped my feet into them.

Even though an elevator car had come and gone, Mrs. Katzen was loitering near the elevator bank, watching us with unabashed interest.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Victor.

I walked over to Mrs. Katzen, swinging the black heels in one hand. “You wouldn’t happen to wear a size eight shoe, would you, Eleanor?”

She eyed the shoes with what can only be described as lust.

“Honey, if you don’t want them, I’ll find a way to make them fit. Believe you me. Mr. Pomerantz will need someone to restart his pacemaker once he gets a load of me in those shoes.”

I pressed them into her hand. “Wear them in good health.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl and then nodded her head toward Victor. “And you wear
him
in good health, Thyme.”

I didn’t even know what that meant, but I felt my face growing hot again. I gave her a weak smile and headed back to Victor, who was watching the entire exchange with an amused expression.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready now. Let’s go get some Cuban food,” I said, taking back my flowers, and linking my arm through his.

“I’m not taking you to Cuba Libra,” he informed me as he pushed open the door to the street.

“You’re not? Where are we going?”

He looked down at me and winked. “You’ll see.”

“That’s not fair,” I protested. I stopped walking and stood on the sidewalk near the front of the building.

He cocked his head and considered me. I jutted my lip out into a pout for effect.

“Fine. I’ll ruin the surprise, but our sisters are going to have my hide—”

“Wait. Did you say
our
sisters
?”

He held up his fingers and ticked off names, “Helena, Sage, Rosemary. Then there’s Detective Dave, someone named Roman, Lynn, Mia. And the Whittier-Clays, of course.”

I shook my head. “You lost me.”

“Helena wanted to thank you.
I
wanted to thank you. And somehow the party just kept growing. So Cate Whittier-Clay offered to host a dinner in her penthouse. She had Maura track down your sisters and arranged to fly them in. Last I saw, your oldest sister was in the kitchen, trying to elbow the Whittier-Clays’ personal chef away from the stove. Sage and Helena were having a tea party with Audra and her bears, and your sisters’ boyfriends were trapped talking to Cate’s husband about derivatives.”

A laugh bubbled up from my chest. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He stepped close to me and encircled me with one arm, pressing me gently against the wall of my apartment building. He met my eyes with a smoldering look and whispered in a husky voice. “I hope so. Tonight, we’ll celebrate with family and friends. I can wait to have you to myself. We’ve got nothing but time, Thyme. All the time in the world.”

I tipped my head back and raised my chin. My lips found his.

All the time in the world.