Tidal Kin Page 13

  Laney knew better. Leverage. Aunt Norma used the word when she taught Laney to play Monopoly. “Know what your leverage is and never give it up.” She knew she wasn’t dealing with the Parker Brothers, but with two live criminals. She had to come up with something or they’d kill her mom. She was certain of it. “I’ll lead you to the letter. You can’t find it yourselves.”

  The harshness returned to Mr. Singh’s voice. “Varn, if you please. Our young guest needs encouragement.”

  The belt was raised again. Laney knew what she had to do and she had to get it right. Her expression, her tone, it all had to be right. She had also learned from Aunt Norma that the only way to bluff successfully was not to bluff at all. You had to mean what you said.

  She thought about her life, living with Gran and her new friendship with the most popular girl in her grade. She didn’t want to die. But she had to say she was willing to die and mean it. She imagined heaven and how it had been explained to her. Any death at Varn’s hand would be a mere flash compared to eternity. She could handle that. Did her face look like she meant it? She stared not at Varn, but at Mr. Singh. Did he see fear? The longer she stared at him, the less she feared him. Her hand reached for Varn’s belt, not because she thought it would be given to her, but to show herself that her hand did not shake.

  “Go ahead, Varn. But if you touch my mom or me again, I won’t tell anyone where the letter is. We’re as good as dead anyway. I’d rather keep the letter my secret if I’m going to die. Why give you the satisfaction?”

  Laney could hardly believe her eyes, yet it was true. Just as she had changed, something had changed in Mr. Singh.

  “Let’s go.” Mr. Singh headed for the door, then turned and shouted at Varn. “I said let’s go, moron.” Pointing at Gin he told Varn, “Get that bitch on her feet.” He seethed when he turned to Laney. “When we get outside, you open your mouth, you make a sound of any kind, you are dead and we move on.”

  30

  Norma knew slamming the office door was childish because she wasn’t even disgusted with Coigne. It was herself she was furious with for trusting the bastard to play fair.

  She and Anne drove in silence to Anne’s Prius. Norma wanted to gnaw on something said at the meeting that had perplexed her, but now, mad as she was, she couldn’t remember what it was. She hoped like hell it would come to her, because otherwise she’d hit a dead end.

  “This is a dead end, Norma. You’ve turned too soon. It’s just a new development here.”

  “That’s just what I need, a new development to avoid a dead end.” Norma turned the car around.

  “Norma?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to know how grateful I am you’re my friend. At least with you there’s some hope we’ll get her back.” Anne’s voice choked.

  “Now look. We’ll find her. I’m certain of it. Back there I was mad at Coigne, but he’s committed to finding her too. Don’t let my beating up on him worry you. That’s how I process, you know? Letting off steam.” Norma let the words sink in and pulled in behind Anne’s car. “Where the hell is Gin, anyway? I hope her excuse for her absence is that she’s busy doing the homework assignment I gave her.”

  Anne chuckled softly. “I hope so too, although she’s never done a lick of homework in her life.”

  As Anne opened the car door Norma said, “Wait a sec. I’ve got to get into Gin’s room at Red River Resort. Any ideas?”

  “Why? What are you looking for?”

  “I’m not sure. Gin was to share with me everything Crawford ever gave her—notes, gifts, etc.”

  “Naturally she hasn’t followed through. Not even the kidnapping of her own daughter—”

  “Don’t start, Anne.”

  “You’re right. You’re right.” Anne rifled through her purse for tissue and blew her nose. “I think I need to lie down. I haven’t slept the three days she’s been gone.” She rummaged for her cell phone. “Anyway, I have an idea about how you can get into Gin’s room.” She explained her idea while she did a quick Internet search for a number and dialed. “I had quite a conversation with the resort front desk when I was looking for Laney in the ladies room the other day. They may remember me and that I was with Gin and Ken Crawford, especially since that was the day he was killed. Give me a second.”

  She was able to connect with the same hotel clerk and make arrangements for Norma to “come by and pick up a few things,” as Gin would now be staying at home with her.

  “Well, that doesn’t say much for hotel staff security training. You could have been anyone.”

  “This is the Cape, Norma.”

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything important.”

  “Just find Laney. Please.”

  Gin’s hotel room was huge and in light of the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside doorknob, its condition was much as Norma had pictured. The bed was unmade and Gin’s tropical colored shoes, bras and panties dotted the furniture like decorative accents. Room service trays littered every surface. Despite the fact the bathroom was the size of a garage, Gin’s make-up, toothpaste, lotions, pills and hair products managed to make it feel cluttered and cramped.

  Norma pawed through the debris. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she was working on the premise that just because Crawford was dead didn’t mean Gin was no longer interested in snatching Laney’s inheritance out from under her. If Gin was still keen, how she went about pursuing that inheritance could give clues to Laney’s kidnapping. It was a long shot, but all she had.

  Near the bedside telephone, amidst mermaid’s toenails, tiny saltwater clam shells, and a half-full glass of wine, she found a note. “Fs Peer-E.N.”

  “Hm. Fish Pier-E.N. Wait a minute. East Nauset. East Nauset Fish Pier.” The note could be old and meaningless, but something told her Gin hadn’t jotted it down to get a jump on cheap dogfish.

  She felt her adrenaline surge as she hit the elevator button five times. When she got outside she phoned Coigne. She still hated his guts, but didn’t want to confront kidnappers without some back-up. “Coigne, don’t say anything about earlier today. I think I know where Laney was taken.”

  “Fish Pier.”

  There was a long pause. “As a matter of fact, yes. How do you know, or is this something else you’ve been hiding?”

  “Look. Before anything else, we need to get that misunderstanding straightened out. I learned about the Gold Flake pack last evening after I dropped you off and told you about it in my office this morning. And yes, I had a suspicion that Singh was involved in Laney’s kidnapping because of something you said about Ken Crawford having foreign investment partners in the Red River Resort.”

  “Okay, okay—”

  “Quiet ‘til I’m finished. I was able to get a list of partners and recognized one of Singh’s old aliases. His photo was not inconsistent with Laney’s description of Sandal Man. We’ve always felt that the Crawford murder was tied to Laney’s disappearance. But how I arrived at these theories and suspicions is irrelevant. Norma, you are not a state trooper, even though you’ve been enormously helpful and I want your help to continue, but I have to maintain boundaries.”

  “You done?”

  “Yes.”

  “I accept your apology. Now tell me how you know about the Fish Pier.”

  He sighed. “Fine. You know the supply shack down there. The owner fell asleep last night at the back of his shop. When he wakes up this morning he sees two guys by the water. Definitely not fishermen. He calls us. Anything suspicious, we’re treating it like it may involve Laney. Trooper Katepoo went down to take a look right after our meeting this morning.”

  “Well, is she there?”

  “No.”

  “So how do you know it wasn’t some teenagers down there on a summer lark?” Of course she knew it wasn’t, based on Gin’s note, but she was hoping for a few more crumbs while he was in a talking mood.

  “First of all, Red River Resort keeps a boat down at the pier, which w
e’d already searched early on but found nothing. Boat’s still there by the way. But it means someone from the resort, like Singh, might be familiar with the pier. Second, we found blood, not much, in a storage room beneath the pier. Forensics is looking at hair strands that may be Laney’s. So there’s nothing definite yet, just working theories.”

  Norma thought, why bring Laney to the pier if not to take her somewhere by boat? But the boat was still docked and Laney was gone. Did something spook them? She voiced the question.

  “Beats me,” Coigne said. “Maybe they saw the supply shack owner and took off. “

  Norma filled him in on her search of Gin’s hotel room and the note. She signed off saying, “I’ll meet you at the pier.”

  On her way, she thought about Coigne’s explanation and acknowledged he might not be as guilty of hoarding information as she’d thought, but that didn’t explain why Anne had not called her right away about the cigarette pack. Was she being presumptuous to think she had first dibs on everyone’s information? The more she thought it over, the more she realized to her horror she was placing her desire to be kept abreast of everything before Laney’s need to be rescued. Yet she honestly believed she was in the best position to put all the pieces of the puzzle together and find Laney, if she had the benefit of everyone’s information. It wasn’t pride, but confidence. She wouldn’t let anyone, Coigne, the governor, the POTUS, anyone, keep her from getting information.

  Yellow crime-scene tape across the pier’s parking lot entrance failed to slow Norma down. “He couldn’t tell someone I was coming?” She waved to Trooper Katepoo and drove through the tape.

  He ran after her and made her park and get out, apologizing but explaining, “I’ve got to get instructions from the Lieutenant.” He pulled out his phone.

  Under other circumstances, halyards clanging softly in the warm breeze might have had a soothing effect on Norma, but now they marked time ticking away. She grabbed his phone and said, “I just got off the phone with Lieutenant Coigne. He’ll be mad as hell that you delayed me. Go get some footies for me from those forensics guys before I trample on something important.” She returned his phone. “Go!” She shoved past him, hoping her threatened destruction of a crime scene would get him moving.

  Treading carefully, with only the flashlight from her phone to guide her, she arrived at a small room. The door was open, but the doorway was cordoned off by yellow tape. The overwhelming smell of fish almost discouraged her from lingering until her attention was drawn to a narrow shaft of light that lasered down from a high window to the dirt floor. There, it encircled a shiny object, but how to reach it? “Oh hell.” She ducked under the tape, tiptoed to the object, wrapped her fingers in a corner of her blouse, and pulled on a piece of silver the size of a match head. With gentle tugging, a two-inch silver shark was freed from its burial in the dirt.

  She drew in her breath. “Gin’s necklace.” She’d seen Gin put it on after her unplanned shower. Had Gin been here with Laney? Was it left here on purpose for us to find? The twisted and broken eyehole gave her no clue. Norma carefully searched around the area with her phone flashlight. Other than a spider and what looked like mouse turds, she came up empty.

  The shark charm had to be a deliberate plant. Laney had already shown her cleverness in leaving physical clues behind. Those clues seemed to hold no secondary meaning, just to say “I was here.” But if the shark simply confirmed that she and her mother had been held captive in that room, why take the necklace chain, unless the shark itself was the point? Immediately she saw the weakness in her logic. The chain might have been noticed by Rahul Singh if left with the shark. Still, she wanted to believe the shark was the clue because she had an idea what it might mean.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Bergen—”

  “Katepoo. You found the footies. Hold onto them. Call your boss. Tell him to meet me at the park in Cockle Cove. Tell him I found something and to hurry.” She showed him the shark as she brushed past him.

  “But you can’t remove evidence. Hey wait!”

  “And for God’s sake don’t leave your post. Coigne’ll kill you.”

  31

  “It was a good guess, Norma.” Coigne started his engine with Norma sulking in the passenger seat.

  “Nothing’s good about a guess that doesn’t lead anywhere.”

  “Much as I sympathize, you couldn’t be more wrong. We’ve eliminated the possibility that the shark charm was intended to direct us to her next location. So we consider other possibilities.”

  “It eliminates nothing of the sort. The sharks display was just one of a multitude of locations the shark charm might lead us to.”

  “Fine. So we’ve eliminated one location. Let’s think of others.”

  Norma despised these glass-as-half-full types. Sometimes facts were ugly and you needed to face them head-on. Yet even in her crushing disappointment about not finding any sign of Laney at the park in downtown Cockle Cove, she knew Coigne was trying to encourage her. She appreciated it.

  “Norma, I have a proposal. Let’s do our thinking while we get something to eat. How about Captain’s Quarters?

  “Are you out of your mind? How can you think about eating when Laney is still missing?”

  “I’ll tell you how.” Coigne was executing a flawless three-point turn. “I’m an experienced cop, and I know we need to eat if we’re in this search for the long haul. It’s been three days and these guys holding Laney are getting sloppy, and that’s good. And by the way, no one said you have to eat. Just sit there while I figure out the most efficient deployment of my scarce resources so I can eliminate a few more of the multitude of locations. Okay?”

  “All right. What’s with the attitude?”

  As they pulled into the Captain’s Quarters parking lot, Coigne explained the tavern was family-owned, and, like its owners, unassuming. It was so unassuming it had no exterior signage to announce it was anything other than what it looked like, a large gray shed.

  All heads turned and conversations ceased as they entered the small bar, and Coigne led Norma toward the dining area. Her eyes needed to adjust to the dim lighting. She almost tumbled over a shaggy dog the size of a love seat. The décor was simple—lanterns, anchors, netting, and a large, backlit aquarium filled with exotic fish.

  “What’s that, Coigne?” Norma asked, pointing at the fish. “Menu options?”

  “Good evening.” They were greeted with a big smile. “Booth or table?”

  Norma eyed the name tag of the hostess, a cute teenager with round brown eyes and bangs, weighing all of ninety-eight pounds. “Miranda, I’ve always wanted to know. Does anyone ever prefer a table over a booth, in your experience?”

  The girl said, “You’d be surprised, ma’am. Some people don’t want the booth because they don’t like their knees touching the other person’s under the table.”

  “We’ll take a booth,” Norma said, then blushed as she realized Coigne would think she wanted to knock his knees. She snapped at Miranda, “We’re just having pizza. Make it a large, with everything.”

  “Two Cokes, Miranda. And please say hello to your dad. Hope your mom’s doing the cooking and not him.”

  “You got that right.”

  Over their drinks they examined the shark charm again. “What does it tell you, Norma?”

  “For one thing, it’s proof positive your staff sucks. Why was I the one to find it? Katepoo and his buddies were milling around long before I arrived.”

  He took the charm from her and held it close to the small lantern on the table. “I take it you found this somewhere Jimmy Katepoo should have?”

  “I don’t know who had searched the room, but someone had. It was taped off. They should have spotted it. I’d say that’s sloppy, and when there’s time we can talk about how there must be some basis other than intelligence and experience on which hiring decisions get made in your shop, but for now—”

  “Do you think maybe the room was cordoned off because Katepoo had alre
ady found the shark and left it in place for me to see?”

  “Do you?” Norma had to admit that thought hadn’t occurred to her until now.

  “Sometimes, Norma, a little reflection prevents reaching wrong conclusions about people.”

  “Not often.”

  “I’ll start.” Norma kept chewing while she recited. “Shark-park. We’ve already looked into the park possibility. “Dark-lark-bark.”

  “Bark.” Coigne sounded hopeful. “Do you think the shark was a reference to your dog Barclay? You called him Bark, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but that’s too far-fetched.

  “No pun intended. This is good. Let’s keep going.”

  “And stop being a cheerleader. It’s insidious.”

  “It’s funny you say cheerleader, because I had an idea before we tried your phonetic/word association approach.” Coigne finished his soda and set his glass down. “Isabella Miller, Laney’s friend. She and Laney were playing a similar kind of rhyme game at the Postal I Scream place. Maybe the charm will mean something to her.”

  Norma was skeptical. Laney and Isabella hadn’t been close friends. So far as she knew, they’d only gotten together once, the day Laney disappeared. Besides, the charm belonged to Gin. How could they have a common point of reference about Laney’s mother’s shark charm? Still, another trip to the Miller house wouldn’t take long and it wasn’t as though they had a long list of promising options.

  Mr. Miller barely acknowledged their presence when he answered the door. His wrinkled dress shirt was unbuttoned and his undershirt in desperate need of bleach. Norma thought by comparison she looked pressed and tailored. His eyes were bloodshot and his face chalky, as though he’d been locked in a closet since their last visit. He said, “I can’t imagine what more we can tell you. You’re going in circles and frankly I don’t have time for it.”

  Norma hated when people said “frankly” because the word always preceded a lie. Why didn’t they just tell the lie?