Bounty Hunter Ransom

“Well, I flunked.” Erin turned back to Aubrey. “Remember me?”

“Two years ago,” Aubrey said as the memory came to her. “You sat in the back row and slept.”

Erin smiled broadly. “You do remember. What are you doing hanging out with this guy?” She nudged Beau with her foot.

Beau slid his arm around Aubrey. “What, I’m not allowed to have a respectable girlfriend?”

“Nuh-uh,” Jodie said. “I’m your girlfriend, forever and ever. You promised.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Aubrey objected, but in the face of all that overt sex appeal being directed at Beau, she almost wished she could put a claim on him. The feel of his arm around her waist was warm and secure, causing an unwelcome shiver to wiggle up her spine in spite of the afternoon heat.

“Hey, we’re just kidding around,” Erin said, apparently sensing Aubrey’s unease. But Beau kept his arm where it was. Maybe it was a gesture of protection, a sign to these girls that they weren’t supposed to mess with her.

“Hey, Beau, did I hear you were looking for Shelley?” Jodie asked.

Beau shrugged. “Yeah, I was,” he said with seeming disinterest. But the tension suddenly radiating out of his arm and hand was palpable.

“What’s it worth to you?”

“The usual.”

“How about double the usual?”

“How about I tell your brother you’re turning tricks on Chestnut Street?”

“Beau! Okay. Twenty now, and fifty if my tip is good.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He shook her hand, and Jodie adjusted the strap of her tank top. Aubrey realized the transaction had already taken place.

“She’s staying at her aunt’s house, in that new subdivision on Monument Hill. It’s a redbrick house with a broken mailbox.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“I know you will.”

Beau started to lead Aubrey away, but she hesitated. She looked at Erin, who couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Don’t say it, Dr. Schuyler,” she mumbled. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

When they were a block away, Aubrey finally spoke. “That is so sad. We should be doing something to help them, instead of paying them for tips.”

“Erin’s been dragged off to rehab twice. We can’t force her to change.”

“Like Patti, I guess,” Aubrey said on a sigh. “She didn’t want to change until Sara came along.”

They stopped at a corner for a light, and Aubrey felt light-headed all the sudden. She reached out for a lamppost to steady herself.

Beau looked at her with concern. “When was the last time you ate?”

She had to think about it. She’d eaten a bagel for breakfast, a lifetime ago, and she’d thrown up since then. No wonder she was cranky. “I’m not sure I could eat anything.”

“Sure you can.” He steered her into a pancake house a couple of blocks from the agency. “You can’t do this kind of work without fuel for your brain, not to mention your body.” He nodded to the hostess, then guided Aubrey to a booth in the back. A wispy-haired waitress appeared.

“Your usual, Beau?” She cocked her hip to one side and blushed furiously.

“Yeah. You want a menu, Aubrey?”

“No. Just some wheat toast and hot tea.”

The waitress disappeared, then returned with coffee for Beau and Aubrey’s tea.

“I’m gonna run down to the agency and check on a few things,” Beau said. “I’ll be back before the food gets here. Meanwhile, I want you to get on your cell phone and call everyone you can think of who knows Patti—friends, relatives, co-workers, neighbors, former lovers, anybody. See if you can get a lead on where she might be hiding out, or who she owed money to.” He slid out of the booth and disappeared, seemingly confident Aubrey would obey orders.

With a sigh she got out her cell phone and a small address book she kept in her purse. She knew hardly any of Patti’s friends. Though they’d lived together for more than a year—since Charlie Soffit had kicked Patti out of his mobile home—Aubrey knew very little of Patti’s life. But she had Charlie’s phone number. That was a start. And the number at the insurance agency where Patti worked.

First, though, she wanted to call her uncle Wayne. Since Patti had gone to his law firm for the will, he might know something. Besides, she hadn’t talked to that branch of the family in months. Since her parents had retired to Padre, her uncle and cousin David were the only family she had left in town, other than Patti and Sara. Yet she hardly ever talked to them. She’d once been pretty close to David, who was her own age. Back when they were kids, she and David had been the “good kids,” the scaredy-cats who’d tried to keep the others—Gavin, Beau and Patti—from getting into trouble. Now, though, they didn’t have much in common. He’d gone to William and Mary, then law school. They moved in different circles.

She dialed Uncle Wayne’s home number. This time of the afternoon, he would probably be there. He was semiretired from the firm now, only rarely visiting the office.

She was surprised when David answered the phone.

“Aubrey. How in the hell are you?”

“I’m…okay,” she said guardedly, not wanting to blurt out that she’d been assaulted, her home had been burglarized, and that his sister and niece were missing. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“God knows I should be. But…” His voice trailed off. He sounded troubled.

“What is it, David?”

“I probably should have called you. Dad’s not doing too well. He has cancer.”

“Oh, my God, that’s awful! Is he…I mean, lots of people survive….”

“Not this time. It’s all over his body. They’re not even sure where it started. They caught it way too late to do anything. He’s got a couple of months at most.”

Aubrey took a sip of her tea, trying to absorb the terrible news. “You should have let me know.”

“He didn’t want me to. He didn’t want everyone to worry about him. You know how he is.”

“It’s my fault, too. I should have kept in better touch. I mean, a card and a canister of cookies at Christmas…”

“Well, it’s been awkward, with Patti living with you.”

This was true. Patti had a way of putting tension on the whole family, making Aubrey feel like a traitor if she got too friendly with the enemy.

“Could I talk to Uncle Wayne?”

“Um, not right now. He’s sedated. That’s why I’m not at work. He’s having a really bad day. When he’s like this, I don’t feel right just leaving him with the nurse and the housekeeper. In fact, I’ve moved back here to care for him.”