Table For Five

As she carried the baby to the bathroom, Lily buried her concern behind a smile. She chattered cheerfully away as she ran a shallow bath and peeled off Ashley’s clothes and diaper. The bathroom was cluttered with brightly colored plastic toys and bottles of shampoo and bubble bath, combs and toothbrushes, barrettes and mismatched towels.

Crystal always made this look so easy, Lily reflected, trying to keep hold of the squirming child while opening a bottle of baby shampoo. Lily couldn’t abide the thought of letting go of Ashley or looking away for a single second, so she opened the cap with her teeth. The taste of baby shampoo filled her mouth.

“Ptooey,” she said, wiping her mouth on her shoulder.

Ashley laughed at her and splashed her hands on the surface of the water.

And to think the evening had started out with Italy, wine and Kevin Costner in his prime, thought Lily. Now, with every moment that passed, her conviction that her best friend was missing tightened in her chest.

Missing. There could be no other explanation. Something was terribly wrong.

chapter 9

Friday

9:00 p.m.

Sean stood in the kitchen and contemplated the empty pizza boxes. Nearly empty. He picked up the last piece of hamburger-black olive and stuffed it in his mouth. Whoever heard of hamburger-black olive? That had been Charlie’s suggestion. It wasn’t half bad, he thought, wiping his hand on his pants.

Upstairs, it was quiet at last. Lily Robinson had taken charge. The baby was asleep, and Lily and Charlie were reading a book together in Charlie’s bed.

Miss Lily Robinson to the rescue. She was not the heavyset, blue-haired schoolmarm he’d expected. She just had the personality of one. Still, Sean was grateful that she’d come to help out.

Cameron was back on the Internet, probably surfing for porn even though Sean had warned him not to. Sean had come downstairs to dispose of the broken lamp and clean up the kitchen.

Pizza boxes had been designed, he decided, by someone who had never taken out the trash. There was no way to fit one into a receptacle. He set it on the floor, stepped on it and then folded it in half once, twice, then crammed the cardboard into the kitchen trash can, shoving it down with his foot. He repeated the process for the second box, then the third.

When Lily walked into the kitchen, Sean had one foot in the trash can and his mouth full of pizza. She eyed him as though he were one of the kids in her schoolroom, not with dislike or disapproval, but with a kind of bemused tolerance that made him want to misbehave.

This was the gift of a schoolmarm, he thought. With one look, she could make a grown man feel an inch tall.

He managed to swallow the last of the pizza and extract his foot with a tug, hopping backward and grabbing a chair to keep from falling.

“Hey,” he said, acting casual, crossing his foot at the ankle. “The kids in bed?”

“The girls are. Charlie just fell asleep. Cameron’s doing homework.”

“I’m calling the police again,” Sean said.

“I think you should.” Her face was pale, and she kept worrying a silver-and-turquoise ring around her finger.

She wasn’t bad-looking behind those thick glasses, Sean reflected as he picked up the phone. For a marm.

He hit Redial and got the now-familiar recorded menu of options, pressing three before the falsely soothing canned voice finished the instructions.

“This is Officer Brad Henley.”

“I’m calling for Officer…” Sean consulted the name he’d jotted down. Unable to find a piece of paper, he’d written it in ballpoint pen on the palm of his hand. Lily said nothing but frowned at the hand.

“Nordquist,” Sean said.

“Gone for the day,” Henley said in a bored voice.

Great, they’d changed shifts.

“This is in regard to a matter I called about earlier,” Sean said. “My name is Sean Maguire.”

“Uh-huh. What can I do for you?”

“I called about my brother, Derek Holloway, and his ex-wife, Crystal.” Sean listened to the silence for a few seconds.

“Yeah, okay. I see it in the call log here. What can I do for you, Mr. Maguire?”

Find them, he wanted to scream into the phone. Find them and bring them home so I can get back to my life. My sorry-ass life. Which, if things go okay at the tournament next week, I might just have a shot at getting back on track.

“I still don’t know where they are. There’s been no word of them.” Sean glanced over at Lily, who watched him with a furrow of worry on her brow. The conversation felt slightly surreal as he said, “My brother’s missing and so is his ex. You ought to be out searching for them.”

Another pause. Sean could hear the tap of a keyboard. “Do either of them have any type of medical problem or impairment that—”

“I answered all this before,” Sean said, fighting to keep his voice down. “They’re both in perfect health, sound of mind and body. Which is why it’s completely unlike them to disappear.”

“Sir, at this time, it’s not an emergent situation and we can’t give it airtime or attempt to locate missing adults.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re never missing,” the cop said wryly. “I’ll put the info out on the city channel for now.”

“What’s that?”

“Dispatchers’ network.”

“There are three children involved,” Sean reminded him. “Do you have that in your notes?”

“Are they in any danger?” the cop asked.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Then I can’t—” There was a pause on the line. “Is your brother Derek Holloway, the golfer?”

Celebrity had its perks, Sean thought. “The very same.”

“Well, we can’t do an attempt-to-locate at this time, but I’ll send someone out,” said Henley. “What’s the address?”

Sean looked up at Lily. “Address?” he mouthed.

She handed him an envelope from the pile of mail on the table.

Good thinking. At least one of them could still think. He read the address into the phone.