Ardmore Green Read online

  “Italian fried peppers,” said Zeke. “Yum.”

  Oscar was Italian looking, with dark hair and continental features. He wore his hair in a short, neat cut, and his nose and ears were his prominent features. His eyes were still dark and brooding, expressing the passion that Oscar brought to everything he did. He was wearing khaki pants and a new golf shirt. Ironic, as always, thought Zeke.

  “Great to see you again, Oscar,” Zeke said as he sat. “Nice neighborhood. Is this the Larosa family place?”

  “It is,” said Oscar. “My dad moved us here when I was younger. Before the army and Afghanistan.”

  “And Susie goes to school nearby? The papers you gave me said Brecknock.”

  “Yes, Brecknock School. It’s a prep school, grades K through 12, just a couple of miles that way.” Oscar pointed northwest. His gestures and his voice were patient but resigned.

  Turning to the matter at hand, Zeke said, “What do I need to know about Susie, about this whole thing? What’s not in the papers you gave me, Oscar?”

  “Not much,” said Oscar, “nothing concrete. But I don’t buy that she was kidnapped or just disappeared. I know that George and Carol have a lot on their plate, but they’ve always been good parents and always kept track of my niece.”

  “George said he thought initially that she was with friends.”

  “I know, but it didn’t ring true to me,” said Oscar. “Not for that long, what, three days?”

  “Alternative theory?” asked Zeke.

  “Could be she ran away, I guess, but I doubt it,” said Oscar.

  “What if George needed money for his medical care? Could he have borrowed from someone he used to work for? Could that have caused him the trouble?” It was the kindest way Zeke could think to phrase the question to his friend. Oscar was fanatically loyal when it came to family.

  “Not at the risk of losing his daughter,” said Oscar. “We all love her like she’s the baby of the family. You know, ‘It takes a village’.”

  “Other than being angry about the cancer, was she withdrawn? Acting odd? Any problems at school? With boys? With drugs?”

  “I don’t know of any,” said Oscar. “But you should visit with her mom and chat with her,” he said. “And Zeke,” he paused, “catch Carol alone.”

  * * *

  “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” said Zeke. He had driven directly from Oscar’s house to the Loppers, and was sitting on a couch across from Carol Lopper. Her eyes were rimmed with red from a lack of sleep and constant crying. She was crying quietly now. A tissue box sat beside her on the chair.

  “There’s nothing more important...” said Carol.

  “I know. I need some more information to track her down,” said Zeke. He smiled as he watched her face.

  “OK,” she said, with uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Was Susie seeing anybody? A boy?”

  “She’s fourteen. She’s a good girl. We watch her pretty carefully, on account of she’s started filling in, you know, growing up. Same thing happened with me, and it could have gone bad, but it didn’t,” said Carol. “I was lucky.”

  “So, no boyfriend?”

  “No, nothing like that,” said Carol. “She’s a good girl. She never gets in trouble.”

  “Her best friend is...?” asked Zeke.

  “Carrie, Carrie Mac. For McCarthy,” she said.

  “Does she live nearby?” Zeke asked, creating some rhythm in his questions, an old habit.

  “Yeah, a couple blocks closer to the school,” said Carol. “They’ve been friends since Kindergarten.”

  “What about school activities?” asked Zeke, shifting the topic abruptly.

  “A few. She was on the dance team, and she made Honor Society this year. I knew because they called and left a message. A few days before school let out, they had an awards assembly. We couldn’t go because George had a doctor’s appointment.” Carol teared up again.

  “Do you know of any problems she had at school this year?” asked Zeke. “With a teacher, maybe, or with a student?”

  “No, she was a good girl,” said Carol. “She isn’t like some girls. She doesn’t get in trouble.” She thought a moment. “Susie hangs around with an older group of juniors and seniors who do things together. Carrie and Gina and Seth and Susie and some others.”

  “No romantic relationship?” asked Zeke. “Going steady?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Tell me something that struck you as odd about her, something recent,” said Zeke.

  Carol focused for a second, thinking, and said, “Oh.”

  “Something odd?” prompted Zeke, giving Carol a moment to reflect.

  “Well, the tattoo,” she said. “She came home a couple weeks ago and asked me to let her get a tattoo.”

  Chapter 4

  “This is all pretty serious,” said Zeke.

  Carrie McCarthy shifted in her chair and looked at Zeke with wide, unblinking eyes, her upper body stiff, almost rigid, awaiting his questions.

  A practiced liar, he thought immediately, and probably a pretty good one.

  They were sitting at the McCarthy family’s kitchen table, Zeke and Carrie adjacent and looking at each other across one corner of the wooden table. Their chairs were angled, facing each other. Mrs. McCarthy sat at the table across from her daughter.

  Zeke’s experience in counterintelligence gave him an objective perspective of the questioning process. His almost eidetic memory complemented that perspective, and Zeke could easily compile data, real time, in most any situation.

  “What’s been going on with Susie lately?” asked Zeke. Open ended question, he thought, can lead anywhere.

  “What do you mean?” asked Carrie. Her voice was sort of valley-girl whiny.

  “Well, she’s missing,” said Zeke.

  “But that’s a kidnapping, right?” asked Carrie. Her mother was nodding across the table, confirming.

  “When did you last see her?” asked Zeke.

  Carrie was sipping a Coke. She set it on the table and moved it over so it was positioned between herself and Zeke. Blocking, he thought. She’s about to lie.

  “We already told the police, it was the last day of school,” she said. “We saw each other in the school parking lot.”

  “Was anyone else there?” asked Zeke.

  “There were kids everywhere, mostly leaving in cars or on buses.”

  Carrie was a thin girl with pale white skin and thin blonde hair cut above her shoulders. She was dressed in a green and white summer shirt with pleats in the front and beige short-shorts. Zeke sensed that she was not eager to talk with him.

  “Was Susie with anyone else?”

  “Then?” she said.

  Avoidance, he thought. Avoid lying by refining the question.

  “Yes, right then,” said Zeke. He waited.

  “Don’t think so,” said Carrie. “Just Gina and me.”

  “Gina is...?”

  “Gina Samone. She’s in our grade. Lives two houses down from me.” Carrie looked at her mother.

  “OK, so then what happened?”

  “We were going to walk home together, but Carrie said she had to go back in the school and get something she’d left in her locker.”

  “Do you remember what that was?” asked Zeke.

  Carrie’s upper body stiffened slightly again. “No, sorry, she was always leaving stuff around. It wasn’t unusual.”

  She wants me to think that she’s helping, being agreeable, thought Zeke.

  “So you went home without her?” asked Zeke. “You and Gina?”

  “Gina said we’d wait, but Susie said to go ahead.” She looked at her mother.

  Trying to gauge her mother’s belief level, thought Zeke. She’s looking for credibility, and maybe protection.

  “Was that the last time you saw her?” Zeke asked the girl.

  She looked right into Zeke’s eyes. “Yes, the last time.”

  “Have you hear
d from her by phone or text or anything since then?” Zeke asked.

  “No, that was it. I was surprised she didn’t call me over the weekend, actually. We usually talk.”

  “Did you try to call her?” Zeke asked. “Or text, or message?”

  “Over the weekend?” asked Carrie.

  “Anytime since school let out,” said Zeke. She did it again.

  “Well, yeah, I sent her a couple of texts but I figured she was busy or something. Or sleeping.”

  “Did she sleep a lot?” asked Zeke.

  “She’s a teenager,” said Carrie, sort of rolling her eyes. “We stay up all night and sleep ‘til after lunchtime.”

  “But you never connected with her. Since the end of school,” said Zeke.

  “Yes. Wasn’t she supposed to have been kidnapped that day? That’s what the policeman said, the one who questioned me before.” She fidgeted, twisted in her seat a bit.

  “We’re trying to confirm that,” said Zeke.

  The room was a large dining room with a table and eight chairs, and an antique buffet against one wall displaying mismatched china and knickknacks. The buffet didn’t match the other furniture in the room, and Zeke assumed it was a family heirloom. The dining room had hardwood floors with an area rug centered under the table and framed family photos on one wall. Carrie had moved around in her seat and now her feet pointed toward the kitchen door.

  “Do you need anything else? Any more questions? My friend’s missing, you know. Why aren’t you looking for her?” asked Carrie, a bit defiantly. She glanced at her mother as she said it.

  “Just a few,” said Zeke. “Did Susie have a boyfriend?”

  Carrie sipped her Coke, slid the can around in front of her on the table, again leaving it squarely between herself and Zeke. “Uh, no,” she said. “I mean, she had some guy friends, but nothing serious.”

  “Did she have a steady? A favorite?”

  “What?” asked Carrie.

  “Did she have a boy that she was seeing exclusively?”

  Mrs. McCarthy cleared her throat. “Do you think we can wrap this up, uh, Mr. Traynor?” she said, holding his business card and looking for his name. “I don’t think Carrie knows anything else.”

  Oh, I think she does, thought Zeke. But she’s fourteen and she shades the truth.

  “Sure, Mrs. McCarthy. Carrie, are you an honest person?”

  “Well, yeah, sure,” she said, fidgeting a bit.

  “OK, tell me the truth. Is there a steady boyfriend?”

  “You mean Susie?”

  “No, you, dear. Do you have a steady boyfriend?”

  “Umm, no, not really,” she said, surprised by the personal question.

  “Mr. Traynor, I think you’re overstepping...” Mrs. McCarthy started.

  “What about Seth?” asked Zeke. “Seth Gordon.”

  “Uh, well, we just hang around some, you know,” Carrie said. “It’s not a serious relationship.”

  “Would you say that a boy’s name tattooed on your butt was a sign of a serious relationship?” Zeke asked. He smiled patiently, without mirth.

  “Tattoo!” exclaimed Mrs. McCarthy. “Who has a tattoo?”

  “I spoke with Carol Lopper before I stopped by to visit with you,” said Zeke, now speaking to Mrs. McCarthy. “Then I went by the tattoo parlor to confirm. It seems that Carrie and Susie got new tattoos together last weekend. On their backsides. Carrie has one that reads, ‘Seth Gordon forever,’ and Susie, wherever she is, has one that reads...’I love Will Burns’.”

  Chapter 5

  Carrie had left the room in tears, playing the misunderstood child, and her mother had followed her to the bedroom.

  Mrs. McCarthy reappeared a few minutes later and sat down at the table. She was distracted and obviously upset.

  “You didn’t know about it?” asked Zeke.

  “No, of course not,” said Mrs. McCarthy.

  “What’s your first name?” he asked.

  “It’s Beth,” she said automatically.

  “Call me Zeke, Beth. Did you see it?”

  She looked at Zeke and then looked away. “Yes, she just showed it to me,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I’m sure you don’t want to hear this,” Zeke continued, “but she wasn’t exactly telling us the truth just now.” The “us” was to put them together on the same side of the issue.

  Beth looked up and stared at him. For a moment, she looked as if she was going to deny it, to argue, but then she said, “Why do you say that?”

  Zeke looked around the room. They were surrounded with reminders of sweet memories and good times. Happy photos, antique china most likely handed down, a dining room table that the family had probably gathered around to celebrate holidays. And there were handmade placemats and small decorations in the middle of the table, ceramic or metal, probably made by children. This has got to hurt, he thought.

  “I was with Military Intelligence for years, Beth. Counterintelligence. I’ve been trained to spot lies and deceit and I have a lot of experience doing it.” Don’t say anything disturbing or alarming, he thought.

  “We’re talking about my daughter here, not some terrorist,” she started, her anger rising again.

  “Exactly right,” said Zeke. “Look at some of the small signs, Beth. Just think with me for a minute.”

  Beth looked upset but didn’t say anything more.

  “We should talk about the facts, first,” he said, trying to move the conversation away from opinion and emotions. “The girls got their tattoos Saturday. But Carrie mentioned that she hadn’t seen Susie since Friday afternoon, after school.”

  “She could have been avoiding a discussion about the tattoos...” said Beth.

  “OK,” said Zeke. “No accusations, Beth. But think with me some more. Did you notice when Carrie moved the Coke can over in front of her and between us when I asked her when she last saw Susie?”

  “Yes,” said Beth with a question in her eyes.

  “And also when I asked her about Susie’s boyfriend?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, yes...”

  “That’s a classic sign of untruth, putting an object between the questioner and the person being questioned. She felt uncomfortable and wanted something between us, some protection to block my questions.”

  “Maybe...”

  “And when I asked her what Susie had left in the school that caused her to go back inside, Carrie’s upper body stiffened, and she started looking me in the eyes. Both of those are signs of wanting to be believed.”

  “But not necessarily lying...” said Beth.

  “Did you notice that by the end of the interview she was sitting sideways with her feet pointed at the door? That was Carrie wanting to escape from the situation, from the questions.”

  “Yes, but she’s a teenage girl, for goodness sake. They don’t stay still...”

  “Sure, yes, I agree,” said Zeke. “Some of that isn’t factual. OK, Carrie said that she sent a couple of texts to Susie. Did she?”

  “I don’t know,” said Beth.

  “Can we check?”

  “Yes, I suppose we can,” said Beth, and she got up. When she returned, she had a pink smartphone in her hand.

  “There are texts to Susie here from last week,” said Beth, “but nothing since Friday afternoon. The last one says, ‘Meet me in the school parking lot tomorrow AM. I can’t believe we’re going to do it!’”

  Chapter 6

  “Do you want a coffee or something, Zeke?” asked Oscar. They were seated in his kitchen, at the round table, Zeke on a cushioned chair and Oscar in his wheelchair. The kitchen was spotless, the sink empty and the counters cleared. The small window over the sink sparkled in the afternoon sun.

  “No, I’m good,” said Zeke, “thanks.”

  “You want to stay here tonight?” asked Oscar in his flat, matter-of-fact voice.

  “No, I’m booked at a hotel up in Radnor,” said Zeke. “I may work late on this, and I want to get an earl
y start tomorrow. We need to find Susie quickly.”

  “I know. Carol and George are going crazy,” said Oscar. “I wish there was something I could do. But, without legs...” He let the sentence fade and die.

  “I stopped by for a minute to let you know what I’m finding,” said Zeke. “And maybe you can connect some dots for me.”

  “OK,” said Oscar. He rolled his chair across the room to a small desk and took a pad and pen from the top drawer. He then returned to the table with Zeke. “I think better when I make notes,” he said by way of explanation.

  Zeke smiled and said, “OK, so I’ve spoken with Carol Lopper, who led me to the tattoos. Then I met with Carrie McCarthy in an interview that included Beth, her mom, which made me doubt the story we’ve all been told.”

  “Tattoos?” said Oscar. “Catch me up.”

  “Carol said that Susie asked her to help her get a tattoo a couple weeks ago, and Carol said she declined. I’m pretty sure both girls, Susie and Carrie, went ahead and got them anyway,” said Zeke.

  “What kind? A tramp stamp? Some cursive writing on her side? Lotsa kids have something like that, nowadays,” said Oscar, shaking his head.

  “I stopped by the tattoo shop,” said Zeke. “Immortal Ink, it’s called. They’re about as close as they can get to the school and still be legal. I spoke with a guy who calls himself ‘Squirrel’, sort of tall and lanky, with dyed pitch-black hair and massive body ink. Like some of those guys in Afghanistan. Remember?”

  “I do,” said Oscar, making a note on the pad.

  “So, I convinced Squirrel to check his recent sales, and he found a receipt for the two girls, Susie and Carrie. They went in on Saturday afternoon and got inked.”

  “They were there on Saturday?” asked Oscar, looking up.

  “Saturday after lunch,” said Zeke. “Squirrel said he came back from Subway and they were waiting outside the shop for him.”

  “But they’re too young,” started Oscar.

  “I know,” said Zeke. “Young but apparently resourceful. I’m thinking they offered him some weed to look the other way.” He looked at Oscar. “So, you and I need to follow through on this.”