Ardmore Green Read online

  “I know,” said Oscar. “George doesn’t have the energy or the stamina to handle this stuff,” he thought, “and Carol, well, you met Carol. From her point of view, Susie can do no wrong.”

  “She does seem to cling to the image,” said Zeke.

  “Yeah. ‘Not my daughter, she couldn’t have done that,’” said Oscar, imitating Carol Lopper. “You probably got some of that.” He looked at Zeke.

  “No more than from other mothers,” said Zeke. “She did seem to take Susie’s request for a tattoo pretty lightly.”

  “Maybe in the retelling,” said Oscar, “but I assure you, when it was just her and Susie, it was a different story. You know, ‘How could you do this to me,’ stuff like that. She’s not done real well since George, ah, got sick.” He looked away.

  “Well, we’ll have to help her,” said Zeke. “What do you know about Beth McCarthy?”

  “Not much,” said Oscar. “I get to the school functions once in a while. You know, awards assemblies and such. I’ve seen Beth from across the room or down the aisle. We’ve never really spoken.”

  “Do you know Carrie?”

  “Carrie? Yeah, sometimes she and Susie would stop by. They used to leave their schoolbags here on their way home and take a detour to the ice cream store. At least that’s what they told me,” said Oscar sourly.

  “Probably true,” said Zeke. “There’s no real harm if they meet up with some boys there.”

  “Right, I know,” said Oscar.

  “OK, so help me with this. Susie asked her mom to let her get a tattoo a couple weeks ago,” said Zeke.

  “Right,” said Oscar. “And she was most likely shut down.”

  “Then she and Carrie, a week or so later, went on their own and got inked.”

  “Despite being fourteen years old and illegal,” said Oscar, looking at Zeke.

  “Despite that,” said Zeke. “Her parents were looking the other way, distracted, and she was hanging around with Carrie, who may be an instigator. Bad combination.”

  “So how’d they do it?”

  “It might have had something to do with their older boyfriends...a junior and a senior.”

  “No way,” said Oscar. “This gets better and better... How do you know?”

  “Well, Carol actually mentioned that Susie hung out with some guys who are juniors and seniors. In groups, she said.”

  “Oh,” said Oscar.

  “But Squirrel confirmed it.”

  “Squirrel? The tattoo guy?”

  “Right,” said Zeke. “The girls each got their boyfriend’s name tattooed on their...well, their derrières.

  “Oh, shit. You’re kidding me. I’ll kill the bastards!” Oscar shouted.

  “The good news is that we know who they are,” said Zeke with a smile.

  “Huh?” asked Oscar, distracted, still fuming.

  “Their names are on the girl’s butts. That’s evidence,” said Zeke, somewhat tongue in cheek. “Oh, come on, Oscar, you’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty funny.”

  “Right, like, ‘America’s Stupidest Crooks’,” said Oscar with a half-smile. “Let me autograph my work, right?”

  “And, fortunately, we don’t need to do an inspection. Squirrel, the tattoo guy, gave me the names. He takes pictures of all his work. Says it’s for insurance purposes, though I highly doubt that he carries insurance. Or, if he does, I doubt that he could find the policy if he needed it.”

  “He’s a stoner?” asked Oscar.

  “You bet,” said Zeke.

  “OK, so what are the names?” asked Oscar.

  “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I stopped back. I thought you could give me a line on the boyfriends. Help me figure out who and where they are.”

  “Sure,” said Oscar with a straight face. “And then I’ll kill them.”

  Zeke smiled. “Seth Gordon and Will Burns,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, I can help you with that,” said Oscar. “Be my pleasure.”

  Chapter 7

  Zeke sat on the wingback chair in the small living room across from Mrs. Ruth Manicotti, the music teacher at the Brecknock School that Susie and Carrie attended. The room was dominated by a grand piano, surrounded by small chairs and small tables covered with doilies. There were music books stacked on the floor surrounding the piano. It was obvious that Mrs. Manicotti gave piano lessons to supplement her income.

  “I never taught her,” said the teacher when she’d greeted Zeke at the door. “I mean as a tutoring student. Susie was in my Music Appreciation class last year. She did well, I think she ended up with a ‘B’.

  “I saw your name on her last report card, and Oscar Larosa told me that you live here, just down the street from him. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” said Zeke.

  Mrs. Manicotti was a round woman in her late sixties, Zeke judged. She had brown hair pulled into a neat bun and was wearing a dress with nylon stockings and what Zeke’s mother would have called ‘sensible shoes’. Her house seemed neat and organized, if a bit worn.

  “No, no problem. Since Mr. Manicotti passed away, I’ve had more time than I know what to do with. It would help if they’d extend the school year, you know, make it year-round like they do in Japan.”

  “Yes, ma’am. How long ago did your husband pass away?” asked Zeke.

  It’s been six years now,” she said. “He died in his sleep. A heart attack, they said.” She said it as if she didn’t believe it.

  “I’m sorry,” Zeke said respectfully.

  “Oh, it’s OK,” said Mrs. Manicotti, reflectively.

  Zeke paused and looked out the small front window at the grass and sugar maple trees visible from his chair. He paused for a moment before he looked back at the woman.

  “I’m here because Susie’s been missing for about a week. I’m trying to help find her.”

  “Oh, my,” said Mrs. Manicotti. “What happened to her? Is she alright?”

  “We don’t know. She seems to have disappeared a day or so after school let out.”

  “Her dad has cancer,” Mrs. Manicotti said, almost to herself. “She was terribly upset about it in class.”

  “Can you tell me anything about Susie’s friends?” he asked.

  “Well, not too much. She was in my class with her friend Gina, and they always sat together.”

  “That’s Gina Samone?” asked Zeke.

  “Huh? Oh, yes.”

  “Do you know of any boys she was close to?”

  “No, I wasn’t watching for anything like that, but I don’t think I ever saw her with a boy. Mostly Gina, or sometimes a small group, like a study group.”

  “Was Will Burns in your class, also?” asked Zeke.

  “Will was in a different class. He was older than Susie.”

  “Right,” said Zeke. “But you taught him music, also?”

  “I did. As much as I could, anyhow. Some students are there to learn, and others...” She looked at Zeke and shrugged.

  “Tell me about Will Burns,” he said and smiled at her.

  “Mr...” she paused and looked at his card, “Traynor, you have the most beautiful eyes. I’ll bet you hear that a lot. My Henry had beautiful eyes, too. Blue and inquisitive and yet very intelligent. He was a scientist, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Zeke. “What was his field?”

  “Medicine,” she said. “He worked for a pharmaceutical company in Philadelphia. He was so smart.”

  “Mine were a gift from my father,” said Zeke. “I really didn’t have much to do with it.”

  Mrs. Manicotti smiled a distracted smile.

  “But thank you,” said Zeke.

  “Will Burns?” Zeke asked, after a few moments of silence.

  “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Manicotti. “I’m sorry, just an old woman reminiscing. What can I tell you about Will?”

  “What was he like in school?” asked Zeke. Start easy, he thought.

  “Oh, he was unusual. He really didn’t have much interest in music that
I could see. I think he may have been high most of the time.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, he was in an afternoon class, fifth period, which was one of the first classes after lunch for many students. He was a junior this year, and I think they used to go to lunch off campus, and then come to my class with bloodshot eyes and smelling like smoke.”

  “Did he pass the class?”

  “Yes, with a C or a D, I think. It was a gift to let him graduate and move on. Will had been put back a grade once, which is very unusual at Brecknock.”

  “You’re a college prep school, right?”

  “Primarily, the emphasis is on getting our students into some of the best colleges. But that doesn’t apply to all the students...”

  “Of course. Was he ever in any trouble? Serious trouble?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, not really,” said Mrs. Manicotti, thinking. “Not that I recall. He didn’t really fit in at Brecknock, though.”

  “How so?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, Will was sort of a loner, different. And he liked to play that up. Like a James Dean character or something.”

  “Rebel Without a Cause?” asked Zeke, naming one of Dean’s most famous movies.

  “Sort of like that, in a Philadelphia sort of way,” said the teacher. “I remember that movie when I was a young girl growing up. It was about the bad boys, the rebel teens. Will Burns could have been cast for a part in that movie.”

  “What else comes to mind?” asked Zeke.

  “Well, I guess the Rocky movie was sort of like that, too,” said Mrs. Manicotti.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Zeke and mentally rolled his eyes. “Did Will have any friends? Girlfriends that he hung around with?”

  “No, not really. Not in my class, anyhow. He did have a group of kids that he liked to spend time with, usually over at Suburban Square. The skateboard crowd.”

  “How about Seth Gordon?” asked Zeke. “What can you tell me about him?”

  “Seth, yes,” said the teacher. “His older sisters went to Brecknock. Anne and Amy. They’re graduated now. Seth was a senior last year. He’s one of those who goes to great trouble to let you know that he doesn’t care...”

  “Care about..?” asked Zeke.

  “Anything. He doesn’t care about anything, if you ask Seth.”

  “What else?” asked Zeke.

  Suddenly, Mrs. Manicotti leveled her gaze at Zeke as if she’d remembered something. “You’ll need to talk with Miss Davies. Catrin Davies, the English teacher. I think she was Will’s advisor.”

  Chapter 8

  Zeke knocked on the wooden front door again. It resulted in a solid, muted sound, almost regal. The large, brick house was positioned at an angle on a large corner lot, raised and overlooking the tree-lined street and covered with green ivy. The brick around the front door had been painted Ardmore Green. Not confident that he’d been heard, Zeke rapped with his knuckle on the clear glass window inset in the center of the door.

  As he stepped back from the door, he saw his reflection. Zeke was about five ten, not tall, but not short either, with longish blond hair and slate blue eyes. His posture was straight and balanced. At thirty-eight, Zeke moved like a man ten years younger. He also noticed his self-effacing smile, reversed in the reflection.

  “Coming, just a moment.” He heard the voice from somewhere within the house. The sound of high heels on ceramic tile grew louder, and without pause the heavy door burst open on silent hinges, the doorway framing a pretty woman, fortyish with jet black hair pulled into a ponytail. She was dressed in a narrow gray pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse. She wore gray tortoise shell glasses with lenses too big for her gray eyes.

  She looked at Zeke questioningly. “You’re not a cop,” she said.

  “No, ma’am,” said Zeke. “But you’re Miss Davies,” he said with a smile.

  “I am, and this is my house.” She turned and walked back inside the house. “Come on in,” she said, over her shoulder.

  Zeke stepped into the foyer, closed the door, and followed Miss Davies into a small side room, a parlor. She sat in a chair and motioned for him to do the same. Zeke sat.

  “Thanks for seeing me on short notice, Miss Davies,” Zeke said. “We’re looking for Susie Lopper, and we’re trying to move quickly.”

  “Catrin. Call me Catrin. I heard that Susie was missing.”

  “Yes, and I’m looking into it for the family, Catrin.”

  “What do you think happened to her?”

  “Not sure, really. We’re still trying to put the pieces together,” said Zeke. “I do want to ask you about Susie,” he continued, “but I want to talk about Will Burns first.”

  “Will. Do you think he had something to do with this?” asked Catrin.

  “I don’t know,” said Zeke.

  “Well, I was Will’s advisor, as you probably know.”

  “Yes, Ruth Manicotti told me.”

  “And as such, I can’t betray any confidential information or anything private from the files.”

  Zeke brushed that aside with a nod. As he looked at her, he noticed that Catrin Davies had a fairly narrow face. Her glasses tended to make her face look rounder, and her makeup accentuated her eyes and her cheeks, while her hair style deemphasized her forehead and, somehow, her chin. Money, thought Zeke. All it takes is money.

  “How long have you been with the Brecknock School, Catrin?” asked Zeke.

  “I’ve worked there sixteen years,” she said. When she smiled, her gray eyes sparkled.

  “You’re an alumna, I expect,” Zeke stated.

  “Well, yes,” said Catrin. She looked directly at him. “How did you know?”

  “Can I ask you about Will Burns, then?” he continued. “Generally.”

  “Well, generally,” she paused and smiled at Zeke, very self-confident. “Generally, he’s a pretty good kid who plays up the loner thing. He has a little bit of attitude, but mostly he uses it to get attention. Attention from girls, I’d guess, and from younger kids.”

  “Was he seeing anyone in particular? Dating?”

  “Not that I noticed,” she said.

  “How about the prom, did he take anyone?”

  “No, Will’s not the prom type. He’d want you to think he spent the evening at a friend’s house, playing video games and smoking Maui waui.”

  “Maui waui? Good marijuana,” said Zeke.

  “Yes, that’s what the kids call the stuff that comes in from Hawaii. It’s supposed to be a high quality weed.”

  “You learn a lot hanging around a High School,” said Zeke.

  “And a Middle School,” said Catrin.

  “Where does Will live?” Zeke asked.

  Catrin looked at him and thought for a moment. Then she smiled. “You can find that in the phone book. Will Burns’ father is a teacher, too. A chemistry teacher at the public high school. They’re in Conshohocken, a few miles north of here.”

  “Can I borrow your phone book?” Zeke asked, looking around and smiling. Catrin repeated an address and phone number from memory.

  “You’re good,” said Zeke.

  “I knew you’d worm it out of me,” she said. “I was prepared.”

  “How did you know?” Zeke asked.

  “Ruth told me you were very good looking,” she said. “She was taken by your eyes.”

  Zeke looked at her and smiled.

  “Do you want to write that down?” she asked.

  “No need. Tell me what you can about Susie, please. Susie Lopper.”

  “I know Susie from counseling, from around the school, but she hasn’t taken any of my classes yet. I teach mostly High School English.”

  “Anything strike you as strange about her?” asked Zeke.

  “Not really. She’s a small girl, sort of petite, you know. Proportioned but tiny.”

  “Couldn’t tell from the photos,” said Zeke.

  “No, you wouldn’t,” said Catrin. “Like I said, she’s proportioned we
ll, just smaller than most kids her age.”

  “Like cheerleader small?” asked Zeke.

  “Sort of like that,” said Catrin. “But she isn’t much into athletics. Honor Society, I know, because I’m the faculty sponsor. And I think she was on the dance team last spring, but I’m not positive.”

  “OK. Did anything happen that might make her disappear? Anything at school? Maybe something scared her?”

  “Don’t know of anything,” said Catrin. She sat patiently and smiled at Zeke again. He saw her eyes sparkle once more.

  “Did you know about her father?” asked Zeke.

  Catrin frowned for a moment. “Yes, I heard that he’s terminal,” she said. “That’s so hard for a young girl like Susie to deal with, losing a parent.”

  “Have you lived here long?” asked Zeke, looking around the room. “In this house?”

  “Why’s that important?” asked Catrin.

  “Curiosity, really. It’s a nice house.”

  “And you’re not sure how an English teacher can afford it, I suppose,” said Catrin. Her posture was good and her gaze direct.

  “Not the first time someone’s asked that?” asked Zeke, smiling.

  “I inherited this house from my parents,” said Catrin. “I grew up here. My parents died in a car accident several years ago. Hit by a drunk driver.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Zeke.

  “Thank you,” said Catrin. She paused attentively, sitting forward on the edge of the chair and waiting for the next question.

  “Any behavior problems?” asked Zeke.

  Catrin looked at him blankly.

  “With Susie, I mean,” he said.

  She smiled again. Sparkle, he thought.

  “I thought for a moment you meant with me. Behavioral problems with me.” She laughed to herself.

  That’s flirty of her, he thought. “Well, I’d be interested in knowing about that, too,” Zeke said.

  She smiled her wide smile again. “No, nothing that I know of. She was pretty well behaved, I think.”

  “What about Susie’s friends?” asked Zeke. “Any special group she hung around with? Do any of her friends other than Carrie McCarthy come to mind?”

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t that close to Susie. But from what I did notice, she and Carrie McCarthy were pretty close. And Gina Samone. Also, Carrie, I know, was dating a boy named Seth Gordon. He just graduated. He’s much older than she is.”