of years I wasn’t clear on his profession.
“He’s a financial advisor.” When she said that, it jostled my memory and I recalled that when they’d first moved in, he’d said something about working in finance. I’d asked him a bunch of questions since it was shortly after Charlie had died and I was suddenly in charge of everything. I vaguely remembered he had seemed put off by all my questions and that was the end of it.
When I asked what exactly his title meant, she took a moment to collect her thoughts. “That’s what he calls himself. But really what he does is invest money for people. He pools all the money and buys and sells securities. I don’t know the exact details, but he has some special system. He always gets impatient when I ask any questions. I guess he thinks I won’t understand. When he has me make bank deposits, he tells me what to do as if I’m a child. The same when I help with the monthly statements. But he’s very good at what he does. Wherever I go, I run into clients of his and they always rave about Bradley’s magic touch.” Her face had brightened as she talked about her husband, but then her mood fizzled as she began to talk about how he’d acted the day before. “He’s been short- tempered with me before, but never like that. I wish I knew what I did that set him off.”
I put my hand on her shoulder in a consoling manner. “I’m sure it was more about him than anything you did.”
“You said there was a way you thought I could find him,” she said hopefully. “I’m mad at him for doing this to me, but I want to talk to him and find out what’s really wrong. Running off isn’t the way to deal with problems.”
“Does he have a credit card?” I asked and she nodded. She also nodded when I asked if her name was on the account as well.
“We both have cards on the same account,” she said. Then she began to get it. “And if I find out where he’s charging ...” Her voice trailed off as she went for her purse.
“I’d tell them you think there might be fraudulent charges on his card. They’ll be more likely to give you more details.” I mentioned that the women taking out their credit cards to buy the vampire books had been what made me think of it. “Not that there was any fraud going on with them.” I told her about the run on Anthony books, trying to lighten up the mood. I was glad to see a smile show up on her face when I brought up the launch party. “All this with Bradley will be settled by then and you can come and have fun with the rest of us.” I felt like I was on a teeter-totter. One minute the balance went toward her being involved in Bradley’s disappearance and then, like now, the balance went the other way and it seemed like a ridiculous thought.
She said something about liking that as she dialed the number off the back of her credit card. She got stuck in voice-mail jail until she spoke the words
“His last charge was for a one-way ticket on the seven P.M. Catalina Express yesterday.”
I had a little experience with the island of Santa Catalina. The island was about nineteen miles off the coast, and in the spring, summer and fall, it was a big destination for tourists, and boats ran often. At this time of year, it was mostly just locals going back and forth and there were only a few boats a day.
“How can I thank you?” Emily said. She suddenly looked as if a heavy overcoat had been lifted off her shoulders. “I just felt so helpless before. As soon as I drop the girls off at school tomorrow morning, I’m going to catch the first boat I can and go over there. If I have to knock on every door, I’m going to find him.”
Usually that would be a ridiculous statement, but in the case of Catalina, with one main town of only a few thousand residents, it was a doable challenge.
I admit I walked a little taller when I left. I’d done it. Problem solved. Bradley found. I walked across the dark lawn toward my house. As soon as I passed the row of trees that separated my property from the Perkins’, I saw a car in my driveway. In the dark I couldn’t make anything out beyond that it was a dark sedan. A figure started toward me. I recognized his walk and the outline of his solid build.
“Mason?” I said, going toward him. I was surprised to see the high-profile lawyer, and friend, at my home.
“I got worried when you didn’t show up. And you didn’t answer any of your phones. I went to the bookstore and there were a bunch of new cashiers who didn’t know anything. So then I came here.” He sucked in his breath when he saw the front door illuminated by the porch light. A piece of plywood covered the smashed part, but the door was obviously damaged. “What happened? Did somebody break in?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Not exactly. Barry did it.”
“The detective?” Mason said with a chuckle. “Didn’t he wrangle a key from you with some story about having to take care of his dog?”
“It’s a long story. He forgot he had a key.” I peered at Mason in the darkness. “Was I supposed to meet you somewhere?” My life had become so busy lately, I was going to have to come up with a better organizational system than writing notes on scraps of paper and leaving them on the kitchen table for the cats to knock to the floor. I checked my cell phone and realized I’d forgotten to plug it into the charger when I got home. It was still dead.
Mason held out his hand and the moonlight reflected off something metal in his hand.
“We were going to have dinner and you were going to help me with Spike’s sweater. Does that ring a bell?” he said in a fake hurt voice.
I sighed as my memory was jogged and it suddenly came back to me. Before the San Diego trip, I’d said I would have dinner with him and help him work on the dog sweater. He’d been anxious for us to get together because it was getting chilly and he didn’t want the toy fox terrier shivering on his night walks. I wasn’t sure how much dinner was about crocheting or just a convenient excuse to get together. It was hard to tell with Mason. Though he was a top criminal attorney known for keeping naughty celebrities out of jail, he was full of surprises. It was possible he really did want to learn how to crochet.
How to describe our relationship? At the very least we were friends—really good friends; Mason always came through with whatever I needed, whether it was background information on somebody or to catch me when I was about to fall. He was also always a willing ear. Did I mention that Mason wanted something more than friendship? We’d come close to that a few times, but something had always interfered.
“I’m sorry, I totally forgot,” I said before rambling off all the obstacles that had clogged up my memory. Mason put up his hand to stop me before I got even halfway through.
“You’re forgiven,” he said with a gentle chuckle. “I’m just glad you’re all right. So, what happened with the door?”
It had been a long day, an endless day by now, and all of it was beginning to kick in. How many times had I repeated the story? Somewhere in my busy day, I’d forgotten to eat. Mason heard my stomach growl.
“C’mon, we can skip the crochet lesson, but we both need dinner. You can tell me about the door when you’ve had some food.” He took me by the hand and led me to his car. It sounded like a great idea to me.
It was late and a weeknight, but Mason knew exactly where to go. A valet relieved us of the car and we walked toward an island of activity amid all the closed businesses on Ventura Boulevard. I was doubtful about the outdoor seating at first. We’d been having unusually cold weather lately. The weatherman on channel three had even mumbled something about the possibility of a rare snow shower. But the chill was no problem as the cafe had plenty of patio heaters and Mason made sure we were seated close to several. The cuisine was Israeli and I let Mason order. Within moments the waiter arrived with so many small plates of different salads they covered the table. He finished by bringing a freshly made circle of soft flat bread.
I took some bread and dipped it in the creamy hummus dip before I was ready to talk. I finally got the whole story out about the door. I finished by telling Mason how I’d helped Emily locate her missing husband.
“Once she gets a chance to talk to Bradley, I’m sure they’ll get whatever their problem is straightened out. I don’t know the Perkins that well, but they seem like a pretty solid couple.” When I mentioned Bradley’s last name, Mason reacted.
“Do you know Bradley Perkins, too?” I said, surprised.
“Not personally, but I know of him. Somebody was telling me how Perkins had invested some money for them and they’d made a bundle. The guy is supposed to have some knack for making money grow.” Mason seemed suddenly concerned. “You didn’t invest any money with him, did you?”
“I wasn’t even sure what he did for a living until a little while ago,” I said. Mason seemed relieved.
“There are never big returns without big risks,” he said as the waiter brought small portions of hot potatoes
