be a mother. It’s like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I haven’t made one in years, but I still know how.”
“I guess you don’t want me working for you no more.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’ll expect you first thing in the morning.”
“She looked away. “No, I won’t be able to…be around you.”
“I need you, Karen.”:
“I’ll stay till you find somebody.” Karen turned toward the door, then stopped. “Almost forgot, here’s your $200.”
“Thank you. There’s one thing you can do for me, Karen. If you should hear from Jamie’s mother tell her where he is. But please don’t tell anyone else, especially-”
“Marco, I know. I won’t.”
Doreen watched her leave, then, still holding Jamie, looked at Walter. ”Should I have asked you first?”
“You know better than that, it’s just-”
“It won’t be hard to trace him here, I know. We’ll just have to be careful, won’t we?”
He took the boy from her, held him aloft. “Young man, would you like some of Grandpa Byerly’s famous stew? It’s served in the finest kitchens of Europe, not to forget Asia and Antarctica. Do you know where that is?”
“Of course he does.”
“Smart kid we got here.” He sat him on a stool. ”Or would you prefer Grandma Doreen’s unforgettable peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
“Jelly.”
“I shouldn’t have given you the choice.”
Later he said to her softly. “While we’re not worrying about possible dangers, shall we also not worry about becoming too attached to a certain little boy and losing him?”
She looked at him soulfully. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“And when you’re good you’re very, very good.”
14: Detective Lupe Grills
“Eat your cereal.”
Jamie’s tower of Fruit Loops climbed past two inches. “Why?” he said. An orange loop was nestled atop a red one.
“So you’ll grow up big and strong.”
“Why?”
Byerly laughed. “Maybe you should go back to grandmother school.”
“I haven’t forgotten a thing, and I’m having so much fun.”
“With all those whys the kid will grow up to be a research scientist.”
“It’s just the age, love, have you forgotten?”
A brown loop was added to the stack, then another red one. “Look, DeeDee.”
“I am, I am, it’s an-”
“Engineering marvel,” he said. “The kid’s an architect.”
The tower grew another loop. Both the boy and Doreen clapped and squealed, then it collapsed amid groans. She scooped the fallen cereal into a bowl, poured milk and said, “Now you’ll just have to eat the naughty Fruit Loops.” At last Jamie picked up his spoon.
“You taking him to the shop?”
“Nothing else to do.”
“I’m not driving for Care Wheels today. I could-”
“I really want him. Besides, the girls at the shop think he’s adorable.”
“He takes after you. Maybe I’ll stop around later, take him off your hands for awhile.”
When they were gone he perused the bible, but no names in Denver leaped out at him. Maria Angelo said Josh Kinkaid was with an auto show in Denver. Auto. Only one person for that. He picked up the phone, then thought better of it.
A few minutes later he turned off the 101 on to Hope Avenue, and one of the neater bits of planning in Santa Barbara. Most of the auto dealers were gathered in the one area, making shopping easier and reducing sprawl. He pulled into the BMW dealership, Cutter Motors. Did the name have anything to do with price?
“When are you getting rid of this junker?” Ed Eastman asked. He was tall, blond, fortyish, not too glib or dishonest. He probably would not sell a used car to his grandmother.
“It’s hardly broken in yet.”
“Sure, sure, how’s DeeDee?”
“She’s fine, the car you sold her, too.” He was tempted to tell him about her hair-raising ride, but Eastman probably drove like that all the time. “What’s an auto show?”
He laughed. “I’ve never known anyone who knew or cared less about cars. An auto show is an exhibit of new and experimental cars, usually held in a civic center or convention hall. Big crowds show up. Not everyone is like you, Walt.”
“Is there one in Denver?”
“Could be, I don’t know. Why?”
“You sound like a certain kid I know. I’m trying to locate someone. He’s supposed to be at auto show in Denver.”
“May I know who?”
“Josh Kinkaid.”
“Oh, I know him, a real car nut, used to hang around here till we asked him to leave. He could easily be associated with a car show, let me check.”
Walter watched him go to work on his phone. “You’re texting?”
“It’s the only way nowadays.”
Byerly nodded. Just have to modernize. But what about the personal touch, something known as the human voice?
”Here we go.” He read a moment. “The auto show is no longer in Denver. It’s gone to Minneapolis. Want me to try there?”
“Sure.” He was a trifle amazed.
“Josh Kinkaid is there. He’s being paged.”
Already! “I’d like to speak to him by phone, if possible.” In a short time he had Josh Kinkaid on his cell phone. “You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your mother’s.”
”Mums? Is she okay?”
He sounded like Alfie without the British accent. At least he was concerned about her. “Not really.” He told him.
'That’s awful! Why is she doing that?”
“Your father left all his money to you. She hasn’t a penny.”
“God! What can I do?”
The young man was either retarded or terminally naive. Either way a cage was probably wise, for his own protection. “The solution to most of Addie’s problems is known as M-O-N-E-Y. She needs it, at least a credit card, for hotel, food, the rest.”
“Money, sure, I’ll send some. Where?”
“Send it to me. That would be easiest.” He gave the address. “She’d like to see you, Josh, at least know where you are, talk to you.”
“I’d like to talk to Mums, too” He was silent a moment. “Tell you what, Mr. Byerly, this show’s about over. Why don’t I fly out to Santa Barbara, check up on Mums, okay?”
“I think you’ll be glad you did.”
Within the hour Byerly moved Addie Kinkaid from the Salvation Army into a modest motel. After tears and profuse thanks, she said, “I told you he was a good boy.”
