I was always wary of faces like that.
“You’re welcome,” the man replied. “Name’s Parker.”
I shook his hand. “Jake. Nice meeting you.”
“Likewise. You here on vacation?”
“Nope. Live here.”
“Nice.” He nodded. “I’d love to live here. Such a beautiful city.”
“It is.”
“You from London?”
“I was born there, yeah. East London lad.”
“Cool. I was there a week ago. Did all the touristy stuff.”
“Selfie outside Buckingham Palace?”
“You know it. Spent two weeks in the UK. Did some of Wales, Scotland, but missed Northern Ireland. I’ve got a whole Ireland trip planned for later this year.”
I looked to Lou again. She was now sitting in a donut seat, not trapped, her child weight not causing drama.
“A whole year traveling? Nice one. Enjoy.”
“Hey, fancy grabbing a coffee?”
“Sorry, I’m out with my daughter. We’re having a fresh air moment … inside.”
“It’s too cold.”
“It is.”
“What about the café here? If you fancy some company and telling me more about the city.”
“I—”
“Hi.” Lou had joined us, the book in her hand.
“Hello.” Parker bent forward. “What’s your name?”
My hand instinctively went to the top of her turquoise bobble hat.
“Louise. What’s yours?”
“Parker.”
“You’re American.”
“I am.”
“Can you speak any Dutch?”
“A little. How about this: Ik hou van Kerstmis.”
She giggled. “I love Christmas too!”
“I bet you do.” He straightened up. “She’s a cutie.”
“That she is.”
“My daddy and papa teached me Dutch just like at school. It’s important.”
Parker’s smile wavered a little. “Did he?”
“They,” she said. “Both. Papa is better at it than Daddy, but Daddy’s still good.” She looked up at me. “Right, Daddy?”
I would knock him the fuck out if he so much as breathed a speck of homophobia at me. “That’s right, your papa is better than me.” I watched him, dared him to open his mouth if he was having bigoted thoughts.
But his smile widened again. “That’s wonderful. I was just asking your daddy if he wanted to have a coffee with me.”
Okay, I hadn’t expected that.
“You’re a stranger, though,” she responded.
He chuckled. “Aren’t all new friends strangers first?”
“We got food to make,” she responded.
“Food?”
“Party. Sinterklaas is coming tomorrow. Daddy says it’s important we keep ‘ditions.”
“That’s right. St. Nicholas Eve. Well, if you can’t, that’s cool. See you around?” He addressed that last part to me.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He pulled a card out of his pocket. “Here’s my number.”
It was a plain white rectangle. All that was written on it was ‘Parker Smith’ and his phone number.
“Thanks.” I pocketed it.
“Keep me in my mind if you fancy a chat one day.”
“I will.”
“Nice meeting you.”
“You too. Cheers for saving me.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome. Bye, Louise.”
“Bye.” She waved at him.
He waved back and then turned, heading out of the shop.
That was … weird. I was naturally distrusting of people. I saw it as a trait rather than a flaw because I’d seen some dark shit in my life, been burned by people. Plus, it was handy in my job to always be suspicious. I wasn’t one for the kindness of strangers.
I didn’t like it. Why want some coffee with me? Oh. Did he fancy me? Was that why his smile had wobbled like that? Had me being with another guy foiled his chances? I’d just blocked a guy’s moves …
Good. I couldn’t be dealing with that stuff.
No.
No way.
There was more to it than that, though. What did Parker Smith want?
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Shall we go home?”
“We haven’t been out long.”
“I know, but I want home now.”
I picked her up, the book still in her hand. “Tell you what, why don’t we go and buy Papa a big slice of boterkoek and surprise him? Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
“Wicked. Now go and put that book back.” I put her down.
“What about your book, Daddy?”
“I’m good. Let’s go and get Papa that cake.”
Reading was the last thing on my mind. I needed to talk to Dean.
Six
Dean
Mr. Visser was a thin man, looking like he’d blow away in the breeze. He was balding, the edges of his pale blue eyes crinkled with crow’s feet, his lips chapped. The dark circles of sleep labeled him an exhausted man, his skin a sickly pink.
He was hunched forward in the chair on the other side of my desk.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked in Dutch.
He shook his head. “I just want to see my wife.”
God, he was devastated. Not just tired but broken. “I want to help you find her, Mr. Visser. But I’ll need more information.”
I’d looked into the report Lars, our police contact, had emailed over. There wasn’t much other than the transcript of the interview conducted with Mr. Visser. They’d found nothing, put out a search bulletin that’d had no response so far. I’d have to call Lars later and see if he had anything else.
“Is there anywhere you think she could have gone?”
Mr. Visser blinked, taking a moment to answer. “There’s nowhere for her to go. She wouldn’t leave me.”
“No, I know that.” I really had to be careful not to set him off again. “I just need to cover all bases. Okay, apart from her leg, was she ill at all? Did her medication cause her to have hallucinations?”
“Hallucinations?”
“People react differently to drugs. Did she? Is that a possibility?”
“All she had was strong painkillers, some calcium tablets.”
“That’d be fine. I just want to be sure she didn’t wander off, maybe go to a place that’s special to her under the influence of drugs.”
He slammed his fist down on the desk. “She doesn’t take drugs. She is of sound mind. She was taken from me!” His face was turning purple with rage. “My wife would not leave me! She wouldn’t! I was never cruel! I only shouted at her to stop eating all the candy canes! She loves them and eats too many! Her poor teeth! That is not cruelty! I was as worried as a husband should be!”
I put my hands up. “Okay, okay. I—”
He was on his feet, the chair overturning. “Why won’t anyone listen to me?” Tears spilled down his face.
I stood. “You need to calm down.”
“You! You are
