No Such Thing as a Free Ride (32 page)

“It would serve you right if I did,” he told me, hanging up.

I retrieved the messages on my phone, blasting past Paul’s to get to Nick’s.

“Hello, Angel. Alphonso filled me in on what happened. Give me a call.”

The next message was sent a few hours later. “Just checking in to make sure you’re okay. Call me.”

I thought I noted a touch of urgency in his voice and was just about to call him back when I heard a knock at the door. I stumbled over to open it, in all my morning-breath and bed-head glory.

Nick stood on the steps, unshaven and sexy as all get out. His chest looked slightly broader than usual and I could see the outline of his bandages under his tee shirt. He gave me a wry smile. “Hello, Angel.”

“Nick,” I squeaked, equal parts delighted and mortified. “Um, come in. I was just—uh—I’ll be right back.”

I took the stairs two at a time, brushed my teeth, changed my shirt, applied some fresh deodorant and ran a comb through my hair. When I came back down he was sitting on the couch, petting the dog.

“I
just
heard your messages. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back—shouldn’t you be on bedrest?”

“I’m fine, darlin’, good as new. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You had quite a night.”

“Yeah, it was pretty eventful. Listen, have you eaten breakfast yet? Since you came all this way, the least I can do is feed you.”

Nick sat at the kitchen table while I scrambled around trying to find him something to eat. “Would you like eggs or pancakes? Cereal?”

“Whatever you usually have for breakfast is fine with me.”

That would be marshmallows toasted on top of the stove.
“How about French toast?” I said, taking a stale loaf of sourdough out of the refrigerator.

For once I didn’t have much of an appetite, so I sat there with Nick while he ate his breakfast. I’d only burned it a little bit and anyway he didn’t seem to notice.

Nick finished his plate and put down his fork. He eyed me for a minute and then said gently, “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“Nothing.”

He sat quietly and waited until I was uncomfortable enough to fill the void. “Okay, it’s just that—look, I’m really grateful that we found those girls, but—”

“We still don’t know what happened to Star,” he finished for me.

“Yeah,” I said, absently running my finger through the syrup that was left on his plate. “Crystal needs closure, one way or the other.”

“So do you, Darlin’. Let’s go over it again.”

“Star wasn’t like the others,” I began. “She wasn’t pregnant. She got involved through a random meeting.”

“You said you suspected Garner’s wife knew about the affair. She didn’t go on the trip to Los Angeles with him. What if she followed him on the day in question, found out who he was seeing and then went back later to grab Star?”

“Bobby said she had an alibi and plenty of witnesses to back her up for the time period in question. I guess she could have hired someone to take Star, but… Nick, if Eleanor did take Star, why would she be driving her around in a car that’s so easily identifiable? I mean it has
vanity
plates. That’s like saying,
Look at me, look at me.
Unless Eleanor wanted to set James up to get back at him—but why would she mess up a lucrative business just to get revenge on her husband?”

And in the next instant I answered my own question. “Oh my God. She
wouldn’t
. Eleanor didn’t kidnap Star. But I think I know who did!”

I ran into the living room and shoved my feet into my shoes. “I’m sure I’m right. I’ve gotta go.”

“I’m coming with you. You can explain on the way.”

*****

“It all makes perfect sense when you think about it, Nick. It was their daughter, Caitlin. It had to be. Make a right here.” We were headed for the Garner’s house. I only prayed the kid was still there, not spirited away by some well meaning relative.

“Everything points to her. Remember I told you about the day I’d seen them at the restaurant. She saw how her mother reacted when her dad put his arm around her. What if she knew why they were having trouble and she wanted to do something about it? You know how kids are. I can just imagine her thinking if she can just get rid of Star, her parents will be happy again.”

“That’s a big leap from her wishing her parents would stop fighting to kidnapping a real live girl.”

“Yeah, but that’s not all. Eleanor was at a dinner party the night Star got picked up. She has an airtight alibi.
Someone
took their car. Caitlin had access to it, plus, a kid would be far less likely to think about the ramifications of driving around with vanity plates. Look, her mother’s out for the evening, there’s the car… but she couldn’t have done this alone. Besides being too physically small to pull off something like this, Harmony said she saw a guy driving. It must’ve been Caitlin’s behemoth boyfriend, Ben.

“The more I think about this, the more sense it makes. And if my hunch is right, I have a good idea where they took Star. Pull over a sec.”

Nick pulled to the curb and parked. “What’s going on?”

“Ben lives at his parents’ house. They have a sound studio in the back of their house. I’m assuming it’s
soundproof.
When I was at the Garners’ place I met Ben. He said his parents were in Europe and they’d be coming back in about a week. He’s an artist, and he’s been storing his paintings in the Garners’ garage because he was storing something else in the studio while his parents were gone. Nick, I’ll bet you anything they stashed Star in there.”

“So where’s this kid live?” he asked, starting up the car again.

“Damn! I don’t know! I don’t even know his last name… wait… he wrote his signature at the bottoms of his paintings. I closed my eyes. “Ben… Stein? Stiller? St—Stivac! Ben Stivac!” I whipped out my cell phone and punched in the number for Information.

Two minutes later we were back in business. The Stivacs lived about three blocks away from the Garners’. Nick pulled across the street from the house and parked. “Unhh!” I whined. “The studio isn’t visible from the street. Why can’t anything ever be easy?”

“Because if it was, you wouldn’t be interested.” It was an offhand remark and scarily true.

“It’s only a little after 9:00 a.m.,” I said, checking the time. “Let’s hope Ben isn’t an early riser.”

We snuck around to the back of the house and spied a small structure, about 15 by 20 square feet. It looked like a converted garage.

Nick checked around for an alarm system. Not finding one, he pulled some tools out of his back pocket and went to work on the lock.

“Wait,” I said, putting my hand on his wrist. I was shaking so hard I could barely stay vertical.

Nick put his hands on my shoulders and gazed steadily into my eyes. “You’ve been through so much, Angel, I wish I could protect you from this one. But no matter what we find in there, just know that you tried harder for that kid than anyone has in her entire life. And you’re not walking into this alone. I’m right here with you.”

I nodded slowly, blinking back tears as Nick opened the door.

As our eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the room, we heard a rustling noise followed by an unearthly bellow.

“Get me the fuck out of here!”

I jumped a mile. Seated cross legged on a mattress in the corner of the room was a teenage girl with stringy brown hair. She looked like she hadn’t bathed in weeks, which come to think of it, she hadn’t.

“Star?”

She jumped to her feet, looking like she was getting ready to bolt, only she couldn’t figure out how to get around the two of us. “Who the hell are you?” she sneered instead.

I bit my lip hard to keep from bursting into relieved laughter. “We’re friends of Crystal’s and we came to get you out of here,” I told her, replaying an eerily familiar scene. And for what seemed like the umpteenth time, I took out my phone and called the police.

*****

Late afternoon found an unlikely trio traveling eastbound on the Betsy Ross Bridge to Tom’s River. Nick was driving. I was riding shotgun and our newest charge, Star, was in the back seat, hanging her head out the window, sucking in her newfound freedom. The nightmare was finally over.

Ben folded like a house of cards the minute the police showed up at his door. The story bore out the way I’d suspected. Caitlin had heard her parents arguing about the “teenage whore” James had gotten involved with. So she convinced Ben to help her save her parents’ marriage by eliminating her mother’s competition.

On the afternoon of the 15th, the kids followed James in Ben’s car as he picked Star up on her corner and took her to the motel. That night, with her dad in another state and her mother at a party, Caitlin and Ben drove back to the neighborhood to look for Star. There was one hitch in their plans. Ben’s car was overheating, so they decided to take SMILEY 1 instead.

They had never planned to hurt Star. They just wanted to scare her into breaking off contact with Caitlin’s dad. But Star, in inimitable street kid fashion, stuck an attitude and things just spiraled from there.

Caitlin was picked up at her aunt’s where she had been staying since her parents’ arrest the night before. She, too, seemed to welcome the chance to unburden herself. I asked Bobby what he thought might happen to them.

“They’re both under the age of eighteen, so my guess is after a psychiatric evaluation, they’ll be given community service and remanded to the custody of their parents, or in Caitlin’s case, her aunt. Star refuses to press charges, so there’s not much of a case against them.”

I turned around to Star, who was now flipping the bird to a guy in the next lane over. “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, how come you didn’t press charges against Caitlin and Ben?” Don’t you want to see them pay for what they did to you?”

Star shrugged. “I’ve had far worse done to me. Besides, they were okay, and at least I was getting fed.”

The more likely reason was it was easier to let it go than to get caught up in the legal system.
Street tough to the bitter end.

As we pulled up to Sal’s beach haven, Elwood, the yellow lab puppy ran to greet us. A minute later we were standing at the screen door, Nick and I in front, with Star tucked in behind us.

Crystal opened the screen to let us in. “Any word on Star?” she asked by way of greeting.

“Gee, I don’t know,” I said, as Star stepped out from behind us. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

A stunned silence ensued, followed by teenaged screams of pure happiness.

Two hours later we said our goodbyes to Star and Crystal. Crystal walked me to the door.

“Brandy, I don’t really know how to thank you for what you did for me and Star, and um, for the rest of the girls. Nobody’s ever fought for me like you did.”

I cracked a lame joke to keep from crying. “Yeah, well, I had to do something with those boxing lessons I’ve been taking. Listen, promise me you’ll keep in touch when you get to your grandma’s. I’m really glad you called her.”

“Yeah. Me too. I couldn’t believe she said I could bring Star along.” She laughed. “That old lady doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into.”

I reached out and gave her a hug. “Take care, Crystal.”

She hugged me back, hesitated and hugged me again, hard. And then, for the first time she looked me straight in the eye. “Natasha,” she said. “My name is Natasha.”

*****

“You don’t look so good.” I never thought I would utter those words to Nick, but the truth is he wasn’t as “recuperated” as he’d led me to believe. The ride to Jersey had taken its toll on him.

Nick cut me a tired smile. “I’m fine, Darlin’. Just thinking about Caitlin and her family. I guess that old adage is true. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“And sometimes, the apple falls in a whole ’nuther universe. Nick, you’re nothing like your father. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty good judge of character. I wouldn’t waste my time on someone who wasn’t worth it.”

Nick took one hand off the wheel and draped his arm around my shoulder. “Have I ever told you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“No, but feel free to start any time.”
Wow. I guess fending off a psycho pimp, a crazy-assed street mom and a murderous husband and wife team was a real confidence booster.

It was almost seven by the time we got back into Philly. I’d called John earlier to see if he could feed and walk the dog for me. Adrian is nuts about his Uncle John.

“I’ll head out right now,” John told me. “Oh, and by the way, it wasn’t the Crocs. Garrett had the flu. That’s why I hadn’t heard from him. We’re going to Fairmount Park to watch the fireworks tonight.”

The Fireworks. With all the other stuff going on, I somehow missed the fact that it was the Fourth of July.
“Happy Independence Day, John,” I told him. “Enjoy the light show.”

“You know,” Nick said after I disconnected with John, “the Art Museum puts on a pretty good fireworks display. You can actually see them from my living room window. If you’re interested, that is.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice.

*****

For as many times as I’d been over to Nick’s place, I still got a thrill riding up in the elevator, waiting while he opened the door, and stepping through the threshold into his apartment.

We’d picked up Indian food and some wine along the way and I set it out on his coffee table while Nick changed the dressing on his bandage. When I was finished setting out the food, I poured myself a hefty glass of wine and wandered off to take a peek in the spare room.

“Don’t do it,” warned a sensible little voice in my head. “You know you’ll only get upset if you find evidence that another woman has been in there.”

“You’re right,” I said aloud. But it was like trying to stop myself from checking out an accident on the interstate. I know I’m gonna wish I hadn’t, but I’m always compelled to look anyway.

To my relief, the sleeper couch had been put together and there were no obvious signs of recent visitors. I took a large gulp of wine and crept backwards out of the room, smack into Nick. “Looking for something in particular?” he asked, shooting me a wicked grin.