“You ready?” I asked my dad.
“Yes.” He looked at me, his hand on the car door handle. “But I’ll tell you again, if I think he’s involved, I’m not leaving without answers.”
“If I think he’s involved, I’ll help you get those answers.”
One corner of my father’s mouth lifted, the closest he’d gotten to a smile since my mom had failed to appear.
“Come on. Let’s see what Lou has to tell us.”
We went straight into his office. He had an outer waiting room but no receptionist. The door to the inner office was closed.
“Lou?” My dad called. “It’s Anson.”
When there was no reply, I went and knocked on the office door. It opened slightly under the pressure of my hand, allowing me a glimpse inside.
Lou was in his chair, slumped over his desk. I shoved the door wide and ran to the desk. “Dad, call 911.”
“Already on it.”
I put my hand on Lou’s neck. There was still a pulse, thankfully. I hauled him back in the chair so he was sitting up. Not the easiest task. Lou was a large man.
My dad was telling the dispatcher what was going on. When he hung up, he joined me at the desk. “Is he…?”
“No,” I said. “He still has a pulse. But he’s cold and clammy.”
“Pale, too.” My dad leaned in. “Lou, can you hear me? Help is on the way.”
No response. Lou’s eyes were rolled back in his head. I looked at the desk. There were a few prescription bottles and a carafe of water near the phone.
My dad picked the bottles up and read the labels. “A diuretic, blood-pressure meds and some high-cholesterol pills.” He grimaced as he looked at me. “Not good. I think it might be his ticker.”
The faint wail of sirens filled the air.
“They’re going to want a reason why we’re here,” I told my dad. “What are we going to say?”
“We’ll just tell them what I told Lou, that I was thinking about changing management and wanted to see what he could offer.”
“And when Maude hears about that?” Maude Dabrowski was my parents’ agent. She was a tough cookie and had done well for them, but hearing secondhand that her number-one client was at the number-two agent’s office might cause some stress.
My dad put his hand to his forehead. “I still haven’t told Maude about your mom.”
“Go call her and fill her in. I’ll stay here in case the paramedics arrive before you’re back.”
“Thanks.” He walked outside.
I checked Lou’s pulse again. Thready but there. I was slightly disappointed for a very selfish reason. If he was dead, I could use my skills to bring him back and find out what had happened.
Not that I thought there was foul play involved. But then again, my mother had just gone missing, he was our number one suspect, and now, right before we were set to talk to him, he was having a major medical emergency?
Life had taught me that there was rarely any such thing as coincidence. Especially in a case like this.
My dad came back to say he’d squared things with Maude just as the paramedics arrived. We got out of the way and let them do their thing. They asked us a few questions but thankfully, nothing too deep. They were emergency services, not cops.
While we waited, I looked around to see what kind of security the strip mall had. Not much. Maybe because of its age, maybe because the landlord didn’t want to spring for the tech. But there were no cameras that I could see.
That was disappointing but about what I’d expected.
Lou left on a stretcher, in the back of an ambulance. They’d hooked him up to an IV and oxygen, but he didn’t look any better than he had when we’d arrived.
I hated to be pessimistic, but if Lou was the one who’d abducted my mom, things had just gone from bad to worse.
We headed back to the house.
My dad turned in his seat toward me. “You think we should go by his house? See…what we can see?”
“Jayne wanted to do the same thing last night, and I wouldn’t let her. There’s no way to get past the guard at the gate, but her idea was to climb up on top of the RV and jump down over the wall.”
“I like that girl.”
“Dad, that was a terrible idea.”
“Head for his house.”
“How are we going to get into the community without him to tell the guard we’re there to see him?”
My father’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been living in the North Pole too long. All that cold has frozen your mind.”
I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but I drove to Lou’s anyway. As we got closer to Lou’s neighborhood, the air in the SUV shimmered with magic.
I kept my eyes on road so I didn’t miss the turn. “What are you up to?”
“Just smile at the guard if he says anything to you.”
The guard shack was just ahead. I looked over at my dad. “Why? What are you—hey.” He looked exactly like Lou. I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror. He’d turned me into a hot, busty blonde. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“It’s just until we get inside. Now put the window down and let me do the talking.”
I did as he asked, slowing as we reached the guard shack. The guard got off his chair and came to greet us.
My dad leaned closer to my open window. “What do you think of my new car?” He grinned wider. “And my new driver?”
“Afternoon, Mr. Scholtz. Looking good.” The guard smiled at my dad, but his gaze immediately went to my imaginary bustline. If only he knew.
“Can you buzz us in?” my dad asked. “I don’t have a clicker in this car.”
“No problem.” The guard reached over and pressed a button. The gate started rolling back. “Have a good day.”
“You too.” My dad straightened and gave the guard a wave.
I put the window up as I drove forward. “I don’t even know what to say about that except make me me again, please.”
“Not until we get into the house. Can’t have the neighbors thinking we’re breaking in.”
He was right, of course. That didn’t make me like my new look any more.
Chapter Twenty
Sinclair
Getting into the house was a no bigger deal than getting into the neighborhood had been. My dad’s magic took care of that, too. A little conjuring, and the lock was turned. Honestly, it was a good thing he hadn’t chosen a life of crime, because he’d have been a very successful criminal.
Lou’s house was nice. I’d expected gaudy, but it wasn’t. Lots of creams and beiges and whites except for the pops of color in the modern art that adorned the walls. It was restrained in a way that made me see him a little differently. Like he was more than he seemed to be.
My dad stared up at one of the largest pieces. “That’s a Damien Hirst.”
“Looks like multicolor dots on a canvas to me. Let’s just check the house for clues and any sign Mom’s been here, then get out.”
He turned his head. “Son, if Lou can afford a $30,000 painting, why would he be involved in this abduction scheme?”