By the time she shoved pillows aside to sit on the shabby but comfortable couch, Lily had counted five elephants, including the framed print she’d given Beth for Christmas this year. Beth loved elephants. The large, square coffee table was Beth’s contribution, too, though it hadn’t been painted neon pink back when it sat in their mother’s living room. The apartment smelled funny. Not pot, but some kind of incense, she thought.
Rule sat beside her on the couch. Cullen parked his rear on the lone barstool that served as additional seating. Beth paced and talked, clutching her phone in one hand like a security blanket. Hoping he’d call, Lily thought. Hoping it was all a silly mistake. Not believing that, but not willing to put down the phone, either.
“His bike and his car were there, so I checked the windows, but they were all locked. The ones on the ground floor, anyway. I couldn’t get to the upper story.” Beth whirled to face Lily. “What if he’s lying in there, too hurt to answer?” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “The stupid police won’t check!”
She’d cut her hair again just before Christmas, so Lily had seen the current crop already, but the blue streak was new. The spikes were more due to distraction than to make a fashion statement. Beth kept running her hands through it. “They aren’t supposed to break into people’s homes unless the need is immediate and urgent. It’s a house, not an apartment?”
“Yes. Does that matter?”
“Sometimes an apartment manager will open a unit for the police without a warrant. Sean works from home, you said. Does he have a housekeeper?”
“She only comes in twice a week. Today isn’t her day.”
“And he doesn’t have any other employees.”
“I told you I called Carly and John!”
“You didn’t tell me they were his employees. What did they do when they came in to work and Sean wasn’t there?”
“Oh. They didn’t. They’re contract, like me, though they’re more full-time than I am, but they still work from home. See, Sean designs a program’s basic architecture and handles the trickier parts—he’s brilliant, really—and they work on some of the components. He calls me in for the graphics, if they’re needed. That’s what we were to talk about today. I’ve roughed in some possibilities, and we were going to talk about them.”
“I need their phone numbers and full names. Also the names and numbers of anyone else you called or can think of, his address, and the make and model of his car and bike.”
“But his car and motorcycle are still there.”
“Humor me.”
The car was an older Lexus; Beth didn’t know the year, but thought it was at least ten years old. The motorcycle was newer, a black BMW with lots of chrome. Beth didn’t have a clue about the license numbers, but that would be easy to find. She sent Lily Carly’s and John’s contact information, as well as that of the other two people she’d called. She’d also called the hospitals, who hadn’t admitted to having a Sean Friar on their premises. Ditto for the morgue. “You said he referred to your appointment when you saw him last night.”
“Yes, yes. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he said. Shouldn’t you be doing something?”
“I am. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” Beth had insisted she and Sean were not a couple.
“He’s not.”
“You’re sure.”
“We’re friends. He would have told me.”
Lily didn’t doubt Beth believed that. “Do you have a picture of him?”
“Sure.” Beth lifted her phone, touched the screen a few times, and held it out. “This one’s pretty good.”
It was a close-up of a forty-something man with sun-streaked hair and dark eyes. Caucasian, clean-shaven. His nose and his grin were both slightly crooked, lending an appealing asymmetry to otherwise regular features. Lily’s heart sank right down to the pit of her stomach, where it thudded around uncomfortably.
Rule leaned in to look at the small screen. He and Lily exchanged a glance. There’d been a chance, however faint, that Beth’s Sean Friar wasn’t the one Lily had a file on. The photo took away that small hope. “Send it to me, okay?” she said, handing Beth back her phone.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m here on a case, so I can’t—no, wait, don’t explode. I’m taking you seriously, but I can’t drop everything and personally look for him. I’ll put someone on it.”
Beth looked dubious. “You’ve got people you can put on things?”
“Yeah.” Lily pulled out her own phone. “Local FBI, in this case. There’s a chance this is connected to, ah…a Unit matter. I’ll explain that in a minute.” She looked up the number, touched the call button, then glanced at Rule. “One of your people, maybe, for the house?”
He nodded. “We do want to be sure he isn’t there and injured.”
Or dead, but neither of them would mention that possibility in front of Beth.
Cullen spoke for the first time since sitting down. “I’m good with locks.”
Rule stood. “You’re too appealing a target. I’ll talk to Scott. He’ll know who else can handle the lock.”
“I’m faster. Besides, there could be a connection.”
“Target?” Beth said, looking between them. “What do you mean, he’s a target?”
Meanwhile, Lily had identified herself and asked to speak to Special Agent Bergman. She’d already talked to the woman once today, on the flight in. That wasn’t the first time they’d spoken. It was Bergman’s office that’d run the original check on Sean Friar when Lily first crossed paths with his brother, Robert Friar.
Bergman agreed to have someone look into Sean Friar’s apparent disappearance right away. Lily gave her Beth’s number and address verbally; the rest of the info could be sent electronically…in a minute. First she had to do something she dreaded.
Rule stood at the door, talking to Scott. Cullen was still on his stool. Beth was standing bolt still, staring at Cullen.
“What do you mean, someone wants to kidnap you?”
“Or kill me,” Cullen said cheerfully. “We aren’t sure which, but taking me hostage seems more likely.”
“But—but—” She spun to face Lily. “Someone wants to kidnap Cullen and someone already has kidnapped Sean, so—”
“Whoa.” Lily held up both hands. “We don’t know what’s happened with your friend. It’s a huge jump from ‘I don’t know where he is’ to ‘he’s been kidnapped.’ ”
“Did someone try to kidnap Cullen? Is that why you’re here?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would you come here if someone tried to kidnap him back in San Diego?”
“It’s connected to the case.” Lily felt the slow, dull throb of a headache begin. She rubbed her neck. “Beth, I need to tell you some things you won’t like hearing. There’s other stuff I won’t be able to tell you. You won’t like that, either.” She patted the couch. “Sit down and let’s talk.”
Beth didn’t move. “Is this an I’ve-got-bad-news sit down?”
“It’s an I-don’t-want-to-crane-my-neck-watching-you-pace sit down. Come on. Sit.”
Beth scowled, took three steps, and dropped onto the couch. “So talk.”
Lily took a deep breath. “Sean Friar is the brother of a very bad guy named Robert Friar.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Like I didn’t know that.”
Lily couldn’t think of one thing to say.
“Sean and I are friends. Maybe I’d like to be more, but the friend part is for real. Of course he’s told me about his brother. Half brother, really—same mother, different fathers. Robert was adopted by Sean’s father, who was Robert’s stepfather, which is how come they have the same last name.”