Page 14 of Cougar Point

“No, Megan. I don’t think I can do this without you. If anyone can find Mom, it will be you.”

“I was kidding. You couldn’t get rid of me with a cattle prod. But you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re the best detective I’ve ever met.”Besides me.

In the kitchen Rebecca is starting an espresso machine. I’ve got to get one of those. And then learn how to use it.

“Sis says you like yours extra strong.”

“I like it to walk on water,” I say, and Rebecca giggles. Honest to God. She giggles just like Ronnie. It must be genetic.

“Sis said you were funny.”

“What else did she say? And remember, I’m armed.” I put my hand on my gun.

She doesn’t even smile. I don’t suppose much laughing goes on here. Rebecca hasn’t told her dad she called us so I wonder if he’ll laugh or scream. He’s a father, but he’s an attorney. I don’t generally like attorneys. After I taste the espresso I’ll decide if I like Rebecca.

“She said you would listen and tell us what you think, Megan.”

Down to business. “You talk and I’ll listen.”

“Find a seat. Cream or sugar, Megan?”

“Surprise me.” I sit and wait until she gets her own espresso just right, which reminds me of people in Starbucks. I go in Starbucks to get a cup of regular coffee, and it never fails the person in front of me orders a string of ingredients that will take a supercomputer to figure out. There should be a line for “just coffee” customers and a “high-maintenance buffet” for the others.

Rebecca gathers her thoughts. Their dad is wanting to avoid embarrassment, which tells me their mom may not be missing-missing, as in kidnapped or tied to the train tracks, but rather, she’s gone off on her own. But I never rule out foul play.

Ronnie and I have just worked a missing persons case, a mother and son, where the prime suspect was the estranged husband. He had a mistress who ran a close second, but she was eventually cleared of the kidnapping when her head was blown off by the real kidnapper. In that case there was money involved, and betrayal, and sex, and hatred, and love. All the ingredients for a messy investigation. But in reality, in nine out of tenmissing person cases, the missing person comes home on their own. That means one out of ten never come home, or if they do, it’s in a zipper bag. For Ronnie’s sake I hope her mother is one of the nine.

THIRTEEN

Rebecca blows over the top of the steaming espresso and gazes across the bay. The view is astounding and I have to tear my eyes away to listen more closely. “Mom was being Mom. She needed a getaway at our resort and insisted I come with her. We had dinner and went to her room where a bottle of chilled champagne was waiting. She moped during dinner, and I had the feeling she wanted to tell me something. We sat on the veranda and drank the entire bottle.” A look passes between the sisters. “I asked what was bothering her, and she said she just wanted to have a pleasant evening and we would talk about it in the morning. We agreed to meet for breakfast and go for a walk. I got up early but she hadn’t come down, so I went out to watch the sunrise. I knew she would be along when she woke up. I fell asleep and it was noon before one of the resort staff woke me and said I had a note at the front desk.”

Rebecca puts a scribbled note on the table. Three words.

you promised dinky

The writing was either from a five-year-old or deliberately made-up. The sisters exchange another look, and Ronnie uses a napkin to pick it up for closer examination.

I ask, “Who’s Dinky?” They shake their heads and once again I see the close resemblance. Not just in appearance but in the way they move and their facial expressions.

Rebecca says, “Roger showed it to me around noon on Saturday. Roger’s the manager at Semiahmoo Resort. The note was found outside Mom’s door. It wasn’t there when I left her the night before but I couldn’t swear it was or wasn’t there when I went down to sunbathe. I went down the stairs at the far end of the hall and wouldn’t have passed by Mom’s room. We were supposed to be staying until Monday.”

“Who found the note?”

“The night manager, I think. The general manager, Roger, was on the front desk when I came in to get the message.”

“Did you talk to the night manager, sis?” Ronnie asks.

“The night manager was already gone but Roger said he hadn’t seen Mom come down for breakfast, and when he didn’t see her around lunchtime, he remembered the note and thought it might be important. I went to her room, checked the café and then out on the deck to see if we had just passed each other. She hadn’t left a message for me so I went back to the room to see if she had left a note there. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have left on her own because we were in my car.”

Your mom could have gotten a ride, or called a Lyft. I ask, “What did you do then?”

“I tried calling her phone and left voicemails. I finally called my dad to see if she was home. He thought she was with me.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Dad said not to panic. He was sure she would show up and would be embarrassed if the police were looking for her.”

Ronnie says, “But you called them anyway.”

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