Page 20 of Alex Cross Must Die

“Addilyn,” Marple said gently, “have you contacted the police?”

“Dear Lord, no!” said Addilyn. “Kidnappers always say not to callthe police. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what they always say? No police. That’s why I called you. Promise me you won’t call the police!”

Poe noticed that, upset as she was, Addilyn was still well put together. She was wearing an expensive silk dress and high heels. A string of pearls circled her neck, which was impressively smooth compared to her hands. Brazilian work, Poe surmised. And from the degree of skin tension below the ears, recent. Her makeup was impeccable, but there were small mascara smears under both eyes.

“Tell us exactly what happened, Addilyn,” said Poe.

Addilyn kept pacing as she talked, her phrases broken by short anxious breaths.

“They just—disappeared! I had dinner with both of them—my husband and daughter—last night at eight. I went to bed early. When I woke up this morning, they weregone.”

“What makes you think they were kidnapped?” asked Holmes.

“What else could it be?” said Addilyn. “My husband would never be away this long without telling me where he was. Neither would my daughter.”

“Was there a note?” asked Poe. “Any signs of a break-in?”

“None,” said Addilyn. “We have an alarm system, of course. But there was no sound. Not a peep.”

“You’ve tried their phones?”

Addilyn nodded. “Of course. No answer from either of them. That never happens.”

“How old is your daughter?” asked Poe.

“She’s eighteen. Her name is Zozi. Zozi Turner.”

“And her father?”

“Her father died almost fifteen years ago,” Addilyn said. “Zozi is the child of my first marriage. Eton is my second husband. We’ve been married for ten years.”

“Did Eton adopt your daughter?” asked Poe.

“No,” said Addilyn. “Eton said he could never adopt another man’s child. But we’re a family. They get along fine. We’ve made it work.” At that point, her whole body appeared to cave in a bit. “You have to find them. Youhaveto. They’re all I’ve got.”

Poe started a new line of questioning. “Have there been any—”

“He has enemies!” Addilyn burst out. “My husband. He does business in China, Korea, South America. It could be one of those drug gangs. Those …cartels.”

Poe glanced at Holmes. Drugs always complicated things. Made people more ruthless. If this was revenge or leverage for some kind of illicit deal, things could get very ugly.

“Is there anything else missing?” asked Holmes, switching to a new path.

“Yes,” Addilyn said softly. “The dog.”

“The dog?” asked Marple.

“Toby,” said Addilyn. “Zozi’s dog. He’s an English mastiff. Whoever took Zozi took Toby too. Or killed him, probably. He would have defended Zozi. I know that. She and that dog are inseparable. I’ve always been a bit twitchy around him, to be honest. So strong. He could knock you over in a heartbeat.”

Poe glanced toward the hallway off the living room. “Do you mind if Mr. Holmes and I poke around a bit?” he asked.

“Not at all,” said Addilyn. “But there’s nothing amiss. I’ve already looked. Everything is just as it was.”

“Fresh eyes,” said Holmes. “You never know.”

Poe watched as Marple touched Addilyn’s shoulder and gestured toward a sofa. “Shall we sit?”

Addilyn perched primly on the edge of the cushion and smoothed her dress. Her hands twitched nervously.

---