Hitched Read online

  34

  As Jack sped up the FDR Drive, Cindy clenched her fists and stared out the window at the dark waters of the East River. She’d read stories about people who were out for the night, drank too much, and ended up slipping or being pushed into the river’s punishing currents. Not Joyce, she thought, please, not Joyce. “It’s just not like her to leave without saying good-bye,” Cindy blurted out. “She’s quiet and considerate.”

  Regan turned around to face Kit and Cindy, who were both in the backseat. “There could be an explanation for this, Cindy,” she said calmly. “People who we are convinced would never act a certain way often surprise us. And she had been drinking. Let’s hope Joyce ended up at another club and is now asleep at home.”

  “But she’s still not answering her phone…” Cindy said, her voice trailing off.

  Jack had radioed the central dispatcher, who sent out a bulletin that patrol cars in Manhattan, particularly downtown, should be on the alert for a petite twenty-seven-year-old woman with light brown hair and green eyes, last seen wearing blue jeans and a black jacket. Of course that description could fit any number of young women out on Saturday night in New York City. Because she wasn’t considered a missing person yet, it was an unofficial alert. Someone from Jack’s office was calling the area hospitals to see if she had been taken to an emergency room.

  They crossed the Triboro Bridge into Queens and a few minutes later were driving down a block of small, two-family houses. As far as the eye could see, every parking spot was taken. “It’s the third house on the left,” Cindy said.

  Jack stopped in front of Joyce’s house. There were no lights on. The carful of bachelorettes pulled up behind them.

  “Cindy, I think you should go knock on the door,” Jack advised. “Joyce is a grown woman and has a right to her privacy. If she’s there, she doesn’t need to have a crowd of people standing on her doorstep in the middle of the night.”

  Wordlessly, Cindy got out of the car and hurried up the steps. She rang the bell and waited. She knocked on the door several times. Then she held her hand on the bell so it rang continuously—making enough noise to wake the dead.

  But there was no response.

  Cindy hurried back down the steps, shaking her head. “She used to leave a key hidden by the back door. Let’s go see if it’s still there.”

  “I don’t have the authority to go into her house,” Jack said. “As a member of the NYPD, I’d be violating her rights.”

  “I wouldn’t be violating her rights,” Cindy said, her voice breaking. “Joyce once called and asked me to feed her parrot when she stayed at her mother’s longer than expected. She knows where I keep my extra key, and I know where her key is hidden. We’re friends.” She paused. “But I don’t want to go in there alone. Regan, would you please come with me?”

  Regan knew that it would be fine for her to go inside the apartment. She was a private citizen. “Of course I’ll go with you,” she said as she reached for the door.

  Jack grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Be careful.”

  “I will.” Regan got out and followed Cindy across the tiny yard and around to the back door. The light of a small television glowed through the kitchen window.

  “The television’s on! Maybe she’s asleep,” Regan said hopefully.

  “She always keeps the television on for her parrot when no one is home.”

  Everyone wants company, Regan thought, wondering what channel the parrot liked to watch.

  “I hope the key is still here,” Cindy said as she bent over and picked up a loose slate from the small stone patio outside Joyce’s door. “It is!” she said excitedly. She pulled the single key out of the dirt, straightened up, and waved her fist.

  Regan’s mind went back to the security tape she had viewed in Atlantic City—the guy bending over and picking something up off the ground. But he didn’t wave his hand in victory. He hurried off, trying to avoid notice.

  Cindy inserted the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

  “Hello!” the parrot cried. “Hello!”

  “Hello, Romeo,” Cindy said as she flicked on the light. “The poor thing was probably going crazy with me ringing the phone all night and then the bell.”

  Especially when he’s trying to watch the tube, Regan thought. A black-and-white movie that looked like it was made in the 1940s was playing on the screen. “Let’s take a quick look around and make sure Joyce is not here sleeping.”

  “Okay.”

  They went into the small but cozy living room and turned on a light, then walked down the hall. As they both expected, the bedroom was empty. Regan turned on the light in the bathroom. Everything felt so still and quiet. She didn’t step inside, didn’t want to intrude on Joyce’s space. At least not yet. And I hope I don’t have to, she thought, as she flicked off the light.

  The bloody napkins in the garbage can went undetected.

  Back in the kitchen, Cindy and Regan looked at the list of names and numbers pinned to a small bulletin board next to the phone.

  “Francis is her boyfriend,” Cindy said. “He lives here with her.”

  “And he went out of town with a friend?”

  Cindy nodded.

  “Do you know where they went?”

  “No. I don’t think Joyce wanted to talk about it. She was vague. Said something about a boys’ night out.”

  Regan sighed, staring at Francis’s cell phone number. “The problem is,” she said, “if Joyce is out with someone else right now, I’m sure she wouldn’t want her boyfriend to find out. Especially like this.”

  Cindy shook her head emphatically. “I don’t believe she’s out with anyone, Regan. And if she is, then Francis better learn that he can’t leave Joyce alone on a weekend and expect her to sit around waiting for him. Who knows what he’s up to? If you don’t feel right about calling him, I will.”

  “Until she’s considered a missing person, you should be the one to make the call,” Regan advised. “You’re her friend. You have the right to look out for her. I will help you in any way I can. Then if she’s not back by tomorrow—”

  “Don’t even say it,” Cindy interrupted. “I understand you want to protect Joyce. But believe me, she is in danger right now. Something went wrong, I know it.” She picked up the phone and dialed.

  Francis’s voice mail picked up. “Hey, this is Francis. Leave a message.”

  “Francis,” Cindy said. “This is Cindy. Please call me. It’s about Joyce. Have you heard from her? We went out tonight, and I don’t know where she is.” She gave her cell number and hung up. “I wonder why he isn’t answering at three o’clock in the morning.”

  “Lazy bums!” the parrot cried. “Lazy bums.”

  Regan looked quizzically at the bird cage. “What ever happened to ‘Polly want a cracker?’ ”

  “That parrot is something else. The only person that parrot likes is Joyce,” Cindy said. “Everyone else gets on his nerves.”

  “I read somewhere that parrots mate for life,” Regan mused. “As pets they get attached to one person and that’s it.”

  “I wish one of the guys I dated felt that way,” Cindy grumbled as she stared at the list of names. “Joyce’s mother is on a cruise in Europe. She lives out on the north fork of Long Island.” Cindy managed a smile. “She was here a couple weeks ago but had to leave her two dogs in the car because Francis is allergic to them. It makes her nuts. She told Francis his allergies are all in his head.”

  “Nice,” Regan said. “My mother and I are both allergic to dogs. It’s no joke. It doesn’t mean we don’t like them. Where is Joyce’s father?”

  “Good question. He split years ago.”

  “Does Joyce have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. She’s an only child.”

  Like me, Regan thought.

  “Joyce says that’s why she is so attached to animals. They were her companions growing up, especially dogs.”

  “But now she can’t have them becaus
e of Francis.”

  Joyce rolled her eyes. “That’s right.”

  “She must be in love,” Regan said.

  “Who knows? I have the feeling that things aren’t so wonderful lately. The friend Francis is out with has been staying with them for a couple months. Now they’re out without her on a Saturday night.”

  Regan sighed. “I don’t think there’s much more we can do right now, Cindy. Except wait.”

  “I know you have to get back. I’m going to stay here. I’ll just stretch out on the couch. I doubt I’ll sleep but I want to be here if she gets home.”

  “Do you want to ask one of your friends to join you?”

  Cindy shook her head. “No. None of the others know Joyce. I’ll be fine by myself.”

  Regan put her hand on Cindy’s arm. “The police are looking for her. Try to get some rest. I’m staying at my parents’ in the city tonight.” She pulled her business card out of her pocket. “Call me the minute you hear something. We’re going on a morning show in a few hours about our stolen wedding dresses.”

  “Brianne was so excited about that.” Cindy paused. “If Joyce isn’t back yet, would you be able to mention it on the show?”

  Regan shook her head. “I don’t think so, Cindy. If she didn’t come home tonight because she’s met a new guy, it could be very embarrassing for her to have been discussed on national television. Now, if by tomorrow afternoon she hasn’t returned…” Regan shrugged.

  “I understand. I’m just so worried.”

  “I know.”

  “Joyce!” Romeo cried. “Joyce!”

  Cindy walked over to the cage. “He misses her.” She stuck her fingers through the bars to pet the parrot. Romeo quickly bent over and tried to bite her. Cindy yanked her hand back, inadvertently opening the cage door. The parrot grabbed his chance for freedom and flew the coop.

  “Hello!” he cried as he sailed past Regan, heading for the living room. “Pretty girl!”

  I like that bird, Regan thought as she followed Cindy into the living room. Romeo was having a grand time, flapping his wings and circling the room.

  “Come on, Romeo!” Cindy cried. “Come on.”

  He swooped down onto the floor behind the couch where Marco’s belongings had been piling up for the last couple of months. Cindy kneeled on the couch, bent over, and grabbed the energetic bird. Something shiny was hanging from his beak. Still bent over, she pulled the metal object out and tossed it back onto one of Marco’s bags. Straightening up, she turned to Regan who was looking around the room. “I’ll get him back in his cage.”

  “Okay. I’ll head outside.”

  Cindy couldn’t have possibly guessed that the object she tossed aside so casually was actually something quite significant.

  Alfred’s keys.

  35

  As Jack, Regan, and Kit drove back into Manhattan, the light of the new day was starting to make its appearance. Streaks of red and blue filled the sky.

  “I’d love to grab a steak at Elaine’s, but by now even they’ve rolled up the carpet,” Regan said, referring to Elaine Kaufman’s legendary restaurant on the Upper East Side that had been open until four in the morning for the last forty years. “I suppose it will be good to get a couple of hours sleep before going on national television.”

  “What are you going to wear?” Kit asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to see what I have in the closet at my parents’ apartment,” Regan answered. “It’s hard to believe that when we started this day we thought we’d be asleep in bed in New Jersey right now.”

  “You called your mother to tell her about the show, didn’t you?” asked Jack.

  “Yes. She’d love for us to drive out there tomorrow for brunch. Obviously she doesn’t know about the missing Joyce yet.”

  Jack sighed. “We’ll have to see what develops.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll watch the show from the comfort of bed,” Kit said.

  “I don’t blame you,” Regan answered. They were now driving along Central Park South toward the Reillys’ apartment building. “It seems to me that there’s no quieter time in Manhattan than Sunday morning at dawn.”

  “The crowds have gone home,” Jack said.

  “Except for Joyce,” Regan said quietly.

  Jack pulled into the driveway. The second the car stopped Kit jumped out of the back. “See you later, Jack,” she said wearily.

  “Good night, Kit.” Jack put his arms around Regan and held her close. “I love you, my crazy April Bride,” he said.

  “I love you, too.” They kissed, and after a moment Regan turned to go. Then she turned back and kissed Jack again. “Are we really getting married next Saturday?”

  Jack smiled. “That’s the plan.”

  “And miles to go before we wed.”

  “That’s what it feels like.” Jack looked at her tenderly and smoothed her hair. “I can’t wait for our honeymoon. I can’t wait until we’re on that plane and on our way. Just the two of us…finally.”

  “Just the two of us,” Regan said softly. “But first we’re going to have a great time at our wedding with our family and friends. No matter what I end up wearing.”

  Jack laughed. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll pick you up at seven forty-five.”

  Upstairs Kit was already out cold in Regan’s room. Regan crashed on her parents’ bed. She set the alarm for seven o’clock, closed her eyes, and immediately lost consciousness.

  36

  “Francis, wake up!” Marco yelled. “You’ve got to drive. I can’t keep my eyes open.” He pulled into a service area. Marco tugged on Francis’s shoulder. “Wake up!”

  Francis blinked his eyes open. He had been hoping this was all a bad dream. It wasn’t. Marco was a mere foot away, and by this time neither one of them was a pretty sight. “Where are we?”

  “Pennsylvania.”

  “We haven’t even hit the Midwest yet.”

  “We’re making progress.”

  “I need caffeine.”

  “Go get it. I have to go to the bathroom.”

  In the coffee shop, Francis bought a large cup of joe and a couple of jelly donuts. He brought his purchases back to the car. Marco was already asleep in the backseat, drool dripping out of the side of his mouth. Even when he’s sleeping, he looks like he’s up to no good, Francis thought.

  A moment later, Francis pulled out onto the highway. Marco’s cell phone was in the well next to the driver’s seat. I’ll call Joyce again in a few hours, he thought. Hopefully, she’s sleeping and when she wakes up she won’t be mad at me.

  But deep down he knew that his goose was cooked.

  37

  Regan’s alarm went off when it was supposed to. Seven o’clock. Forcing herself to get right out of bed, she headed straight for the shower. The hot water on her shoulders felt so good. She washed her hair and hurried out across the hallway to her bedroom on the other side of the apartment. She tiptoed in. Kit was fast asleep. What a weekend she’s had, Regan thought. I hope she hits it off with one of Jack’s friends at the wedding.

  Kit had even joked about inviting Tracy’s ex. Jeffrey Woodall turned out to be an even bigger jerk than Regan could have imagined. Who was the girl he’d taken up with?

  Regan pulled a pair of dark pants, a raspberry-colored cashmere sweater, and black jacket out of the closet. She fished around and found a pair of high-heeled boots.

  At seven forty-five, she was combing her hair when the buzzer sounded from downstairs.

  Regan answered. “I’ll be right down.”

  Jack and Regan drove through the wonderfully quiet streets to the studio of Tiger News on the far west side of Manhattan by the Hudson River. Tiger was a new cable network and they were getting great ratings. Their popular Sunday morning show was a mix of news, entertainment, sports, and chat.

  Alfred and Charisse were already in the greenroom drinking coffee and looking fresh as daisies when Regan and Jack arrived.

  “Regan
, darling!” Alfred exclaimed, giving her a big kiss.

  He’s thrilled with all this, Regan thought. I guess any publicity is good publicity. “Are you ready for your close-up?” she asked.

  Alfred laughed. “We are indeed. We got here early. They’ve already done Charisse’s makeup and powdered my nose. Oh my. I just have one little thing to tell you.”

  Regan paused. “What?”

  “I gather you haven’t seen the New York Post this morning?”

  “Not yet.”

  Alfred picked a copy of the paper off the chair and held it up. WEDDING DRESS BLUES the headline screamed.

  Regan took the newspaper from his hands. A picture of Alfred and Charisse staring forlornly at Brianne’s shredded dress took up half the front page with instructions for the reader to turn to Page 3 for the full details. Regan did so. Another headline screamed ROBBERY AT ALFRED AND CHARISSE’S COUTURE SALON TURNS FIVE APRIL BRIDES INTO MODERN DAY CINDERELLAS.

  “Cinderellas?” Jack said in a stunned tone.

  “She had nothing to wear to the ball,” Regan muttered.

  The article began:

  You thought Cinderella had problems? Minutes before the Prince’s big ball she was sartorially challenged. Luckily, her fairy godmother showed up with a gorgeous gown that fit perfectly. How would you like to be a bride about to be married in the next few weeks only to discover that the dress of your dreams has been stolen or shredded? Downtown designers Alfred and Charisse were the victims of a brazen robbery at 3:00 A.M. Saturday but insist that they will act as fairy godmothers and make new dresses in time for the following brides’ big day…

  “They list all the names!” Regan gasped.

  “It’s unfortunate,” Alfred said, as he sipped his coffee.

  “How did they get the names? You knew that Tracy, Victoria, and Shauna didn’t want their names mentioned. Especially Tracy.”