Kincaid stood, walked to the fireplace, giving Sara a moment to collect herself. What had caused her sister to react with such an outburst? Apparently, Meg felt that Sara still owed her for all those years she lived here. Finally he turned. “I guess I didn’t ask how you and your sister get along.”
She shook her head. “Fairly well, I thought, until now. I…she’s always had a sharp tongue, but she’s never been quite so mean-spirited.”
“Sounds like she’s envious of your relationship with her son.”
Sara rose, brushing back her hair. “I suppose she’s got a point. I do spoil Mike. He’s such a good kid, so smart. I reward him for good grades, for making the swim team. I take him to ball games, out to dinner, hiking and camping, bought him a ten-speed bike, things like that. I promised I’d take him to Disneyland this summer. Meg is too thrifty to do anything frivolous or fun, so I take up the slack. Still, I had no idea she felt such animosity toward me.”
“She also skirted the original question you asked her about how she and Lenny get along. Do you think they do a fair amount of fighting where Mike can overhear them?”
There was no use evading this any longer. “Probably. They certainly did when I lived here.”
Which was likely the real reason Sara had moved out. “Let’s try a scenario on for size,” Kincaid said, leading her outside. “Let’s assume that Meg and Lenny had a quarrel that Mike overheard. Perhaps the boy was upset, so Lenny decided to take him on that surprise trip, maybe while Meg left to run errands. Maybe Lenny wanted to worry her so she’d stop picking on him.” They reached his silver Explorer, and Kincaid turned to face her. “And maybe he intends to return after he thinks she’s learned her lesson.”
“Or maybe not,” Sara said, unconvinced. “Look, I don’t think Lenny wants to leave the Golden Goose. With the police department, he’s got a real job with potential, for a change, but obviously he hasn’t worked very hard to keep it or he wouldn’t have gotten suspended. He’s got it pretty good over here, so I’m not sure he’d risk getting Meg too angry.”
“Because she controls the money?”
Squinting in the glare, Sara slipped on her sunglasses. “Oh, yes. She’s told me she has him give her his entire paycheck, such as it is, then takes care of all the bills and gives him a monthly allowance, if you can believe it. If he runs out of money before the month ends, too bad. She used to give me an allowance when I lived with them, before I got a job and before I came into my own inheritance. I don’t know if she’s afraid the money will run out or whether it’s a means of control.”
“I vote for door number two.” Kincaid helped her into the Explorer before walking around and sliding behind the wheel.
“I just remembered,” Sara began, “Lenny came to me several weeks ago and wanted to borrow some money. Twenty thousand. I asked him why he wanted that much, and he said it was for some kind of investment opportunity, a sure thing. I’ve never trusted that sort of thing, so I turned him down and told him to ask Meg for the money. He said no, he couldn’t do that, and asked me not to mention his request to his wife.”
“Did you tell Meg?”
“No.”
“It seems as if we’ve discovered a motive for Lenny’s disappearance—to get away from a nagging, frugal wife. But why take the boy?”
“That’s what bothers me. I don’t buy this father-son quality time Meg mentioned. Lenny was hardly a hands-on father except when it suited him.” Leaning back, Sara closed her eyes. What a mess. She wished Lenny was here right now so she could punch him for using Mike to play games.
Rubbing her forehead, where a headache was beginning, she felt defeated. “I guess you’ll chalk this up as another domestic feud, eh?”
He probably should, Kincaid knew. But a couple of things worried him. First, the boy’s mother didn’t seem nearly as upset over her son’s disappearance as his aunt was. Instead Meg was vague and defensive, downright belligerent to the people who were trying to help her. Secondly, Sara Morgan didn’t strike him as someone who’d blow a situation out of proportion. She seemed genuinely worried.
Maybe it would turn out to be a wild-goose chase. Despite his reluctance, if there was the slightest chance that the smiling boy was in danger, Kincaid felt he should try. After all, he did have the time.
“Not just yet.” He started the motor. “I’d like to talk with Lenny’s superior officer at the Mesa Police Department first. Want to come along?”
Hope flared in her just that easily. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
For the life of him, Kincaid didn’t know what impulse made him ask her along. Could it be those big blue eyes imploring him?
Lieutenant James Anderson was a stocky, ruddy-faced man in shirtsleeves and paisley suspenders. He looked at Kincaid’s ID and quickly ushered them into his office, closing the door.
“I’ve heard of you, Detective Kincaid. You do good work.” Anderson sat down in his swivel chair. “I was sorry to hear about that case where—”
“Thank you,” Kincaid interrupted quickly. He had no intention of going into that.
“What can I do for you?”
He introduced Sara. “Her sister, Meg, is married to Lenny Nelson. I believe he works out of this precinct?”
The chair squeaked in protest as the big man leaned back. “Used to. He’s on suspension.”
“So I heard, for improprieties, I understand. Could you be more specific, sir?”
The lieutenant’s hooded eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”
Quickly Kincaid explained the major points. “Naturally, we respect the confidentiality of the people involved, but I need to know if Lenny Nelson could pose a danger to his son. As I mentioned, they’ve been gone for several days, and no one knows their whereabouts, not even the boy’s mother.”
Anderson frowned as he shifted forward and checked a folder. “Nelson’s supposed to appear next Monday for an internal affairs hearing.” He sat for a moment, thoughtful. “I assume this goes no further?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Nelson’s facing allegations that he stole property from the evidence room and sold it. All from old, unsolved cases, mostly forgotten, growing dusty in bins. Been going on awhile, from what we’ve determined so far.”
A man apparently in need of money for whatever purpose, unable to pry more loose from his tight-fisted wife, probably not earning a great deal, stealing and fencing, facing a likely indictment, Kincaid enumerated to himself. That kind of man could be desperate, volatile, unpredictable.
And he was off somewhere with an innocent twelve-year-old boy.
He glanced at Sara and saw she’d turned pale as she, too, had come to the same conclusion.
“And if Lenny doesn’t show up for his hearing?” Sara asked.
“We’ll get a judge to issue a bench warrant for his arrest,” Anderson said.
“Thank you, sir,” Kincaid said, rising and shaking hands. Hand on her elbow, he led Sara out of the office. Walking near the bull pen, he spotted a desk with Lenny’s name on it, although another uniformed officer was sitting there.
On a hunch he stopped. “Excuse me, but are you a friend of Lenny Nelson?” he asked.
The dark-haired officer stopped typing on the computer. “You could say that.”
Kincaid introduced himself and Sara. She saw the flicker of recognition on the man’s face, the sudden respect as he heard Kincaid’s name. Was there anyone in the state who hadn’t heard of this man?