Chapter 6
Link
I open the station wagon’s driver door for Cassie, and she steps out with an annoyed look.
"I can't believe the handle broke. We need to take this to the mechanic right away. When this case is over, we're getting a new car." She gives the driver's door a little shove.
The handle broke this morning, which means the driver's side can only be opened from the outside. I’ve taken it as a challenge to make it over to her door before she can roll down the window and open it. Her independence doesn’t allow her to enjoy such a gesture outwardly. But deep down, it is nice to be the one doting on her for once.
"So, you really want to retrace every step she took?" I ask, offering my arm in an old-fashioned way, which she turns down with a roll of her eyes.
It wasn't a complete waste of time, but it has been a while since Anita went missing.
"I'm not sure there will be anything useful left at the airport." My mind is with Phineas, trying to figure out what angle he’s working. The longer I’m in the dark, the harder it is.
"You never know who she talked to, where she went, or what happened. I figured we can ask around and see if anybody saw her." Cassie is watching me as if I’ve grown an extra head. “What happened to good old detective work?”
"Do you honestly think anyone at this airport will remember her?" I ask. “Think of how many people go through here daily, then multiply that by seven.” I’m not trying to be difficult; I’m just trying not to waste valuable time.
“It's a possibility. Some people are more memorable than others. Here.” She hands me a printed photo of Anita. She reminds me of what a grown-up geek might look like in a movie, with brown hair in a messy bun and bright red glasses perched on a thin nose. A bright smile lights up her face, finishing the look of a happy-go-lucky woman content with life. “Don't you think you'd remember her if you saw her?”
“Maybe.” I would remember her if I saw her. Cassie smiles triumphantly.
“How about we turn this into a friendly competition?” I suggest. “We will meet back here in an hour, and whoever has the most information about Anita wins.”
If we are going to waste our time in a crowded airport, at least we could make it a bit more exciting and add something to lose.
She pauses, her finger on her chin as she thinks it over. I notice how she’s braided her hair into two braids that fall over her shoulders and reflect the sunlight. Goodness, I’m staring again.
"All right, I accept your challenge." Her face lights up with the cutest smile, and my heart jumps.
I would never back down from a competition, especially with Cassie. We both have that drive to win, and after she beat me last time, I need some redemption. That’s why I made this a competition—not because I like it when it feels like we’re hanging out instead of working.
She quickens her pace, and I have difficulty keeping up, though I'm not about to show it. My leg has been improving a little every day, but sometimes, when I'm too vigorous, a shot of pain reminds me I have to take it easy despite wanting to face everything head-on.
"Wait, what does the winner get?" Cassie asks, reaching the door first and holding it open for me.
"I don't know. What do you want?" I waggle my eyebrows, and her cheeks burn red.
"You take me to dinner," Cassie says. "I mean, like, to eat at the end of the day. Not dinner-dinner." She’s flustered, and it’s not something I’m proud of, but I like it.
"I get what you mean." I shake my head. "Okay, if I win, we get rid of the new computer system."
"No, I do not agree to those terms. Pick something else." She stops and waits for me to agree.
"Okay, fine. I had to try.”
I pause to think. I want her to go on an actual date with me, but I'm not about to ask for that.
"Fine, if I win, you don't ask about Phineas until I'm ready to tell you. All right? "
She hesitates, and her expression turns serious before she gives a curt little nod. "Fine."
"It's settled then. Ladies first. I'll give you a five-minute head start."
She takes off to the left, and I take the right. The most logical place to start is with the counter agents. We know from Meredith's information about which airline she flew with. I head toward those counters and find one of the agents. She's a young woman around Cassie's age who looks bored with her job as she checks in one passenger after another. By the time I make it up to the counter, there's no one left in line behind me.
“How can I help you this afternoon?” she asks with fake politeness. Her voice is monotone and uninterested. She’s not the type to notice people, and I wonder if it’s a waste of time to even ask her.
“I was just wondering if you saw this woman about a week ago," I ask, holding up the picture.
She takes a good look at it. “No, I can't say that I have. Why? Who is she?”
“She's a traveler who went on your airline, and she's currently missing. We're looking for anyone with information—if they saw her that day, who she was with, or where she went.”
I pull out one of the business cards Quinn printed and circle my number on the front. “Feel free to call me if you remember anything or can think of anyone who might.”
She nods and takes the card, then stuffs it in her uniform's front pocket. Chances are, I just wasted the fifteen cents it cost to print the business card.
I move on from one attendant to the next. I even ask passersby if they've seen the woman in the picture. They stop and look before shaking their heads in disappointment. When I check my watch to see I’ve only got fifteen minutes left, I start to get desperate.
Surely, Cassie hasn't found any information, but with her resilience, I can't risk returning completely empty-handed.
I’m heading back to our meeting spot when I spot a coffee shop on my left. I turn off toward the coffee shop and walk up to the counter. It might take me longer to get back to our meeting spot, and I might even be late, but it doesn’t matter. This is my best and last chance to find some information. I'm thankful it's already eleven and the morning rush is over.
A young man comes up to the cash register. He’s lanky and thin, the typical college kid working a part-time job.
“What can I get for you?” he asks. No one in this airport seems enthusiastic about anything. Perhaps it’s a more boring occupation than people imagine.
“Nothing. I was hoping you could pass this picture to everyone who works here and ask if anyone saw this girl about a week ago. It's important.” He has no idea how important it is to me. If I can win this challenge, it means I avoid Cassie poking into mine and Phineas’s partnership until it's over, and I can come up with a reasonable explanation.
He hesitates before taking the print from me and goes to the back of the shop, where he huddles with the other two baristas for several long moments. Their conversation lasting longer than a yes and no gives me hope. He comes back with a young lady.
“Brenda saw this girl. She stopped and bought a coffee last week. Crazy memory.” He shakes his head and leaves Brenda standing there while returning to work. Brenda stares at me as if I’m an alien and doesn't say a word, forcing me to prompt the information out of her.
“So, you saw this young woman?” I ask, holding up the picture the young man returned to me. She’s wearing the same uniform as the young man—a green apron and hat, and passive hate for her job.
“That's right,” she says.
“Was she doing anything out of the ordinary or with anyone? She disappeared after arriving at this airport, and we're trying to find out what happened to her.” My patience wanes as I wait for something to click for her. Any information at all would be great, or some sign that Brenda does have an incredible memory.
The girl thinks for a moment, and then her eyes widen.
“She was on the phone. She was talking with someone about meeting them, and she sounded upset. From what I heard, it seemed like maybe the other person changed the time they were supposed to meet. She was in a hurry and left a big tip because we made her coffee extra fast. I remember her because she was struggling to carry everything, and she almost forgot her laptop.”
Brenda’s mouth snaps shut, and she stops speaking, as if that was more than she’s said all week, and she’s astounded with herself. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was.
“Thank you. I really appreciate the info. If you remember anything else, would you give me a call? It would help a lot.” I slide another business card across the counter to her, practically giddy .
There's no way Cassie found out more information. I'm betting on it.
Cassie
I'm tapping my foot when Lincoln comes rushing to the car three minutes late. Considering how many people there were in the airport and how hard it was for me to find anything about Anita, I can't imagine he had any more luck.
But I’ve been wrong before, and Lincoln is pretty resourceful, so there’s no way to tell until I hear him out. He comes to a stop right in front of me with a big grin, which can only mean one thing: he has information.
That means it will come down to whose information is more valuable. I want him to take me to dinner, but I also don’t want to be limited on what I can ask, and how much I hold him accountable for his actions. I need to win.
“So,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “Do you want to go first, or should I? I must warn you, I am pretty confident in winning this one.”
I am a woman of my word, and not asking a single question about Phineas’s activities, no matter what I see, terrifies me.
“You go first.” I'm not sure I can take the curiosity of not knowing what he knows.
“Why don't you go first? You know, ladies first.”
“I think I'll pass. You go ahead.” I cross my arms and wait for him to spill.
I listen intently as he tells me how he went to the coffee shop, and I have to admit that was a pretty good idea. I didn’t stop at a single restaurant. Granted, we could spend all day questioning everyone in the airport, so we hopefully gleaned the most critical information. When he finishes with the info Brenda told him, I can't stop my smile from growing.
“There's no way you have better information than that!” He shakes his head, running a hand through his dark brown hair.
“Actually… Anita lost her luggage when she arrived. The flight attendants tried to help her find it, and they talked. She told the flight attendant the name of the man she was meeting. She also told the flight attendant she was upset because he changed times on her. She wondered if this man was lying about what he knew.”
“You got a name?” Lincoln stares at me, his face full of amazement. He shakes his head. “I suppose that means that I'm taking you to dinner.”
I smile triumphantly. “I guess it does. You know where we're going, right? My dad's favorite diner.”
“That makes sense. Technically, we both won, seeing as taking you to dinner isn't really a punishment.”
My cheeks heat at his words. What does he mean?
Lincoln leads the way to the car and reaches my door first. He opens it with one of those pompous grins that makes my heart melt.
“Will you be picking me up tonight or should I?” he asks. Before I can answer, his phone rings and my heart sinks. I can tell by his expression it’s a call he doesn't want to take—Phineas.
He flips it open and presses it to his ear.
He nods. A look of concentration covers his face, making me watch even closer. Lincoln’s secretive nature and hiding things from me during our last case made me push him away. Why does it feel like he is hiding more than ever now?
“I’ll be there.” His low voice pulls me back as he closes the phone and tucks it back in his pocket.
“Who was that?” I ask as soon as he hangs up, even though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. “It was Phineas, wasn't it?”
All of the playfulness from a few minutes ago has vanished.
“Yes, it was.”
I shake my head. He lost our bet fair and square, and I intend to grill him like the private investigator I am.