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“He’s probably drunk like a skunk and sleeping it off on some bench in Central Park,” said Aunt Ariadne, wiping her hands on her apron. “Typical.”

“Grandpa doesn’t do public intoxication,” said Chase. “So that’s out of the question.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon,” said his mother. “He’s just being secretive. You know your grandfather. He likes to surprise people.”

“I would prefer if he’d just pick up his phone.”

“Can’t pick up the phone when you’re strung out on booze,” said Aunt Ariadne gruffly.

“He’s not a drunk,” Chase insisted. “In fact I’m pretty sure he’s a teetotaler these days.”

“Have you found yourself a nice place to live yet, Chase?” asked his mother.

“Not yet, Mom, but I keep looking and I’ll find something.”

She nodded, darting an anxious glance at Aunt Ariadne. I remembered Chase telling me how he wanted to take care of his mother but wasn’t in a position to do so. For a brief moment I suddenly saw all of us living in my tiny house: me, Chase, his mom, Aunt Ariadne, and my cats. I shivered. It was not a prospect I enjoyed contemplating.

I looked up when Aunt Ariadne plunked a plate of hash browns in front of my nose, stabbed a finger at it, and snapped,“Eat! Put some fat on those skinny bones of yours.”

It was a testament to the force of her personality that I obediently said,“Yes, ma’am,” and dug in.

Chase was shaking with laughter, until his aunt slammed a plate in front of him as well, and grunted,“Eat! I don’t like the sight of you, either. You’ve lost weight.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Chase.

“Yes, you have,” she said, and grabbed his face with one hand, digging her fingers into his cheeks and puffing up his lips. “Right here. These lines weren’t there last time you came to visit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chase mumbled.

Aunt Ariadne let go of Chase’s face and turned a kindling eye on me. “You have to feed him. Fatten him up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated.

She grunted with approval, and for the next half hour or so, watched us both eat, while Martha regaled us with an extensive report of everything that had happened to her in the last two weeks, which wasn’t all that interesting or entertaining. But at least we were going to escape this place with our lives. I mean, Aunt Ariadne wasn’t going to feed us only to kill us off later, was she? And we had one thing going for us: neither of us was a celebrity. Thank God.

Chapter 11

On our way back to Hampton Cove, Chase was quiet, which wasn’t surprising, given the enormous pile of hash browns his aunt had made him devour. Luckily she’d gone easier on me, and after I’d eaten one plate, hadn’t insisted I eat a second one, like she’d done with Chase.

“Your mom seemed fine,” I finally said, deciding to break the silence.

“Yeah, she had a good day.”

“You mean she’s not always like this?”

He shook his head.“Like I said, sometimes she forgets who I am.”

“Johnny the milkman, huh?”

“Yup. Or worse.”

“Bozo the Clown?”

“No. Sometimes she thinks I’m Dad, and tries to kiss me.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah. Last time she said we had to try for a baby. I graciously declined.”

“That can’t have been fun for you.”

“It was funny to Aunt Ariadne. She laughed her ass off.”

“She lacks delicacy.”

“Honey, Aunt Ariadne doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.”

I could see that. Aunt Ariadne was a little rough around the edges. We’d just merged onto the Long Island Expressway when a call came in. It was Sally Borrell. Chase put her on speakerphone.

“Yes, Sally. What have you got for me?”

“Well, he’s not in any of the hospitals—and he’s not in the morgue, either.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah, he’s not anywhere else, either, though. He just kinda went off the grid there, Chase.”

He balled his hand into a fist and bumped it softly against the steering wheel.“What could have happened to the old man?”

“We’ll keep looking, but so far we’ve got nothing. Is it possible he had no credit cards? No bank account? Nothing?”

“That’s possible. Grandpa doesn’t believe in banks or credit institutions. Says they’re all a bunch of crooks and thieves and he wants them nowhere near his money.”

“He’s probably right, but that only makes our work more difficult.”

“What about his cell phone?”

“Hasn’t been used for days.”

“Dammit.”

There was a pause.“Is Miss Spume with you?”

“She’s sitting right next to me.”

“Tell her I’m sorry. I was way out of line before.”

“Tell her yourself. You’re on speakerphone.”

“Kingsley!”

“Borrell.”

There was another pause.“Miss Spume?”

I leaned into the cell phone, which was in its cradle on the dash.“The name is Odelia Poole.”

“Whatever. I owe you an apology, Spume. I guess I got carried away.”

“That’s all right. I can appreciate what it must feel like to lose a partner.”

“That’s an awfully nice thing to say, Spume. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Yeah. Listen, take care of Chase, will you? He’s a great guy. And we all miss him down here.”

“I know,” I said, and I did. I would miss Chase if he suddenly disappeared from my life.