"Edie's not home," the woman announced, her eyes still suspicious.
"Are you sure?" Abel took an excited step forward, pausing again when Edie's neighbor's hand raised to the doorknob beside her. She looked ready to flee inside at any moment, and no doubt her first act--after locking the door--would be to call the police.
"Look," Abel tried again, "I've just flown all the way from England to visit Edie. She was supposed to pick me up at the airport a couple of hours ago. I waited there for an hour and a half before deciding she wasn't coming and then I hailed a taxi. I've waited here for another half an hour and she still hasn't arrived. I'm starting to worry that maybe she's sick, or fell and hit her head or something. So, I..." He gestured with the credit card he still held. "I'm really starting to worry."
The young woman didn't exactly relax, but she did appear a little less likely to flee as she considered his words. Her eyes took in his dark wavy hair--a trait he and Edie had both inherited from their Italian grandfather, who was also the source of the Andretti name. As she examined his face, Abel found himself wishing he'd stopped in the airport washroom to shave. He'd inherited a five o'clock shadow from his grandfather as well as his name, and since it had been a good sixteen hours since he'd shaved, he knew he would have a doozy of one right now. It no doubt gave him a roguish air rather than his usual trustworthy, accountant-type look. There was little he could do about it though.
He examined her, as she did him. She was a delicate little thing. Abel had followed in his father's footsteps and become an accountant, but he was built like a linebacker: Six feet two with wide shoulders and a muscular frame he could only assume he'd also inherited from his stonemason grandfather. At five feet eleven, Edie had also inherited that tall, strong frame. In comparison, Edie's neighbor was tiny and delicate. Abel's immediate impression was that of a bird, an exotic bird with a button nose rather than a beak, large green eyes, and deep red streaks through her luscious hair. Yes, a bird, because she appeared ready to take flight at any moment.
His gaze dropped down her tense figure, over the full ripe breasts pressing against the clingy cotton of her T-shirt. He could swear she wasn't wearing a bra. He ogled her breasts briefly, then let his gaze continue down over her slightly rounded tummy--why did he find that so sexy?--to her rounded hips encased in the tightest, oldest, most faded pair of ragtag jeans that it had ever been his pleasure to see. Abel had never before found a rip in the knee of a pair of jeans quite so stimulating.
"You have Edie's hair and eyes," the woman admitted.
Abel's eyes jerked from her knee back up to her face. Much to his relief, the woman had relaxed somewhat. It appeared he looked sufficiently like his sister to convince her. Thank goodness. That problem out of the way, he returned to her earlier claim. "You said Edie isn't home. Are you sure about that?"
She nodded apologetically. "Yes. Gran mentioned that she had taken today off, so I was going to invite her to lunch--but there was no answer when I knocked." She hesitated, then added with some reluctance, "I don't think she's returned from her date yet."
Abel felt a shock at that comment. "Date? Edie didn't mention that when I talked to her. In fact, she said something about her love life being as dry and barren as a desert."
His sister's neighbor shrugged. "Well, she dropped by my place to borrow some...things before it. I didn't get a chance to talk to her, because I had to let out Tinkle." She gestured at the dog who was now sitting at her feet, looking cute and fluffy and harmless, as if he wouldn't for the world consider taking a leak on someone's pant leg. Abel's mouth stretched into a scowl as he glared at the beast.
"It is odd though," the woman continued. "This date did seem to come out of the blue. I mean, she didn't mention being interested in anyone or anything before, and it's not like Edie to forget something like picking her brother up from the airport." Her gaze went to the door behind him, and Abel turned to look at it too, wishing he could see through. Edie might be in there, hurt or ill.
"Wait here. I'll be right back," Edie's neighbor said. She scooped up her small dog and then disappeared into the apartment from which she'd come.
Abel stared at the closed door for several seconds, wondering if perhaps she hadn't believed him after all and was even now calling the police. He didn't mind that so much; he wanted the police called. Something was definitely wrong. But he also didn't think he had the patience to wait for them to arrive. It wasn't just that he was now in desperate need of facilities, but he wanted into his sister's apartment. Now. He didn't want to have to wait for police procedure: knocking, asking questions, and then finally making their way to the apartment superintendent to have him or her open the door. He wanted inside now.
Making up his mind, Abel left his luggage where it was and walked down the hall. He'd have to return to the entry to find the super's number and buzz him. He'd get him to open the door and--
He paused abruptly as the door behind him opened again. Edie's neighbor stepped out of her apartment, sans mutt, and held up a key on a bunny keychain.
"Your sister and I swapped spares some time ago," she told him. "She has a key to my place in case there's a problem with Gran while I'm walking the dog or something, and I have a set of hers in case..." She let the sentence trail off, but he could fill in the blanks: In case something bad happened to Edie.
"Oh." He forced a smile. "That's handy."
"Yes." She held out her hand. "Jane Spyrus. Friend and neighbor of your sis."
Abel smiled at the belated introduction, and took the woman's hand. He found himself surprised at both the softness of her skin and the strength of her handshake. These details were lost, however, as her soft feminine scent reached him. He stared down into her solemn face, breathed deeply, and found his voice dropped so low in tone that it might have been coming from the zipper of his pants. "Hello," he said.
Fortunately, Jane didn't appear to notice. Her eyes had drifted down to his luggage where it was still stacked beside his sister's door. Following her gaze, Abel knew she was reading the tags with his name and address in London, England. Still, he was surprised when a stiffness he hadn't noticed before left Jane, and she beamed a smile at him. If the touch and smell of her had taken him by surprise, the sunny spreading of those full luscious lips and the way her eyes suddenly shot sincere pleasure at meeting him nearly bowled him over. Abel found himself forgetting his worries for his sister and smiling back.
"Gran said that Edie mentioned your coming when she dropped in last night," Jane announced as she reclaimed her hand and turned to Abel's sister's door.
"Gran?" Abel's gaze went to Jane's rear end of its own accord. He'd heard all the jokes about Italian men liking female behinds--looking, pinching, and fondling them were what they supposedly liked best--but Abel had never before seen the attraction. He'd always been a breast man, though he rarely admitted such even to himself. He preferred to claim that he liked a woman for her mind.
Of course, while the mind was important to him, when it came to fondling and groping...well, you couldn't fondle a mind. He tended to go for the breasts. Jane Spyrus, however, as fine as her breasts appeared to be, might have been able to convert him. She had as fine a behind as--
"Edie?"
Abel's eyes jerked up as Jane pushed his sister's door open and stepped inside her apartment. He picked up his luggage and followed.
"Edie?" Jane walked hesitantly to the living room and paused to look about.
Abel scanned the empty room over her head as he let the door close behind them; then he set his luggage to the side and stepped forward for a better look. The apartment was silent and still.
"Oh."
Abel glanced down at Jane, who was suddenly bent. She scooped up an orange tabby doing its very best to wind itself around her ankles.
"Hello, Mr. Tibbs." Jane scratched the furry animal behind the ears and straightened. "Where's your mommy? Hmm? Is she home?"
Crooning to the cat, she moved farther into the apartment. A
bel followed, glancing into the kitchen through a doorway on his right. He noted the used cup, plate, and silverware on the counter beside the sink, and the empty cat-food dish on the floor beside the fridge. He and Jane walked through the dining room, neat and clean, to the less tidy living room where an open newspaper had been left on the couch. A pair of slippers lay by the chair.
Jane paused to set Mr. Tibbs on the floor, then turned into a small hall on the right. Abel followed again, feeling like an interloper in the silent apartment. There was a door on their right, a door on their left, and one straight ahead. The one on their left opened to reveal a bedroom. Abel's gaze took in the chamber with the same attention to detail as he'd given the other rooms. The bedroom definitely appeared lived-in. A pile of clothes lay in one corner, awaiting laundry day. The bed was unmade, with several outfits tossed on it, obviously discarded as unsuitable for his sister's date. He was pleased to see it didn't look as if Edie had planned on bringing the guy back here.
The door on his right was closed. Abel turned the knob and opened it even as Jane said, "Closet."
It was a small closet, the shelves all neatly stacked with towels, washcloths, and linen. Closing it, he turned his attention to the room ahead. This door was open too, and the room was also most definitely lived-in, he saw, peering over Jane's head. It looked as if a cyclone had hit. Makeup was strewn everywhere on the bathroom's counter by a hair drier that was still plugged in but off. An unplugged curling iron lay nearby. A used towel had been left in a heap on the floor, along with what he presumed were the clothes Edie had worn to work.
Abel gave all this some attention before his gaze fell on the apparatus between the sink and tub. The toilet! Despite his worry for his sister, Abel was suddenly, most definitely, recalled to his need to relieve himself.
Jane glanced over, mouth open to say something. She paused at the sight of his face. "Oh. I suppose it was a long trip. Do you need to--"
"Yes. I'm afraid I do," he interrupted, slightly embarrassed. The two of them maneuvered around each other in the tight hallway so that he could get into the bathroom; then he closed the door and took care of business with a sigh of relief.
When he exited the room moments later he could hear Jane talking to someone, and he felt his heart jump with relief. Edie was back! He returned to the kitchen, only to pause in the doorway with disappointment. It wasn't Edie whom Jane was talking to, but the damned cat. She was chatting away to Mr. Tibbs as if the beast might actually understand and answer her while she searched.
"Where's your mama, boy?" she asked, opening all the cupboard doors one by one, pausing only when she found the box of dry food for which she'd apparently been looking.
"Here you go, baby." She filled the cat's dish, then picked up his empty water bowl.
"When was the last time you saw my sister?" Abel asked her as she straightened and noticed him.
Jane moved to the sink to rinse out and refill Mr. Tibbs's water bowl. "I told you. Last night, after work. She stopped in to borrow...a couple of things."
Abel noticed the hesitation over what had been borrowed and realized that Jane had hesitated much the same way when she'd mentioned it earlier. But before he could think of a way to ask her about it without seeming rude, she added, "She was getting ready for her date."
"Her date," Abel echoed with a frown. He'd talked to Edie only last night. Well, early evening for him. It had been lunchtime here in Vancouver. Abel had called to verify his arrival time. He'd made sure to call on her work lunch hour to ensure that she wouldn't get in trouble for personal calls. That talk was also why he'd waited so long at the airport before hailing a cab and coming here: Edie had assured him she would be there. She'd also said then that her social life resembled a desert, dry and barren. Which meant this date had come up between his call and when she'd got home from work: four or five hours she would have spent mostly in the office.
"It was a date?" Abel asked. "Not something to do with work?"
Jane looked surprised. "No. I mean, yes. It was a date, and it had nothing to do with work as far as I know." She peered at him curiously: "Why?"
"Oh." He shook his head. "It's just that she mentioned some strange goings-on at work."
"What kind of strange goings-on?" Jane asked.
Abel hesitated then admitted, "Well, she didn't elaborate. She said only, 'There's something strange going on at work. I'll tell you about it when you get here, but if anything should happen to me....' But then she laughed it off as if she were being silly." He shrugged as if it might mean nothing, but he was truly worried. Edie wasn't prone to exaggeration. Strange happenings at work and cryptic comments like "should anything happen to me" were easily shrugged off when things were well, but now that his sister was missing...
"Is there anyone we could call?" he asked. "Who was her date with?"
"I don't know, but--" Jane turned out of the kitchen and walked quickly into the living room area. Abel watched with bewilderment as she walked to an end table, opened its drawer, and pulled out a small flower-covered tome.
"This is her personal phone book." Jane moved back toward him. "We'll go through this and call everyone in here if we have to, until we either find her or find someone who knows who she went out with. Come on, we'll have to do it at my place."
"Your place?" Abel asked as she moved past him to the exit. "Shouldn't we stay here in case she returns?"
"Gran is...She can't be left alone," Jane answered evasively. Abel thought she sounded slightly embarrassed or perhaps just terribly uncomfortable, but he couldn't see her face as he stepped out into the hall behind her.
"We'll just have to keep checking to see if she comes back." Jane pulled the door closed, started to lock it with her key, then paused and arched a questioning eyebrow at him. "Unless you want to stay here and go through the book yourself?"
"No. I don't know who her friends are here in Vancouver. I could use your help."
Chapter Four
There was a movie blaring on the television when Abel followed Jane into her apartment: some horror flick from the '70s with lots of gore. There was no one watching it. The living room and dining area were as empty as Edie's had been, which seemed to alarm Jane. Abel was sure he heard a soft curse slip from her lips as she turned into the kitchen.
He followed, peering curiously over her head. His gaze fell upon an older woman in a wheelchair. No doubt this was the "gran" Jane had mentioned couldn't be left alone. The woman's hair was short and white, her face still lovely despite its age. She looked very much like her granddaughter. Abel could imagine Jane looking just as lovely in her twilight years. But he had no idea what was alarming her. Maybe it was that her gran had wheeled herself up to a table where a collection of ingredients was set out for use. It appeared the old woman was preparing to bake something.
"Gran? Whatever are you doing?" Jane asked, her voice sounding thin and strained.
Abel watched, curious.
"I thought I'd make some tea and scones," the woman answered cheerfully.
Jane seemed to relax a bit, but not completely. Abel didn't have long to wonder what still bothered her, because Jane's gran had noticed his presence.
"Oh, hello," she chirped. Then her mouth became a sad moue as she looked behind them into the empty hall. "I take it Edie wasn't there, then?"
"Edie? No." Jane sounded distracted. "This is her brother, Abel Andretti. Abel, this is my gran, Maggie."
"Ma'am." Abel nodded solemnly.
"We're going to make a couple of calls and see if we can track Edie down," Jane explained as her grandmother smiled at Abel in greeting.
"That's a good idea, dear." Maggie Spyrus nodded solemnly. "I'm sure you'll track her down. Then we can all have tea and scones together."
"That sounds lovely," Abel agreed, then grunted as he was elbowed in the side. He looked at Jane in surprise.
"We wouldn't want you to go to all that trouble, Gran," she contradicted quickly. "We--"
"Oh, it's no
trouble, Janie dear. You know how I love to bake."
Abel thought he heard a groan from Jane; then she said, "Perhaps I should stay and help."
"Nonsense! I'm sixty years old. Surely I know my way around a kitchen by now," the old woman claimed.
"Seventy," Jane muttered, though Abel guessed he wasn't supposed to hear. He contained an amused smile.
"You run along now and track down our Edie," Maggie suggested. "Go on. Shoo!"
Her granddaughter hesitated a moment longer, then said, "All right. But if you need any help--"
"Shoo!" her grandmother repeated.
Impatient with the interruption of their search, Abel took Jane's arm. He urged her out into the hall. "I'm sure she'll be fine."
"Yes," Jane agreed, but she didn't sound happy. She kept glancing back at the kitchen as he urged her into the living room.
"You can check on her regularly," Abel pointed out. He was trying to be understanding though all he really wanted to do was make those phone calls and find his sister. "She'll be fine."
"Yes," Edie's neighbor agreed doubtfully. "Of course she will."
------
Jane hung up the phone after yet another useless call and ran her finger over the next number. They'd been calling all the numbers in Abel's sister's book for nearly an hour now and were at the letter T. There were very few listings left. So far they'd learned exactly nothing, and Jane very much feared that this was a wasted effort. Picking up the receiver, she started to punch in the next number...only to pause when her glance went to Abel. His nose was working as he sniffed the air. He looked like a dog tracking a scent.
"What is it?" She asked.
"I'm not sure," Abel answered. "Do you smell something burning?"
Jane's eyes widened in horror. A smell of char filled the air. She leaped to her feet at once. "Gran!"
Flying into the kitchen, Jane felt alarm pulse through her. But Gran was still at the kitchen table, happily rolling out gray dough and using a water glass to cut inch-thick circles out of it. All around, the kitchen was beginning to fill with a nasty black smoke that billowed from the oven behind her.