Chapter Eleven

Charlie stood at the counteras Gwen put the finishing touches on his latte. He checked his watch. It was 8:43 a.m.

"You know, you could just save the money and make one of these upstairs," Gwen said.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, "but why work if you can't treat yourself to the little pleasures in life?"

"I like the way you think."

As she rang in the order, Gwen asked, "How's he doing? That was tough news about Joan, especially coming so hard on the heels of the anniversary of his mom's death."

"He never said anything about his mom to me. He seemed okay when I left last night."

"Keep your eye on him. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Sure thing." Charlie paid the bill and turned to leave. Through the window, he saw the street door to the office open, and Luke walked out.

What the fuck?

Charlie waited until the cop was out of sight before he left the café and dashed up the stairs to the office. His mind raced with thoughts of what to do. His fantasy life with Declan was vanishing before his eyes.

As Charlie entered the office, Declan walked out of the kitchenette with his morning coffee.

"So…have a restful night?" Charlie asked, trying to hide his sarcasm.

"Yeah. You?"

"Nothing but. Hard not to rest when you don't have a personal life." Charlie put his latte and pain au chocolat down on his desk hard enough to spill some coffee. He didn't care. "I've booked you for a ten o'clock meeting this morning with a woman who misplaced her husband. If you haven't found it yet, I pulled together a report on what she said and what I could find out about the couple on the internet. It's on your desk."

"Thanks," Declan said. "I'll look that over now."

"I didn't book your meeting first thing this morning because I thought you might have planned a workout session."

"No… I think I'll skip that for today."

"Yeah. I guess you probably had a good workout last night."

Declan just looked at him, then headed back to his office and closed the door.

Charlie immediately regretted what he had said. He wanted to apologise, but thought he should give Declan his space, so instead he wrote him a note.

Sorry for the bitchy comment. No excuse for that. Didn't sleep well—C.

He slipped it under the door, then returned to his desk. A few moments later, a note slid back under the door.

You worry too much—D.

He read it three times, interpreting it differently each time. In the end he decided to read it positively.

When he sat down, he spotted Luke's card on his desk from the day before. He'd thought about it—Declan and Luke. They had seemed to hit it off yesterday. He'd thought about it all night. They seemed to have this…thing between them. Charlie wished there'd been a thing between him and Declan… A thing that wasn't one-way.

Was it any surprise that Declan was drawn to that cop? Good God, they were a couple of well-matched bookends. They could roll around for hours and not damage each other. Charlie'd be crushed under the weight of either of them… If only he had the chance. He'd taken enjoyment in cancelling their lunch.

In spite of himself, Charlie was fixated on the image of Declan lying on top of him. He tried to remove the image from his brain by studying notes on previous cases while Declan remained in his office. The thought of Declan being mad at Charlie sent shards of glass through his heart. He would have to find a way to make it up to him.

At the appointed time, the street door opened, and there were footsteps on the stairs. A woman who Charlie pegged at being in her fifties entered the office. Charlie stood.

"Mrs Mann? I'm Mr Hunt's assistant, Charlie Watts." He extended his hand, which she took.

"Oh. Like the drummer," she said, mildly distracted.

"Yeah…just a little bit younger, but not so dead," he replied, then realised the impropriety of the dead remark when the woman's husband was missing. He moved on. "Would you care for a coffee?"

"No. I've been living on it for the last few days and I think my stomach's ready to move out."

Charlie nodded. "If you'll follow me, please." He led her to Declan's office, knocked and entered.

Declan had Charlie's notes spread out across his desk. He looked up at Charlie and smiled. "Great work on these notes."

A warm feeling flooded Charlie's body. He smiled and announced, "Mrs Katherine Mann to see you."

Declan stood as she entered. "Mrs Mann—may I call you Katherine?" Declan asked as he took her hand.

"Please. I've been Mrs Manned to death by the police since I reported Ian missing."

"Please, Katherine, have a seat. Can we get you anything, coffee, tea, something stronger?"

"I shouldn't…but Scotch, if you have any."

"Scotch it is," Declan said, and poured two glasses, one for her and one for himself.

"Charlie, would you mind sitting in and taking notes?"

"Uh…sure," he said. He had never realised that he would be expected to take dictation. He ran back to his desk, quickly finding a pad and pen. He returned to Declan's office and took a chair in the corner.

Declan began, "So, tell me what you can about your husband's disappearance."

"It's really quite simple. He went out to have drinks with some friends six nights ago—"

"That was Thursday night?" Declan interrupted.

"Yes. Thursday night. He's been getting together with these friends for the last few years. He went out, and never came back."

"Was that common—staying out all night?"

She stared at the floor.

"Not un-common," she said, then took a sip of her drink. "But he'd always text or call if he wasn't coming home."

"And you've obviously tried to contact him with no success?"

"When I called, I just got his voicemail. None of my texts have been returned."

Declan continued, "When did you contact the police?"

"After I got a hold of Sheldon, who told me that Ian left the party late Thursday night."

"And Sheldon is?" Charlie asked.

Declan kept an eye on him, curious how much he would ask, and hoped he would know how far he could go.

"Oh—Sheldon Prescott. He's a friend of Ian's who usually hosts these get-togethers. He has a big house in Mountain River Estates."

"Nice area," Declan commented.

"He's the vice-president of a bank."

"Do you know which one?" Charlie asked.

"One that makes lots of money," she answered, smiling for the first time.

Declan continued, "I assume your husband's car was no longer at Mr Prescott's?"

"That's right."

"And there's been no trace of it, since?"

She nodded, shifted in her chair and took another drink.

Declan paused. "Are you all right to continue?"

"Yes," she replied.

"You said that you contacted Mr Prescott. It was Saturday morning, was it?"

She nodded again.

"How did he react to the news that Ian hadn't returned home?" Declan asked.

"He was almost…panicked."

Charlie let out a soft "Hmm," and continued taking notes.

"Did you call anyone else before calling the police?" Declan enquired.

Her eyes welled up. "The hospitals."

"Do you remember which ones?" Charlie asked.

"Foothills, Lougheed, Rockyview General and South Health."

"Thank you," Charlie replied, and gave her a soft smile.

Declan sat forward in his chair, bringing him closer to Katherine. "I need to ask you some personal questions regarding your husband."

Before Declan could continue, she replied, "He wasn't taking any medications, his health was good and he certainly wasn't suicidal. Never has been." She added, almost as an afterthought, "And he wasn't involved with gangs, drugs or the sex trade."

Declan smiled. "The police have obviously already asked these questions. How was your relationship with Ian?"

Katherine finished her Scotch and said, "May I have another?"

Declan refilled her drink and noted that she was fiddling with her wedding band. As he handed her back her glass he said, "I was asking about your relationship."

Katherine took a moment before she answered. "It was…unusual."

Charlie looked up from his notes, then glanced at Declan.

"Meaning?" Declan asked.

"We loved each other. We were each other's best friends. We rarely spent more than twenty-four hours apart."

"So, you didn't have a fight?"

"No."

"Then why are you here, Katherine? It seems to me that the police are the best people to handle the case."

"Well, they would be, except for the fact that when I told them we had an open relationship…"

"Oh…" Declan responded.

Katherine shifted in her chair and scowled. "The one officer got this obnoxious little smirk on his face. He said that it would be best if they left it for another day or so. He said that maybe Ian and his ‘friend'—he actually used air quotes around friend—he said they probably just went away for a while—took a trip.

She took a large swig of her drink.

"I told them that Ian would never do anything like that. We had rules that we followed. He said that men followed their cocks before rules every time. He even suggested that Ian might have run off with another man."

"Pretty crude," Charlie judged.

"That describes the cop perfectly."

"And you don't believe Ian could have run off with someone?" Declan asked.

Katherine emptied her glass, then looked at Declan. "My husband had many secrets. I was told that you were a detective that was open-minded when it came to more unusual cases and knew how to keep things quiet."

"I am," Declan responded.

"Me too," Charlie added.

Katherine paused. "Ian wasn't really driven by sexual desire. But, as a photographer, he had an eye for beauty. He was drawn to people who had that, ‘something special'. He said that's what attracted him to me in the first place. And God knows I found Ian incredibly attractive.

She set her empty glass on the desk and adjusted the gold chain around her neck.

"Over the past few years, my husband has occasionally been exploring his feminine side by dressing as a woman, and the night he disappeared, he was at a party with other like-minded individuals."

Declan processed this new information. "Do you think it had anything to do with his disappearance?"

Katherine said, "I don't know, but I suspect if the police start to dig too deeply, they'll find out, and it might influence how seriously they take the case. I mean, if they were concerned about an open relationship…" She left the sentence unfinished.

Declan said, "So you're sure Ian wasn't seeing anyone, perhaps from the party?"

"I don't think so," Katherine said. "One thing I do know is that secrecy is of the utmost importance."

"Why's that?" Charlie interjected.

"Ian never told me who attended Sheldon's parties, but I got the idea that some of the attendees were in prominent public positions and wanted their privacy respected."

Charlie nodded. "Makes sense."

Katherine turned back to Declan. "After I spoke to the police, I phoned Sheldon and he gave me your number. Apparently you helped a friend of his on a somewhat delicate case a few years ago. He said that you were one of the few people in this town who could be trusted. He also gave me permission to give you his name and number."

She opened her purse, extracted a piece of paper and slid it across the desk to Declan. He looked at it and passed it on to Charlie.

"Is it safe to assume that you didn't give this particular piece of information to the police?" Declan asked.

Katherine looked at him and said, "To Sergeant Men-Think-With-Their-Cocks? Of course not. Would you? I will not leave my husband open to ridicule from that brainless oaf. I realised perhaps the police wouldn't be much help and telling them might make things worse."

"I would have done the same as you," Declan offered, thinking, There are many spouses who would not have remained so cool. "You mentioned that you were in an open relationship. Are you currently seeing someone else?"

Katherine got up and moved towards the window. "Do we have to talk about that? I know it has nothing to do with Ian's disappearance."

Declan remained at his desk. "I think that it's always best to come clean with everything from the start. It saves us from wasting time following the wrong leads, and prevents anything from coming out that you want kept quiet. Remember—we'll be working for you."

She returned to her seat and bit her lower lip. "If my relationship comes out, it will be very embarrassing for everyone involved."

"Affairs often are, but it just might help us find Ian."

She sighed. "His name is Michael Taylor. He's the son of our friends Deirdre and Simon."

"And is it safe to assume that the two of you were together the night that Ian disappeared?"

"I had dinner with the Taylors, and Michael drove me home after."

"And he'd be able to attest to that?"

"If I asked him to."

"Would he be able to attest to it without your asking?" Charlie added.

She turned to Charlie. "Of course. I just meant he probably wouldn't say anything unless he knew I told you first."

Charlie cocked his head to one side. "You didn't drive yourself to the dinner party?"

"I don't drive. I Uber when I need to go somewhere, if Ian can't drive me."

"Thank you," Charlie replied, scribbling more notes on his pad.

Katherine looked at Declan and asked, "Do you have enough to go on?"

Declan said, "Just a few more questions. Outside of your personal circle, what do you know about your husband's business dealings?"

She frowned. "He used to invest in real estate, but now he's down to a single building. I don't think I'll be of any help there. We never really talked too much about his business. I think he felt it was a bit…boring." She turned her head towards Charlie. "It was far from the glamorous lives we led in London. Here, work always felt like, well, work. He'd sooner talk to you about the Axemen."

"The Axemen?" Declan asked.

"A hockey team up north in Airdrie," Charlie answered, while still making notes in his book. "A Triple-A team, aren't they?" Charlie asked Katherine.

"Yes," she said with surprise in her voice. "Ian bought the team ten or so years back. He felt it was the best way to show how Canadian he'd become."

"Did he spend much time with the team?" Charlie continued.

"He made sure he went to all of their games. Ian took their publicity shots—he was an excellent photographer. He hadn't done much of that since we moved here. Sad, really. That's what he loved more than anything in life. Way back in the old days, that is."

Katherine went silent. Declan paused then said, "Well, why don't we start with what we have here for the moment? At the same time, we'll try and find out what the police are doing. They probably won't move on anything until either the car is found…or your husband is."

The reality of that statement set in, and the colour left her face. "You think he's dead, don't you?"

"I don't know, but we'll do our best to find out the truth."

Katherine looked like she might faint.

"Let me get you some water," Charlie said. He jumped to his feet and quickly headed to the kitchenette.

He really does care about people, Declan thought.

Charlie came back in with a tall glass of water as Katherine cried into a tissue. "So, you will look into this for me?"

"I'll have Charlie provide you with the contract as soon as we're done here."

After several minutes of being consoled, Katherine had signed the agreement with Declan Hunt Investigations, which Charlie took to the file room. As she prepared to leave, Declan asked one more question.

"The policeman who questioned you on Saturday—his name wasn't McKeckran, was it?"

"Yes. I think that was his name. Is that important?"

"No. Just curious. We'll be in touch tomorrow, unless we hear of something any sooner."

Charlie returned as Declan shook her hand, and Katherine Mann walked out of the office.

Declan put his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "Huh. That's interesting."

"What is?" Charlie asked.

Declan stared at the office door. "I think this is the same case that Luke's working on."

* * * *

Katherine exited the office and got into the back of the Uber she had ordered. As the car pulled away from the curb, she reached for her phone and tapped in a number. After three rings, a smooth, deep voice answered.

"How did it go?"

"I had to tell them about you," she said.

"So soon?"

"I had no choice. It's best to control the release of information rather than react to it."

"But it was just to the detective, right?"

"And his assistant. Anyway, he'll be giving you a call to confirm a few things. Don't let him talk you into anything other than what we discussed. And watch out for his little friend. I don't think he's as innocent as he acts."