Overkill(89)

Melinda held up her phone so Bing could hear Kate’s request that the caller leave a name and number. She clicked off.

Querulous, Bing said, “Why’d she give you her cell number if she didn’t plan on answering calls?”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“I’m sure there is, too.” Bing figured he knew what Zach and Kate were doing that made them unavailable at the same time. He scowled and said under his breath, “Hope they’re enjoying themselves.”

“Did the doctor in New Orleans say that it was an emergency?” Melinda asked.

“Not in so many words, but that’s the feeling I got. I don’t think she would have resorted to calling me in search of Zach if it weren’t.”

“Lord.” Melinda pressed her hands against her face. “If she dies, and Eban learns of it, he’s liable to do anything.”

Acting like an exclamation point, her doorbell rang.

She and Bing sprang from their chairs and headed for the front of the house. His tricky LCL chose then to act up. By the time he’d popped his knee back into place and caught up to Melinda, she had answered the door.

The man said, “Mrs. Parsons? My name is Sid Clarke.”

Bing recognized him from having seen pictures. Melinda bristled. “I know who you are.”

“May I come in?”

“No.” She was about to close the door in his face, when he raised a hand.

“Please. I’m here to see Cal.”

Bing stepped up. “What do you want with him?”

“And you are?”

“What do you want with her husband?”

Clarke frowned over Bing’s rudeness, but he said tightly, “I can’t locate Eban. I’m hoping that Cal knows where he is.”

Melinda looked at Bing with apprehension, like he was supposed to know what to do in this situation. Hell, he didn’t even know these people. He didn’t know why Zach chose now not to answer his goddamn phone. He didn’t know shit. What business was this of his, anyway? Why wasn’t he at home relaxing in his chair with a cold beer and watching knights in armor chop each other’s heads off?

In a guttural voice, he said to Melinda, “You’d better let him in,” and moved aside to allow Clarke into the foyer.

But that’s as far as he got. Melinda blocked him from advancing any farther. “Cal isn’t here. He hasn’t been at home since early this morning, and he hasn’t answered his phone all day. I assume he’s with Eban.”

“Why do you assume that?”

She gave a bitter laugh and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where they are, Mr. Clarke. If I did, I would go there and pull Cal back by the hair of his head if that’s what it took to get him away from your son. He’s poisonous.”

Despite the insult, Clarke’s expression remained impassive. “Did Cal mention going to Belize?”

“Belize?”

“That’s what Eban told me this morning. A getaway. The three of them.”

“Theo, too?”

“Yes. Just like old times, he said.”

He told them about Eban’s scheduling the private jet and his own confirmation with the pilot. “I believe Eban covered his bases on the outside chance that I would check. But even after the pilot confirmed the flight, I was suspicious of this sudden getaway plan and thought it might be a decoy. So I went to the FBO on the pretext of seeing them off.

“The plane was on the tarmac, fueled and ready to go. Red carpet rolled out. Catering onboard and champagne chilling. The two pilots, the flight attendant, the traffic controllers in the tower, we all waited for the arrival of the three passengers, none of whom showed up.”

Melinda backed into the wall and leaned against it for support. She looked done in. Bing wondered how many more hammer blows she could take.

Sid Clarke continued. “Over the course of that two-hour wait, I spoke to Eban three times by cell phone. He was as chipper as always. He apologized for the delay in their getting to the airfield. He said they’d been held up. First the rain, then the traffic, then a necessary return to the house to pick up something he’d forgotten to pack. A lie soon debunked by our housekeeper.”

He gave a rueful smile. “My son obviously has no scruples about lying to his own father. Ultimately, I canceled the flight and began searching for him. I started with Theo. According to his coworkers, he put in a full day at the library and left at five o’clock, his normal quitting time. But his car is still in the employee parking lot.” He let that sink in, then said, “I ask you again, Mrs. Parsons, do you know where Cal is?”

“What, are you deaf?” Bing had taken an instant dislike to Sid Clarke. He’d never trusted men who were smooth-talking during a crisis, or who wore shoes with tassels. “She already told you she didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, Bing,” Melinda said. She told Clarke what she knew about Cal’s reporting to work but leaving early. “He didn’t tell anyone. That isn’t like him. It’s not like him to leave the house with a suitcase and ignore my calls, either.”

Clarke took a moment to absorb all that, then said, “My oldest and best friend killed himself last night.”

The statement had come from out of nowhere and was apropos of nothing that Bing could tell. Melinda seemed just as taken aback.