Goodnight Beautiful(52)

“She’s getting lunch in the dining room,” a young woman says as she passes. “She’ll be right back. You can take a seat and wait if you want.”

“Thanks,” Annie says. The young woman enters the staff room, and Annie finds her phone in her bag.

“This is Annie Potter,” she says when John Gently answers. “Is Chief Sheehy there?”

She hears a clicking noise, and then Sheehy comes on the line. “Good morning, Mrs. Statler.”

“It’s Potter, and why the hell did you go to the newspaper about Sam’s debt?”

“I’m sorry?”

She lowers her voice. “Don’t play dumb, Franklin. Why on earth would you call a reporter and tell her—”

“First of all,” Sheehy says, cutting her off, “I didn’t tell her about the debt. She knew about it already.”

“What do you mean, she knew about it?” Annie asks.

“I mean she knew about it. ‘Hello Chief, this is blah dee blah,’” he says, apparently imitating the reporter. “‘We received a tip that Sam Statler was in significant debt at the time of his disappearance. What do you have to say?’” She can hear the springs of Sheehy’s chair squeaking under him. “What do you want me to do? Unlike some people in this country, I still believe in a free press.”

“A tip?” Annie says. “Two people know about the debt, Franklin. You and my cousin. And it wasn’t my cousin.”

“And it wasn’t me, Mrs. Statler.”

“It’s Potter,” she says. The door to the outside slides open, and a couple in their seventies enter. “I think I understand what’s behind the debt.”

“Oh? Please, go on.”

“Sam has some money coming from his father,” she says. “It’s a gift.”

“Can you be more specific?” Sheehy asks.

Annie turns her back and speaks softly. “Two million dollars.”

Sheehy whistles softly. “Guess Ted did even better than I thought, chasing that girl. Funny you didn’t mention this to me earlier.”

“It didn’t seem relevant,” Annie says, watching the couple sign the guest register before disappearing down the hall. “The money’s been fraught for him.”

“Makes sense,” Sheehy says. “Getting two million dollars can be hard on people.”

Annie bites back her annoyance. “Sam’s been auditioning for his father’s love his whole life,” she continues. “Getting the money felt like he’d earned that love. But it also felt cheap, like he’d allowed his father to buy him. So he spent it as quick as he could on some incredibly stupid shit.” She’s studied the bills, shocked at what he paid for things. The top-of-the-line lawn mower and professional surround sound installed in the house. $5,000 chair for his office. “He got carried away, and before he knew it, he was in over his head. He kept telling himself everything will be fine—it’s a thing he does—because the debt was temporary. As soon as his dad’s money comes, he’d pay it all off.”

“I see,” Franklin Sheehy says. “And let me guess. There’s a twist.”

“The money hasn’t come yet, and it’s taking longer than Sam expected.”

“And why’s that?”

“His mother has to sign papers over to him, but her health hasn’t been good, and the money is delayed.” It became clear to her yesterday, as she paced the house, nursing her third cup of coffee. His mother hasn’t signed the papers yet, and the debt’s been adding up, stressing him out. That’s why he’d been in such a bad mood the last few weeks, too anxious to sleep.

“Sounds innocent enough,” Sheehy says. “But then why not tell you about it?”

“He was ashamed, and scared I might leave him.” She takes a breath. “I’m telling you, Franklin, you can’t allow this to sidetrack the investigation. Something has happened to Sam. I’m sure of it.”

Sheehy is quiet on the other end of the line and then sighs. “Two million dollars sure would be a nice amount to start over with. You sure he didn’t get it?”

“Yes, Franklin. I’m sure. He would have told me.”

“Listen, Annie. Like I told that reporter, we’re doing everything we can with the information we have.”

She’s done wasting time. “Well, thank you for all your hard work. Have a nice day, Officer Sheehy.”

“It’s Chief Sheehy.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says. “I keep forgetting.” She ends the call, her hands shaking.

“Annie?” She turns around. It’s Sally French. “Josephine said you wanted to speak to me.”

“Yes.” Annie manages a weak smile. “A resident told me that Sam was here yesterday. I know she’s probably confused, but I need to at least ask if anyone saw him.”

Sally hesitates, and there’s something about the look on her face that makes Annie uneasy.

“What?” she says.

“I haven’t seen Sam here in several weeks, Annie.”

“What do you mean? He comes every other day. We take turns.”

The door opens again, and a woman enters, clutching the hand of a little girl, her face painted like a cat, a red helium balloon gripped in her fist. Sally nods. “Let’s ask Josephine. She’d be the one to know.”