Two Girls Down(66)

Cap brought the school photos of Kylie and Bailey to Eldridge.

“Wait!” said Alyssa. “Wait, wait, wait,” she muttered.

She went to the small table next to the bed, opened a drawer and pulled out a glasses case and a pair of large-rimmed black bifocals.

“Here,” she said, placing them on Eldridge’s head. They made him look like he was wearing a costume—a librarian for Halloween.

“Were those the girls you saw in the car?” said Cap.



Eldridge inspected the picture, like he was looking at a germ under a microscope.

“I’ll tell you, sir, I think so, but you understand my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“That’s fine,” said Cap, reassuring. “That’s not a problem. Now I’m going to show you another picture and if you could, please tell us if this person looks familiar to you.”

Cap pulled the mugshot of John McKie from his folder and held it up to Eldridge.

“Yeah,” said Eldridge, happy. “Now, that looks like Harry. Doesn’t it look like Harry?”

“Sure does, Uncle Roy,” said Alyssa.

“Except Harry’s never in a bad mood,” said Eldridge. “He’s a glass half full.”

“Mr. Eldridge,” said Cap, gentle, quiet. “Did you see this man with those girls in the car when you left the mall last Saturday?”

“Well, sure I did,” said Eldridge. “He was driving. I tried a get his attention, but Harry’s a good driver; he’s looking straight ahead.”

Vega glanced at Alyssa, who looked back at her, her face a mixed grill of sad and worried.

Then Eldridge placed a giant hand on the expanse of his forehead, his fingers crooked at the knuckles.

“Aw, hell, Lyssie,” he said. “Harry’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, Uncle Roy,” said Alyssa, crying a little bit. “Over in Vietnam.”

“This fellow, he only wears his hair the same way,” Eldridge said to Cap.

“I think so, Mr. Eldridge.”

Eldridge’s lips curled in and milky tears rolled down his face.

“?’Cause Harry’s dead. Long dead.”

“Yes, sir,” said Cap, so soft and sweet it made Vega want to lie down and go to sleep. “Do you remember anything else about this man who looked like Harry, or the little girls, or the car?”

Eldridge pinched his nose with his thumbs.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Car was tannish, I think. Had a bumper sticker,” said Eldridge. “Giants, New York Giants.” Eldridge laughed. “Harry never woulda had that, would he, Lyssie? He was a true blue Eagles fan.”



It made Cap smile, the way Eldridge said “Eagles” like “iggles.”

“You bet, Uncle Roy,” Alyssa said, laughing too.

“That’s incredibly helpful, sir,” said Cap. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” Vega said, louder than she had planned, so even Cap turned and appeared surprised.

“We’re glad to help,” said Alyssa. “Isn’t it so, Uncle Roy? If we could help find those missing girls?”

Eldridge did not seem glad to help. He lowered his brow, looked wistful, could have been trying to remember what he had for breakfast or how he was a paper boy in the Depression. Could be anything, Vega thought.

“Aw hell, Lyssie, looks like I peed,” he said, shifting around.

“It’s okay, Uncle Roy, I’ll get the stuff,” said Alyssa. She turned to Cap and Vega. “You folks need anything else?”

“No, thank you, this has been very valuable to us. Thank you both,” said Cap.

He continued to talk to her as they left the room. Vega looked back once more at Eldridge, gazing up like he was trying to make out words on the ceiling. For a second Vega looked up there too, just in case.

—

Cap hung up with Traynor, stared at some boys in long T-shirts, hair falling in their eyes. They sat at a table in the food court, drinking juice from giant cups, straws squeaking in the plastic lids.

He saw Vega behind the counter at the Peking Express, showing photos to a large woman wearing a polo shirt, the manager. The woman also had papers for Vega and flapped her hands while she talked like she was swatting flies. Vega stared at the hands, and it made Cap smile because she looked like just another cop, listening to all the details a witness wanted to tell you along with their opinions and psychological diagnoses.

“Mr. Caplan?”

Cap turned around, saw a lovely tired woman with a toddler asleep in a stroller in front of her. The last time he had seen her, a couple of days ago, she had been just as lovely, only angrier.



“Hey. Hi, Mrs. Svetich,” he said. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Cammy,” she said. “He’s my youngest. This is when he’s the cutest.”

Cap laughed and started to say the thing about little kids, little problems, but she cut him off.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” she said. She was not shaking, but it looked like she was about to start. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for how I behaved the other day. In your office. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger about my shitty marriage on you.”