Gone

CHAPTER 20

Tuesday morning, I called Robin, got her machine, hung up.

In my office, a dusty stack of psych journals beckoned. A twenty-page treatise on the eye-blink reflex in schizophrenic Hooded rats lowered my eyelids.

I went down to the pond and fed the koi. For fish, they’re smart, have learned to swarm the moment I come down the stairs. It’s nice to be wanted.

Warm air and sloshing water put me under again. The next thing I saw was Milo’s big face crowding my visual field.

Smile as wide as a continent. Scariest clown in the known world. I mumbled some kind of greeting.

“What’s with you?” he said. “Snoozing midday like a codger?”

“What time is it?”

He told me. An hour had vanished. “What’s next, white shoes and dinner at four?”

“Robin naps.”

“Robin has a real job.”

I got to my feet and yawned. The fish sped toward me. Milo hummed the theme from Jaws. In his hand was a folder. Unmistakable shade of blue.

“A new one?” I said.

Instead of answering, he climbed back up to the house. I cleared my head and followed.

He sat himself at the kitchen table, napkin tucked into his collar, dishes and utensils set for one. Half a dozen slices of toast, runny Vesuvius of scrambled eggs, sixteen-ounce glass of orange juice, half emptied.

He wiped pulp from his lips. “Love this place. Breakfast served any time.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to rob you blind if such were my intention. Why can’t I convince you to lock your door?”

“No one drops in but you.”

“This isn’t a visit, it’s business.” He stabbed the egg mound, slid the blue folder across the table. A second file separated from the first. “Read ’em and wake.”

A pair of missing persons cases. Gaidelas, A. Gaidelas, C.

Consecutive case numbers.

“Two more girls?” I said. “Sisters?”

“Read.”

Andrew and Catherine Gaidelas, forty-eight and forty-five, respectively, had disappeared two months after Tori Giacomo.

The couple, married twenty years with no children, were owners of a beauty parlor in Toledo, Ohio, called Locks of Luck. In L.A. for a spring vacation, they’d been staying in Sherman Oaks with Cathy’s sister and brother-in-law, Dr. and Mrs. Barry Palmer. On a clear, crisp Tuesday in April the Palmers went to work and the Gaidelases left to go hiking in the Malibu mountains. They hadn’t been seen since.

Identical report in both files. I read Catherine’s. “Doesn’t say where in Malibu.”

“Doesn’t say a lot of things. Keep going.”

The facts were sketchy, with no apparent links to Michaela or Tori. Was I missing something? Then I came to the final paragraph.

Subject C. Gaidelas’s sister, Susan Palmer, reports Cathy and Andy said they were coming out to Calif for vacation but after they got there talked about staying for a while so they could “break into acting.” S. Palmer reports her sister did some “modeling and theater” after high school and used to talk about becoming an actress. A. Gaidelas didn’t have acting experience but everyone back home thought he was a handsome guy who “looked like Dennis Quaid.” S. Palmer reports Andy and Cathy were tired of running a beauty parlor and didn’t like the cold weather in Ohio. Cathy said she thought they could get some commercials because they looked “all-American.” She also talked about “getting serious and taking acting lessons” and S. Palmer thinks Cathy contacted some acting schools but doesn’t know which ones.

At the rear were two color head-shots.

Cathy and Andy Gaidelas were both fair-haired and blue-eyed with disarming smiles. Cathy had posed in a sleeveless black dress trimmed with rhinestones and matching pendant earrings. Full-faced, with plump shoulders, she had teased platinum hair, a strong chin, a thin, straight nose.

Her husband was a tousled gray-blond, long-faced and craggy in a white button-down shirt that exposed curls of pale chest hair. I supposed his off-kilter grin had a Dennis Quaid charm. Any other similarities to the actor eluded me.

All-American couple well into middle age. They might qualify for Mom and Dad parts on commercials. Pitches for dog food, TV dinners, garbage bags…

I shut the file.

Milo said, “Wannabe stars and now they’re gone. Am I reaching?”

“How’d you come across it?”

“Checking out other MP cases with either an acting connection or a Malibu link. As usual, the computer flagged nothing, but a sheriff’s detective remembered the Gaidelases as would-be thespians. In his mind, no homicide, two adults rabbiting. I reached the brother-in-law, plastic surgeon. The Gaidelases are still missing, family got fed up with the sheriffs, tried the P.I. route, went through three investigators. The first two gave them zilch, the third turned up the fact that the Gaidelases’ rental car had showed up five weeks after the disappearance, sent them a big bill and said that’s all she could do.”

“The sheriffs never thought to tell the family about the car?”

“Ventura police auto-recovery case, sheriffs weren’t even aware of it.”

“Where was it found?”

“Camarillo. One of the parking lots at that big discount shopping outlet they’ve got there.”

“Huge place,” I said.

“You shop there?”

Twice. With Allison. Waiting as she tried on outfits at Ralph Lauren and Versace. “Five weeks and no one noticed the car?”

He said, “For all we know, it was stashed somewhere and moved. The Gaidelases’ rental contract was for two weeks and when they didn’t return it, the company started phoning the number on the form, got no answer. When the company tried to bill for late charges, they found out the Gaidelases’ credit card and cell phone had been canceled the day after they disappeared. Company kept tacking on fees at a usurious rate of interest. The bill compounded seriously and after thirty days, the debt got assigned to a collection agency. The agency found out the Gaidelases’ number in Ohio, got another disconnect. What’s it sound like to you?”

“A skip.”

“Ten points. Anyway, a lien got put on the Gaidelases’ assets, screwed up their credit rating. Private Sleuth Number Three pulled a credit check and back traced. The Palmers say no way the Gaidelases skipped, the two of them were hyped up about making it as actors, loved California.”

“Did the car get checked for evidence?”

He shook his head. “No reason to check a recovered rental. By now, no one knows where it is. Probably put up for auction and shipped to Mexico.”

“The Camarillo outlet’s miles up the coast from Malibu,” I said. “The Gaidelases could’ve gone hiking and followed up with a shopping trip- duds for auditions. Or they never got out of the hills.”

“Shopping’s unlikely, Alex. The last credit card purchase they made before the account was canceled was lunch at an Italian place in Pacific Palisades the day before. My vote’s for a nature walk turned nasty. Couple of tourists digging the view, never figuring on a predator.”

He pushed eggs around his plate. “Never liked nature. Think it’s worth pursuing?”

“Malibu and a possible acting school link say it needs to be.”

“Dr. Palmer said he’d ask his wife if she was willing to talk. Two minutes later, Dr. Susan Palmer’s secretary phones, says the sooner the better. Susan’s got a dental practice in Brentwood. I’m meeting her for coffee in forty minutes. Let me finish my breakfast. Am I expected to wash my own dishes?”

Dr. Susan Palmer was a thinner, plainer version of her sister. More subdued shade of blond in her short, layered hair, true-blue eyes, a frame that looked too meager for her wide face. She wore a ribbed white silk turtleneck, navy slacks, blue suede loafers with golden buckles. Worry lines framed the eyes and tugged at her mouth.

We were in a Mocha Merchant on San Vicente, in the heart of Brentwood. Sleek people ordered complex six-dollar lattes and pastries the size of an infant’s head. Reproductions of antique coffee grinders hung from cedar-paneled walls. Smooth jazz alternated with Peruvian flute on tape-loop. The scorched smell of overdone beans bittered the air.

Susan Palmer had ordered a “half-caf iced Sumatran Vanilla Blendinesse, part soy, part whole milk, make sure it’s whole, not low-fat.”

My request for a “medium coffee” had confused the kid behind the counter.

I scanned the menu board. “Brew of the day, extra-hot, Medio.”

Milo said, “The same.”

The kid looked as if he’d been cheated out of something.

We brought our drinks to the pine table Susan Palmer had selected at the front of the coffeehouse.

Milo said, “Thanks for meeting with us, Doctor.”

Palmer looked down at her iced drink and stirred. “I should thank you- finally someone’s interested.”

Her smile was abrupt and obligatory. Her hands looked strong. Scrubbed pink, the nails trimmed close and smooth. Dentist’s hands.

“Happy to listen, ma’am.”

“Lieutenant, I’ve come to accept that Cathy and Andy are dead. Maybe that sounds terrible, but after all this time, there’s no other logical explanation. I know about the credit card cancellation and the utilities back in Toledo, but you have to believe me: Cathy and Andy did not run away to start a new life. No way would they do that, it’s not in either of their characters.” She sighed. “Cathy would have no idea where to run.”

“Why’s that, Doctor?”

“My sister was the sweetest person. But unsophisticated.”

“Escape isn’t always sophisticated, Dr. Palmer.”

“Escape would be beyond Cathy. And Andy.” More stirring. The beige concoction foamed unpleasantly. “Let me give you some family background. Our parents are retired professors. Dad taught anatomy at the Medical College of Ohio and Mom taught English at the University of Toledo. My brother, Eric, is an M.D.-Ph.D. doing bioengineering research at Rockefeller U., and I’m a cosmetic orthodontist.”

Another sigh. “Cathy barely made it out of high school.”

“Not a student,” I said.

“Cathy had what I now realize were learning disabilities and with that came all the self-esteem issues you’d expect. Back then we just thought she was…not as sharp as the rest of us. We didn’t mistreat her, just the opposite, we coddled her. She and I had a great relationship, we never fought. She’s two years older but I always felt like the big sister. Everyone in the family was loving and kind but there was this…Cathy had to feel it. Way too much sympathy. When she announced her plans to learn to be a cosmetologist, our parents made such a big deal you’d think she’d gotten into Harvard.”

She tasted her drink, nudged the cup a few inches away. “Mom and Dad are not ebullient people. When my brother did get into Harvard, their reaction was low-key. Cathy had to know she was being patronized.”

Milo said, “She and her husband ran a business. In terms of her ability to plan- ”

Susan Palmer moved her head rapidly, more quiver than shake. “In any other family, Cathy would’ve been able to think of herself as successful. But in ours…the business came about after a long…how can I say this…Cathy got into difficulties. When she was younger.”

“Teenage difficulties?” said Milo.

“Cathy had an extended adolescence. Drugs, drinking, hanging with the wrong crowd. Eight years after high school she still lived at home and did nothing but sleep late and party. A couple of times, she ended up in the E.R. That’s why my parents were thrilled when she went to beauty school. That’s where she met Andy. Perfect match.”

“Andy wasn’t a student, either?” said Milo.

“Andy also struggled through high school,” said Susan Palmer. “He’s nice enough- nice to Cathy, that’s what’s important. They both got jobs as stylists at local salons. But their incomes never progressed much and after ten years, they were still living in a cruddy little apartment. So we set them up. Barry and I, my brother and his wife, Mom and Dad. We found an old commercial building, renovated it, bought beauty equipment. Officially it was a loan but no one’s ever discussed repayment.”

“Locks of Luck,” I said.

“Corny, no? That was Andy’s inspiration.”

“They make money?” said Milo.

“The last few years they were turning a small profit. Mom and Dad still helping out.”

“Mom and Dad are in Toledo?”

“Geographically in Toledo. Psychologically in Denial.”

“They think Cathy and Andy are alive.”

“I’m sure sometimes they even believe it,” said Susan Palmer. “Other times…let’s just say it’s been tough. Mom’s health has deteriorated and Dad’s aged terribly. If you could learn anything, you’d be helping some really nice people.”

Milo said, “Do you have any theories about what happened?”

“The only one that makes sense is that Cathy and Andy went hiking and met some psycho.” Susan Palmer shut and opened her eyes. “I can only imagine. I don’t want to imagine.”

“The morning they went hiking, did anything unusual occur?”

“No, it was just a regular morning. Barry and I both had a full day of patients, we were really rushed. Cathy and Andy were just waking up when we were about to leave. All excited about exploring nature. Barry and I were so hurried, we didn’t pay much attention.” Her eyes misted. “How could I know it would be the last time I’d see my sister?”

She tasted her drink. “I specifically said whole milk, this is low-fat. Idiots.”

Milo said, “I’ll get you another.”

“Forget it,” she snapped. On the brink of tears. Her face softened. “No, thanks, Lieutenant. What else can I tell you?”

“Did Cathy and Andy mention where in Malibu they were headed?”

“Barry and I thought they’d enjoy the ocean, but they had a Triple-A book and wanted to hike somewhere at the top of Kanan Dume Road.”

“Where atop Kanan Dume?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” said Susan Palmer. “I just remember them showing us a map in the book. It looked pretty curvy but that’s what they wanted. We told the sheriffs all this and they said they drove up and checked the area. Frankly, I don’t trust them, they never took us seriously. Barry and I have spent hours driving all over land-side Malibu.” She exhaled. “So much space.”

I said, “Their car was found around twenty-five miles north of Kanan Dume.”

“Which is why I’ve come to believe whatever happened was up in the hills. It had to be that way, right? Why else would someone cancel Cathy and Andy’s credit card if they weren’t trying to cover up something terrible? Same for ditching the car. It was to throw us off the trail.”

“Were Cathy and Andy aware of the discount outlets?”

“We never told them about it, but maybe from the Triple-A book.” She placed both elbows on the table. “My sister and brother-in-law were simple, direct people. If they said they were going hiking up in Malibu, they went hiking up in Malibu. No way would they just disappear and go off on some crazy adventure.”

“They did have one fantasy,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Acting.”

“That,” she said. “During those eight years after high school Cathy managed to convince herself she was going to be an actress. Or a model, depending on what day it was. Not that she ever did anything to pursue those goals beyond reading fan magazines. My mother knew the owner of Dillman’s department store and they gave Cathy a runway job modeling spring fashions. Cathy’s pretty, when she was young she was gorgeous. But by that time a few years older and not exactly anorexic.”

She sniffed and held her breath for several seconds. “I flew out to attend the show. Mom and I sat in the front row and we both bought clothing we didn’t need. The following spring, Dillman’s didn’t ask Cathy back.”

“How’d she react?” I said.

“She didn’t. Which was Cathy’s way, she’d just take every bit of indignity as if she deserved to be disappointed. We all hated when Cathy got disappointed. That’s why Mom encouraged her to take some acting lessons. Adult Ed at the community center, musical revivals, that kind of thing. Mom wanted Cathy engaged in something and Cathy finally agreed. She seemed to be having a good time. Then she stopped and announced she was going to become a cosmetologist. That’s why Barry and I were shocked when she and Andy got here and announced they’d come to pursue acting.”

“Was it Andy’s dream, as well?”

“It was Cathy’s dream but Andy got with the program, like he always did.”

Milo said, “That can make for a good marriage.”

“Andy and Cathy were best friends. It was almost…I don’t want to say platonic, but the truth is, I’ve always wondered, and so did my husband and my brother and anyone who’s met Andy.”

“Wondered about what?”

“His being gay.”

“Because he’s a hairdresser,” said Milo.

“It’s more than that. Andy has a definite feminine side to him. He’s really good at clothes and decorating and cooking and that sounds prejudiced but if you met him, you’d understand.” She blinked. “Maybe he was one of those effeminate straight men. It doesn’t matter, does it? He loved my sister. They adored each other.”

Milo said, “The missing persons file mentioned something about acting schools.”

“It did?”

“You’re surprised, Doctor?”

“I told the sheriff that but I had no idea he actually wrote it down. Is it important?”

“Anything that fills in Cathy and Andy’s activities during their trip to L.A. could be important. They mention specific schools?”

“No, the only thing they talked about was tourist stuff. Disneyland, Universal City Walk, Hollywood and Vine- they went to the Hollywood museum on Vine, the old Max Factor building. That they loved, because of the emphasis on hair and makeup. Andy kept talking about the Blonde Room, the Brunette Room- ” She brightened. “Maybe they found an acting school in Hollywood. There’s bound to be some there, right?”

“More than a few.”

“I’d be willing to check, Lieutenant. I’ll call every single one.”

“I’ll do it, Dr. Palmer.”

She eyed him warily.

“Cross my heart.”

“Sorry, it’s just…I need to relax and trust someone. I get a good feeling about you, Lieutenant.”

Milo’s turn to blush.

“I hope I’m right,” said Susan Palmer.