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Chapter 28

Myron opened the apartment door, trying to nudge himself back in the mood, though he wasn’t really worried. At the end of the day, sexist or not, he was a guy. Guys are remarkably consistent about this part of their lives. Ladies, here’s a little seduction tip: It doesn’t take a lot to get your man in the mood. You know this already. You see all those articles in women’s magazines about how to seduce your man, how to use massage oils or candles or music to get him in the mood. Men, for better or worse, aren’t that complicated. Here are two short articles on how to seduce your man: “Ask him if he wants to have sex.” And: “Say, ‘Yes, that would be nice.’”

He smiled at the thought, already returning to form, when he entered the apartment and saw that they had company.

Esperanza was there.

“Sorry for the cock block,” she said.

Myron ignored her for the moment and swept Terese into his arms. They just held each other in a tight embrace. That was all. A simple, deep hug. Myron closed his eyes. Terese pulled him even closer.

Esperanza said, “We, uh, have ten minutes, if you want me to wait outside.”

They let each other go and still held hands.

Myron arched an eyebrow. “A full ten minutes?”

“Oooh,” Terese said, “time for extended foreplay.”

“You two are cute,” Esperanza said in a voice that indicated that they were anything but. “You know how it’s never annoying to be around people madly in love? That.”

“Want to tell us why you’re here?” Myron asked her.

“I got the information on that residence faster than you might have liked. The town house is owned by a Jesse and Mindy Rogers. Big bucks. Dad is a hedge fund guy. Mom is a career diplomat. They have a sixteen-year-old daughter named Tamryn.”

“So why do we only have ten minutes?”

“She’s doing a summer internship at Fox News on Avenue of the Americas and Forty-Eighth Street. The News Corp building, like pretty much every high-rise in Manhattan, has security and requires ID to enter. Her ten-hour shift starts at two P.M., so if we get over there now-”

“We can maybe talk to her before she gets inside.”

“Right.”

Myron looked at Terese. “Will you wait for me?”

“Better than starting without you.”

“Not sure about that,” Esperanza added.

Both women laughed. Myron did not.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Myron and Esperanza were standing on the Avenue of the Americas in front of the high-rise when Myron finally asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Tom wants to negotiate custody of Hector now.”

“Hey, that’s great news.”

Esperanza just stared at him. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You’re going to lie to me now?”

“I didn’t touch him, I swear.”

“What did you do?”

“I just paid Tom a little visit.”

“You mean like Win does?”

“No, I didn’t go near his apartment.”

“Where, then?”

“It was outside a nightclub,” Myron said. Then: “Do you know your ex-husband is sporting a man bun now? He’s over forty, isn’t he?”

“Don’t deflect attention from the matter at hand. What did you do?”

“I nicely suggested he make peace with you.”

“That wouldn’t sway Tom.”

“I may have mentioned that Win was back.”

Esperanza tried not to smile at the thought of Tom’s face when he heard that. “You shouldn’t have done that without telling me.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s so patronizing, you know that, right?”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“It may also be vaguely sexist,” Esperanza said. “If Tom were a woman, would you have made the same threat?”

Myron opened his mouth, closed it, spread his hands. “Did I mention he was sporting a man bun?”

She sighed. “Okay, I can’t argue with that.”

They stood and waited.

“Remember when you asked me why I didn’t say anything before you married Tom?”

“It was a few days ago. I can sometimes remember back a whole week.”

“I told you I didn’t think it was my business to interfere. Do you remember what you replied?”

Esperanza nodded and quoted herself: “‘Whose business was it, then?’”

“Right,” Myron said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

That was when he spotted the teenage girl who had gone to Ripley’s with Patrick Moore. Myron gestured to Esperanza. She nodded back. They’d already agreed to approach her together, figuring that as a couple, they might come across as less threatening and yet more authoritative.

Esperanza took the lead. “Tamryn Rogers?”

She stopped, looked at Myron, then back at Esperanza. “Yes.”

“My name is Esperanza Diaz.”

“I’m Myron Bolitar.”

“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

She took half a step back. “Are you cops?”

“No, nothing like that,” Esperanza said.

“I’m sixteen,” Tamryn Rogers replied. “Talking to strangers isn’t really my thing. So, uh, bye, now.”

Esperanza glanced at Myron. They both got it. Nice wasn’t going to work here. Myron went straight at it.

“I saw you today,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“At Ripley’s. A few hours ago. I saw you.”

Tamryn Rogers’s mouth formed a small O. “You’re following me?”

“No. I was following Patrick.”

“Who?”

Esperanza took that one. “The boy you met up with today.”

“That’s not…” She stopped herself and took another step away from them. “I didn’t meet up with anybody.”

“I saw you,” Myron said.

“Saw what exactly?”

“You met up with Patrick Moore.”

“I went to a museum,” she said. “Some boy started talking to me. That’s all.”

Myron frowned at Esperanza. Esperanza frowned at Tamryn. “So you didn’t know the boy before today?”

“No.”

“Never saw him before?”

“Never.”

“You always hug boys you’ve never met?” Myron asked. “Give them a little kiss on the cheek before you leave?”

“Look, no one is trying to get anyone in trouble here,” Esperanza said. “We are just looking for the truth.”

“By spying on me?” She turned to Myron. “I’m sixteen years old. What kind of man spies on a sixteen-year-old?”

“A man who is trying to find another sixteen-year-old,” Myron said. “A man who is trying to find a boy who has been missing for ten years.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” Myron said. “How do you know Patrick?”

“I told you. I don’t know him. He just started talking to me.”

“That’s not true,” Myron said.

“You”-Tamryn pointed at Myron-“stay away from me.” Then she turned to Esperanza. “You too. Leave me the hell alone or I’m going to scream for help.”

She started toward the door.

“We could talk to your parents,” Myron said.

“Go ahead,” she shouted, drawing a few glances. “Just leave me alone!”

She hurried toward the glass door and entered. Myron and Esperanza watched her take out her ID, swipe it, and head toward the elevators. When she was out of sight, Myron said, “I think that went well, don’t you?”

“So,” Myron said to Esperanza, “how does a wealthy girl from Manhattan know a boy who has been missing ten years?”

“Most obvious answer is that he hasn’t been missing for ten years,” Esperanza said.

“Then where has he been?”

“Or more to the point, who is he? If he’s really Patrick Moore-”

“Did you catch how she balked when I first said his name?”

“Like she didn’t know him by it,” Esperanza said. “In a way, it’s the only thing that makes sense. If he’s Patrick Moore who was kidnapped ten years ago, I don’t know that Tamryn Rogers would know him. But if he’s an imposter…”

“Then maybe,” Myron said. “Of course, we would still need to figure out how a rich New York teen would know our imposter.”

“Oh, that one’s easier,” Esperanza said.

“Do tell.”

“We women love a bad boy. You think, what, rich Tamryn only knows wealthy socialites?”

Myron thought about that. “You think she’s slumming?”

“I don’t know. But it’s certainly possible. First, we need to figure out if the boy you rescued is Patrick Moore or not. What’s the story with the DNA test?”

“We got it over to Joe Corless at the lab,” Myron said. “He said it might take a few days. Some problem with the collection. He’s having trouble finding a hair with a decent root on it. The DNA off the toothbrush might be contaminated. I don’t know all the details. In the meantime, we need to get all we can on Tamryn Rogers.”

“I’ll do all the traditional sleuthing,” Esperanza said. “But as she repeatedly just told us, she’s a sixteen-year-old girl.”

“Meaning?”

“How about we get that Spoon kid on it too? He can figure out the social media angles.”

“Good idea.”

“Mickey wants to meet with me anyway,” Esperanza said. “I’ll get him the info for Spoon.”

Myron made a face. “Wait, why does Mickey want to meet with you?”

Esperanza shrugged. “He didn’t say; I didn’t ask. Now, get back to your apartment and defile your honey.”

“I don’t ‘defile.’”

“Then you’re not doing it right,” Esperanza said with a wink. She gave Myron a kiss on the cheek. “Stay safe, okay?”

“You too.”

They split up. Myron hopped in a taxi. He texted Terese: On my way. You ready?

Myron’s heart sank when he saw the answer: Uh, no.

When Myron got back to the apartment, Win was there.

“Sorry for the cock block,” he said.