J. Jance - Web of Evil

But blaming herself and agonizing about her mother accomplished nothing. She forced herself to turn back to the McLaughlin interview.

"What about the Pink Swan?" she asked.

"If it's a topless place with illegal gambling and they don't do surveillance tapes, that means they appeal to a clientele with plenty to hide."

"It's also the place where Jake hosted Paul's bachelor party."

"I'll turn Easy on to that, too. But from the sound of it, the Pink Swan is probably already on the DEA's radar."

"And then there's Roseanne," Ali added thoughtfully. "I wonder about her."

"Maxwell's wife?"

Ali nodded. "If I didn't know what was going on, I wonder if Roseanne did."

"Too bad we don't know where to find her."

"Maybe somebody does," Ali said determinedly. She passed Dave her phone. "Punch the green button. That'll give you my list of made calls. Look for Helga Myerhoff."

"Your divorce lawyer?" Dave asked. "How come?"

"She specializes in high-profile divorce cases. If Roseanne and Jake are splitting the sheets, you can figure there's a lawyer involvedor a whole bevy of them. Helga's more likely than anyone else to know which ones."

Dave found the number, pressed it, and then handed the phone to Ali.

"I didn't know they were getting a divorce," Helga said, once Ali had said her piece. "But I can't say I'd be surprised."

"Because Jake's involved with another woman?" Ali asked.

"Because they're broke," Helga returned. "Relatively speaking, of course."

Jake Maxwell hadn't looked broke earlier that evening. Anything but.

"Even in somewhat straitened circumstances, however," Helga continued, "everyone I know would have been panting after Roseanne Maxwell and hoping to land her as a client."

"How can Jake Maxwell be broke?" Ali asked.

"Lost his job, bad investments, gambling?" Helga said. "Take your pick. There are lots of ways to go broke in this town."

"You're saying Jake lost his job?" Ali asked.

"You didn't know that? It happened several months ago nowsome kind of corporate job consolidation move. Paul and Jake ended up going head-to-head for the same job. Paul got the jobJake Maxwell got a golden handshake. That's why I was a little surprised when he showed up at court on Friday to be in Paul's corner, but then sometimes people turn out to be better than you think they are."

Or worse, Ali thought.

"Getting back to Roseanne," Helga finished. "I do have some connections. If she's holed up somewhere, someone I know will know where to find her."

"Thanks."

"Victor wanted you to call. Have you talked to him yet?"

"No."

"If you're driving all over hell and gone, you should probably let him know from you exactly what you're up to."

Ali knew what Victor would saystay put; don't talk to anyone; let the cops look for her mother.

"I'll call him," Ali agreed. Eventually.

Once off the phone, she recounted to Dave everything that had been said. "Makes sense," he said. "If Jake was needing to make some quick cash, someone may have made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"But Paul wasn't broke," Ali returned. "Why would he be mixed up in it?"

Dave shook his head. "I have no idea."

By then they were pulling into the hotel entrance. "Do you want me to come up?" Dave asked.

"No," she said. "Dad and Chris will be here soon. I'm going to take a shower and put my feet up for a few minutes. I may even try closing my eyes."

"Good idea," Dave said. He hopped out of the Cayenne and headed for his own car.

Ali handed her car keys over to the parking valet and headed straight into the lobby. If there were reporters waiting there, she'd tough her way through them.

Opening the door to her room Ali hoped, through some miracle, Edie would be there waiting for her, but of course she wasn't. The room was emptydark and empty. Ali slipped off her shoes, sank onto the couch, and, as promised, rested her feet on the coffee table. She had spent the last hours busily doing somethingplaying detective and trying to find her mother. Now, in the quiet stillness, the awful reality began to sink in. Perhaps Edie really was lost to herlost to all of them. Perhaps there would be no more of Edie's steaming, soft-centered homemade sweet rolls at Sedona's Sugar Loaf Cafe. Perhaps Ali would never again sit over a hot cup of coffee, listening to and often disregarding her mother's good advice. Perhaps she would never again witness one of her parents' never-ending rounds of good-natured teasing.

It was that realizationthat losing her mother would be harder on Bob Larson than on anyone elsewhich finally goaded Ali to action. She picked up her computer and logged on.

CUTLOOSEBLOG.COM

Sunday, September 18, 2005

My mother is missing. Edie Darlene Larson, age 61, of Sedona, Arizona, disappeared from a hotel lobby in L.A. early this afternoon. She was last seen driving away from the Westwood Hotel on Wilshire in her white 2003 Oldsmobile Alero. Edie is five foot seven, has medium-length gray hair, fair skin, and weighs approximately 140 pounds. She also wears two hearing aids. (She'll kill me for printing that.) Anyone with information about Edie should contact LAPD's Missing Persons Unitand me!

Posted 10:23 P .M., September 18, 2005 by Babe

There was far more she wanted to say, would have said, but this was a case where less was more. She deliberately made no mention of Edie's encounter with Tracy McLaughlin. If, as Dave suspected, this whole thing was tied to a drug-smuggling ring, it was better to leave that out. Ali stripped off her clothes and was about to step into the shower when her cell phone rang. Grabbing it off the counter, she was amazed to see her mother's name in the caller ID readout.

Sick with relief, Ali shouted into the phone, "Mom! Is that you? Are you all right? Where are you?"

Except there was no answer. Ali could hear a rustling sound and distant voices, but no one was talking directly to her. Maybe it was just a bad connection. Frustrated, Ali punched the volume button on the side of her phone. "Mom. Can you hear me?" she called again.

There was more rustling and then she heard her mother's voice. "What in the world do you think you're doing?"

"I'm trying to talk to you," Ali answered. "Where are you? What's going on?"

Someone elseanother womanwas speaking in the background. Alice could hear the voice but not clear enough to make out any of the individual words.

"You need to let me go," Edie said clearly and firmly. "This is stupid. It makes no sense."

That's when Ali realized she was listening in on what people at the Sugar Loaf called Edie's infamous "bra calls." Because that's where Edie Larson always carried her phonein her bra. At work her apron pockets usually overflowed with order pads and pencils. When she had added a cell phone into the mix, it hadn't worked, so she had opted for stowing her phone in the only other available spottucked inside her bra. Because Edie didn't always remember to activate her key guard, she occasionally made accidental calls, burning up minutes and inadvertently revealing all kinds of mundane details of life in a restaurant to several different hapless recipients.

Ali knew at once, however, that this call was no accident. Whoever was with Edie had no idea she was in possession of a cell phone. They also had no idea she had figured out a way to signal for help. And instead of dialing 911, Edie had simply punched "send."

There was a murmured answer in response to her mother's comment, but nothing Ali could make out.

"Why are you doing this?" Edie demanded, sounding more agitated. "Where are we? In a basement somewhere?"

So her mother had been blindfolded or maybe even unconscious. She had no idea where she was, and she was being held there against her will.