Bernard DeLeo - Cold Blooded

“Okay.” Jean sighed, plunking down in the seat next to him. “I’ll be more careful. Hey, do you know how to make pancakes?”

“Absolutely.” He moved to the counter nearest the stove. He took pancake mix out of the cupboard along with a four cup mixing bowl. After collecting an egg and milk from the refrigerator, he gestured Jean over. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it, too, Danger. Do you like bacon with your pancakes?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Rachel woke smelling the aroma of bacon drifting up through the house, one of the most tantalizing odors in the world. She sat up groggily, glad Nick had bullied her into her own bedroom after they had showered together. The thought of explaining to Jean a relationship change involving her suddenly sleeping in Nick’s bed did not appeal to her. The alarm clock on her nightstand read eight-thirty. She wondered idly how long her two cohorts had been up. After donning her robe, she made a quick trip to the bathroom before going downstairs. She could hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Pausing at the kitchen entryway, she saw Deke doing somersaults to get small pieces of bacon thrown to him. Nick noticed her, and gave her a quick salute.

“You’re just in time for breakfast.” He walked over to the oven and took the leftover pancakes and bacon out. “I saved you a plate all warmed up. Good thing you came down when you did. Deke is getting demanding.”

“Nick taught me how to make pancakes, Mom,” Jean told her. “He calls me Danger Girl, and Danger for short. I like it.”

“Wonderful.” Rachel grimaced as she sat down and took the plate from Nick, along with a napkin containing silverware. “You could have slept in at least until eight, Nick.”

“Diego waits for no one,” he stated solemnly, while placing a mug in front of her. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. I don’t think I even moved. Did you already check the news?”

“There’s nothing on the internet. The local news starts at nine. I’ve been meaning to bring this up, but you two trouble magnets keep cramming our days full of adventure. I think it would be a good idea to dye your hair darker.”

“Mom already bought the dye at the store.”

“We should have done it in Monterrey.”

“Then they would have known.” Nick pushed Deke away from the table. “This way, maybe we get a little extra time.”

“These are really good,” Rachel pointed at her pancakes. “Did -”

The doorbell rang, and Deke ran to the door. Nick made a calming gesture.

“Easy…easy…not everyone in this town is out to get us.”

Nick walked to the entrance and looked through the security eyelet. Two police officers stood on the front stoop. Nick looked them over carefully, from their shoes to how they wore their belts and badges. As the taller one reached for the doorbell again, Nick opened it, kneeling down to quiet the growling Deke.

“Good morning,” Nick greeted them.

“I’m Officer Mendez, and this is my partner, Officer Carrington. Are you Roscoe Weatherby?”

“Yes?” He assumed a questioning look and stood up.

“May we come in? We have some questions for you about a missing person’s case.”

“Sure,” Nick said, opening the screen door, as Rachel and Jean came out of the kitchen. Jean beckoned to Deke and the dog went to her reluctantly. “This is my wife Rachel and daughter Jean.”

Some of the tenseness left the police officers’ faces at the appearance of Rachel and Jean. Rachel clasped Nick’s arm. She leaned into him with a natural grace.

“What’s this about, hon?”

“Something about a missing person,” he answered, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Would either of you like some coffee? We were having breakfast.”

“Sure.” The dark-skinned Carrington nodded with a smile. “I’ll have a cup if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Thank you,” Mendez added, following Nick, Rachel, Jean, and Deke into the kitchen.

Mendez and Carrington sat down at the kitchen table next to each other, opposite Rachel and Jean, while Nick poured two mugs of coffee. After placing the mugs in front of the officers, he set milk, sugar bowl, spoons, and napkins down too. He sat next to Rachel. Mendez took a picture out of his right breast pocket, setting the picture down in front of Nick. It was a picture of Carl Brewster with a fishing pole in hand, holding out a stringer with two trout.

“Have you seen this man?”

“The day before yesterday,” Nick replied, picking up the picture for a closer look and then handing it to Rachel. “His name was Carl something…”

“Brewster,” Rachel finished on cue.

“That’s it,” Nick agreed. “He said he worked security for a neighbor of ours we met over at the Excalibur. Apparently, when our neighbor’s husband goes out of town on business, Brewster watches over the mom, and the two kids.”

“Do you know the neighbor’s name?” Carrington glanced down at a notepad he had in hand.

“Benoit,” Nick answered. “We got together with Suzan Benoit and her kids. What’re the kids’ names, Jean?”

“Kelly and Garth,” Jean put in, smiling with enthusiasm, knowing she was playing a part in a very adult game.

“Do you remember what car Mr. Brewster was driving?” Mendez questioned in a more relaxed tone.

“I only glanced at it when he left, but I think it was a Toyota of some kind…silver colored. Is Brewster the one you’re looking for?”

“The woman he’s living with reported him missing when he didn’t come home. She said he left early Friday afternoon, saying he needed to check out something. Your address was on his day planner,” Mendez explained. “Did he say where he was going after leaving you?”

“He did say something about being late for a meeting with two associates, named Joe and Craig. Suzan didn’t say anything about him when we were over at the Benoit house yesterday. They’re coming over for a barbeque today. Should I ask her to call you?”

“No, we’ve been over to see Ms. Benoit already.” Carrington put away his notebook, and handed Nick a business card. “She told us she hadn’t seen Brewster since Friday. We found his Toyota already, but no sign of Brewster. Thanks for your cooperation, folks. If you remember anything else, please call us.”

“Sorry to have bothered you on a Sunday like this,” Mendez added, as the two police officers stood up.

“No problem.” Nick escorted them to the door.

“Will you be leaving us soon, Mr. Weatherby? Ms. Benoit said you stay in Las Vegas for short periods of time.”

“I’ll be here for another two weeks. I have business back East after that, but you can reach me -”

“Ms. Benoit gave us the number to reach you from your business card,” Carrington finished for him. “We’ll call if we think of anything else.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Weatherby,” Mendez added as the two walked out past Nick.

“Goodbye.” Nick watched them walk out to their squad car with the familiar buzz he inadvertently experienced when details flowed together around him to his advantage. Now if my Roscoe ID holds up, we may last through our two-week cushion .

“Everything okay, Nick?” Rachel joined Nick at the entrance with Jean and Deke.

“Everything’s fine for now. Nice going in there, both of you. The barbeque should be interesting later.”

Rachel and Jean walked into the living room where Nick watched the news. Both had towels around their necks.

“Hey, Nick, how do we look?” Jean asked.

He looked up from the television screen, doing a double take at the obvious change. Rachel and Jean had both dyed their hair a dark brown, with some lighter brown highlights.