Leslie Glass - Tracking Time

"And when did Dylan contact him?" this from the Chinese.

"Ahh, well, she might have been following him. I don't think they knew each other. Dylan promised her father that she wouldn't contact him. But she was angry at him and… you know kids. They don't always keep their promises." Grace dabbed at her eyes.

"Angry at… Maslow?"

"No, her father."

The two detectives exchanged glances again. Grace was afraid she'd said something she shouldn't have.

"Maybe I'm wrong. I'm just-I'm very upset. I don't know where she is, and he's missing, too. It's all so horrible. Both of them missing. It's-"

"Miss Rodriguez, did you know your daughter is seeing a psychiatrist?"

Grace was shocked. "Dylan? No. She would never- what makes you think that?"

"Do you have a photo of her?" Sanchez asked.

"Um, not with me. I can get one." Grace put the tissue to her nose. A psychiatrist? Where was this leading? Had Dylan gone crazy? Was she in a hospital?

Sergeant Woo pulled a thick stack of photos out of her purse and shuffled through them. Finally she found the one she was looking for. "Is this Dylan?"

Grace took the picture and stared at it. Her daughter's thin face stared out at her from a frame of long black hair.

"Where did you get this?" Grace was astounded. "It was taken yesterday afternoon at Maslow Atkins's office."

"No!" Grace couldn't believe it.

"Maslow is a psychiatrist. Dylan was in treatment with him. She called herself Allegra Caldera. When we spoke with her, she was waiting for her five p.m. appointment."

Grace closed her eyes. A little tear squeezed out. She never would have imagined that her daughter could devise such a scheme. Amazing. Dylan had outwitted her father and found her own way to get to know her brother. Grace dabbed at her wet eyes. She couldn't help feeling a little surge of pride at her daughter's ingenuity. Waiting for her appointment! So there had been a man in her life. A brother. A giggle erupted from her throat like a bubble in a fish tank. Dylan had a touch of her father's deviousness. "Where is she?" she asked.

"Maslow and Dylan had a fight on Tuesday afternoon, and Dylan may be the last person who saw him before he disappeared," Woo was saying.

"What?" The fabric of Grace's suit was soaked under the arms.

"She was seen with him just before he went into the park."

Grace was confused. "But you said you saw her yesterday in his office. Did she know why you were there? Did you know who she was?"

"Yes, she knew we were looking for Maslow. No, she didn't tell us she was his sister. She was pretending to be someone else. She didn't appear to know he was missing."

"Well, how did your conversation end? Where did she go? You don't suspect her of anything…?" The question hung in the air.

The Chinese woman spoke softly. "I told her I wanted to talk with her again. She said that was fine with her, gave me a fake telephone number, and took off." Sergeant Woo looked as disturbed by the whole thing as Grace was.

The lieutenant got up quickly and left the two women alone together. The Chinese detective kept her for a long time asking her many questions about Dylan's life and her activities in the last few months, but although Grace talked a great deal, she didn't seem to know her daughter very well.

At half past one David and Brandy were back on the East Side having cheeseburgers in the Plaza Diner. Brandy had finished hers and was chewing on one of her waffle fries when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her knapsack and watched her mother's home number pop up.

"Hey, Mom, what's up?" she answered, feeling pretty good about herself and her day.

"Oh, God, Brandy! I'm so glad you're alive," Cheryl cried.

"Of course, I'm alive. What's the matter? You sound weird."

"Jesus H. Christ. I just got a call from a detective. That's what's the matter. Do I need this right now? Do I?"

"Is Dad spying on you again, Mom? I thought that was all over."

"It's not that kind of detective. It's a police detective, and it's not about me, Brandy. It's about you."

"Me? Wow."

"Where were you last night? I want to know what the fuck you've been up to, you little bitch."

Brandy took a French fry and doused it in catsup. "Mom, you know it hurts my feelings when you talk to me that way."

"Brandy, you get me all upset. I swear to God you're a menace. I hate to think about it. Where the hell are you?"

"I'm in the locker room at school. I'm getting ready for gym. And you should speak a little softer. Everybody can hear you, Mom. Do you want them to think you're crazy?"

"Listen to me. I'm going to speak as loud as I fucking please, you hear me? What are you trying to do, ruin my life?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was at home with you. You had your plastic surgery, remember? You were feeling like shit. I was keeping you company."

"You were not keeping me company. I have no memory of that."

"Well, you remember your surgery, don't you?" Brandy had another French fry and offered one to David. He looked worried so she gave him a little squeeze under the table.

Cheryl shut up for a moment. "Look, Brandy, that is a little secret between you and me. You don't have to tell the entire world about my personal business."

"Fine, I won't mention it. But I was home with you. I can't help it if you were taking painkillers and didn't know what's going on."

"Brandy, I'm only going to ask you this once because I need to feel we have an open and honest relationship. Did you do something that requires the attention of the New York City Police Department? Tell me the truth, because your dad is going to-"

"Uh-uh, no way."

"Fine. Good. That's all I have to hear. I will believe that." Pause. "Then how come this Lieutenant Sanchez had your name and telephone number and is coming over to talk to you?"

"I'm going to get my name in the newspaper. I may get a medal."

"You, Brandy Fabman, are going to get a medal? Excuse me, but I must have missed something."

"I told you yesterday this guy was missing in the park. And I-"

"What were you doing in the park? I thought you were with your father."

"That was Tuesday."

"What was yesterday?"

"Yesterday was Wednesday. I walked home through the park."

"The way home from school does not go through the park. And I told you-"

"Jesus. It was daylight. The park is fine in the daytime. Don't you want to hear my story?"

"Okay, tell me the story."

"I was walking through the park and there was this dog. It was a tracking dog, but not as great a dog as Peachy. Remember Peachy?"

Big sigh. "Yes, Brandy. I remember Peachy found you covered with cow manure in Montauk."

"Yes, yes." Brandy bounced in her chair. "In a nursery greenhouse. Anyway, it was so cool. These cops were asking everybody questions, you know, looking for this guy. And because of the tracking dog there, I told them all about John. I told them John's dog was much smarter than their dog. And you know what? You won't believe this, Mom. This Chinese cop, she knew John. She actually knew him. So, like, we have this great conversation, and I go, 'Call John and have him look for the guy.'

"And you know what? She did call John. Today Peachy was out there and he found the guy. Isn't that just amazing? I solved the case. I'm a celebrity. Maybe I should be a cop, Mom. She had this big gun. She told me I could shoot it and everything."

Another big sigh. "Brandy, why didn't you tell me all this yesterday?"

"I didn't know they'd find him."

"About the dog and the cops and all that. You didn't mention any of it. In fact, I don't remember seeing you last night. We didn't have dinner together, did we?"