“Neither do I,” she admitted. “But why would anyone take off? Why not stay hidden?”
“Maybe he thought we’d come looking for him. Or had a key or would break the damned door down. Who knows?” Nick strode to the truck and flung open the passenger door. “Come on, let’s go.”
She didn’t argue. Didn’t like the cold feeling that crept up her spine.
Once inside the truck, Nick headed south. He didn’t say much, his eyes narrowing on the traffic ahead, his brow furrowed, his fingers clamped around the steering wheel.
“You have an appointment with Paterno, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve got the address of the station in here.” She opened her purse, withdrew the detective’s business card from the empty bag. “You know, no one has found the purse I had with me on the night of the accident and so I don’t have anything to prove I’m who I say I am. No ID, no money, nothing. I assume I had a driver’s license, a social security card, credit cards and probably a set of keys and a garage door opener.”
“Your purse wasn’t with you?” He guided the truck into the narrow lanes of the Golden Gate Bridge and Marla stared west to the calming waters of the Pacific where fishing trawlers and tankers were visible on the horizon. The sky, once brilliant, had turned a darker hue as heavy clouds rolled steadily inland.
“That’s what the police say, but I haven’t found it in the house, either.” She shoved her fingers through the short strands of her hair in frustration. “But the ring my father gave me, I found. In a jewelry box I’m sure I searched a dozen times before. It’s almost as if someone planted it there.”
“Who knew it was missing?”
“Just about everyone.”
“Alex?”
“Yes. Why? Do you think he would take it?” Marla asked, though she’d considered the possibility herself. Her husband was so secretive, so overly protective, acted as if he were afraid of God-only-knew-what.
“I don’t know,” Nick admitted shifting down, “but he did leave in the middle of the night last night and he might have gone to see Conrad without telling anyone.”
“Not that it’s a sin to visit your ailing father-in-law,” she reminded him.
“But it’s secretive. He’s always been that way, even as a kid. Right now, he’s worse than ever.” Nick stood on the brakes to avoid rear-ending a minivan that had stopped suddenly. “I wonder what the hell he’s mixed up in.” The traffic cleared and he stepped on the throttle. They drove through the Presidio and Nick turned south. “Before we meet the police, let’s see your brother.”
“Yes. I would like that,” Marla said, though she steeled herself for another rejection. She didn’t expect Rory to take to her any more kindly than her father had.
It was worse than she imagined. The building was old but had been renovated, the gold brick face clean and neat, the interior bright. “I’m sorry,” she was told by the nurse at the reception desk after explaining her plight. “No one but family is allowed in. If you don’t have any proof that you’re Marla Cahill, then I can’t allow you to pass.”
“What about me? I’m Marla’s brother-in-law.” Nick whipped out his wallet and flashed his Oregon driver’s license.
“Sorry.” She shook her head, then she smiled benignly at Marla. “When you have some identification, you can visit your brother.”
“But—”
“Hospital rules.”
They got no further with an administrator and Marla left the brick building feeling discouraged. “So far we’ve been on a wild goose chase,” she grumbled, pulling the collar of her coat closer to her neck as they walked along the sidewalk.
“Maybe things will improve.” But Nick’s voice didn’t hold a lot of conviction.
They piled into the truck and Nick drove toward the police station. Skyscrapers cast shadows over the city streets and pedestrians clogged the sidewalks. Rickshaws and bicyclists vied with cars, trucks and vans. Somewhere a few streets over a siren screamed.
“Did Alex tell you where he went last night?” Nick asked.
“I haven’t seen him today. I’m not even sure that he came back to the house,” she admitted. “Carmen told me he had early meetings this morning.”
“It’s not the first time he left.” Nick eyed the street signs, then turned left. “The other night, after he brought you back from your appointment with Dr. Robertson, he took off again. He didn’t tell you about it?”
“No,” she admitted, her fingers trailing on the armrest of the truck and a bad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “What my husband does is a mystery to me.” She tried to find an excuse for Alex’s actions and failed. “I know he’s been in some big negotiations with some Japanese businessmen, investors, I think, but other than that I don’t have a clue as to what it is he does.”
“Don’t you think that’s odd?”
She chuckled humorlessly as he braked for a taxi that nosed into his lane. “I think my whole life is odd, Nick,” she admitted. “A husband who doesn’t confide in me, a daughter who rejects me, a mother-in-law who acts like I need a keeper, a baby whom I just remembered, a father who despises me and thinks I’m an imposter, and a brother-in-law who . . . who . . .”