Peter Van Husen felt sick to his stomach. Looking at the nervous young man who was sitting at the table across from him, Peter had an almost overwhelming desire to jump up and run from the police station, run as far as he could from Schuyler Square, Mavis Schuyler and the disaster area that his life had become. But he couldn't do that. He had to be professional, act like a grown up and help this kid see that wherever his mother was, the odds were pretty good that she was coming back. After all, no kidnapper in his right mind would hold onto Mavis Schuyler for a nanosecond longer than necessary.
"OK, Tyler, let's go over your story one more time. Your mom is missing and you think something must have happened to her. Is it possible that she might have just decided to take some time off--you know, to go shopping or slip off to a spa for a couple of days?"
Tyler shook his blond head vehemently. "No. Mom goes to her spa--The Hedonistic Hacienda--once every six weeks but it's always scheduled ahead of time. She'd never go there without a reservation. She wouldn't be able to get in. They're always booked solid."
"I see." Peter tapped his pen against the table. "Any chance she's visiting a friend?"
"My mom doesn't really have any friends."
Guilt washed over Peter like a huge, heavy, black tidal wave. She had one friend, a very special friend. Him. Stop beating yourself up. It's over! You'll never see Mavis again. Concentrate on your job and forget about what you've done. "Maybe she has friends you aren't aware of," Peter suggested.
"She might but the fact remains that she's missing," Tyler said impatiently. "Shouldn't you be doing something like telling the rest of the police department to start looking for her?"
"We'll be doing that shortly but I really don't think you have anything to worry about. I'm sure your mom will turn up soon." Peter was sure of that. He was guessing that Mavis, ticked with him for taking off, was still at the County Line Inn, probably taking a nap or watching one of the shopping networks on cable and biding her time until she could make a dramatic reappearance. Mavis wasn't stupid; if she wanted to make her family and her lover worry about her, what better way than to be incommunicado for a day or so? Granted, it wasn't all that smart but Peter knew that when it came down to being the center of attention or doing the right thing, attention grabbing was going to win every single time with Mavis.
"I hope you're right," Tyler said darkly, "because if anything happened to her, heads are going to roll."
All right, this was getting ridiculous. Mavis wasn't sure how long she'd been trapped in the tool shed but she did know that it had been completely TOO long. The joke was over, she was a better person now, yada yada yada--she'd say whatever her captor wanted her to say as long as he or she opened the shed door and let her out!
A noise sounded outside the shed. Mavis held her breath. "Who's there? she called out. "Are you going to let me out?"
She heard the lock on the door being pulled open and slowly the shed door was pulled back. Mavis suddenly had a hard time breathing. Maybe whoever it was planned on finishing her off, maybe this was it, her time was up. Mavis squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Dear God, I'm sorry I've been such a not so nice person but please don't let me die now! There're still a lot of things I want to do like visit the West Indies and try having my hair dyed that new shade of brown my stylist recommended. Oh, and I want to do nice things for poor people too--
"Who are you?"
Mavis's eyes flew open and stared at the stranger standing in front of her. She saw an older man with white hair holding a cane and wearing glasses that were so thick that he looked like Mr. Magoo. "Who are you?" she responded testily. "And why did you lock me up in your tool shed?
The man scratched his head. "Lady, I've never seen you before in my life but if you broke my lawn mower you're going to have to buy me a new one."
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