Where Ray’s mother was concerned, Ray thought, Alicia Childress didn’t know the half of it.
Alicia pulled her laptop over, donned a pair of reading glasses. “Some of those relatives of yours have racked up some serious debts,” she was saying. “Thurston and Joyce in particular.”
“They always wanted money from me,” he said. “I never made very much but I still sent them what I could. It was probably twenty thousand dollars, all told. But it was never enough.”
“Which is why you made that deal with them back in February,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s why. It got them off my back.”
She’d been studying her laptop as if she could read some hidden map in its screen, but now she looked up at him, shook her head. “Your family is at the top of my list of suspects. A stolen violin plus insurance money equals a big fat life-changing motive.”
Chapter 5
Day 17: Mom
He returned to Charlotte, and Nicole went back to Erie. Within a few days he was already considering a return to New York, as if being there would make it more likely that he’d stumble over the violin on a Midtown street. Late one morning, as he was working through the Bach Chaconne for the third time, his phone rang. Alicia. He snatched it up. “Any news? Did they find her yet?” He laid down his bow on the music stand. The house echoed.
“Not yet.” No one had tracked down the housekeeper. The community wasn’t talking.
“What about the reward?” Ray said. “Did you tell them about the reward?”
“Oh, good idea,” she said. “Wish I’d thought of that sooner. Darn. Missed opportunity.”
“She couldn’t just disappear,” Ray said, pacing around the house. “What about airports? Bus stations? It’s New York.”
“Exactly. It’s New York. She absolutely could.”
He asked if there were any leads about the Bitcoin account （nothing）， the printer （nothing）， or the Chuck Taylor purchases （no news）。
“So Pilar is still the best shot,” he said.
“She is. There is a serious manhunt out for her. Bill Soames promised to alert me immediately when they track her down.”
“I guess you haven’t turned up anything with my family, then?”
“We’re monitoring all their accounts. They’ve all been interviewed multiple times.” Alicia’s voice turned deceptively casual. “I also had a chat with the Marks family.”
Ray sat up. “What did you think? They’re trippin’， right?”
“They’re certainly a piece of work. Denied everything.”
“Well,” Ray said, “if the violin is gone, so much for their lawsuit against me.”
“They definitely don’t seem to have a motive to steal it.”
He parsed her words. “But you don’t trust them, either.”
“I don’t. But we haven’t found any proof yet of their involvement. I’ll keep you posted.”
They hung up soon after, and Ray went back to practicing the Bach. He couldn’t concentrate, though, and finally took a shower and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Midmorning next day, Alicia texted.
Alicia: I’ve found her. Honduras. The housekeeper.
Ray: I’m going down there, send me the address
Alicia: Leave this to the pros, grasshopper. I’m at the airport now.
Ray: Are you sure it’s her
Alicia: Pretty sure. We want to talk to her in person, not risk spooking her again. I’ll report back asap.
* * *
—
Alicia called the next day, just after 11:00 a.m. He’d barely slept, staring at the phone, willing it to ring or text.
“I just left her,” Alicia said. “She says she doesn’t know anything about the violin.”
“Why did she leave, then?”
“She refused to say. Absolutely refused.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ray said. “She must have said something. What made her disappear?”
“There’s clearly something going on,” Alicia said. “But all she would say was that she was homesick. I kept asking her other questions, and that’s all she’d tell me.”
“You speak Spanish?”
“Enough. And I hired a translator that I use when I travel to Central America.”
After they hung up, Ray sat for a moment, thinking. Then he put the violin back in its case, went out to his car, drove the forty minutes back, down familiar streets.