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Elizabeth’s blood froze. “What color was the SUV?”
“A dark gray, almost black. Actually, I barely noticed. I was trying to see the driver.” He shrugged. “It seemed significant at the time, but maybe she was just drunk or something. I was mad enough to chase her, but by the time I got turned around, she was gone.”
“Do you know what make it was?”
“Ford Escape. That’s why I thought it was you. Vivian said you have an Escape.”
Elizabeth gathered up her purse and work from her desk, trying not to make too much of what he’d said. Was it a reach to think he was playing with her somehow? Making it up?
He said he loved you, but I think he did some bad things.
“Who is he, Chloe?” she asked aloud again, heading out the door and glad that for once, Pat was away from her desk and unable to see when she left.
“It’s public record,” Rex told Ravinia once she was back in his car. “Easy to find if you know what you’re looking for. R. Lendel Gaines is still the owner on record at the Del Toro address.”
“Let’s just get there.”
“Sure thing.” He was half-amused by her lack of tact when it came to him, especially since she seemed to be quite the little actress when she was trying to weasel information out of people.
By the time they reached the town house on Del Toro, it was midafternoon, shafts of sunlight attempting to pierce through the low-hanging clouds. They walked to the front door where a welcome mat in the shape of a cat covered the single step. Rex rang the bell. When no one answered, he rang it again. They heard nothing for a while, then finally the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. A second later the door was pulled open by a tall man who was in his late fifties or early sixties. A horseshoe of hair crowned his head, a few strands of red holding firm within the mostly gray mix. The bald part of his pate was as freckled as his suspicious face. Dark eyes peered at them over a hawkish nose. “Yes?”
“Ralph Lendel Gaines?” Rex asked.
“Who’s asking?” the man wanted to know.
Rex introduced himself and Ravinia, then handed the man his card. “We’re looking for Elizabeth Gaines.”
The man scowled as he stared at the card. “What’s she done now?”
Now? Rex ignored that and asked, “She is your daughter, right?”
“Can’t see that it’s any business of yours, but I have a daughter by that name.”
“You and your ex-wife adopted her?”
“Who are you? What the hell is this?”
Sensing that he might get the door slammed in their faces, Rex said quickly, “Ravinia’s traveled from Oregon and she believes your daughter is her biological half sister.” That was a lie of course, but they had agreed that cousin wasn’t a close enough relative for an adoptive father to care about.
Gaines glared at Ravinia as if she’d lost her mind. “Elizabeth never had a half sister.” But there was a hesitation in his voice as he stared hard at Ravinia.
Rex wondered if he was seeing something in her, some form of recognition. “We’d like to come in and talk to you about her.”
“People say I look like her,” Ravinia piped up.
Gaines rubbed his chin, seemed about to say something, then to Rex’s surprise, the man suddenly stepped to one side of the hallway and continued to hold the door open. Before they could make a move, however, he glanced again at the card Rex had shown him and asked, “You got ID?”
Rex slid his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open.
The man leaned forward and stared hard at Rex’s picture. After a few moments, he gave a short, sharp nod and said, “You can’t be too careful, y’know. Come on in. But call me Lendel, would ya? I never much liked Ralph as a name.”
Rex had never much liked Joel, either, but he saved that bit of information, not wanting to explain too much. The more questions they could ask and elicit information the better, but they didn’t need Gaines asking too much in return.
A few minutes later, they were situated in the living room, each occupying one of the side chairs flanking a long, leather couch positioned in front of the window. An underlying odor wafting through the rooms suggested the existence of coffee, bacon grease, and a cat or two. Actually, there were three felines that Rex noticed, two tabbies taking up residence and sunning themselves on a blanket thrown over the back of the couch and a shier black creature peering through the rails of the staircase leading to the second floor.
Who knew how many more could be hiding in the nooks and crannies of R. Lendel Gaines’s home?
“I don’t know what I can tell you,” Gaines admitted, taking a spot on the couch where the cushions seemed permanently indent
