CHAPTER 12

I had finished all my packing and headed back to Petrie's house. It was several hours later and I was no closer to finding him. I'd talked to every neighbor I could find and had no clues except that every weekend he seemed to disappear, but no one knew where he went to. Everyone agreed that he kept to himself and wasn't very sociable, and a couple of them said he gave off a creepy vibe. I'd never met the man in person, but I had to agree.

I learned that he drove an old '74 Oldsmobile Cutlass that was painted a dark metallic eggplant color and needed a lot of work. One of the elderly neighbors went on a ten minute rant about how loud that huge car engine and exhaust was, and how it the woke him up from his afternoon nap every Friday when he pealed out of the driveway. I figured a 455 cc engine would have to be pretty loud, having experience from the huge gas guzzling V-8 engine in the Buick. He declared the thing to be such a disturbance of the peace that he had half a mind to go shoot that damn squealing piece of junk and put it out of it's misery. He said that this week was the first time that the car hadn't woken him up, because he heard it leave late Thursday night instead. So I knew where he wasn't, but with only about eight hours to find him before my date with Joe I needed some sort of lead. I picked up my cell phone and dialed.

"Yo."

"Hey, I hate to ask for help after all you and the guys have done for me this week..."

"But?"

"But I have one day left to catch this Petrie slime ball, and it appears he has some other property nearby that he heads for every weekend. Do you have anyway of searching to find out where he might go?"

"I'm still out of town working, but I can have Hal search the database to see if he rents or owns any property, but that might take a while."

"Anything you can get me is good. I'm running out of leads and time here."

"No problem. What do you have?"

I gave him the guy's full name and date of birth and any other details that might help, and said he would relay the information and call me back if they found anything. I pulled out a map and set a five mile perimeter around Petrie's house, and spent the next hour and a half driving systematically through the area looking for a classic, dark purple, beat up Olds Cutlass. The only thing it got me was another trip to the gas station to fill up the Buick. It was just after noon, so I decided to grab some lunch and see if I could think of anything else. As I munched on my fries and chased it down with diet cola, my mind went back to that shelf full of dolls in Petrie's kitchen. It was a considerable collection, and he had to get them from somewhere. I remembered passing a large antique store about two miles away from where he lived, and decided to go there next.

As I walked into Nanny Granny's Antiques I sneezed several times from the decades of dust hidden amongst the merchandise that was absolutely overflowing from every available shelf and surface. Everywhere I looked there was something interesting that caught my eye, and I felt like I had stepped through time. I wandered around and found myself wondering about the history of certain pieces, curious about who had owned them before they wound up here. A woman in her 60's walked up to me as I approached the counter. She looked like she had put her makeup on in the dark during an earthquake, but she had a friendly face and smile. Her lipstick was bubble gum pink, she had a giant teased bushel of curly grey hair that was obviously bleached blonde to within an inch of it's life, and there was a Marlboro Slim cigarette perched between her lips that looked to be a permanent feature. She wore a "World's Greatest Grandma" tight T-shirt that was embellished with rhinestones, huge gold hoop earrings, and cut off jean shorts that I wished were cut off about a foot further down. She looked a chain smoking, flat chested version of Dolly Parton on a bad day. A real bad day.

"Can I help you honey?" she said in a 2 1/2 pack a day voice.

"I'm here to find out if you've seen this man." I explained, holding up his picture.

"Yup, that'd be Marvin. He comes in here at least once a month for the almost a year now. Nice man. Quiet, but he sure loves his daughter."

"Daughter?"

"Yeah, he buys her a new doll every month. He buys almost every one I get in, but he also has other stores ship 'em to me. You see, I do a little restoration on the side. The porcelain is usually alright, just some crack repair and touch up paint usually. But the clothes need some more advanced work. People always leave them where the sunlight hits it coming through the window, and before you know it the outfits are all faded and the lace comes undone. Moth holes are harder to do too, but he pays me to fix all of it. Antique clothing restoration is my specialty." she beamed with pride.

"What did he tell you about his daughter?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat. I knew from his file that he had no children.

"Said he doesn't get to see her often, but visits her every chance he gets on the weekends. Marvin said she ought to be coming to live with him soon, so he's finishing getting her room ready. He was here Thursday morning in fact. Had three dolls he had a rush order on to have them ready in time. Seemed real excited." She looked at me quizzically.

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I forced myself to relax. I was over reacting. My guy didn't fit the suspect description and Allentown was a long drive from here. Abductors usually knew the child in some way and lived close by. Still, I had a nagging feeling that wouldn't go away. "Did he tell you anything about where he was moving his...umm...daughter to?"

"Well, I know he lives nearby. But he has a place on a couple of acres on the far edge of town, said that is where he keeps his collection. I reckon he's gonna move out there since that's where he keeps all the dolls." she said.

"Do you know where this place is?" I asked.

"No honey. You look a little nervous...what are you looking for Marvin for? He in trouble or something?" she asked with a puzzled look.

Since she thought he was a nice guy devoted to his daughter, I decided to play along with it so I wouldn't arouse any suspicion and lose her cooperation. "No, I'm just a private investigator hired by the attorney of an estranged relative. Seems he's come into an inheritance, but I need to speak with him and verify his identity and residence so that we can make the arrangements." Good one Stephanie! The estranged relative with the fat inheritance check bit works every time.

"Oh, well then! I wish there was more I could do to help you then. That's about everything that I know, he always picks up the dolls in person and the only address I have for him is the one just up the street." she offered kindly.

"Okay, well let me write down my name and number if you think of anything else." I went up to the counter and grabbed one of the pens and wrote my cell phone number down on the back of a fast food receipt I found floating in my purse, since handing her one of my 'Vincent Plum Bond Enforcement' business cards would blow my cover.

"Honey, would you mind doing me a favor right quick?" she asked me with a grandmotherly smile.

"Sure, what can I help you with." I asked, figuring she needed help getting something off of a high shelf.

"Well, you see, I don't get many pretty young ladies with your nice figure in here. I've got this beautiful antique dress from the 50's that I just finished restoring, and it's been here a month and isn't selling. It's a beautiful piece, but doesn't look like much on the rack. I really would love to see it on someone, and if I could get a picture of you in it maybe I could sell it on Ebay or something. Would you mind?" she asked.

Her request surprised me, but I was glad to oblige. This was probably the one chance in my lifetime that I would be offered a modeling job. I walked to the back of the store with her, and followed her into a side room. I gasped when I saw the overflowing racks of clothes from every generation imaginable. One of the tags on a petticoat showed it was from 1910, and there was a collection of hot pants and psychedelic dresses from the 70's on the far wall.

"Wow." I said, stunned.

"You ain't seen nothing yet honey. Here she is!" she declared, holding out a white satin dress towards me. I stopped breathing. It looked exactly like that dress Marilyn Monroe wore in the famous picture where she stood over the sewer grating in the street, and the steam was blowing her dress up while she tried to hold it down. The fabric was so delicate, and had a permanent pleating pressed into it. There was a large antique diamond brooch in the center at the bottom of the deep V that was the attention grabbing neckline. It was a total fantasy dress.

I tried it on without hesitation, and my heart almost stopped when I saw myself in the full length mirror. I didn't even notice that my bra was sticking out an inch above the bottom of the V neck. The pleating made it extremely flattering, the wide band in the middle made my waist look itty bitty, and it fit me perfectly. I turned and the skirt flared out and twisted and around my legs gracefully, thanks to the gauzy underskirt beneath the satin. Not since my majorette uniform in high school had I felt so much like twirling around in circles. I had to have it.

"Don't worry about Ebay. I'll take it." I declared, smoothing my hands over my hips.

"This dress was made for you dearie. I'll even give you a discount." she said with a smile. Something told me she had never planned to put the dress on Ebay. She probably didn't even know how to turn a computer on.

After buying the dress I drove around the outskirts of Trenton, looking for a dilapidated 74 eggplant Cutlass. Not surprisingly, I didn't find anything. I also dropped by several other antique stores, but no one remembered him when I flashed his picture. I finally gave up and headed back to my apartment, since there were no more leads to follow up on until Ranger called me back. I had only two and a half hours until my date with Joe at six pm, and time was running out. With nothing else to do, I hopped in the shower and started getting ready.

Thanks to Alexander's miracle cream an hour later my hair was a vision of elegant curls cascading down my shoulders in shiny ringlets, with a few shorter ones framing my face. I had let my hair grow out for a while now, so it was down to my mid-back. I did a second round of fake tanner, and used up a free sample of Opium perfume that I had picked up at Macy's. It took me thirty minutes just to pick out the underwear, because the selection all depended on whether I expected Joe to be pulling them off of me with his teeth tonight. A Morelli induced orgasm had been long overdue, or any orgasm for that matter. I really did need to get laid. I was too pent up, and surely it was bad for my health. But if I slept with Joe tonight after our much anticipated conversation, what would I be committing myself to? Damn. Why couldn't I just use men for casual sex? It would be a lot less complicated. But no, I had to actually have all those dopey morals and stupid thoughts of love and intimacy and commitment. I figured that I would let fate decide. If Ranger didn't find anything the night would be free. If I did get a lead I could leave and make some excuse about the early flight in the morning, and take off to find my skip before he had a chance to give his 'daughter' those last dolls.

That decision being sort of made, I settled on a pair of delicate white undies that were made out of wide bands of a detailed lace. I selected a matching front hook white lace bra that had low cups that left most of my breasts poking out of the top, and the middle of the bra wouldn't be visible in the low V neck of the dress. It wasn't until I picked the bra out that I realized I had unconsciously decided to wear the antique white satin dress tonight. I squirmed uncomfortably while staring into my underwear drawer, wondering what the hell I was doing dressing up and wearing a white dress to meet Joe for a "talk about our future." What if he actually did propose for real this time? What would I say?

I stood there mulling it over and thinking back to my conversation with Bobby for quite a while, but the answer didn't come. I guessed I would just deal with it if it happened. I handled most things in my life by flying by the seat of my pants, so why should this be any different? I should at least hear him out and see what he had to say. We had been together a long time and I owed that to him. I sighed and slipped into my underwear, and was shocked to see that the clock read almost 5:30pm. Joe would be here in a half hour. It hit me that if Ranger called me back with an address I would need my car so that I would be able to leave quickly and have more time to hunt for Petrie.

"Hey there Cupcake." Joe answered on the first ring.

"Hey Joe. Listen, I've run into a small snag. Would you mind if I met you at the restaurant?" I asked him, hoping he didn't want to know why.

"I guess we could do that. Why?" he asked, of course. He was a cop after all.

"I have a last minute errand I need to run. I think I accidentally left my airline tickets at Val's house, and if I don't take care of it now I'll be distracted all night." I lied. I was so good at coming up with lies off of the top of my head that I scared myself, and felt a little guilty doing it.

"I can drop by and pick them up on the way over for you." he offered.

"No that's okay." I blurted out, my voice sounding unnaturally high.. "I may have left it crammed into a side pocket on one of two diaper bags, and it'll be easier to find it if I search myself." I lied again. This was an evil talent I had.

"Diaper bags huh? Okay Cupcake, whatever you say. Meet me at Avatar as soon as you're done."

"Avatar?" I repeated, shocked.

"Nothing but the best for my lady. See you soon."

"Be there as soon as I can Joe. Bye." Avatar was downtown, and was the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in Trenton. It was attached to the only four star hotel in the area. So I had heard. I had never been there or thought I would get the chance to. This was a place where you made reservations a week in advance. My hands were shaky.

I couldn't paint my nails with my hands trembling, but the manicure and pedicure I'd done a few days earlier with a pale pink polish was holding up nicely. I tossed a couple of grapes and hamster nuggets in Rex's cage, and went into the bathroom to do my makeup. The self tanner had set evenly on my face, so I didn't need any concealer or base. Instead I put a shiny bronzer on, and the effect was stunning. I looked like I had just finished sunbathing on Rio de Janeiro, and my cheekbones stood out much more than usual. I used a kohl pencil on my upper and lower lids, and smudged it well to make my eyes look dramatic. I put a smoky grey shadow on my outer eyelid, a deep purple accent above the lid on the outer edge, and frosty beige on my inner eyelid and right underneath my brows. After blending it with a sponge and swiping on some mascara, my eyes looked fantastic. After a bit of blush and a light pink glossy lipstick I declared my makeup done. The pale lipstick made my tan look even better. I looked myself over in the mirror, and I looked about as good as I had ever seen myself.

I went into the bedroom and put on the white dress, which slid onto me like it was custom made. I was afraid to go look into the mirror again, because if I looked as good as I thought I did I might chicken out and wear overalls to dinner. I opened up my jewelry drawer and it wasn't hard to decide what to wear. After all, this was a Marilyn dress. Diamonds were a girl's best friend and I needed to match the costume jewelry brooch that was on the dress. The only diamonds I owned was a set of earrings that were willed to me by my late grandmother on my father's side, and a small diamond pendant I had bought myself at Macy's after I got my first job at E.E. Martin. The earrings were several square cut diamonds strung together in a straight line that dangled off of my earlobes. The necklace was a round cut mystic fire topaz that reflected a myriad of colors in the mostly clear stone, and it was surrounded by a ring of square cut diamonds on a delicate silver chain. I finished it off with a fake diamond tennis bracelet in a silver setting that matched the other pieces and cost about $20 at an after Christmas sale. I seriously doubted anyone at the restaurant would be walking around with a magnifying eyeglass checking the authenticity of my jewelry. I spied the rings in the corner of the drawer, and slammed it shut. Not ready to think about that yet.

I tossed the pink lipstick and my pocketbook into a small silver metallic purse, along with my cell phone. I slipped on some silver strappy three inch sandals, then I took a small duffel bag and threw in some tennis shoes and socks, some black jeans, a black T shirt, a taser, pepper spray, a set of handcuffs, a Maglite, and Petrie's file. I went to the cookie jar and opened it, but shut it just as quickly. Not ready to think about that either. I grabbed both bags and went downstairs, tossing the duffel in the trunk and my purse in the passenger seat. As I climbed in I realized that the dress and the Buick were made at the same time, and this would probably be the only night of my life that the powder blue behemoth was actually stylishly appropriate.

I pulled up to the front of Avatar, which was apparently complimentary valet parking only. A uniformed man took my keys and handed me a ticket, and whistled appreciatively at the car. What was it with men and that car? I turned to enter the restaurant, and saw that there was actually a red carpet leading up to the gold gilded doors. Yikes. I wondered if they would let a gal like me into a classy place like this? I guess so, since another uniformed man opened the door for me and welcomed me. I walked into the entry and was struck by a very large tropical flower arrangement on a carved mahogany claw footed pedestal in the center of the marbled lobby, dwarfed by the giant crystal chandelier that hung a few feet above it. I clutched my purse tightly and walked to the hostess stand, getting more anxious by the second. I was greeted by a slender woman in her thirties with perfectly coiffed blonde hair in an upswept French twist, and wearing an expensive looking black suit and white silk blouse. The nametag said Tiffany, and I bit my tongue hard to suppress a nervous giggle.

"You must be Miss Plum. Follow me, Mr. Morelli has taken the liberty of ordering drinks and an appetizer for you. Right this way." she said with a polite smile.

It was all I could do to walk in a straight line after her. The place was immaculate, with white tablecloths everywhere, fresh flowers at every table, and fine china glinting at every setting. Everyone there was well dressed and rich looking, and I bet they could probably fit my entire apartment in their closets. The hostess stopped in front of a table for two, but I didn't see Joe. I looked around, but then realized the man standing in front of me was Joe. He looked incredible. He was wearing a black silk Italian pin striped suit with a pewter shirt, and the athletic cut showed off his delicious body perfectly. His tie had thin grey and black diagonal stripes held in place by a diamond tie tack, and he looked like he could have owned the place. His black hair was cut short, like he just had a haircut, and he was so clean shaven that I couldn't see any shadows of his usual stubble. He had always been a handsome man, but right now he looked like he'd stepped off of the cover of a magazine. It was all I could do not to throw him down on the pristine white tablecloth and have my wicked way with him in the middle of this four star restaurant. I bet they frowned upon that though.

Joe reached out his hand and I followed his cue and put my hand in his. He raised it up to his lips and kissed it, and I wasn't sure what swooning was but that was probably what I did. The waitress told us that we made a lovely couple, and said our waiter would be with us shortly to let us know the chef's specials for the evening. I nodded silently, my throat suddenly dry as a bone. Joe took my hand and pulled me close to him, his other hand reaching around my waist. He leaned in close to my ear, and the intoxicating scent of his aftershave had my knees growing weak.

"Stephanie, you look absolutely beautiful tonight. You're stunning, and I am the luckiest man in Trenton." he whispered huskily in my ear.

"I think I'm going to need to sit down." I croaked back. "You're not so bad yourself sailor, but you keep laying all your best moves on me and I just might faint."

"Well then Cupcake, allow me." he said with a flourish as he pulled out my chair for me.

I plopped down in the chair and scooted up to the table, then set my purse on the floor after picking my jaw up off of it.

Joe sat down across from me and gave me a sexy smile. Before I could say anything, a waiter showed up with our drinks. His name tag said 'Gustav, Avatar Sommelier,' which I guess made him a wine expert since he rattled off information and characteristics of the bottle of white wine he was opening. He could have been speaking in another language for all I understood. He actually had Joe smell the cap and taste it first to make sure it was acceptable, before pouring me an entire glass, then filling the rest of Joe's. I tasted it, and it was exquisite. I was no wine expert, but this had layers and layers of flavor that filled my senses with just the slightest sip and made me want to linger over every drop. Gustav left the opened bottle in a golden ice filled bucket on a stand near Joe before he left, advising us to let it breath for about fifteen minutes to achieve the fullest flavor. I was thinking I might need to stop and breathe for fifteen minutes before this evening continued.

My eyes met Joe's, but before I could say anything our waiter arrived and set a plate down in front of me. It had five tiny golden brown objects that were shaped to look like drawstring bags with a slender shoot of green onion tying them off at the top. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Joe.

"This would be the 'Beggar's Purse' Miss Plum. It is an Avatar favorite. The baked purses are filled with a blend of diced scallops, oysters, and lobster in a tarragon cream sauce. Mr. Morelli said that you enjoyed seafood on special occasions, so I hope you find them to your liking." our waiter said, and then he actually bowed.

"I'm sure I will find them delightful." Did I just say that? I must have been possessed by the spirit of some rich, snooty, European socialite sometime after I sat down. I pictured my head spinning around and projectile vomiting tarragon cream sauce.

Our waiter, whose name was actually Marcel, took my napkin and placed it in my lap for me. He also laid a second menu to the side of the table "For your perusal at your convenience madam," and then rattled off three specials that each sounded better than the last. They say the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, but Joe knew better when it came to me. The man was playing dirty, and so far he was winning.

I slid one of the purses onto my fork and placed it onto my tongue. I bit down, and the flavor exploded in my mouth, and I couldn't suppress a moan as I savored every last morsel. I looked up and Joe's eyes were locked onto mine, and they were turning very, very dark.

"You'd better not tempt me Cupcake, or I might lose all decorum and drag you into the lobby and have you on the plush leather couch. I am a gentleman after all, so I can't take you on the floor." he said with a wolf grin.

"You sir, are no gentleman. The nice suit and clean shaven look doesn't fool me a bit. You've had me on the floor before if I recall." I said, crossing my arms and hiking up my eyebrows up at him while my mind flashed back to the Tasty Pastry.

"Indeed." he replied with a wink and a devilish smile.

"So I enjoy seafood only on special occasions, huh? What makes this occasion special?" I asked, shaking my head at him.

"Any time I spend with you is special Cupcake."

"Okay, that was really lame." I said with an eye roll.

He laughed. "Well I couldn't keep it up forever. Gustav made me nervous, and I wasn't sure what he wanted me to smell the damn cap for." he chuckled.

That had me tossing my head back and laughing out loud, and I relaxed considerably. I took another sip of the wine and smiled at Joe.

"I love it when you laugh. There is only one other time where you are even more beautiful." he said intensely, his chocolate brown eyes burning a hole into me.

"And when exactly is that?" I squeaked out, afraid of his answer.

He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. "When you come with me inside you, gasping and moaning while my arms wrap around you, with your soft heaving breasts pressed up tightly against me." he answered in a deep voice.

I dropped the wineglass and it shattered on the floor.