Chapter Seven
Homecoming
Itsmeocean@hotmail.com
"Hey Cal…" Frank hastily hooked the earpiece over his ear when his mobile suddenly buzzed to the tune of Canon In D. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Joe jumped a little in the passenger seat of his Lexus when the cell phone rang. Joe shook his head and mumbled "polyphonic" like it was a dirty word.
"Darling… what's this about Hallie being missing? I called Laura and she was rather beside herself."
"We're looking into it right now. There's a promising lead. How's your presentation?" Frank spoke as calmly as he could for Callie was going into her high-pitched agitated shrilling voice. With everyone around him freaking out, someone had to remain collected or they would all be losing their minds and running amok in useless circles to nowhere.
Callie sighed, "It's ok, won't be counting on a promotion though since I'm not accredited- again. Look, that's not important. I'll be ditching my boss and taking the plane back to Bayport later today. Maybe I can help. You got your car from the airport? How's Joe taking it?"
Frank smiled lightly as an old twinkle shone in his eyes. Callie always wanting to help was a trait of hers that would never change. When he glanced at Joe who was pounding his fist against his jaw in frustration at the slow traffic owing to the congested junctions downtown, his smile dissolved.
He's having an anger problem… a bad one… one which roots that he doesn't care to share with us. And he's worried to death over Hallie… other than that, he's really all right.
"Yes, I got my car back and I'm driving it right now. And Joe… he's as well as he could be, I guess…"
"Is that Callie? Tell her I'm fine and hang up." Joe mumbled dryly. Elle, who had re-applied her lipstick and was now fluffing her hair, probably anticipating some cruder forms of baiting tactics that she might need to employ, shook her head.
"You're anything but," She drawled cynically from behind.
"Shut up, Psycho."
"Times like that I don't even know why I bother to care." Elle coldly snapped back. Frank thought Joe was about to shoot a nasty retort but was pleasantly relieved when Joe simply scowled and slumped back in his seat, glaring at the cars in front like he was trying to combust all of them with some latent pyrokinetic power.
Just when everything settled down, Joe mumbled something rude under his breath. Elle's ears caught it and immediately lashed out. "You should be born without a tongue."
Frank felt the budding throb of a migraine pounding against his forehead. "We'll be all right. By the way, I miss you. Pray for us."
"I'll do more than pray. I said I'm coming back, now. See you in a few hours time. Love ya." Callie kissed him over the phone and disconnected the call. Frank listened to the beeping tone that followed- listened to the lingering ghosts of their conversation which brought him some peace amidst the tension he was feeling.
"Where's this Chijmes Galleries?" Joe growled. "Why are new buildings sprouting up when we don't need them?"
"You've been gone for seven years, Joe. Things evolved and develop… like the expanding downtown area."
"Yah. Choose this appropriate time to rub it in, Frank." Joe crossed his arms angrily. "Why's everyone on my case?"
"You're the one jumping on everyone." Frank sternly reproached him. "Cool it! The ritzy building right in front is Chjimes- a novelty mall targeted at the higher-income group."
Joe snorted, Elle rolled her eyes and Frank prayed for sanity. Finally, the traffic eased up and Frank maneuvered the Lexus into the basement parking lot of the posh shopping mall that, though only three stories high, was indeed a much more extravagant affair than Bayport Mall. The moment they entered, designer brands subtly beckoned them. Just the labels alone were enough to infuse the stores with the atmosphere of decadence.
Lawry occupied a corner shop on the second floor. The scent of leather wafted into Frank's nose when they neared the shop and his spirits soared a little because everything in this mall smelled new, expensive and clean. Strips of leather samples and exquisitely crafted shoes lined the storefront tastefully.
There was only a husky orange-haired man with a gold nose stud and dressed in a simple but chic suit in the main area of the store. A Chinese screen divided the main area from the private space behind, most probably utilized to take measurements of customers' feet.
He was speaking animatedly into the phone, probably not expecting customers to stroll in so early on a Tuesday afternoon. That would also explain why they could not get through when they tried calling the shop earlier on. Joe had excused himself to visit the Gents, leaving Frank alone with Elle for a moment. Frank was already having the most ominous feeling that any minute with Elle was a minute too long.
How did my brother with no patience for anyone's nonsense endure her antics?
He held the door open for Elle who stood a step before the entrance. She showed no appreciation for his act of chivalry which was a second nature to him and instead, smiled extremely forcefully.
"I'm actually capable of opening my own doors."
"Fine." Frank shrugged, stepped in and released his hand from the door's handle, letting it swing in her face. Elle was quick to support the sealing door with her elbow.
"What's your problem? You're really rude."
Frank decided then that the girl was impossible to reason with. Turning around slowly; his usual friendly countenance was severely challenged. "You are capable of opening your own doors so I think you're definitely more than qualified to keep the doors open."
Elle scowled at him, striding past him with the graceful gait of a sultry, peeved cat up to the counter. She flicked her hair behind her back and leaned against the counter top to gain the shop assistant's attention. Frank reached her side in a second and saw, to his amusement, how quick her expression of hostility changed to that of extreme amiability, though not directed at him of course. Her charming smile, showing her perfect, white teeth, all but dissolved her shark-like personality.
"Hello, I was wondering if you have the time…"
"Shh… hold on." The man spoke dryly into the phone and looked up with a harassed expression, covering the mouthpiece at the same time. "Yes? Do you have an appointment with any of our shoemakers?"
"No, I just want to…" Elle could barely begin when the man's lips curled up in a twisted smile, raising his hand to halt her.
"Then please wait. They're all terribly busy and so am I." The man curtly replied, waving the two of them haughtily away before returning to his animated conversation. Frank hunched over to try figure out what important call the man was on.
"Yes… those dancers at Venom in Seventh Street… oh… gorgeous aren't they? Especially the blond in the centre all the time… hmm…"
A slow smile crept up Frank's lips but before he could inform Elle about his plans, having in his mind a quick mental profile of the man they were tackling, Elle announced her intentions in a serious tone.
"Please, we just need to ask you some questions. A girl has disappeared…"
The orange head bobbed up again with light brown eyes hooded menacingly. "That's hardly my problem. I don't have any female friends who disappeared."
Elle fumed. The man was now gossiping into the phone, most likely badmouthing about two eccentrics who had just stepped into the shop to his friend. Frank nudged Elle who was losing her patience as she drummed her fingers on the counter top.
"Yes?" Elle whispered back, irritation lacing her monosyllabic response that spoke volumes about her animosity towards a newly found, carrot-top nemesis. Frank guided her gently by the shoulders towards the entrance of the shop and she roughly shook away his touch. "Please, this is sexual harassment."
He rolled his eyes. So much for trying to be easy-going to counter her jagged personality. "We'll let Joe handle this."
"Why?" She countered back harshly, obviously taking it personally as an insult to her socializing skills.
"The man's not going to entertain us. He likes blonds and we're not. Venom in Seventh Street is like the Blue Oyster Club headquarters in Bayport… get what I mean? He might be more receptive to Joe than us." Frank drawled from the corner of his lips and as realization dawned on Elle, her cunning eyes glowed mischievously. For a moment, Frank thought she was really attractive- a young girl who actually knew how to have fun.
"Ah… I see…"
"Joe shouldn't be taking much too long." Frank glanced at his watch. "It's better than wasting our breath with…" He cocked his head at the shop assistant whose conversation was clutching in into a higher gear.
Elle nodded and smiled almost affably at him but the friendliness was quickly replaced by a sudden guardedness. She walked away from him out of shop and he followed her, a little confused now about her character but the bafflement was replaced with relief when he noticed Joe jogging hurriedly towards the shop to join them.
***
The orange-haired man did a double take when Joe strolled up to the counter. Though outwardly calm, he was seething inside and ready to punch the guy for being uncooperative. When Frank told him that the guy refused to put down the phone and answer their queries, Joe had innocently asked Frank if he should threaten to punch the guy's jaws to get him to speak.
"No! Joe… subtle means." Frank warned him. Joe smiled wryly.
"Of course. I was only kidding… well, half-kidding."
Whispering a hushed farewell into the phone, the shop assistant beamed at Joe who was a little too affected and beleaguered to reciprocate the same level of affability though he wondered why Frank could call such prompt response 'downright retarded'. A stretched of his lips was all he could manage, though, he did lower his eyelids to soften the hard look in his blue orbs- the latter would definitely not endear people to open up to him with information.
"Hello, sir. How may I assist you?" The man's booming voice filled up the detached silence of the up-market shoe shop as he stood up and grabbed both of Joe's hands in an over-vigorous handshake. Joe was more than a little taken aback by the effusive shop assistant and actually froze for a moment.
Strange. Frank said he was real unfriendly and hostile.
"Hmm… oh… yes. I have this question. If I want to make a pair of shoes for a good friend of mine but I want it to be a surprise gift, can I just give you the name of my friend who had custom-made a pair of shoes here before and you can check for his measurements in… well… your database or something?" And vice versa? Measurements that can lead me to his name? Joe gazed intently with sincerity at the man, hoping to convince him of his feigned intentions. The man narrowed his eyes as if he was in deep thoughts before shaking his head.
"I'm sorry but we don't have such a database. Lawry's a company that brings together the finest of all shoemakers under one roof and it's with the individual craft master that your friend's measurements may be with… if the person making his shoes does keep records. If you know his regular shoemaker, maybe I can help. By the way, I'm Hugh. Have I met you before? Maybe down at Venom in Seventh Street or its affiliated pubs and discos in other areas? You do look familiar."
Joe arched his brows, peering at the man before shaking his head apologetically. "I'm sorry. I haven't been in town for a while so the street and place you're talking about is lost to me…" He noticed the shop assistant looking a tad too dejected but decided that it was none of his concern. "So, Hugh, how do I find out who's his shoemaker? Do they have any… say… signatures or something on every pair of shoes that they make to identify it's their work?"
"Yup, they do. In fact, you can just turn your friend's shoes over and take a look at the sole. Normally, the shoemakers carved their initials next to the logo. So… is your friend a normal friend or a… well… special friend?" Hugh raised a suggestive brow at Joe but his hinting was lost to the handsome young man though Joe was feeling a little more than awkward receiving such attention from another male. Now, he was contemplating about what Frank said regarding the man's eccentricity about speaking only to blonds.
"Hmm… a friend. Well, that's what I thought… the initials I mean. Does the initials LTD mean anything to you?"
"LTD?" Hugh curled his lower lip inwards before he snapped his fingers suddenly, scaring Joe again with his abruptness. "Of course! Lester T. Demoir! He's one of our most popular shoemaker and pays extreme attention to fine details. I'm sure he will have a record of your friend's measurements somewhere but lemme check if he's available… he's not really base here or in other outlets…" Hugh patted Joe's right hand which was resting on the polished, black marble counter top, eliciting a glare from Joe directed at the affected appendage. However, Joe had enough sense to not want to offend the shop assistant when the information he desired was so close to being revealed and, thus, only shoved his hands causally into his baggy jeans' pockets when Hugh was typing furiously away on his console.
"Lester Demoir… oh dear… I'm so sorry…" Hugh's eyes hooded over in sympathy. "He's quite a weird fellow… well, it's stated here that he won't be available for the next few months because he's overseas… somewhere…"
A little anxious now that the door to their most promising lead would be slammed shut in his face, Joe hunched over the counter and tried to look into the monitor. "Do you know where he's gone too or how may I contact him… anything?"
"Well, I have his name card which I can give you but when the man's on a vacation, he's on a vacation. He's famous for disappearing without any notice. Are you sure you have never been to Venom? Interested in going there, maybe?"
"His name card? Is his mobile no. on it? Email address? Home address? Whatever?" Joe straightened up as his barrage of questions seemed to carry a force along with them that caused Hugh to be a little helplessly taken aback.
"Whoa… slow down, tiger. All right… here's his name card…" Hugh reached into a drawer and drew out a piece of white, wallet-sized paper with gold and silver trimmings. "Though I think your efforts to contact him may be wasted. And here's mine…" He took another similar card but without the elaborated motif along the edges from the cardholder on the counter top and passed both the cards to Joe. "Just in case you need to call back and check for further information of course."
"Wait… is this his address? He works from home?" Joe studied the name card he was interested in. Beverly Hills. Lawry's flagship store was in the famous city but the address stated on the card was not the same as the store's- for one, it pointed to a condominium rather the shoe boutique along Rodeo Drive.
"Yes… he does. He makes personal visits too…" Hugh nodded. "Good luck and if you can't find him, I can always recommend another shoe designer to you…"
Joe stuffed the name cards into his breast pocket and smiled genuinely at Hugh for the first time. For all the man's overly demonstrative cordialness, he was actually being more helpful than he would ever know.
"Thank you very much." Joe wanted to stretch his right hand out for a handshake but thought better than to risk getting his bones crushed in the man's enthusiasm.
"No worries! If you do frequent Venom, I'm usually with my friends at the second boo…" Hugh called out to Joe who had already spun around on his heels and marched out of the store to join Elle and Frank. They would need to check out the information and find out where Lester Demoir was. Joe was very sure the shoemaker could lead them to the bastard who kidnapped Hallie.
And the abductor would regret tremendously at ever crossing paths with him and his loved ones.
