After talking to Burt, I just wanted to leave. I felt so foolish, as half of what I found out, the police would already know. I needed to go home and meet with Detective Reynolds, who had probably found out about our adventure and wasn’t thrilled with it. What had I been thinking, that I was going to ride up to Rochester and rescue Greg from invisible kidnappers? That I would find him when the police couldn’t and magically bring him home?
I asked Drew to drive, and I resumed my window watching. I actually felt sorry for him; this was some sad excuse for a road trip.
When I said as much, he laughed. “Oh well. I got something I needed out of this trip, too. You think I did this all for you? Pfffffttttt…” He waved his hand.
“What are you talking about?”
“I got to disappear for a few days,” he said. “Pardon the expression. My disappearance is temporary, of course.”
Ah… nothing is sacred. “From who?”
“Clients.” He shrugged. “I have my agent and potential clients cold-calling me to find out when I’m releasing more prints. You know what I called the last one? Irony.”
I laughed. A real laugh and it felt good. “Why Irony?”
“Because it contains nine photographs I took of complete poverty, not in Ethiopia or some third world country, but in New York City. It’s disgusting, and the guy who eventually bought it paid three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. He hangs the whole collection in his foyer, which I swear would hold your house. So there you go. That’s irony, right?”
I was awed by the figure, but tried not to let it show. “If you’re so disgusted by it, why do you do it?”
“Because what else am I going to do? I love photography, and I love making money on it. I hate that people will pay that amount of money for photographs of poverty, though. It seems criminal. I mean, that guy should have just donated three grand to charity. But he told his rich friends, and now, everyone wants pictures of poor people. It’s so twisted.”
“The world is twisted,” I agreed.
“You know the worst part? I gave more than half of that away. I gave it to the people whose pictures I had taken. I condemn the rich for paying that much for art, but then I give only half of it away? I should just give it all away, but I don’t.” He shook his head.
I gaped at him. “You gave that much away? That’s amazing. Nobody else would do that. Why would you put yourself down for that?”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. The point is, I came here for you and your crisis in part, but really, I came for me. So thank you.”
My heart swelled with love. It didn’t matter if his story was true or not. I knew he had told me to help me feel as if I wasn’t using him, though we both knew I was. I also knew he told me some of it to distract me from my own plight for the first time in about two weeks. That alone was worth the trip.
Five hours later, when we pulled into my driveway, Detective Matt Reynolds stood on the porch waiting for me.
Chapter 10
“No, you’re right. I’m not happy with it.” Detective Reynolds sat in my living room, in Greg’s easy chair. Drew and I sat on the couch, chastened children in my own home. “Here’s why. We don’t know Greg at all. For all we know, he was involved in something criminal and is now at the bottom of the Delaware River. Or more likely, the Genessee River.”
I must have made a face because the detective gave me a stern look. “Mrs. Barnes, excuse me if I don’t mince words, but you openly admitted you didn’t know your husband well at the time of his disappearance. So you go to Rochester and start asking questions. What if someone finds out and decides you should take a swim with your husband? It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Let us do our job. I repeat. Let. Us. Do. Our. Job.”
“I understand,” I said. “But you have to understand. Wouldn’t you be drawn to the last place your wife was seen alive? I don’t know if Greg is dead in a ditch somewhere or hiding out in the Dominican Republic with his mistress. I have no idea. Although I did find something that you didn’t, so it wasn’t a wasted trip.”
“Okay, we’ll retrace your steps. But please don’t do that again. I promise we’ll do all we can to find your husband. Now, please, let’s run through what you did, who you talked to, and what you found out.”
Drew and I recounted the events of the last two days.
When I told Detective Reynolds about confirming with Burt Rainer that there was no scheduled training class for that week, he nodded. “We knew that, but we didn’t check with Toronto. So, that was good thinking.” He wrote something down in his notebook.