Chapter Nine
“I’m not even going to ask what’s behind that dopey-ass grin on your face,” Loch said as Tate strolled in the door of his office. “Let’s see, you’ve got circles under your eyes, your shirt is buttoned up wrong, and everyone in town knows you and the bobcat spent the night at Henry’s house. Did you get any sleep at all?”
“She’s incredible.” Tate’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and rebuttoned it properly. He was filled with a warm glow. “Weddings are great, aren’t they? Maybe I should have one.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?” Loch asked.
“Ha. The world is a beautiful place. Why aren’t you smiling?”
“More developments in the tiara case. I’d like to be enjoying the fact that I’m getting married in four days, not dealing with this crap.”
“What now?” Tate settled into a chair and sighed. Could anything ever run smoothly, for once?
“Remember we were looking for Meyer’s buddy, Rodney McColl?”
“Yep.”
“We picked him up yesterday evening in a park, passed out drunk. He’s sobered up now, and he tells us that the day before Meyer disappeared, he overhead him talking on his cell phone to someone about the night of the theft. He doesn’t know who Meyer was talking to, but it was clear that Meyer was trying to shake the person down for cash, in exchange for his silence. Meyer definitely said something about Portia entering the jewelry store the night of the theft.”
That was not good news; tensions were already running high with the Sinclair pack. “Did you try to contact her yet?”
Loch nodded. “Yep. Her cell phone goes straight to voicemail. We tried tracking the cell phone location, but it’s apparently turned off, and it hasn’t been used at all since the night of the theft.”
Tate was puzzled. “If she broke into the jewelry store, I could see her stealing the tiara out of spite, to mess with you and Ginger. But why would she disappear afterwards? You’d think she’d want to stick around and enjoy the fireworks she created. Disappearing is bound to raise questions.”
“I don’t know. I’ve called in the Sinclairs to see what they’ve got to say about it.”
So that’s why Loch had called Tate in, so they could present a family show of unity before the hostile leaders of the Sinclair pack. “No wonder you don’t look happy.”
The Sinclairs strode through the door several minutes later. Quincy had brought Aurora and Cornelia with him. Loch gestured at the chairs in front of his desk, but Quincy frowned and shook his head, his face bearing the expression of someone who’d smelled something foul.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Quincy said. “Why are you asking about Portia’s whereabouts?”
“We’ve received word that Portia was seen entering the Hooper’s jewelry shop early Saturday morning, a few hours after midnight,” Lance said.
Quincy straightened up, eyes snapping with anger. “Who said this?”
“I can’t reveal that at this point. It’s an active investigation. When we tried to contact Portia, her phone went straight to voice mail. When we tried to call her at work, we were told she wasn’t in. She hasn’t responded to email or texts. We went by her house and nobody answered.” He turned to Cornelia, who owned a real estate business where Portia had recently started working. “Has your daughter been in to work this week?”
Tate expected them to explode with anger, but instead, Cornelia glanced at Quincy, who frowned and nodded.
“She never came to work Monday morning, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls,” Cornelia said, her lips pinched and her eyes glittering with angry tears. “She hasn’t come to work all week. We went into her house on Wednesday. There was a pile of mail inside the door and she clearly hadn’t fed her cat in days. Her purse wasn’t there, but her suitcases are in her closet. It doesn’t look as if she packed to go anywhere.”
“Why didn’t you report her missing?” Loch asked angrily.
Cornelia flushed. “As if you would have cared. The way you led her along and then dumped her. Whatever happened to her, this is all your fault!”
“Cornelia, leave the room,” Quincy ordered.
She stood and flounced out, tossing an angry glare over her shoulder at Loch.
Aurora got up and shot a dirty look at Loch. “You see what you’ve done?” she asked icily. “If you’d called off the wedding, my niece wouldn’t be missing.”