crazy with worry. And then there’s the disappointment. It’s a trial.”
“Did you ever hear Erin call the boyfriend by name?” I asked.
She searched her memory. “Maybe. I might have heard her mention a name that night. Yes. It was something like it was from a soap opera. Brad? Tad?”
“Chad?”
“That’s it.”
Chad Seabright.
F orbidden love. I wondered if that Shakespearean story line had contributed to Erin’s defection from the Seabright home. I couldn’t imagine Bruce Seabright would have approved of his son and his stepdaughter dating, regardless of the fact they weren’t blood relatives. And if Bruce didn’t like it, Krystal wouldn’t like it.
I wondered why Molly hadn’t told me about Erin and Chad, why she hadn’t told me about Chad at all. Maybe she believed I would disapprove too. If that was the case, she overestimated me. I didn’t care enough to have an opinion on her sister’s morality. My only interest in Erin’s love life was as motive in her disappearance.
I drove back to the Seabright home. Chad the Invalid was in the driveway, washing his black Toyota pickup. The all-American boy in khakis and a white T-shirt. He glanced up at me through a pair of mirrored Oakley shades as he rinsed the soap off his wheel rims.
“Nice ride,” I said as I walked up the driveway. “Eva Rosen told me about it.”
“Who’s Eva Rosen?”
“Erin’s landlady. She doesn’t miss a trick, old Eva.”
Chad stood up, the hose and the wheels forgotten. “I’m sorry,” he said politely. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Elena Estes. I’m looking for your stepsister.”
“Like I told you this morning, Ms. Estes: I haven’t seen her.”
“That’s funny, because Eva tells me you were in her yard just the other night. She seems to know some pretty interesting things about you,” I said. “About you and Erin.”
He shrugged and shook his head, then added a boyish grin to complete the whole Matt Damon look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Chad,” I cajoled. “I’ve been around the block a few times. It doesn’t matter to me if you and Erin are involved. A boy fucking his stepsister isn’t going to make me turn a hair.”
He frowned at the accusation.
“That’s why Erin left the house, isn’t it?” I said. “Your father wouldn’t put up with the two of you doing it under his nose.”
“We’re not involved,” he insisted.
“Eva tells me the two of you had a fight the other night in her driveway. What happened, Chad? Did Erin dump you? Let me guess: you weren’t nearly so interesting as a boyfriend once her Mommy and Stepdaddy weren’t watching anymore.”
He looked away from me, trying to decide how to play this. Respond with the truth, with outrage, stick with denial, stay calm? He had chosen the latter tack to start, but my bluntness was beginning to irritate him.
“I’m not sure who you are, ma’am,” he said, still trying to hang on to the false good humor, “but you’re crazy.”
I found a dry patch along the front fender of the pickup, leaned back against it, and crossed my arms. “Who’d she dump you for, Chad? An older man? Her boss, maybe?”
“I don’t know who Erin is seeing,” he said curtly. “And I don’t care.”
He dumped the wash water on the driveway and carried the bucket into the garage. I followed.
“Okay. Maybe I’m way off base. Maybe the fight was about something else altogether,” I offered. “If that hangover you had this morning is anything to go by, you’re a guy who likes to party. From what I’ve heard, Erin might like a wild time. And there she is at the equestrian center, a whole new world of drug dealers and users. Maybe that’s what you fought about in Eva Rosen’s driveway: drugs.”
Chad slammed the bucket onto a shelf where car care products were arranged like a display at Pep Boys. “You’re way out of line, lady.”
“She try to cut you out of a deal,
“Did you ever hear Erin call the boyfriend by name?” I asked.
She searched her memory. “Maybe. I might have heard her mention a name that night. Yes. It was something like it was from a soap opera. Brad? Tad?”
“Chad?”
“That’s it.”
Chad Seabright.
F orbidden love. I wondered if that Shakespearean story line had contributed to Erin’s defection from the Seabright home. I couldn’t imagine Bruce Seabright would have approved of his son and his stepdaughter dating, regardless of the fact they weren’t blood relatives. And if Bruce didn’t like it, Krystal wouldn’t like it.
I wondered why Molly hadn’t told me about Erin and Chad, why she hadn’t told me about Chad at all. Maybe she believed I would disapprove too. If that was the case, she overestimated me. I didn’t care enough to have an opinion on her sister’s morality. My only interest in Erin’s love life was as motive in her disappearance.
I drove back to the Seabright home. Chad the Invalid was in the driveway, washing his black Toyota pickup. The all-American boy in khakis and a white T-shirt. He glanced up at me through a pair of mirrored Oakley shades as he rinsed the soap off his wheel rims.
“Nice ride,” I said as I walked up the driveway. “Eva Rosen told me about it.”
“Who’s Eva Rosen?”
“Erin’s landlady. She doesn’t miss a trick, old Eva.”
Chad stood up, the hose and the wheels forgotten. “I’m sorry,” he said politely. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Elena Estes. I’m looking for your stepsister.”
“Like I told you this morning, Ms. Estes: I haven’t seen her.”
“That’s funny, because Eva tells me you were in her yard just the other night. She seems to know some pretty interesting things about you,” I said. “About you and Erin.”
He shrugged and shook his head, then added a boyish grin to complete the whole Matt Damon look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Chad,” I cajoled. “I’ve been around the block a few times. It doesn’t matter to me if you and Erin are involved. A boy fucking his stepsister isn’t going to make me turn a hair.”
He frowned at the accusation.
“That’s why Erin left the house, isn’t it?” I said. “Your father wouldn’t put up with the two of you doing it under his nose.”
“We’re not involved,” he insisted.
“Eva tells me the two of you had a fight the other night in her driveway. What happened, Chad? Did Erin dump you? Let me guess: you weren’t nearly so interesting as a boyfriend once her Mommy and Stepdaddy weren’t watching anymore.”
He looked away from me, trying to decide how to play this. Respond with the truth, with outrage, stick with denial, stay calm? He had chosen the latter tack to start, but my bluntness was beginning to irritate him.
“I’m not sure who you are, ma’am,” he said, still trying to hang on to the false good humor, “but you’re crazy.”
I found a dry patch along the front fender of the pickup, leaned back against it, and crossed my arms. “Who’d she dump you for, Chad? An older man? Her boss, maybe?”
“I don’t know who Erin is seeing,” he said curtly. “And I don’t care.”
He dumped the wash water on the driveway and carried the bucket into the garage. I followed.
“Okay. Maybe I’m way off base. Maybe the fight was about something else altogether,” I offered. “If that hangover you had this morning is anything to go by, you’re a guy who likes to party. From what I’ve heard, Erin might like a wild time. And there she is at the equestrian center, a whole new world of drug dealers and users. Maybe that’s what you fought about in Eva Rosen’s driveway: drugs.”
Chad slammed the bucket onto a shelf where car care products were arranged like a display at Pep Boys. “You’re way out of line, lady.”
“She try to cut you out of a deal,
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