Too Darn Hot by Sandra Scoppettone Page B

kidnappers find out?”
    “How d’ya know there’s more than one?”
    “I heard a guy in the background talkin to somebody else.”
    “Anyway, he told ya not to get the police into it, not the Ladds.”
    “Yeah, that’s true.”
    “He didn’t say when they’d call back, did he?”
    “No.” She lit up again.
    “By the way, ya got that picture of Charlie?”
    “I gave the good one to the cops yesterday when they came to see me. But I got another.”
    She opened the drawer of a table, took something out, which musta been the picture, and turned back to me.
    “He’s much better lookin than this, Faye.” Her eyes filled up.
    “I gotta see it, Claire.”
    “Yeah.” She laid her glims on the pic like she was gonna forget his face if she didn’t, then handed it to me.
    Private Ladd was a handsome fella. He had big, sad eyes and a straight nose. I couldn’t see his hair cause it was under his hat, but she’d told me it was brown. The brim shaded part of his face.
    I lit my last Camel and looked for a place to toss the empty pack. I didn’t see anything so I dropped it into my pocketbook. “Ya want me to call the Ladds?”
    “Would you?”
    “Sure.” The minute I said it I felt queasy. How d’ya tell parents their son’s been kidnapped? Better than telling them he’s dead, that was for sure. And he could end up dead if these snatchers didn’t get their long green. I walked over to the phone.
    The Ladds were horrified but the moola was no problem for William. I told em to wait in their suite until Claire phoned after she heard again from the men holding Charlie.
    This setup made Claire one unhappy twist.
    “I don’t like the idea of
me
having to call
them.
”
    I wanted to tell her that this wasn’t about her relationship with the Ladds and to can it. But I didn’t think honesty would be the smart move to make with this client.
    “Claire, this is the way it’s gotta be done. Unless ya want the Ladds to come here and wait with ya.”
    “No.”
    I figured she was probably ashamed of her apartment. “Well, ya can’t wait at the St. Moritz with them cause the kidnappers are callin ya here.”
    “What if they don’t call for days?” Now she was getting whiny.
    “Ya gotta sit tight.”
    “Will you stay with me?”
    Oh, brother.
    “I suppose you have some hot date?”
    “I don’t.”
    “Please stay.”
    She looked so pitiful I said I’d stay for a while or until they called, whichever came first.
    They never called. At least not while I was there and I’d been home for half an hour and hadn’t had a jingle from Claire. I tried to stay off the phone, but even though it was late it was one of those times when it seemed like everybody hadda ring me.
    I talked to Johnny, but after I told him what was going on I kept it short. Him I woulda liked jawing with. Still, it was nice that I had a boyfriend who understood.
    Jeanne Darnell called, too. We made a date for the next week to meet for dinner at Fuglio’s on Greenwich Avenue. She was another one who understood if I had to cancel, which I’d done on many a night. She said she had something special to tell me. I wondered if she was tying the knot with her longtime boyfriend.
    I shrugged off a few more calls while I was getting out my bobby pins and the strips of cotton I used to do my hair. I was getting sick of this routine. I kept threatening to cut my mop but I never seemed to get around to it.
    I turned on the radio to my favorite music station and caught the Mills Brothers right in the middle of “Paper Doll.” I liked them a lot and sang along till the end of the tune.
    I’d decided if there was no news on Charlie by morning I was gonna head to New Jersey and meet Lucille Turner.
    Swell. How was I gonna get there?

ELEVEN
    T
he phone was my alarm clock. I pushed Zach off my head, rolled out of bed, and got to the horn in time. “Yeah?”
    “What if it wasn’t me?” Marty said.
    “Huh?”
    “Answerin with a
yeah.
”
    “Who are