Page 92 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Before the panic could set in again, I decided to start calling the hotels within walking distance. Of course there were a ton of bed and breakfasts throughout the area as well, but I had to start somewhere.
None of them had a guest registered under Angelina’s name. She could be using a fake one for all I knew. The fact was, if she didn’t want to talk to me, it was going to be damned near impossible to find her.
In a flash of inspiration, I dialed Wilder’s number. If anyone could find her, it would be a security expert.
“Hey buddy. What’s up?” my friend asked. A woman’s laugh in the background told me Wilder wasn’t alone.
“Hey man. Sorry to bother you. I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s going on? The girls okay?”
“Yeah, they’re great. It’s Angelina—she’s disappeared.”
Wilder’s tone shifted from friendly curiosity to all-business. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“This afternoon. It’s not a kidnapping or anything. She left… after my ex showed up.”
“Ooohhh,” Wilder said with understanding. “So I’m guessing you went ahead and made your move then?”
“Yeah, and everything was going great. But now things are all messed up. I’ve got to find her, Wild. I’ve already checked with Cinda Wessex and a bunch of hotels, but she could be anywhere. She’s got some friends who are nannies. She could be staying with one of them, maybe. She could have gone to the airport and gotten on a plane for all I know.”
“Okay, calm down. We’ll find her,” Wilder assured. “Let’s start with some questions. First… does she have any family in the area?”
* * *
Wilder got back to me in under an hour. “I found her.”
“You did?” My pulse pinballed through my veins. “How? Where?”
“You’re not gonna believe this—she’s about two houses down the street. She went to her mom’s house.”
My head jerked back in shock. “Wow. I didn’t think they were even on speaking terms.”
Angelina must have really been devastated to go home to her mother. “Thank you—really—I owe you one. And I’m sorry I bothered you. You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Nah—just a man in love. It’ll make you do some stupid shit, that’s for sure. Let me know how it goes. And Sully?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
After making sure Anouk would remain in the house with the girls, I walked down the street to the corner home where Angelina had grown up.
The mansion was very old and in poor condition despite its size and the grandeur of its design. The stone exterior walls had stood up well to the wind and the waterfront humidity, but the paint on the window frames was chipped and worn to the point of being non-existent, and the heavy wooden front door was warped and cracked. Vines crept up to nearly the roofline in some spots.
The place almost looked uninhabited except for one low light in a first-floor window and one behind a high tower window made of stained glass.
Was Angelina up there? My heartbeat was louder than the ancient brass door knocker as I waited for someone to respond.
After the second knock, the drapes on one of the lower windows parted then quickly closed again. Well,somebodywas home, and I wasn’t leaving until they answered the door.
I kept knocking until finally I heard the slide of a deadbolt. The big old door creaked open to reveal a woman.
“Mrs. Rappaport?”
“It’sMiss,” she corrected with a hiss.
“Miss Rappaport, hello. I’m Sullivan Reece. I live down the street. Your daughter’s been working for me for the past—”
