The Bravo Billionaire Part 25

"Emma. How the h.e.l.l would I know?"

"It's something, anyway."

He reached out, rubbed his thumb over the smudge on her nose, once and then once more, until it was gone. "Yes," he said. "It is certainly something."

"I think we should give Lorraine Smith a call."

"So do I." He got his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, then realized he'd need an area code, after all, since his phone had a California number. "Do you remember the area code here?"

She did, and she told him. He punched it up, followed by the number in the old address book.

After three rings a woman answered.

"h.e.l.lo."

Jonas. .h.i.t her with the name. " Lorraine ?"

"I'm sorry," said the woman. "There's no one here by that name."

"Is this the Smith residence?"

"No, we are the Bradleys."

He reeled off Lorraine Smith's address, asked the woman if hers was the same.

"No, it is not." Impatience now threaded her voice. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I wonder. How long have you had had this number?"

"I don't know. A couple of years. Who is this?""Sorry to bother you." He disconnected the call, dropped the phone on the desk. "Looks like Lorraine Smith doesn't have this number anymore."

"Who was it? What did they say?"

He repeated the information the woman had given him.

"Did you believe her?"

"She seemed straightforward enough. I don't know. She could have been lying, I guess.

No way to tell."

Emma was staring at him. A look that said she had plans.

He muttered suspiciously, "What?"

"Let's go to Oklahoma City . Let's see what we find at Lorraine Smith's address."

"There's more we could do here. Now that we have a possible address and a last name, we could-"

"We can do it later." She gestured at the bleak room around them. "None of this is going anywhere. And I am sick of all this brown. It's enough to suck all the enthusiasm right out of a person. I need a little change of scenery."

"Emma..."

She grabbed his arm, yanked on it playfully. "Come on. Let's get out of here. Let's see what's happenin' at Lorraine 's house." "Emma, if the woman doesn't have the same phone number, it's doubtful that she even lives there anymore."

"You don't know that yet. But you will. As soon as we go there."

"I don't think-"

She put a finger against his lips. "You said it. Don't think. Act. Do what I say. And do it now." She yanked on his arm again.

"Wait. Let me check for an Internet connection."

"Why?"

"We can look up the address on Maphunt." He punched the right commands. But no luck. No doubt the phone and the service were both disconnected by now.

"Jonas, will you shut that thing down and let's go?"

He did as she ordered, then let her pull him from the chair.

They stopped at a convenience store for a map. As it turned out, Lorraine Smith lived, or had lived, or might live in an area called Mesta Park , near the heart of Oklahoma City , not far from the state capitol. It took them thirty-five minutes to get there from Blake's house.

The neighborhood was an old one, with houses of all sizes, many of them in prairie-cottage style. Jonas guessed that the majority of the houses would have been built in the first two decades of the twentieth century. Some cried out for care, others had either been kept up or lovingly restored. Mature trees, mostly sweet gums and oaks, lined the streets and grew in front of the houses, providing generous patches of cool shade, their leaves just beginning to show the first hints of autumn's gold.

Lorraine Smith's address was four doors in from the corner, a small one-story cottage, green clapboard with white trim and a red-shingle roof. Jonas pulled in at the curb and turned off the engine.

"Looks friendly," Emma said.

And it did. Plants hung in pots from the porch eaves. Lace curtains decked the windows. There was a swing painted a whimsical shade of pink. A cheery fall wreath of bright-colored leaves decorated with small orange and yellow gourds hung on the front door, which had gla.s.s panels in the center of it and more gla.s.s flanking it on either side.

Emma was watching him.

"Say it," he recommended grimly. "Well, now. It doesn't look the home of a kidnapper, does it?"

"And what, exactly, does the home of a kidnapper look like, Emma?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Always so logical." She leaned on her door. "Ready?"

He wasn't. He would never be. So he didn't bother to answer, just opened his own door and got out of the car.

They went up the walk to the front porch side by side. Jonas rang the bell. In less than a minute, a woman was peeking out at them through the lace curtains on the inside of the door. She smiled pleasantly, opened the door and then pushed the gla.s.s storm door wide as well.

"Yes?" She looked like anyone's favorite grandmother, with a strong, stocky body, friendly wrinkles that fanned out from her eyes and gray hair pulled back into a nice, tidy bun.

Jonas quelled the urge to introduce himself. If this woman was his brother's kidnapper, uttering the name Bravo would be sure to put her on her guard.

He manufactured a smile. "h.e.l.lo, Lorraine ." The wrinkles in the woman's forehead deepened as she frowned. "I'm afraid my name is Dotty." Her face relaxed again. "Oh, I know. You must be looking for Mrs. Smith."

"Yes," said Jonas. " Lorraine Smith."

Dotty sighed. "She pa.s.sed oh, three years ago now, I believe. I never knew her, sad to say. I'm just the one who bought the house."

"Oh, bless her heart," Emma said. Jonas shot her a kook. Her face wore the sweetest expression of honest concern. "I am sorry to hear about Mrs. Smith." "Yes," agreed Dotty, and shook her head.

"Well, look at us," declared Emma. "Where are our manners? I'm Emma." Emma reached for Dotty's hand the free one that wasn't holding open the storm door. Dotty let her have it. "And this is Jonas."

"Very pleased to meet you both," Dotty said, and seemed to mean it."Jonas has been ... lookin' for Mrs. Smith for a real long time." Emma patted the back of the older woman's hand, and then gently released it. Dotty said, "Oh. Well. As I said, she is gone now." "We're hopin' that maybe you can tell us a little about her." "I am sorry. I never knew her. You might try the Tillys next door, though." She gestured toward the house on the east side, a two-story gray Colonial Revival with a broad stone porch and leaded windows in the upper story. "Camilla told me that she and Lorraine were great friends."

"Camilla Tilly," Jonas clarified."That's it.""Thank you so much, Dotty," Emma said."You are more than welcome." With one last sweet and grandmotherly smile, Dotty pulled her storm door shut and then closed the inner door after it. Jonas and Emma turned from the cheery fall wreath. "Well," Jonas said as they went past the pink swing, down the steps, and out to the sidewalk, "if this Lorraine is the Lorraine who helped to kidnap my brother, I can understand now why we didn't find her in any of those files in Blake's computer. No point in keeping track of a dead woman."

He thought he heard Emma make a small noise of agreement in her throat as they turned onto the walk that led up to the house next door.

A stunning dark-eyed blond woman who might have been anywhere from thirty-five to a decade older than that answered when Jonas rang the bell. The woman's mouth bloomed in the kind of siren's smile that had probably been dropping men in their tracks for decades now. "Well, h.e.l.lo."

Jonas smiled back. "h.e.l.lo, I'm Jonas Bravo. And this is my wife, Emma.""Very pleased to meet you," said Emma.The woman confirmed what Jonas had already a.s.sumed. "I'm Camilla. Camilla Tilly."Jonas nodded. "Mrs. Tilly-""You call me Camilla."

"I'll do that. Camilla, we're looking for information about Lorraine Smith, who used to live next door. Dotty told us that maybe you could-"

"Mama, who is it?" Another woman appeared behind the first, a brunette. This one was definitely younger, perhaps Emma's age. She had the same big brown eyes as the older one. But where Camilla came across as relaxed and unhurried, this one wore a harried expression on her pretty heart-shaped face. She carried a little boy in her arms, one who looked maybe a few months younger than Mandy.

"Jonas. Emma." Camilla continued to smile her thoroughly gorgeous smile. "This is Joleen. She is the oldest of my babies."

Joleen granted them each a nod, then spoke to her mother again. "Mama, we have to get going. Right now."

Camilla turned to Jonas. "You will have to excuse us. It is go, go, go around here lately. My middle baby is gettin' married a week from this Sat.u.r.day. Joleen is plannin' everything and we are knee-deep in florists and bakers and caterin' help."

The little boy had started squirming. "Mama, dow."

"Hush, now Sammy..."

"Dow, Mama. Dow."

"Oh, all right." Joleen bent and set the child on the floor. "Stay close," she warned. "We are leaving soon."

He toddled off chanting a string of nonsense syllables. Camilla said, "Joly, honey, these folks want to know about Lorraine ."

Apparently, Joleen wasn't as trusting as Camilla and the woman next door. That pretty mouth flattened to a thin line as she flicked a wary glance from Jonas to Emma and back again. "What about Lorraine and why?"

Jonas hesitated, wondering how much to reveal.

Emma stepped in. "A long time ago, Jonas's baby brother was kidnapped. They never found that baby. And recently, well, some information has come to light that has led us to hope that your friend Lorraine might have known somethin' about what happened way back then."

"Well." Camilla was wide-eyed at the news. "What can I say? Lorraine never mentioned a kidnapped child to me, not in all the years that we were friends."

" Lorraine died three years ago," Joleen said flatly. "So there is no way that she can help you now."

"We know that," Emma pressed on gingerly, "but we were hopin' that, just maybe, you all might be able to tell us a little bit about her."

"We don't have time for this. We are late as it is and we-"

Camilla touched her daughter's arm. "Joly, now, please..." She shook her head.

Joleen sighed. "Oh, all right." She turned a sheepish look on Jonas and Emma. "I'm sorry. Things are just crazy around here. Sometimes it seems like I'm runnin' as fast as I can to stay in one place. I get a little cranky."

Jonas said, "We understand.""Let's try again," Joleen suggested.Emma beamed. "Good idea."Camilla suggested, "Would you like to come in?"Joleen winced. "Mama..."Emma answered for both of them. "No, that's all right. We can see you're in a hurry. If you could just tell us-" "I'm sorry. Excuse me. Sammy!" Joleen called. "Sammy, get back here..." She vanished from the doorway in pursuit of the little boy. Camilla was frowning. "Jonas, there is somethin' ... familiar about you. Are you sure we haven't met before?" "No, I don't believe so just a question or two?" The frown vanished. "Ask." "How did you meet Lorraine ?" Camilla thought for a moment. "Hmm. It was some time after she moved in next door.

She kept to herself at first, but eventually ... you know how it is. You live next door to a person and one day you get to talking and then, before you know it, there you are. Friends."

"And when did she move in, how long ago?""Not long after we did.""You and...?""Samuel." The big brown eyes turned sad, suddenly. "Samuel was my husband. He's been gone for ten years now." "I'm sorry to hear that. And you and your husband moved in...?" "Thirty years ago," said Camilla wistfully. "And Lorraine moved in the year right after.

That was before Joly was even born. Dekker was only a year old." "Dekker? That would be your...?" "Oh, no. Not mine. Lorraine 's. Her only son." Jonas's heart seemed to rise up and flip over in his chest. Lorraine had moved in twenty-nine years ago, along with her son. A son who was a year old at the time.

The very same age Russell would have been.

Jonas could feel Emma's eyes on him. He didn't dare turn to her. If they shared a look right then, they might give themselves away. Camilla would start asking the questions. And if Camilla started asking the questions, he'd end up having to explain a lot more than Camilla needed to know.

And besides, he reminded himself, this could all just be coincidence. They didn't even know if they had the right Lorraine , for pity's sake.

Camilla chattered on. " Lorraine raised Dekker all on her own. Her husband had left her. I think he must have been a real loser, that husband of hers. Abusive, you know? Though she would never talk about him. She'd just say, 'Milla' that's what she always called me, Milla she'd say, 'Milla, I have had all I ever need or want to have of men.'"

Joleen reappeared in the doorway, the little boy in her arms again. "Mama," she said, "we have got to get movin'."

"Yes, yes. I know. In a minute where was I? Ah. Lorraine and men. Now and then, I'd try to set her up with someone nice? But she would never agree to go out with anyone. She'd just say that all she wanted was to get by from day to day, to raise her little boy the best she could."

Jonas said casually, "Do you think you could give us Dekker's phone number?"

Joleen caught her mother's eye and gave a quick negative shake of her head.

But Camilla only waved a slender, beautifully manicured hand. "Honestly, Joly. Our Dekker is a grown-up man. He can take care of himself." Camilla turned to him again and confided, "He's like one of the family. We all love him madly."

"Of course," repeated Jonas. It seemed the appropriate response.

"The last few years, he and Joly are like that." Camilla held up two fingers, crossed. "Best friends. Thick as thieves."

"I understand."

"She's too protective of him."

"Mama. Dekker is a very private man. And we are gettin' later by the second. We are due at the florists ten minutes ago. And I've got one of my best customers scheduled for a weave, shampoo, cut and blow-dry in-"

"Settle down, sugar." Camilla patted her daughter's arm. "You'll have yourself a heart attack sure as you're standing here."

"Mama-"

"Try the phone book." Camilla winked at Jonas. "Dekker has a detective agency. A-1 Investigations."