The Lost Boys Read online

“I know. Try not to hate her.”

  “I don’t hate Terry and I don’t hate Chris. They’re your parents, and they produced a fabulous child.”

  “Does Peter hate her?”

  “Of course he doesn’t hate her. He wasn’t happy when she left you with us without a forwarding address—for your sake, not for ours. You’re part of our family now. Everyone considers you part of the family.”

  “I know.” Gabe bit his lip. “And I do appreciate everything.”

  “Your appreciation is not necessary. Concert tickets are another thing.”

  Gabe smiled. “You know, I talk to Hannah almost every day when I’m in the city. When I was telling her about the situation, she told me to ask you what to do. She said you were very wise.”

  “Funny.” Rina laughed. “My daughter has never said that to my face.” A sigh. “When are you meeting your mom?”

  “I said that I’d call her when I had a free day. What works for you?”

  “Next week is okay, but I do want to run it by Peter.”

  “I figured that. I hope he doesn’t try to talk you out of it.”

  “Peter has never been able to talk me out of anything. I suspect that’s a husband’s lament.”

  “Husband, boyfriend, fiancé … it’s a guy’s lot in life.”

  Rina laughed and stood up. “I’ll get the guest room ready for you.”

  “I’ve already moved in, clean towels and all.” He stood up. “I’m really sorry about that missing guy. How could they lose him?”

  “Four chaperones for fifty adults. Not a good ratio.”

  “But you’d think they’d find him right away. I mean how far could he go?”

  Rina threw up her hands. “Hopefully, they’ll find him in the morning and none the worse for wear.”

  “Unless he doesn’t want to be found,” Gabe said. “It can’t be fun, being an adult and living in a home. Poor guy. I suppose that even a disability isn’t a barrier when the heart yearns for freedom.”

  CHAPTER 2

  THE CAR IN the driveway was a BMW 340i convertible with a black top and custom rims.

  What in the world was Gabe doing here?

  Decker looked at his watch: 2:28 a.m. He’d just have to wait for morning to find out. Usually Rina parked in the garage and he parked in the driveway, but since the kid’s car blocked both spaces, he pulled the car curbside. Luckily, the area was quiet and low crime. He went inside the unlit house, taking care not to wake anyone up.

  The bedroom was dark, Rina’s shape taking up less than half the bed. She was curled into a ball with the sheet pulled up over her head. Decker picked up the pajamas she had neatly laid out for him and tiptoed into the bathroom to change. It was hard for a man his size to tread lightly. He knew he was a little shorter than his original six-four frame, but he still cut an imposing figure. He had a good head of hair although not as thick as it once was. His mustache was as full as it was five decades ago. But the color had morphed from its natural orange to almost white. He was approaching seventy; he couldn’t understand how time had passed so quickly. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to slow it down.

  When he got out of the bathroom, Rina rolled over and greeted him with an outstretched arm. “Gabe’s here.”

  “I figured. I recognized his car in the driveway.”

  “I should have told him to move it.” Rina’s voice was sleepy. “Sorry.”

  Decker slipped into bed, took her hand, and kissed it. “No problem.”

  Rina curled back into a ball. “Any luck with Bertram Lanz?”

  “No. We’ll try again tomorrow at daylight.”

  “What time is it now?”

  “Around two-thirty.”

  Rina said, “Dawn is around five-thirty.”

  “So I’ll have either a very short night’s sleep or a very long nap.”

  Rina mumbled something and went back to sleep.

  When the alarm went off in the morning, she had already left the bed. Decker exhaled sour breath and trudged to the bathroom. It took him twenty minutes to shower, shave, and dress, but he was rewarded for his effort with a fresh pot of coffee and a smiling wife. How she managed to be so cheerful was beyond his ken.

  “Breakfast?” she asked.

  “Toast. I can get it.”

  “I slept last night. You didn’t.”

  “What’s with the kid?”

  “Your foster son?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. The kid. What does he want?”

  “He wants me to come to Manhattan next week. Does that work for you?”

  “Of course.” A pause. “May I ask why?”

  “Terry is in town. She wants to see him. But he doesn’t want to see her without backup.”

  “Why’s that? Is she in trouble?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but she’s here with the kids and without her husband.”

  “Not promising, Rina. You know what happened the last time I tried to help her. We wound up with a son. I don’t know about you, but I’m not up to raising any more kids.”

  “I know. I’m going in with my eyes open.”

  “How old are they—Terry’s children?”

  “The girl should be around eleven by now. The boy is younger—four or five.”

  “What day is this tête-à-tête supposed to take place?” He looked at the date on his watch. “It’s already Wednesday. This week is pretty much shot.”

  “As of last night, we left the date open.” Rina brought toast, butter, and jam to the table and sat down with a cup of coffee. “What’s the plan for Bertram Lanz? Are you still looking for volunteers?”

  “We are. The group is meeting in front of the diner at nine. Actually, the diner is providing pancakes for the volunteers at eight. So whenever you want to show up, that would be great. But if you can’t, don’t worry. I’m sure there will be a crowd.”

  “Where could the poor man have gone?”

  “I don’t know. But if he’s anywhere within walking range, we will find him. Kevin Butterfield is organizing several search parties from the various departments. At some point, if we don’t find him, I’m going to have to go to the residential facility. Talk to the staff as well as the residents. We need to get a sense of who Bertram is and why he’d go off like that. If he has parents and they haven’t been notified, that’s got to happen today as well.”

  “I’ll show up at nine to help with the search.”

  “Thanks. What’s Gabe going to do?”

  “I suspect he’s going back to New York. He’s teaching a class, so I know he has some kind of schedule.”

  Decker took a big bite of toast and washed it down with the dregs of his coffee. “Tell him I said hi. And tell him to call me if he has any misgivings about this meeting. You know I could come instead of you.”

  “I think he asked me because he knows you’re busy.”

  “Or he doesn’t want me there.”

  “He thinks you’re still mad at his mom.”

  “I’m not mad at all. But Terry turned from this sweet innocent kid to someone who’s cunning and manipulative. He needs to watch out.”

  “I’m sure he’s aware of that.”

  “Yeah, but she’s still his mother. Mothers know how to push buttons.”

  “We had a lovely time with your mother last year.”

  “We were both on our best behavior.”

  “Maybe Terry will be on her best behavior.”

  “That’s what worries me. She’s a lot more charming than my mother.” Decker kissed Rina’s cheek. “Thanks for helping out with the search. We’re such a small department. We’ve recruited a few officers from local PDs, but volunteers can make all the difference.”

  “People helping people,” Rina said. “It doesn’t make the news, but it gets us through the day.”

  THE MORNING SEARCH proved fruitless. By noon, Decker pulled out his cell and called Tyler, who was searching from another police car. He and McAdams had started out as partners. Now they w
ere friends, although Tyler was much closer in age to Decker’s children. Their association had gotten off to a rocky start. But McAdams had proved himself an able colleague. When he answered, Decker said, “Hey, Harvard. Anything?”

  “Still dry as a bone. What about you?”

  “No luck at all. We don’t even have a scent path for the dogs to follow. It could be he was picked up and that’s why the dogs aren’t smelling anything.”

  “It was planned?”

  “It was planned or he managed to thumb a ride,” Decker said. “At this point we need more information. Which means we need to talk to people who were there.”

  “Everyone has gone back to the facility. Plus, I heard they’ve contacted lawyers. They might not talk to us.”

  “Lanz has been missing less than twenty-four hours. It’s crucial that we find out as much as we can as soon as we can. Besides, if a big civil suit is coming from the parents, the facility’s cooperation will look good. Whether we’re wanted or not, I’m going to take a trip to the Loving Care residence and search Bertram’s room. Interested in joining me?”

  “Of course. And the plan is okay with Mike Radar?”

  “I’m going to call him now. I’m sure it’s fine.” A pause. “Do you have your iPad with you?”

  “Always, but I don’t have internet. What do you need?”

  “Information on Loving Care Adult Residential Home. See if they’ve had problems in the past. Also, maybe there are comments about them and their level of care.”

  “Like a Yelp review of adult homes?”

  Decker smiled. “I don’t know if it’s Yelp, but any kind of online reviews. Everyone has an opinion on something.”

  “True that. How about if I go back to the station house and we can meet up.”

  “Perfect.”

  “How far away is the facility?”

  “From Greenbury? About a two-hour drive on a good day.”

  “Have you eaten lunch?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Maybe I’ll pick us up something from the kosher deli.”

  “Good idea. I’ll take turkey on rye with lettuce, tomato, mayo, and mustard. You get yourself whatever you want. It’s on me. And can you gas my car? I’m just about on empty.”

  “Sure.”

  “And map out a route to the home. Get directions from several sites. Better yet, get a paper map.”

  “Your car has GPS, Old Man.”

  “GPS is fine but not in rural areas where things are constantly changing. I want backup if their route suddenly leads to a closure that’s due to flooding.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not at the moment. But I reserve the right to dump other assignments on you as I see fit.”

  MCADAMS HAD A picnic precariously perched on his lap. Atop a cloth napkin was a sandwich, coleslaw, potato salad, and a small bowl of fruit. How he had managed to fit so much on his narrow hips’ worth of space was a magician’s trick. The kid was naturally thin and average height. He was now almost thirty and had filled out across the chest. He had also developed some decent biceps. His brown, curly hair had been clipped short for the summer. His hazel eyes were as sharp as ever, befitting a Harvard man. He took a bite of his sandwich, and something oozed out from the middle. He licked it up and chewed with vigor. Then he swallowed and said, “Not much to report from what I’ve read on the Net.”

  Decker stared out the windshield as he drove down rural roads, heading toward the highway. Green clumps of flora on either side of the asphalt flew by in a continuous verdant band. He was hungry, but the pathway was sinuous and unfamiliar. He had to pay attention to the twists and turns.

  “What did people say about the home?”

  “Didn’t find too much actually. The few reviews I did read reported that Loving Care had clean and attractive surroundings, decent food, good ratio of staff to students, good medical care including therapists, and lots of activities. Residents get single rooms.”

  “That sounds like all good news. Any naysayers?”

  “The main carp was that the place was ex-pen-sive with a capital E. The monthly rates are outrageous. If you pay yearly, you get a ten percent discount.”

  “How much are we talking?”

  “It varies but averages out to around ten thousand a month, which pretty much rules out anyone except the very rich. Because it isn’t even like rehab, where hopefully, although rarely, it’s a one-shot deal. This is year after year.”

  “Government kick in anything?”

  McAdams said, “Probably something, but I suspect not too much.”

  “For that money, they should be giving five-star service.”

  “I’d expect nothing less than a Michelin-rated restaurant and an aromatherapy spa,” McAdams said. “I’m kidding about the restaurant and spa, but they do give weekly manicures.”

  “Sign me up,” Decker said. “Do they make any exceptions?”

  “You mean do they give breaks to the less fortunate? Don’t know. There were fifty residents on the field trip. Figure maybe some stayed back. That’s around sixty residents at a hundred twenty grand a year. You can give a lot of services with that kind of money and still make a profit.”

  “There are a lot of very wealthy people in the tri-state area always looking for the best of everything.”

  “Right you are,” McAdams said. “And yet all that money didn’t stop them from losing a resident. Or like you suggested, maybe he lost himself on purpose. If he did, he’d have to have help. Anyone would need help. The area is heavily wooded and easy to get lost.”

  “Maybe he had an escape plan. Do any of the residents have a driver’s license?”

  “Don’t know. Want me to make a call?”

  “No, it’s fine. We’ll be there soon enough.”

  “You want me to drive, boss, so you can eat?”

  “You can drive home. I’ll eat then. I don’t like to talk to people on a full stomach.”

  “That’s fine, except your sandwich might spoil. It’s hot outside.”

  “I’m sure I can stow it in a refrigerator somewhere.”

  The two of them rode in silence for a few minutes, McAdams focused on his phone. “No bars.” He looked up. “What’s new with you?”

  “Rina’s going to New York.”

  “Oh, when?”

  “Next week probably.”

  “To visit the grandkids?”

  “I’m sure she’ll do that, but that’s not the reason she’s going.”

  Silence.

  McAdams said, “Is it twenty questions, or are you going to tell me?”

  Decker said, “Last night we got a visit from Gabe. His mother’s in town from India. She’s in Manhattan and wants to see Gabe. He doesn’t want to see her alone.”

  “Why not? Is she homicidal like his father?”

  “Not homicidal, but she is manipulative. Gabe is afraid that she’ll talk him into doing something he doesn’t want to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “No idea. Anyway, if Rina’s there, Gabe thinks that Terry will be more likely to behave herself.”

  “O-kay,” McAdams said. “Does a twenty-four-year-old concert pianist really need help to say no to Mommy?”

  “It’s a complicated relationship.”

  “All relationships with your parents are complicated. And parents are great manipulators. It’s nothing unique … well, maybe his dad is unique. Even my dad isn’t a professional hit man.”

  “He doesn’t do that anymore. He’s … a psychopath who occasionally kills people when it’s convenient.” A pause. “I suppose I’m splitting hairs.”

  “Ya think?”

  Decker shrugged. “Long story short, Gabe asked Rina to come, and she said yes. No one asked for my advice. I’m just a bystander.”

  “Until you aren’t.”

  Decker didn’t speak right away. “Do you think I should go with her?”

  “You’re asking my opinion?”

  “I suppose I am.”


  “There’s a first.” McAdams smiled. “I guess it depends where we are with Bertram Lanz. If there’s nothing pressing, sure, go with her. I am curious as to why Gabe didn’t ask you to come in the first place. You know Terry better than Rina does.”

  “I think Gabe’s nervous that I may lose my cool.” A pause. “And you’re right. I’m better off here until we find Bertram Lanz.”

  “You think he’s still alive?”

  “I don’t know. If it was an accidental disappearance, I would have thought we’d have found him by now. But it’s still early days. We’ll keep looking.”

  McAdams said, “Does Lanz have living parents?”

  “Kurt and Mila Lanz. They live in Germany. I looked them up before we left. He’s an industrialist—steel and iron. He’s not one of the top ten richest men in Germany, but he’s still very rich.”

  “Hence he can afford the hefty price tag of Loving Home. Why would a rich German couple send their kid to a residential program in the States?”

  “Yes, that is odd. As far as I can tell, Bertram doesn’t have any close relatives in the States.” Decker exhaled. “I suspect it’s easier for them and their lifestyle if Bertram’s far away. But maybe I’m just being unkind.”

  “Probably not.” McAdams paused. “If Lanz is a German citizen, he’d have a passport. He could have taken off anywhere.”

  “He has cognitive disabilities,” Decker said. “Think he could handle airports by himself?”

  “Possibly. Especially if he went back and forth to Europe. Wealthy families do that a lot.”

  “Yeah. Wealthy families are also protected. It might take some maneuvering to get through to them.”

  “True. The rich are often surrounded with layers of protections. It’s like cutting through Kevlar.”

  “Nothing is bulletproof,” Decker said. “You’ve just got to find the gaps.”

  CHAPTER 3

  LOVING CARE HOME was situated in Baniff, a small town in western New York halfway between the Finger Lakes region and Rochester without a lot of landmarks to point the way. It was about an hour drive from Senecas—the westernmost group of the consortium. Decker and Rina had driven through the area several months ago for a mini-vacation, visiting different tribal lands, viewing the local arts and crafts, learning about the culture of the native Northeast people. Maybe next summer they’d plan a trip all the way to Niagara Falls and Canada.