Chapter 5
Hope woke up, still tired from a fitful sleep, and immediately looked over to the side of her bed, the way she did each morning, to look for signs of sleepwalking.
For months now, her sisters and grandmother hadn’t been allowed into her room. Hope didn’t want them to think she’d become desperate when in fact she was a practical problem solver. Two months ago, she’d bought a sandbox kit, put it together, filled it with sand, and put her bed on top of it. It was the perfect size. If she was awake, she could easily avoid it. But if she sleepwalked, she’d see foot indentations the next morning. Right now all she saw were paw prints. Zeus, who had insisted on sleeping on the silver pillow on the couch, was now on her bed, cuddling against her. She knew she needed to get him back to Matt, but first she’d warm her soul with his little body while she mapped out her day.
Her family had been blowing up her phone with requests to meet and talk things out. She was willing, and as soon as she had a plan of action down, she’d set up a meeting with them. Her sense of control was badly shaken, and she needed to get it back. The bottom line was that she needed to get every aspect of her life completely under control.
The next most troubling feeling she’d identified was the sense of comfort she felt in Matt Williams’s presence. She didn’t trust it. The comfort could only come from the nights she’d visited him. Nights she couldn’t remember. Her instinct to believe he had told her the truth about those nights also worried her, because the instinct also came from things she couldn’t remember. His presence in her life was a reminder of how powerless one little quirk in her brain could leave her.
The only way she could get rid of him was to not break the contract with the DBDA and not need his help in regaining her employees’ trust. And the only way to do that was to buy Justin’s share of Friendly Clicks. But she couldn’t buy his shares and stay in Dayton if she didn’t solve her severe sleepwalking problem. Dayton was the only place where she left her house and went out wandering the streets while asleep. Her usual precautions just didn’t work. It was too familiar, perhaps. Or it held too many memories, everywhere.
She shook her head. Her top priorities—solving her sleepwalking problem and removing Matt from her life—were aligned.
Now that her bottom line had been defined and her top priorities identified, she mapped out the actions she needed to take immediately. Forgiving Rosa and asking for her assistance was the first action. She’d forgive the rest of the lot later, after she gave them a chance to explain what in hell had possessed them to keep Matt’s presence in 1526 Nome Court a secret.
Two hours later, Rosa had delivered Zeus to his owner, and she and Hope were in Flo’s rustic living room, looking at the yoga teacher and hypnotist expectantly.
Flo nodded slowly. “Sleepwalking. I’m intrigued. I’ll be happy to see if I can help, and no, I don’t mind that you want to record the session. In fact, I encourage it. I’d be happy to get started right now, if you’d like.”
Hope took a deep breath, knowing she had to do this, but not feeling ready to give up her mind to someone else. “I just have a few questions,” she said. She had read everything she could on hypnosis and knowing what methods Flo would be using would help her feel somewhat better about letting go.
“I do, too,” Rosa said, crossing her arms. She had come reluctantly, and only because she didn’t trust a “pagan ritual” that could have Hope end up quacking like a duck every time somebody sneezed.
Flo gestured for Hope to ask her questions. Before Hope could begin, though, Rosa fired hers off, first. “Why do you want to start right now? Why are you not giving Hope a chance to think? It sounds like pressure selling to me.”
Flo narrowed her eyes. “Rosa, I’ve had a business here for two years. I have coffee at your café every morning. You and I have had some deep and meaningful conversations, and I thought we were friends. I’m hurt you think I’d pressure anyone to do anything! But I guess the old saying is true. A thief thinks everyone else steals.” She finished by folding her arms across her chest, too.
Rosa was on her feet. “Just what are you implying, Florence?”
Flo looked her in the eye. “I haven’t gained ten pounds in two years ’cause I wanted to, now, did I? I gained them because you won’t take no for answer when you offer me dessert!”
“Then hypnotize yourself into learning to say a firm no. It’s not like we shove the dessert down your throat!”
Hope put her hands up. “Ladies!” Both Flo and Rosa looked at her. “Let’s show a little goodwill here. Rosa, you started this.”
Rosa rolled her eyes to the ceiling and took a few deep breaths. “Fine. I’m sorry I accused you of pressuring Hope. We are friends, Flo, but I am wary of pagan rituals.” She made the sign of the cross before continuing. “Hope is like a granddaughter to me, and my intention was to make her change her mind about this. My intention was not to insult you.”
Flo got up and took Rosa’s hands in hers. “Oh, I forgive you, sugar. And I’m sorry that I accused you of pressuring me to eat desserts. It’s my own weakness I was angry at.” Both women sat down, still holding hands. “But please know that I’m no heathen. Yogis believe that if you meditate long enough, you find God, and hypnosis is a lot like meditation. I only want to help Hope.”
Rosa brightened. “She does need to find God. All she does is boss people around.” Rosa then turned to Hope. “You can get started now. Do what Flo tells you to do. Let go of your doubts and find God. You need Him.”
Rosa was calling her bossy? A thief really did think everyone else stole. Hope shot her a look. “Don’t you think I deserve to have my questions answered, too, Rosa?”
Before Rosa could say a word, Flo cut in. “Of course you do, honey. Fire away.”
Hope nodded once. “The first thing I’d like to know is what method of induction you use.”
“I use the relaxation induction method, but already you look as if you’re bracing yourself for battle. So the first thing you need to do is let go of that mentality.”
Hope considered it and said, “I can do that.” It would mean accepting the process by wading into it and not trying to control it. Like the technique she used during hostile negotiations to help her stay both nimble and mindful. “And what hypnotic technique do you use?” she asked next.
Flo smiled. “I use the ‘go-with-the-Flo’ technique.”
“Go with the flow? I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s because I created it. It involves letting my intuition guide me as to which tool and technique I need as we move along. I already know you want to cure your sleepwalking, and you seem to suspect you hold the answer somewhere in your subconscious, so I will start with direct questions and let your answers lead me from there.”
Hope tried not to show the instant trepidation she felt. “And this will all be kept confidential?”
“Yes.” Flo held out a document for Hope to study. Interestingly enough, only Flo’s signature was required. The protection was all for Hope. “You ready?” Flo asked when Rosa snatched the document out of Hope’s hand to study it herself.
Hope glanced at the clock. It was 11:10 a.m. The day was already getting away from her. The time to act was now. There was a possibility she could get rid of Matt and be on her way to buying Justin out soon. “I’m ready.” She took out her phone, gave it to Rosa, and asked her to record the session.
“All right, sugar. Take three deep breaths,” Flo began, and Hope complied. “Now close your eyes and one by one relax the muscles in your arms…now your legs.” Hope consciously went muscle to muscle, and relaxed them by pretending she was in a bubble bath. “You’re going deeper and deeper and deeper…” Hope continued to relax her muscles, but Flo’s soft, repetitive “deeper and deeper” chant would never work on her. It was such a cliché…
Hope’s eyelids felt heavy. Maybe it could work. “As you come out of the trance, notice how relaxed and comfortable you’re feeling.”
Her eyes flew open. “Come out?” She shot up from her relaxed pose and looked at the clock. It was eleven forty. “I’ve been under this whole time? What happened?”
Flo sighed. “We were doing so well until the end. I’m sorry I wasn’t properly able to prime you to come out of your trance.”
Hope gulped. “Trance?”
Rosa clapped. “Yes, a trance! It was so very interesting, Hope. You barked and everything.”
Hope covered her eyes. She’d barked again! “Please just tell me if you learned anything useful, first.” If success was near, then the crazy stuff would be easier to take.
Flo pried Hope’s hands off her eyes, a serious look on her face. “When I asked you if you knew what would calm your subconscious mind to keep it from wandering at night, you said you needed to forgive.”
Hope stared out the window for a long moment, breathing hard, feeling a familiar dread and desperation clawing at her. She swallowed hard, pushing it down. It was time to meet with Mrs. Caputo again. The private detective had scrawled her cell phone on the back of her business card along with a note saying to feel free to call her anytime, day or night.
Well, Hope got up with a sigh, she hoped Sunday was included in the “anytime” offer because she’d be calling Mrs. Caputo as soon as she got back to her apartment. And this time, she wouldn’t back away. She couldn’t. Too many people depended on her to solve the riddle of her mind.
At eight a.m. the next morning, Mrs. Caputo was sitting before Hope at the Panera on Brown Street. She was due to meet Matt there at nine, and she was certain an hour would be more than enough time to do business with Mrs. Caputo, first. Getting the private detective started on her case would go a long way toward helping her deal with Matt Williams and his too-familiar smile. Both their goals could very possibly be met without working together if Mrs. Caputo found Derek, he and Hope finally had it out, and she could truly find it in herself to forgive her ex-husband.
What Hope had gathered from carefully reviewing the recording of her hypnosis session was that her “inner mind” was convinced that forgiveness was the key to calming the intense agitation her subconscious mind felt while she was asleep. While she knew she might never have normal sleep patterns, it was the intensity of her feelings whenever she was in town and surrounded by memories that likely made her lose control. She had spent Sunday evening reading about closure and was now convinced it was what she needed. “Thanks for meeting with me here and on such short notice,” Hope began with a confident smile.
Mrs. Caputo met her eyes. “I’ll admit your case interests me. Most people your ex-husband’s age can be found with a simple internet search or a background search service.”
Hope tried not to look away. This would be the most difficult business meeting she’d ever had. “I guess to those of us who knew him—or thought we knew him—it isn’t too unusual. Derek was a loner. He wanted to do his thing and be left alone with the people he loved. Or those he said he loved.” She licked her lips, not liking where the meeting was already taking her, and hoped her steady hands and steady gaze masked the uneasiness that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Jitters had become as alien to her as being racked with doubts, and now that she was experiencing both for the first time in years, at least while she was awake, she realized she didn’t know how to deal with either of them.
Mrs. Caputo smiled gently. “I know this is uncomfortable, but the only way to move forward is to talk about all those little things you remember that can help pinpoint what your ex-husband decided to do with his life, so that I have multiple starting points. I’ll guide you with questions. Are you ready?”
No. She was not. But Hope reminded herself that she had another uncomfortable meeting in an hour, and that her handling of the meeting with Matt Williams depended on the results of this personal meeting with Mrs. Caputo. With that thought in mind, she decided to do what she did when business decisions and negotiations stalled due to the doubts and indecisions of others: plump up egos and then restate indisputable facts so that the decision makers would feel confident enough to arrive at logical conclusions. The only difference was that she was the decision maker she needed to plump up.
Hope nodded at the woman in front of her. “Before we begin, I want you to know I didn’t just pick your name out of the yellow pages, Mrs. Caputo. You have a sterling reputation with both the duty agency of the local FBI and with the investigators at the Montgomery County Prosecutor’s Office.”
Mrs. Caputo thanked her, and Hope was again encouraged to see warmth behind the professional demeanor. “I’m also good at reading people, Ms. Piper. Above all else, it’s what makes me good at my job. And right now, you’re having doubts. It’s understandable. Hiring a private investigator to find someone from your past is a highly emotional decision, while you’re used to making business decisions based on facts and logic. It’s often helpful to consider every possible outcome, both positive and negative, to gauge how you truly feel.”
Hope slowly released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “I’ve spent years imagining all possible outcomes.”
Mrs. Caputo studied her a long moment. “I said you need to consider all possible outcomes. You said you’ve imagined them, but have you examined your feelings? There’s a difference.”
Examine her feelings? What for? She knew them well. No need to put them under a microscope. All her life, she’d always known exactly how she felt, and that what she felt was irrelevant. One did what needed to be done. The greater good was what was important. Not her individual feelings.
The greater good… A light bulb came on then, and Hope found she had to close her eyes. “I know what’s holding me back, and I believe you can help.” Mrs. Caputo nodded in encouragement while Hope gathered her thoughts. Her sister, Gracie, who had changed her last name to escape an old scandal, had been found by a PI a few months back. And although the PI had been as unscrupulous as the reasons he’d been hired to look for Gracie, being “found” eventually led Gracie to unburden herself of her painful past. But still, Gracie hadn’t wanted to be found, and things had gotten tough for her because of it. “I don’t know if the man I want to find wants to be found, and I’d like to respect that, but it of course interferes with my need to find him. The only way I can be comfortable with this is if you assure me you won’t interfere in his life in any way if you find him. All I’d need is his information, so I can then decide where to go from there.”
“I understand. If you hire me, Ms. Piper, you alone will determine the parameters of the investigation, and it will be my job to abide by them.” Mrs. Caputo then paused to consider her a long moment. “You know, I recently attended the Center for Missing Persons National Conference, and I heard from people who described feeling as if they were being consumed from the inside out, all from not knowing what happened to a loved one. Needing to know is a good reason to start this process, Ms. Piper. Please trust that.”
Hope bent to take a folder out of her briefcase, which she’d set on the floor beside their table. When she got up, she slid the folder over abruptly. “This is everything I know about Derek Shumaker.”
But before Mrs. Caputo could open the envelope, Hope caught sight of Matt Williams. She frowned. Their meeting wasn’t for another forty-five minutes. Fortunately, he sat down at a table near the front and took out his laptop. She could see his profile, but he couldn’t see her.
The fact that Mrs. Caputo was distracted by the file Hope had given her allowed her to discreetly study Matt. Normally she didn’t find beards attractive, but with his sculpted features, inky black hair, and golden eyes, he looked—she hated to admit—sexy. Up close she knew he had the grin of an imp. It was a grin she knew she’d have to watch out for. It was infectious. And infections could get out of control. He turned suddenly, as if he’d felt her eyes on him, and she waited for the grin. But it didn’t come. He simply held her eyes, and for some reason, that took her breath away.
After a moment, he smiled and threw up a hand in greeting. Hope smiled and nodded politely before pointedly looking at Mrs. Caputo to speak to her again. Her purpose was twofold. One, she wanted to convey that she was in the middle of something and that he shouldn’t come over. Two, she wanted Mrs. Caputo to leave, in case he did come over. “Do you have any questions?” she asked the woman.
Mrs. Caputo nodded. “When was this picture taken?” she asked, sliding a five by seven photograph out of a white envelope. It was a photo from their wedding, and she hadn’t looked at it in years. Derek had always hated having his picture taken, but Gracie had managed to snap one on their wedding day. In it, they were walking down the steps of city hall, holding hands. Hope had a smile on her face and was gazing happily at him. And he was looking down at the steps and not smiling. The first time she’d seen the picture, she’d had the fleeting thought that he’d been watching his step because she was leading him down. Now she wondered about every little detail. “It was taken nine years ago. He was eighteen.”
Hope didn’t like the way Mrs. Caputo was studying the photograph, as if she could see everything Hope hadn’t seen then, and so she looked for Matt again, to make sure he wasn’t coming their way. He was still working on his laptop.
“What are you thinking?” Hope finally asked. She needed to find a way to end the meeting.
Mrs. Caputo looked up and met her eyes. “That I’ve definitely never seen this man before. I have an eye for faces. I’ve seen pictures of three-year-olds and have been able to identify them as thirty-year-olds.” She smiled. “I was eliminating the possibility that I’ve seen him.”
Hope frowned. “That would be a small possibility, wouldn’t it?” she asked.
Mrs. Caputo shrugged. “I’ve lived in the Dayton region for over thirty years. Derek lived here once and possibly still has ties. There’s always a chance that I’ve seen someone I’ve been hired to find. It hasn’t happened yet, but it could.”
Hope smiled for the first time. “Well, you’re most definitely hired then, because I always hire to my weaknesses. And I’m awful with faces. Conversations I can remember nearly word for word.” But then she was quiet again, remembering how many times she’d gone over everything Derek had said the year they were married. It hadn’t been much.
She cleared her throat. It was time to bring the meeting to a close. Mrs. Caputo seemed to have the same idea because she finally put the picture away. “No social security number?” she asked. When Hope had called her last night, Mrs. Caputo had explained that she had access to databases that would make him easier to find if they had that piece of information.
“I looked through old papers, but couldn’t find it. There’s a lot I threw away.”
“And he had no family, except for his father, who died eleven years ago?” Hope nodded, and Mrs. Caputo continued. “Did he ever mention any illnesses that ran in the family?”
“Addiction,” Hope stated, with no intonation.
That earned a pause and a note from Mrs. Caputo. “Any dreams he ever shared with you?”
This was hard. “He wanted to have a job that provided reasonably well and allowed him to work alone.”
“Did he ever mention where?”
“Right here in Dayton. He—he knew I wanted to stay.”
“Did he want to stay?”
For the first time, Hope found it hard to look someone in the eye. But she did it anyway. Mrs. Caputo wasn’t judging her, she reminded herself. She was gathering necessary information. Difficult to answer, but necessary. “I don’t know. He never disagreed and always seemed content to dream with me. So I assumed.” Story of their life together, she didn’t add. Five minutes later, they were finally done. Hope took a moment to regather her armor before her meeting with Matt Williams.
“Excuse me.” Mrs. Caputo’s voice broke through her thoughts. Hope tried not to sigh. She needed Mrs. Caputo and all her questions gone. But when she looked up, Mrs. Caputo wasn’t talking to her—she was talking to Matt, who had bumped into her. From what Hope could see, Matt had rounded the corner behind the coffee station just as Mrs. Caputo had done the same in the opposite direction.
But Mrs. Caputo’s belongings were now all over the floor. And instead of picking them up, she was staring at Matt. Matt didn’t seem to notice he was being studied so closely. After steadying Mrs. Caputo and apologizing, he bent to pick up the belongings he’d knocked out of Mrs. Caputo’s arms while making a joke about Panera needing traffic lanes for people like him. But then he was quiet, and Hope saw why. He was staring at the picture of her and Derek. Hope was off her feet and snatching the picture away from Matt in an instant. She handed it to Mrs. Caputo. “You came all this way for a picture of your nephew, I wouldn’t want you to lose it,” she said with a smile. It had been years since she’d told such a lie. Growing up, it had been necessary to fib once in a while—when her mother was too drunk to show up to parent-teacher conferences or to remember to pick her up from after-school activities on days when it was too cold to walk home and she needed to ask for a ride. But she avoided such lies now. They were a burden. Always had been.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Mrs. Caputo gave her a quick, understanding look, but then she was back to studying Matt. “I’m sorry, but do we know each other from somewhere?” she asked as Matt got up and handed her the rest of her belongings.
“He’s a business associate who has a meeting with me in half an hour. And he has the habit of being everywhere,” Hope cut in, only half kidding. The last thing she needed was for Matt to figure out what she was up to. He knew enough about her personal life as it was.
Matt shot her a quick look before smiling at Mrs. Caputo and sticking out his hand. “Matt Williams. I’m with the Dayton Business Development Alliance, and I’m at countless business and community events throughout the year. It’s possible we’ve met.”
“Matt Williams. Initials MW,” Mrs. Caputo said slowly, her eyes watchful, as if she was waiting for a reaction. It was an odd thing to say and do, and Hope instinctively turned to look at Matt. His features hardened, and he gave Mrs. Caputo a sharp look. “And you are?” he asked, his voice laced with a hostility she wouldn’t have associated with him.
“Janet Shumaker,” she answered, using Derek’s last name. The lie slipped so smoothly and credibly through the woman’s lips that it gave Hope a momentary qualm about trusting the woman. But she quickly remembered that she had been the one to start the lie in the first place, by stating that Derek was her nephew. “I’m not good with names, only faces,” Mrs. Caputo continued, “So when I meet someone, I repeat their initials and match them to their face while taking a mental picture of the setting. It’s a memory trick. And it works.” She nodded at him, reached over to squeeze Hope’s hand, and left. Hope stood there, confused over what had just happened. The exchange between Mrs. Caputo and Matt had felt off. Matt’s reaction hadn’t been normal. But then, neither had Mrs. Caputo’s initial intensity.
She was trying to flesh the whole thing out when Matt turned to her, his expression still hostile. “Don’t lie to me, Hope. Was that woman really your ex’s aunt?”
Hope’s blood came to an instant boil. Probably because she had been lying, but knew she owed him no truths. “Are you seriously questioning me about things that are none of your business?” She shook her head, unable to believe his gall. “Meeting canceled, Mr. Williams. You and I have nothing more to say to each other.” She turned to walk back to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said. But Hope began gathering her things, ignoring him. She was done with Matt Williams. Done. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and this time, his voice was close, and his tone was serious. “You’re right. I had no right to question you.” He hesitated. “Don’t take this the wrong way—I don’t know how close you are to your ex’s aunt—but the way the woman’s eyes were boring into mine was kind of creepy.” She could swear there was now a smile in his voice. It was making her want to smile. And she wasn’t even looking at him. How did he do that? If she were smart, she’d run far away from the man behind her. But because she was smart, she knew she needed him to keep her employees happy while she solved her problems. That didn’t mean she had to let him off the hook easily, though.
She turned and crossed her arms. She’d been right. He was smiling. And it made her stomach somersault. Another sign she had to solve her issues and get rid of him. “I didn’t think you were so easily spooked by a confident woman looking you in the eye.”
“Well, I am. In fact, I’m feeling quite agitated by the way you’re looking at me right now, too. But it has nothing to do with confidence. Yours or mine.”
If he thought she’d take the bait, he’d sorely misjudged her. “No. It has to do with some hidden issues of your own. Your demeanor changes under close scrutiny. Don’t think I’ll forget that.” It felt good to have a little something on him now, too. It didn’t compare to her sleepwalking, but still. The balance of power felt more even. Something about Mrs. Caputo had shaken him. She wouldn’t forget it.
“What can I say?” He lifted a shoulder, charming smile firmly in place. “I’m moody.”
“No. You’re not. You’re always smiling—and it’s annoying in its way, mind you—but you’re not moody, so what happened, MW?”
He leaned in. “Thanks for sticking up for me. But I do get moody—when I’m hungry and decaffeinated. Now let’s order breakfast and coffee and sit and talk business, as planned.”
“Business,” she agreed, and turned to lead him to the breakfast counter, feeling smug that she’d gotten him to turn the conversation back to where she had wanted it to be in the first place. Behind her, he laughed, and it made her shut her eyes tight. Would she ever be able to get the best of him? She gave her head a slight shake. It wasn’t about getting the best of him personally. It was about getting what she needed from him professionally. She’d just have to ignore the side chatter and bring him back to business. Every time.