Free Madeline Mann by Julia Buckley

Saugatuck.
    “We just got here,” said Jack. “But we like this restaurant.”
    Wick laughed heartily, like Old King Cole. Some people entering the restaurant waved and called out to him, and he gestured back regally.
    “Have you lived here long?” I asked him.
    “Almost ten years, Madeline,” he told me. He gave the impression that he was confiding in only me, even though Jack was right there listening. I imagined that Wick was a very alluring bachelor, what with his money, his apparent popularity, and his undeniable attractiveness. “I bought a bed and breakfast out here, and it did real well, and now I have two. I'm also opening a restaurant in the spring, with my business partner.” He waved again, at some people who were leaving and seemed bent on getting his attention before they did.
    “Is your partner also a businessman here in Saugatuck?” I asked.
    Wick twinkled at me. “My partner is named Shelly, and aside from being a successful shop owner here in town, she also happens to be my girlfriend.”
    I turned red, ashamed of my own sexism. That was the sort of thing I liked to expose in other people. “So,” he asked, his eyes scanning the room for more friends, “you're here visiting Logan?”
    “Is he in town?” I asked him. “We're on a fact-finding mission.”
    Suddenly Wick's broad face lost some of its geniality. He ran a hand through his thick gray hair and stroked some imaginary stubble. I noted, in the pause of his impending remark, that his tweed coat and jeans looked expensive, as did the boots that peeked out from below his denim hems.
    “Did your mom send you?” he asked.
    That one came so far out of left field that I was stricken dumb for the third time. I was forced once again to display my intelligent look, although this time I stylishly added a slight whining sound through my nasal cavity.
    “My mother?” I finally managed.
    Jack sent me a quizzical glance and answered for me again.
    “Actually Madeline's here on behalf of Logan's wife. Apparently there's been a lack of communication about Logan's whereabouts. He forgot to mention where he was going, or what they should do for money while he was gone.”
    Wick's facial skin seemed to tighten, and he sat abruptly on the edge of Jack's side of the booth. “Logan told me Jamie and the kids were visiting her parents in Peoria.”
    I was now uncomfortably aware of my position as bearer of bad news. “That's not true,” I said gently. “He walked out for diapers on Wednesday night and didn't come back. Jamie is beside herself with worry, and they're all pretty stressed. And hungry.” I added this last part half as a joke, but no one laughed.
    Wick Lanford sat like a graven image, taking this in. His jaw worked briefly, like he'd found a piece of steak somewhere in his molars, and then he was still. I was trying to formulate something like an apology when he started talking, apparently in an effort to articulate his growing anger.
    “A little vacation, he told me. And hungry babies at home. Not even a call, except to Linus—”
    “Linus?” I asked. “Is that how he got here? Jamie wondered where he could go without a car.” Linus was Logan's older brother.
    Wick nodded. “My son Linus is a supplier for my inns. He travels back and forth all the time. Logan just hitched a ride.” He mused some more. Jack surreptitiously continued eating his shrimp. I couldn't blame him.
    I had a thought. “If Logan's here, why didn't he answer the door when we drove to the cabin?” For once I had captured Wick's roaming eyes, which looked rather miserably into my own.
    Logan's dad seemed a little edgy. “He didn't answer? Well, maybe he thought—I mean, did he know it was you? Know why you all were there?”
    “I called out to him. I imagine he could have heard me, or seen me through the window,” I said.
    Wick stood suddenly. “I'll get to the bottom of this right now. Do you two need a place to stay? I've got the two B and Bs here in