The other patrolman turned to me.
“Have you had any conversations with him that would help us out?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him this past week at all.”
“Collin is usually up for breakfast before anyone else stirs,” Mrs. McGruder said. “And then quickly off to do his research, as if he’s on some time clock.”
“But you said he had taken your dinner plan,” the policeman reminded her, and then looked at me. “What about the days before he was gone?”
“Lorelei has not been attending dinner here lately. She and Liam are planning their wedding with other members of the family,” Mrs. Winston explained.
I looked at Jim Lamb, because he lowered his eyes quickly. Did he know something more, or was he just reacting to the mention of my upcoming marriage?
“I don’t know why we are rushing to the conclusion that something terrible has happened to him,” Martin Brady said. “He’s old enough to go off on his own. Maybe he met some girl who’s as crazy about his research as he is and they’re going over parchment documents with a magnifying glass or something every night.”
“I don’t think this is something about which we can joke,” Mrs. Winston said.
Mr. Brady withered in his chair but managed a weak “It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Well, he’s right about that,” Jim said. “It is possible.”
I turned to him. Yes, it was possible, I thought, but it was more than possible for a young man in this house to go missing, and not for any reason he could fathom.
“Don’t you know anything that could help?” I asked him. Liam looked at me, obviously wondering why I was taking such an active interest.
“I knew most of the places he was going to visit in order to do his research, the library, the museums, some of the people he was speaking to,” Jim said. “At Mrs. Winston’s behest, I checked with every one of them. I even called the college and spoke with the professor who was overseeing his research. He hasn’t heard from him during these past days. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t heard from him for more than a week, and he usually checks in with some progress report weekly.”
“When you spoke to Nickels, did he mention meeting a girl or someone who was interested in what he was doing?” the policeman with the notepad asked, glancing at Mr. Brady, who risked a smile.
“No, but he wasn’t all that forthcoming with his personal life, so I can’t tell you if he’s met someone here or not. We haven’t really developed any sort of friendship.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment.
“We hesitate to contact his family, but in this situation . . .” the other police officer said.
“Of course you should contact his family,” Mrs. Winston insisted. “Everyone who takes a room at my house knows they should have the decency to tell me when they are not going to be here for breakfast and dinner, if they’ve bought the meal plan. He has, and Mrs. McGruder prepares for the number of people we’re having. We don’t waste food, even if someone’s paid for it,” she told the policemen. They both nodded quickly like young grade-school boys in front of their stern teacher.
“Nothing like this has ever happened,” Mrs. McGruder added. “We had that man, what was his name, Horner, who was drinking too much and passed out before dinner one night, remember? That’s how we found out about him.”
“And got rid of him the next day,” Mrs. Winston added, pressing her lips into her mouth for stern emphasis.
“We’ll start checking it out. If you should hear from him, any of you, or he returns . . .”
“Of course. We’ll call you immediately,” Mrs. Winston said. “I wouldn’t want you to waste any more of your time on some philanderer.”
The patrolman closed his notepad, and they both started out.
“Well, this is a bag of worms I don’t need,” Mrs. Winston muttered.
Liam looked at me and jerked his head toward the door. “I’ll be by in an hour or so,” he said.
“Okay.”
He kissed me.
“Don’t worry yourself so, Great-auntie Amelia,” he told her. “It’s nothing you can blame on yourself.”
“People who board in my home are like my family,” she replied sharply. “Of course I’d be concerned about their welfare.”