“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “and of all my bad habits, you’re by far the worst.”
Drex closed the door after him, squatted down, and unzipped his duffel. He took from it his suit and dress shirt. They were hopelessly wrinkled but would have to do. He forewent a tie. He was just about to start stripping down when the door opened and Talia burst in, Mike behind her.
She was brandishing her cell phone. “The call that was beeping in? The number I didn’t recognize that had called three times? It was Mr. Singh.”
“Who the hell—”
“Jasper’s tailor.”
Chapter 39
Talia’s words tripped over each other in her haste to get them out. “He’d called twice before. This time he left a voice mail. He was asking about a button.”
“What about it?”
“His accent is thick, hard to understand, but he was calling to make certain that I had found it.”
“Found it?”
She shook her head, indicating that she was in the dark, too. “I’m going to call him back. I knew you’d want to hear.”
“Get him,” he said to her then stuck his head out the door and told the cop in the hallway to summon Locke and Menundez.
“They’ll be back for you in ten minutes.”
“Tell them to come now.”
“They’ll ask why.”
“Tell them I’m escaping.”
He slammed the door. Talia had placed the return call. She, Mike, and he listened breathlessly at the series of rings before Singh answered with the name of his shop. “How may I help you?” As Talia had warned, his accent was thick. Being on speaker amplified it and made it even more difficult to understand.
“Mr. Singh, it’s Talia Shafer. Mrs. Ford.”
“Mrs. Ford,” he said in apparent relief. “You found the button?”
“I’m not…No. I’m sorry, Mr. Singh. I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“The button I stupidly failed to return to Mr. Ford along with the others.”
The door swung open. Locke and Menundez rushed in, looking harried and put out. Mike shushed them before they could barrage them with questions. In a low voice, and with an economy of words, he informed them of what was going on.
Singh’s manners were faultless, his deference admirable, but impatience was driving Drex nearly out of his skin. Eventually, with Talia’s tactful prodding, the tailor related his story.
The short of it was that Jasper had asked him to save all the buttons that he’d replaced. Mr. Singh had put them in an envelope, sealed it, and had given it to Jasper when he’d picked up the clothes.
The following day, which would have been Saturday, the day the Fords were to have gone to Atlanta, Mr. Singh had been sweeping up his shop at closing time and had found one of the buttons on the floor.
“Behind the counter,” he said woefully. “It was my terrible mistake. I must have dropped it when I was placing them in the envelope.”
He continued lamenting and apologizing until Talia diplomatically coaxed him back on track. “Where is the button now, Mr. Singh?”
Immediately after making the “unfortunate discovery,” he had called Mr. Ford, but got his voice mail. He’d left a message of profuse apology, but Mr. Ford hadn’t responded. The next morning, Singh heard the news about his disappearance. He’d been anguishing ever since. Believing that Talia would want the button, especially now that it would have greater sentimental value if Mr. Ford was never found, he’d gone to their home earlier today to return it personally.
“But no one was there, so I dropped the envelope with it inside into your mail slot.”
Menundez high-fived the air in front of him. Locke blew a gust of breath up toward his forehead. Mike harrumphed in satisfaction. Drex closed his eyes and hoped to God he wasn’t dreaming. The squeeze Talia gave his hand assured him that he wasn’t.
“Mrs. Ford?”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Singh, I’m here and overwhelmed by your kindness. I can’t thank you enough for calling me. I will be very happy to get the button back.”
As he launched into another litany of apology, Drex motioned for her to get a description of the button. To do so, she took Singh off speaker.
The four men huddled. Drex said, “If Jasper asked to have those buttons back, they must’ve been his trophies. This is one of them.” He gave the group at large a broad grin. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” Locke said. “In under half an hour, you’ve got to appear in court.”
“And you have got to be kidding!” Drex shouted. “I want my hands on that