by Sharon Dunn
Earl’s expression brightened. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.
Fiona tilted her head. “I’ve got to get back to work. Make sure you bring your wife. You said her name is Ginger?”
Earl nodded.
“That’s an unusual first name too.” She headed back toward the side door. “Hope she shows up.”
Mallory listened for the sound of the door closing. She moved in on Earl. “Let’s hope for both your sakes your wife shows up pretty soon.”
Mallory hated this part of her job. Earl and his wife had seemed like nice people. But the evidence suggested she at least had to question them a second time. The missing wife was a red flag. She had to put a little pressure on them.
Earl gathered his box off the top of the Dumpster. “You can question me if you want to. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“I want to believe you, Mr. Salinski.”
“I won’t leave the hotel. I promise.” He pressed his lips together. “Unless … well, unless Ginger needs me. I don’t know what’s become of her. It’s not like her not to at least call.”
“We wanted to talk to both you and your wife,” Mallory said. She shifted her weight and studied Earl. There was one thing she needed to ask without the wife around. “In the course of the last interview, your wife gave you a look.”
“A look? What kind of look?”
“Like what you were saying was news to her. Or you weren’t telling the truth.”
Earl shook his head. “My wife and I don’t keep secrets from each other. What was it I said?.”
“That you had just gotten into town right before you found the body.”
Earl’s jaw went slack. He shook his head. “I’m not sure why she would think I had lied about that.”
“As soon as your wife surfaces, I would like to talk to the both of you again.”
“Yeah, sure.” The faintness of his voice suggested he was lost in thought. “I’m worried about her.” Earl wandered away, shaking his head.
Besides Ida Mae, only one other person in the cramped car spoke English, and she had fallen asleep against the window. From her place in the backseat, Ginger could see the lights of the Las Vegas Strip as they neared the city across the vast desert flatness.
Though the pain was subsiding, her head still hurt, and the warm washcloth Ida Mae had given her had long since grown cold. After the ride in the van fell through, they had managed to get Ida’s Kirby wedged in the trunk of a Volkswagen. Her bucket of cleaning supplies rested on her lap.
The car rambled and sputtered toward the city.
“How old are you, Ida?”
“I’ll be eighty-one next year.” The older woman lifted her chin in a show of pride.
Ginger turned away and watched the yellow lines on the highway click by. She looked at her folded hands where her purse should be. Empty hands. Nothing. But she was still breathing. Pushing air in and out. That was something.
Ida Mae’s warm voice broke through her thoughts. “Are you wondering how a woman my age ends up living in a tent and working as a cleaning lady?”
“It can’t be where you planned on being at your age.”
“Plans? What do they count for?” Ida Mae shook her head. “My husband was sick for many years before he died. We never had insurance, barely had enough to pay the bills and raise our two girls. I sold the house to pay off some of the debt. I get a little from social security.”
It is possible to lose everything. She opened and closed her hands. The other woman in the backseat stirred but continued to rest her head against the window. She wore what looked like a maid’s smock.
Ida Mae patted the woman’s leg. “Jodi’s been doing double shifts. God bless her. She’s a twelve stepper. Sober for eight months. Trying to pay off some debts.” Ida leaned toward the window and dug into the pocket of her apron. She produced a jeweled coin purse. She clicked it open and pulled out a wrinkled bill, which she slipped into Jodi’s smock pocket. Then she leaned close to Ginger and whispered, “Aren’t surprises fun?”
Ginger nodded.
“Please don’t feel sorry for me, Ginger. I got a house by the river. Always wanted a house by the river. My youngest daughter helps out when she can. She’s a single mom, so she’s got her hands full. Got two precious grandchildren. One is getting ready for college.”
“You said you had two children.”
Ida Mae stared into her cleaning bucket. She fingered a scrubbing pad. “Last time I saw my Linda was when we took her to rehab.” She pressed her fingers into the pad and tossed it back into the bucket. “She ran away from that place.”
Traffic increased as they neared the city. They passed a truck stop and a trailer park. The highway morphed to city streets. The buildings grew closer together. The driver stopped, and the passenger in the front seat got out, making her way toward a lighted doughnut shop. The driver edged his way deeper into the city. At first, they passed minimarts and single-story office buildings. He stopped on a corner by a hotel with a neon bucking horse and a matching sign that said Cowboy Cottages. Jodi, the sleeping woman, roused. “This is my stop.” She pushed open her door.
“You take care now.” Ida Mae gripped her bucket and smiled.
“Thanks, Ida Mae.” Jodi stretched and yawned.
The hotels became bigger and fancier. Several blocks of bright flashing lights whizzed past her peripheral vision. They veered away from the neon brightness of the Strip. The street curved, and they entered what looked like a downtown office district. “My stop’s coming up. Why don’t you get out with me? I’ll help you find a phone.”
Ginger tensed. She didn’t have even two quarters to make a phone call. She took an assessment of what she did have. Her wedding ring and her engagement ring. She was pretty sure she had some twenty-five percent off coupons for renting a fishing boat in Calamity. Oh yeah, and she was breathing.
The car stopped, and Ida pushed the door open. The driver, a Vietnamese man with slender hands and an expressionless face, popped the trunk and hefted Ida’s vacuum onto the sidewalk.
“Thanks, Anh.”
The man smiled, revealing crooked teeth. He waved at Ida. Ida dug through the tiny coin purse she had stuffed in her apron and pulled out two dollar bills. Anh shook his head, but Ida grabbed his hand, placed the money in it, and folded his fingers over it.
The man thanked her in broken English.
The car drove away, the only one on the road. Red taillights glared at the two women standing alone by the high-rise. Panic invaded Ginger’s senses. Her throat constricted, and her rib cage felt like it had been wrapped tightly in bandages. She had no plan. No money. She cleared her throat. “How about I help you haul your vacuum in?”
“Much obliged,” Ida Mae said. “I clean a dentist office on the third floor. The man is real nice, always pays me on time. He goes to my church. It’s not easy for an eighty-year-old to get hired on. I do so appreciate his kindness.”
They stood in front of the glowing doors. A young woman walked by holding a cleaning canister.
“I can’t let you use the office phone. That wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Fredricks. There’s a cleaning crew on almost every floor. I bet we can find someone with a cell phone who has some free minutes at this hour.”
They tracked down a young man with bleached hair who said, “No prob,” when they asked to borrow his phone. Ginger left messages with Kindra and Suzanne. Arleta didn’t own a cell. She pressed in Earl’s number. He wasn’t answering, either. “Hi, Earl.” Saying his name felt strange, like trying to remember the name of a distant relative. “I’m okay, I guess. Long story. There’s no way you can get hold of me. I’m in Las Vegas. I’m going to get back to the hotel, and I’ll try to call back.” She pushed the End button. Unable to formulate the next step she needed to take, she looked at Ida Mae. “Maybe I could help you clean.”
Ida waved the idea away with her hand. “I work better alone. There’s a little all-night wedding chapel about three blo
cks up. The owner is real nice. She lets me sleep on her couch when my ride can’t pick me up right away.” Ida touched the side of Ginger’s head. “You get some sleep, and then you can try calling again. You can always find someone with a cell.”
“Thank you. For all you’ve done for me.”
Ida pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear. “You’re going to be all right.”
She left Ida on the third floor stacking magazines and humming another made-up tune. Ginger took the stairs down to the first floor and wandered out into the empty street.
Kindra didn’t like the way the old man cut his gaze in her direction. His eyes held a lusty smolder that made her uncomfortable. She stared down at her silverware and reread the note that had been left for her at the hotel desk. “Meet me at Little Italy restaurant at 10:30. Ask for a table on the balcony. Xabier.”
Kindra arranged her sweater around her shoulders and took a sip of her Diet Coke. She’d been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes. Maybe Xabier wasn’t going to show … again.
The old man rose from the table where he had been seated and sat down at an empty bistro table closer to her. Being at the restaurant alone at this hour was maybe not such a good idea. She’d been so excited to hear from Xabier that she hadn’t even told anyone about the note.
With all the people checking out and leaving, they had managed to get another room. Suzanne and Arleta had crashed. She hadn’t seen Ginger since they’d gone looking for Phoebe. She touched the note, tracing the outline of his rounded signature. This is what warm gazes from good-looking guys make you do. She should have exercised more caution. The police were looking for Xabier. She didn’t think he was guilty of anything. Then again, feelings of attraction messed with your ability to think clearly.
The old man got up a second time and positioned himself two tables away from her. Kindra pushed her chair back. They were the only two people on the veranda at this hour. Inside, a single male waiter dealt with the smattering of customers. He was the same waiter who had brought her Diet Coke fifteen minutes ago. Kindra checked her watch. Now she’d been waiting twenty minutes.
Lots of foliage surrounded two sides of the veranda. The side that looked out on the water was kept greenery free to provide a better view of the lake. Strings of white Christmas lights hung from the veranda canopy, contrasting with the night sky.
The old man slipped into the table next to her and leaned toward her. She pushed her chair back and jumped to her feet. Her sweater fell off her shoulders.
“Had enough of the view?” said the old man.
Kindra’s heart pounded. She could deal with the likes of him. “Why don’t you just pick a table and stay there?” Creep.
“’Cause I wanted to sit by the pretty lady.” His voice had a vague familiarity to it. “Why don’t you have a seat?” He patted the chair she’d been sitting in.
Ooh, this guy was forward. “I know some people come to places like this, at this hour, for that kind of thing.” She leaned over and snatched up her sweater. “But I am not one of those women.”
The old man chuckled. “I know you’re not one of those women. That’s why I like you.” He shifted in his chair and then spoke out of the side of his mouth in a low whisper. “Kindra, it’s me.”
She leaned toward him. “Xabier?”
He pulled her down with a swiftness that took her breath away. She clattered into the chair.
“Don’t say my name.”
“Have you gone off the deep end? What’s with the disguise?”
He leaned close so he was only inches from her ear. “People are after me. Two guys in suits with guns.”
She clasped a hand onto his arm. “We saw them in the outlet corridor. They were chasing you in your bear costume.”
“That wasn’t me,” he whispered. “It was Dustin, my dad.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was your father?” He did have a lot to explain.
“Because sometimes I don’t want to believe that he is … was my father.”
“What was he doing in your bear costume?” Kindra stirred her soda with the straw.
“After I saw you down in the outlet place, I went to Dustin, and we had a big fight. Dressing up in the stupid costume was humiliating. It wasn’t what he promised. I told him I wasn’t going to do it anymore. So he ran out onto the floor as the bear and then was going to slip out of the costume backstage and come out to do the speech. He cut out the elevator entrance. I watched the convention floor. He never came back out to give his big speech. I think those guys caught up with him and he was on the run.”
“Why are the men after you now? Who are they?”
“I don’t know. After my big blowup with Dad, I just needed to be alone. I took a long drive out to the desert. I’m sorry I missed our date. I was just upset and needed to clear my head.”
“It’s okay … I guess.” The disguise was convincing even close up. He must have put some sort of fake skin on.
“When I got back to the hotel, all you-know-what had broken lose.” He gathered a section of tablecloth into his hand. His knuckles paled. “Dad was dead,” he whispered. He stared at the table for a long moment. “I guess I inherited the hotel. The two guys started chasing me down, saying Dad owed them money, lots of it, and that I’d better pay up.”
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know. They showed me this agreement that Dad had signed.”
“What was the agreement for?”
He rubbed the fake skin on his cheek. “I just glanced at it. I can’t remember.”
“Sometimes if you close your eyes and picture the moment, details will come back to you. That’s how I study for a test. I try to visualize the information on the page.”
“I’ll have to try that.” He took a sip of her drink then tapped the side of the glass with his fingers. “Their threats scared me. They have guns.”
Men with guns. “You need to go to the police. They’ll help you.”
Xabier’s eyes iced over. He moved away from her. “I don’t like the police.” He jerked as though he had been poked at the base of his spine. “It’s a long story. But I don’t trust them.” His voice etched with bitterness.
Kindra chewed on her straw, uncertain of how to respond to such strong emotion.
Xabier cocked his head and slumped down in his chair. “Besides, I’m afraid if I surface, those guys will come after me again.” The hard edge had left his voice.
Maybe someday she would hear the story of why he didn’t like the police. For now, she chose to follow his lead and keep the conversation light. “So dressing up like a creepy old man keeps them from finding you?”
Xabier sat up a little straighter and turned side to side. “It’s a pretty good disguise, don’t you think? I fooled you.”
“You changed your voice and everything, even the way you moved.”
“Four years of theater school.” Xabier patted his cheek. “Who would have thought it would have practical application?”
“So why did you get in touch with me?”
“’Cause I missed you.” He leaned even closer so their shoulders were touching. “I knew I could trust you. You remind me of my mom that way.”
His words made her stomach warm and her skin tingle. “You got to go to the police, Xabier.”
Xabier made a shushing sound, putting his fingers to his lips. “Don’t say my name.”
In the main part of the restaurant, a man sitting close to the veranda shifted, causing the chair legs to scrape across the floor. The man rose to his feet. Her memory was dimmed by time, but the guy didn’t look like one of the men she’d seen chasing Dustin, a.k.a. Cute Teddy Bear, in the underground mall.
Xabier’s attention was drawn to the interior of the restaurant as well. He slammed his back against the chair, eyes widening. “Gotta go.” He kissed her cheek, leaped over the railing of the veranda, and then disappeared into foliage.
The Southern Belle wedding chapel stood on a corner next to
a convenience store. Pink and yellow neon twisted around the Roman columns on either side of the doors, which were wide open. A warm glow spilled out from within. Ginger stepped into a lobby that featured a mannequin in a dress that was a flourish of lace and taffeta. Baskets of silk flowers rested on columns and were hung on the wall. Lilting instrumental music played somewhere deeper in the chapel.
When she stepped across the threshold, a bell chimed. A woman came through a side door, holding a manila folder in one hand. Her half glasses hung from the neckline of her blue T-shirt.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Nothing in her tone of voice indicated that this late hour was an inconvenient time. The woman didn’t even have the hint of a southern accent. She had achieved four shades of blond, from light brown, to golden, to blond, to almost white, in her long, wavy hair. Narrow face, high cheek bones, and crows feet gave the impression of an aging beauty queen.
Ginger shuffled her feet. Asking for help was harder than giving it. “Ida Mae sent me.”
Shifting the folder to under her arm, the woman grabbed Ginger’s hand and shook it. “You’re a friend of Ida’s. Come on in.”
Despite the warm welcome, Ginger’s feet remain planted. “I just need to use your phone in a bit. My friends and husband aren’t answering their phones at this hour. If I can get hold of someone, they can come and get me.”
“Are you from the tent city?”
“Actually, I am staying at a hotel in Calamity.” Ginger touched the back of her head, still feeling some pain there. “It’s a long story. I don’t want to be any trouble. Ida just said that I should come here.”
“A friend of Ida’s is not a burden.” The woman held out her hand. “My name is Ann Jannette Williams. I run the Southern Belle even though I’m from Eugene, Oregon. Las Vegas is all about themes. Southern was the one my husband and I could live with. Follow me, I’ll show you the room where you can wait to make your phone call.” She inclined her head to one side, probably assessing Ginger’s appearance. “Maybe you can catch a nap.”
“How do you know Ida?”
