Wise up! Mick needed to get this outlaw thing down better. Early morning, police patrol the parks looking for vagrants, druggies asleep in their vehicles. Safest place to clean up is a big gas station, a convenience mart thing with a lot of commercial traffic. Live and learn.
* * *
Just before noon Mick parked the car around the corner from the library and sat on a bench inside where he could watch the locker. They’d agreed: “Tomorrow, noon, the library.” One o’clock. Two o’clock. Three … Mother of Mercy, he’d never really let himself consider the possibility. They’re not coming.
He went to the locker and shook the door. It was still locked. They hadn’t come back.
“You need something there?” Some man with a plastic name badge.
“I was just seeing if my sisters are still in town,” Mick said, rubbing his nose to mask his face and keeping his eyes on the floor like he was embarrassed. “Uh, thanks, I’ll check back.” He was moving toward the glass exit doors. Could the sheriff have circulated his photo to public buildings in neighboring states? He thought they shared the same government Internet system. Did Portage High have a picture officers could have used? Mick didn’t believe so.
“What they look like?” This from behind him, a female voice.
When he turned, a woman janitor was facing him, hand on the mop sticking out of her rolling water pail.
“At the lockers? Pretty? Kinda slim?” she asked.
Mick stopped and walked back. What the hell? Nearly everything he’d been doing lately was a risk.
“Dropped my broom,” the woman said. “She bent right over and got it up. Nadine don’t meet many like that anymore,” she said, shaking her head.
Mick saw “Nadine” stitched in red on the woman’s uniform.
“Yeah, yes,” he said, “that’s her. One of them. Uh, I’ve been working … I told them I’d give them a ride back—”
“Them girls should be with they folks! Too young to be out travlin’.” The woman frowned at him like it was his fault.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Mick looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the conversation. Didn’t seem like it. “So”—he faced her again—“you see what she did? Get bags and take off?”
“Well, got more clothes is alls. Early. I just come on. They probly still around. I see ’em I tell ’em you’re looking.”
* * *
Mick sat in the car near the building until four, then drove downtown. Party town. Wouldn’t Grace be right in the thick of it?
He went to the boulevard that ended at the big hotel on the lake and rolled slowly down the street that seemed like the town promenade. In this area, the sidewalks were crowded: khaki shorts, bright T-shirts, fathers with smiling families, jocks and fraternity guys cruising, girls with arms around each other, couples chatting in convertibles. There! Grace standing by the rail at Macaroni’s sidewalk café. Good place to panhandle. He didn’t see JJ. Where were they staying? He honked, waved. Grace didn’t pay any attention. Mick found a place to pull over in the next block, but when he ran back she was gone.
He cruised the area for the next hour until he began to feel guilty about the gas he was wasting and put the car in a mall’s nearly full parking garage. Inside, he found a bench in front of a fancy store and watched crowds of shoppers. What should he do? Try to find permanent work here? Go back to Portage and face … his dad, the sheriff, the Cassels? Not without the girls. That made him think about the Stovalls’ trailer and Gary.
Over the past months JJ had told Mick a lot about Gary that he wouldn’t have guessed. One, Gary had spent three years in prison for growing dope. Gary and Tina had been caretakers of some old vineyard property north of Napa. Planted bud at the remote edges. Did okay for a couple of years and then, federal bust. Tina was pregnant and had a kid two weeks before she went to a locked women’s facility. The kid died. Gary said Tina had a breakdown and they released her to the state psych hospital. After discharge she stayed with her sister, JJ’s mom, until Gary got paroled. She’d never been the same since.
He moved the family to Portage around ten years ago. Tina had Jon. Gary started an electronics repair business, something he’d learned in the Navy. Hardware store was his collection point for the TVs, radios, DVD players. Pick up the broken, bring back the fixed a couple of times a week. Gave Hammond a cut for a handling fee. That and the dope sales and Grace’s foster care money made a pretty good living.
JJ liked that Gary was kind. Decent to Tina, who’s basically a lump. But JJ hated the drugging and cuffing that Gary did with Jon. “The man’s just ignorant,” JJ told Mick. “Doesn’t know what to do. Those two should never have had kids.”
Not long ago on one of those river nights, Mick had finally opened up a little more to JJ. Told her he thought Gary was a little like his dad. Both men learned their trades in the service. Both did things against the law. He told JJ that he thought his dad loved him. Or maybe not loved him but felt responsible for him. Mick told her that for his part, he didn’t particularly like his father, he didn’t respect him, and that he sure didn’t want to grow up like him.
The problem was, when Mick thought about it, he didn’t know any older man that he wanted to grow up like. Being an adult seemed impossible. Like he had a lid on his future. And Grace? What was her future? Whatever it was, Mick imagined she’d fend for herself, do whatever she needed to. He was surprised to realize he couldn’t picture her being happy.
What about JJ? Who could even appreciate her besides him? Who would know she was full of dreams? Who would listen to her moon stories? Those thoughts stung. Mick knew he only spent time with her because she was there. Handy. His mind was always on Grace. JJ deserved better than that. She deserved better than him. But how would she find it in Portage?
Watching families go store to store wasn’t making him less lonely, it was making him feel worse. Depressed. Envious. Not because he wanted to be buying things, but because he wanted to belong to this ordinary world. Have a real family, a girlfriend, pick a college. Just be regular. Not very damn likely! Though he couldn’t remember doing it before, he thought of praying. Let there be something for me that I’m not seeing right now. His father laughed at prayer, but lots of times his father was wrong.
51
THE NEXT MORNING, Sunday, shortly after daylight, Mick was back at the library. His neck was stiff and his shoulder ached. Sleeping in the Bonnie was getting old. Sign on the front door said the building didn’t open until noon. He went around the block and parked across the street down a ways, the opposite direction from downtown. Waited.
Grace appeared a little after noon, walked up the steps, through the glass doors. Mick was on her heels, didn’t think she even saw him as she went to the locker.
“Forget something?” He could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
She didn’t look good. Pasty. Tired.
“Hi, Mick,” she said, not much energy. “Sorry about yesterday. JJ’s sick.”
Mick already had a speech practiced about giving your word and letting people down, but now no longer seemed the time to give it. He’d been imagining, hoping for a confrontation if he saw her at all, but Grace didn’t seem to have the juice for that.
“No way. She was fine.”
“No. I mean … she’s been crying a lot. Misses you. Doesn’t like … she’s not so good. After we saw you she sort of shut down. You know how Tina does? Wouldn’t talk, hardly opened her eyes. I couldn’t come down here because I couldn’t leave her and I didn’t want somebody else getting worried and questioning her. A lady at the shelter said she’d watch her this morning so I could get here.”
“You couldn’t come here yesterday? The janitor saw you!” Mick had never hit a girl. Was trying to hold his temper.
“Damn! What’s with you, Mick? All about you? Something’s the matter with JJ!”
“Yeah, and something’s the matter with me. You use me! Pick me up whenever you need something.” Mick could hear a whin
e in his voice and didn’t like it. Went on. “I drove you here. You didn’t contribute shit. Said I was a danger, and left me. Didn’t show up when you said. Yeah, it’s about me. You treat me like dirt. You would have split again today if I hadn’t caught you.”
“Hey! Simmer down! You got problems with the law, I don’t!”
Too loud. Everybody in forty feet could hear her.
“Yeah, but I don’t deserve it! You said to lie about it! I just reported it so the girl could get buried. I’m not the goddamn criminal!” Mick was starting to wonder why he didn’t just rent a speaker truck and tell the entire city.
“Piss off, Mick! We all got problems! Me, I’m homeless, my friend won’t speak, I’m stranded, selling my butt for chump change. That’s just a little more than I want to handle! I got nothing.”
She didn’t say “for you” but it was there, loud and clear.
“Take me to her.” JJ was the key to the next move.
“It’s a women’s shelter. They won’t let you in.”
“I’ll say I’m her brother.”
“I already told them you were chasing us. I didn’t want you showing up and breaking my story.”
“You…” Mick didn’t know what to say. What could he say? The string of betrayals … “Well for starters, you tell them different. Put the three of us together again. I’m done running. We’re going back to Portage and straighten things out.” Mick noticed Grace looking at his hands. Fists now.
His fury kept him talking. “Fix things at that shelter or I’m going to the police as soon as I walk out this door. I’m telling them I ran away after finding a body and you and JJ are in it with me.” When did he decide this?
“You can’t do that!” Grace, wild-eyed, hawk in a snare. “You can’t blow everybody up just because your feelings are hurt.”
“Try me.” He knew in that moment he would do it. Truth or consequences. Anything was better than more running. Except in this case, it was probably going to be truth and consequences.
Grace turned back to the locker.
Mick was wondering whether to stop a cop car or find the police station. When he looked up, Grace was standing in front of him with their bags.
“Okay,” she said.
Selling her butt?
52
GRACE HADN’T PLANNED to tell Mick about her dating game. It slipped out when he pissed her off. It wasn’t like shame. It just wasn’t his business. He’d find out anyway. JJ would spill it, hoping Mick would see what kind of person Grace was and maybe want JJ more. Grace didn’t think that would happen. Mick would keep nosing around, hoping. Grace could practically smell his hunger.
She hadn’t given tricking much thought. It would be better than fighting off her brothers. It turned out to be more complicated than she’d imagined. In the café, Evelyn had flirted with certain customers, getting chummier throughout the meal, teasing, making a little suggestion when she brought their check. It had been friendly, smooth, and Evelyn had selected the partners herself.
The street was different. Grace discovered yesterday that she would have to stand someplace accessible, look sexy and interested to attract the right men. She couldn’t be too obvious or she’d get arrested. Plus, she had to be careful, had to plan her strategy so she could stay safe.
The wrought-iron fence in front of Macaroni’s restaurant on Sherman looked like the best place to set up shop. She would be one of several people leaning against it and people-watching while tourists dined in the row of tables behind her. The sidewalk was a thoroughfare, always busy with sightseers walking from the waterfront to nearby shops and bistros. A girl casually waiting or resting there wouldn’t attract special attention and she could use the restaurant bathroom to stay fresh. Okay, but where could she bring her customers? It took her a couple of hours to find secluded places close to the restaurant that offered privacy but were near enough foot and car traffic so someone could hear her scream if she needed.
The guy would have to approach her and make the first move. She would get in a car if it was expensive and clean and the guy was older, like fifty or sixty. If strong younger guys like her brothers were driving, they’d have to park their car and do business in the alley behind Macaroni’s or the thick stand of trees a block away at the end of South Third. And JJ was going to be a problem. She had walked with Grace while she’d scouted hideaways.
“What are we doing?”
“Getting some exercise, finding some places we can rest without having to go back to the shelter.” Grace casually checked JJ’s reaction to her explanation. Her roomie didn’t seem convinced. “You want to go back and take a nap? I have some things I have to get and I want to meet some people.”
JJ shook her head. “What people?”
“Anybody that can help us,” Grace said. “See if we can make some cash.”
“How?”
Grace didn’t answer. Talking about her plan would make JJ more upset.
* * *
The girls walked a few blocks south on Sherman to a convenience store. “Get us a soda, okay?” Grace nodded toward the machine in back with the cups and ice.
While JJ was busy Grace hurriedly bought a box of condoms, a package of tissues, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Tucked the sack under her arm as JJ reached the cashier.
“What’d you get?”
Grace thought JJ already knew. “I’m going to make us some spending money.”
JJ’s frown spoke volumes.
* * *
Back at Macaroni’s, Grace asked JJ to stay across the street and sit on the outdoor bench next to the burger shop. JJ, flushed, hands clenching and unclenching, gave her a hard look, shook her head, started to say something but held back.
“You don’t have to do anything except watch my back and let me do this thing. Okay?”
“No.”
“Lady Jay, you know I’m going to do it anyway. Don’t make it harder.”
JJ stomped to the crosswalk. Didn’t look back.
Grace took a deep breath, composed herself, looked to see if anyone had tracked their exchange. No. Crowds of strollers, chatting and laughing. She entered the café’s front door on the corner, got shown to a window table, and ordered coffee. Wanted to establish herself as a customer. She’d do the same for the evening shift. Leave a good tip each time so the staff would be grateful. Before the coffee arrived she went to the bathroom, locked the door. She took out the condoms, threw the box away, jammed them in her purse along with the tissues and sanitizer. She checked her face in the mirror, added a touch of Tina’s lipstick, tousled her hair to give it a little more body. She hesitated before opening the door, removed her underwear, stuffed it in her purse. Ready. Now, if JJ would cut her some slack.
Grace positioned herself in an open area between groups of loiterers. Leaned back, elbows on the top rail. It didn’t take long. She gave a big smile to a heavyset older man in golf shorts and a polo shirt. Ruddy face. Probably had a few to celebrate his vacation. He couldn’t believe his luck, then got suspicious. Grace practically told him the truth, that she’d run away from a sick home. Said she was getting money to take a bus. Go to her aunt in Tacoma, but she couldn’t tell the woman what had been happening until she got there. The man understood. Enjoyed her company. Afterward gave her a large tip. Grace got it. If she chose the right people it was quick work, good pay. Would she recognize trouble coming? She hoped so. She was setting up to do this for a while.
The fourth guy, Grace made a mistake. The old man was harder than he looked.
Said, “Cops don’t pay for it. Ex-cops, same deal.” He slapped her. Hard. “That’s so we understand each other.”
She held her cheek where it burned. Leaned closer. Offered her cheek. Said, “Kiss it and make it well.” When he leaned in she head-butted him in the nose as hard as she could. He went down spraying blood. She searched him for weapons. No. Kicked him in the nuts while he was holding his face. “Tell the other cops a sixteen-year-old girl did this to
you while you were trying to hump her.”
After that she chose men who seemed shy and even a little embarrassed. Lucky. There were lots of them.
Okay. So now Mick knew and he wanted to go home, but that didn’t change anything.
53
THE SHELTER WAS ONLY EIGHT BLOCKS AWAY. Looked like a normal house. They parked down the block. Grace spoke as soon as Mick turned off the ignition.
“I’ll try to get her out for a walk. You stay here.”
“How did Gary and Tina ever get to be your foster parents?” Mick asked her, out of nowhere. “Nobody who ever made a home visit would put you there.”
“You want to talk about this now?” Grace looked at him like he was a pervert. Get the upper hand and then totally invade her privacy.
“I’m trying to make sense of what we’re going back to.” Mick looked out the windshield. If she wanted to shine him on, she could just get out of the car.
“Short story. I got put off a Greyhound in Portage, broke, and wound up at County Services. Man there, Mackler, called Hammond. A couple of things happened and Gary came through the door, said he was my new foster parent. Under the table. Gary and Hammond have these arrangements. I’m one of them. One of the reasons I don’t want to go back.”
Greyhound? Mick watched her walk to a nondescript building, knock and be let in, while he tried to think if he’d ever seen a bus like that in Portage. And what do you say to her story? Get sold like livestock? No wonder Grace hated men. Gary. He seemed like a nice-enough guy. What was happening inside him? Where was his conscience? Had he lived in that toilet so long, he actually thought it was a home? Anything all right with him for a little extra income and babysitting?
Dead Girl Moon Page 13
