by Jon Mills
“And you haven’t seen him around town?”
“Nope. And believe me I tried to locate him. As soon as I caught wind of him asking around town I contacted all the inns and hotels in the area but he never booked into any. My guess is he either knows more than he told the cops and that visit to them was some kind of ruse to secure his story or he genuinely doesn’t know what happened and he’s gone looking for her.”
She nodded and took another drink of her coffee. “What do you know about him?”
“Not a lot. I’d seen him around town. You tend to see the same faces after a while but until the fire he wasn’t even on my radar. After, I asked around and found out that he used to do jobs for people. He’d install a fence, paint a room, install a dishwasher, and go fetch items you wanted from the store. But get this. He never charged anyone. Can you believe that?”
“Help me to understand that. He lived in that huge house, did work for people for no payment?”
“Yeah. Must have fancied himself as some kind of philanthropist.”
“Interesting. And what about Dana?”
“I didn’t know her either. I used to see her working on her laptop in this shop every day but I never had a conversation. You’d probably best speak with Cathy over there. She was a friend of hers.”
“I assumed you already have.”
He chuckled. “Listen, I don’t know how they run things down at the Chronicle but here we don’t get paid a lot to waste our time. Sure if my boss had his way I would be working all hours of the day and night, chasing down leads, parked outside homes doing surveillance. Nope. Not me. I showed up, I took photos, I called around to a few of my sources and contacted the lodgings in the area but that was it. Where these people have gone is their business. I really don’t care. Now had someone turned up dead that might be a different story but from what I can tell this is a simple accident that happened. I assumed the homeowners were away on vacation when it started. It was only when I heard from my source at the department about Jack inquiring as to the whereabouts of Dana, did I think that something was amiss. Now that you’ve filled me in on her backstory I’m beginning to think that perhaps she was targeted.”
“Retribution?” Kelly asked.
“Who knows? I mean, do we know anything about the family of this man that was killing people in San Francisco? Sure we heard about how many he’d murdered, the gruesome nature of the murders and the link to the Zodiac case but what about his kin? Maybe one of them wanted retribution for his death?”
Kelly leaned back and turned her cup ever so slowly in her hand.
“Look, we’re probably only going to be here until tomorrow and we’ll be heading back to the city. If I leave my card with you and anything comes up will you keep me informed? You can email or phone.”
“Sure,” he said.
She unzipped her purse and fished around before handing him one. Adam got up and before he left he turned back. “Word of advice, Ms. Armstrong. I’m not sure how long you’ve been a reporter or what you plan to do with this story but something I learned very early in my career was not to get too attached to the story. Write it as you see it and move on. It’s not worth heading down a rabbit hole in pursuit of the unknown. It only leads to complications. I’ve seen good friends of mine get obsessed and take their work home and the next thing you know they are booking themselves into an A.A. meeting.”
“I don’t drink much.”
“Neither did they.”
“Well, I’ll take that into consideration,” she said. “Thank you.”
He smiled and headed out but not before thanking the staff and stopping at a table close to the door to speak with a girl. They laughed and he waved to her before heading out into the busy day.
Kelly remained there chewing over what he’d said. All the while she noticed the woman behind the counter was staring. The same one Adam had pointed to — Cathy. Kelly got up and went to the far end of the counter and waited until she wasn’t serving anyone before she asked for a moment of her time.
“Sorry to interrupt your day. My name’s Kelly Armstrong. Adam said you knew Dana Grant. Is that right?”
Cathy looked out the window and then back at her again. She nodded.
“Look,” she fished into her bag for another card so she could show her the emblem for the San Francisco Chronicle and her title there. “We used to work together. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
Cathy grimaced. “I’m short on staff today.”
“It won’t take a minute. We’re trying to find her.”
She nodded and let the other girl know before she came over to Kelly’s table.
“How well did you know her?”
“We talked on a daily basis. She used to come in and sit over there and work.”
“Work? On what?”
“She never really divulged. She said it was something to do with travel. She’d go off for several days at time but she’d always come back here and be hammering away. I assumed she was writing articles about different cities or restaurants. I even thought she was a critic at first. That’s actually how we struck up a conversation. I thought she was scoping out my café.” Cathy smiled.
Kelly nodded. “Did she say what company she worked for?”
“She was a freelance writer. I gathered it was for a blog or a magazine, or she was writing a book.”
“And did she ever mention Jack?”
“All the time. He’s a good man, Ms. Armstrong. He’s helped a lot of folks around this town.”
“Yeah, I heard. A real philanthropist.”
“I wouldn’t call him that. He didn’t give away money.”
“But he had money,” she shot back.
“A lot of people in this town have money, Ms. Armstrong. Where people choose to live, what kind of houses they buy, what type of cars they drive is their business. As long as they are kind and well mannered that’s all that matters to me. And I can tell you from experience that both of them were good people.”
“Were?”
“Are… good people,” Cathy corrected herself.
Kelly nodded and looked across the room.
“So on the day of the fire did she say anything to you?”
“I didn’t see her that day or the days after. The last time we spoke she was working on a project, and she told me that Jack was away. That’s it.”
Kelly nodded. “So he must have swung by and spoke to you when he returned?”
She shook her head.
“Really? Strange, if my partner went missing, I would approach those who were closest to him. I’d want to know when he was last seen, what he had to say, and so on. Now I know he visited the police department but you’re saying he didn’t drop by and speak to you?”
“Nope.”
Kelly didn’t have a gift for telling if someone was lying but she was convinced Cathy wasn’t telling her the whole truth. She was quick to change the topic.
“So do you have any leads so far?” Cathy asked.
“Unfortunately no. We’re as much in the dark as you are. Did Dana ever talk to you about Jack? You know, where she met him, how long she knew him, that kind of stuff?”
“I did ask but all she said was that she met him a long while ago back when she was living in Maine. That was all.”
“Maine?”
“Rockland Cove, Maine. She used to run a motel there.”
“You wouldn’t have the name of it?”
Cathy frowned. “Unfortunately, no.”
Kelly had her phone recording the conversation and she made a mental note to look into that. “Is there anything you can remember that might be useful?”
Cathy shook her head and looked over to her co-worker. “Look, I have to get back to work. I hope you have success finding her.”
“Thank you. And I appreciate you taking time out of your day.”
Kelly gave a warm smile then got on her phone to find out what Zach had managed to uncover. She anticipated that he’d sp
ent the majority of the time lying on the grass taking in the afternoon rays instead of actually digging in the blackened remains.
“How did it go?” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Good. I got a few leads but nothing to call home about. Did you find anything?”
“Yeah. It took a lot of digging through that crap but I came across what was left of a frazzled notebook in the basement. It was buried below a mountain of ash. It’s in a bad state but a company in the city might be able to get something off the hard drive. We might get lucky. Right now though I need a shower. I look like I’ve been up the back end of a rhino’s ass. Which reminds me…”
“No, Zach, I won’t be joining you in the shower.”
He laughed. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say that but now that you mention it, it could be good. Besides, that tells me it’s crossed your mind. Maybe there is hope for us.”
She gagged. “Look, I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
She hung up and sat there for a few minutes longer finishing off her drink and watching the afternoon hustle as people came in for lunch. She glanced over to where Cathy had told her Dana used to sit. What had she been working on? As a freelance writer it could have been anything. She’d dabbled in that briefly while in college as a way to cover her loans. Projects were a mixed bag and rarely required travel. But that raised an interesting question. Where had she gone? And was there a way to retrace her steps in those final days? Kelly collected her things and headed out onto the street. She scanned the buildings for video cameras. Someone must have caught them on camera. If not Dana, at least Jack. Having a face they could put the name to would certainly go a long way in trying to track him down.
Chapter 13
Jack chose to hang around Santa Fe Plaza while Tyson completed his delivery. Tyson told him to soak up some of the culture and had pointed out a bar. He said they’d meet up later and head over to Cosmo’s to see what he’d managed to dig up from the video. So, with time to kill, Jack visited a few shops that afternoon and bought himself a strange lunch called the Frito Pie from the Five and Dime General Store. The bartender in the bar had recommended it. It sounded disgusting but it tasted like pure gold. It was a bag of Fritos, with red chili, ground beef, pinto beans and melted cheese and the whole thing was served up in the bag. At less than five bucks it wasn’t a bad deal.
After, he sat smoking a cigarette beneath the monument in the exact spot Dana had been. He surveyed the surrounding stores and noticed several had surveillance cameras. Most serious surveillance systems kept recordings from thirty to ninety days, others anywhere from two to seven before the last record was overwritten. He turned to his left and right and honed in on a jewelry store that had multiple cameras. Two pointed at the door and another was pointing outwards. Was it possible it had picked up Dana on the day she was here? He dropped his cigarette and twisted it under his boot before heading out of the main plaza, across the street. Jack adjusted his duffel bag on his shoulder and wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. The heat of the afternoon bore down on him making his shirt stick to his back as he darted between parked vehicles and into the store. A blast of cold air blew against his face as he entered. It was a welcome relief. Inside all the gold jewelry seemed to glow and sparkle from behind glass cabinets. There were several staff members assisting people.
“May I help you find something, sir?” a blond woman with her hair pulled back, and wearing dark business attire, asked from behind a counter.
“Would the manager be around?”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, I was hoping he might be able to help me.”
“Is it a question I can help you with?”
“Look, I know you’re trying to be helpful and all but I’d prefer to speak with him.”
“I’ll go get Lidea.”
“Lidea? Right.” Now he felt like a fool for assuming it was a guy. Jack browsed some of the jewelry and scanned the price tags. It was outrageously high priced, a far cry from the kind of stock he could find in New York. Looking at all the diamonds brought back memories of his teen years. Long before Jack got involved with Roy, Jack and his son Angelo Gafino would hang around the diamond district in midtown Manhattan, smoking joints, talking to gals and eyeing the ground. Angelo called it the walkway of dreams as many a poor man had changed his fortune by searching the cracks in the sidewalks for embedded diamonds, gems and gold. Armed with tweezers and a butter knife they would search for hours for tiny diamonds, ruby chips and gold. Most of it was already cut and polished. These were pieces that had been carelessly dropped. Some of it had fallen off clothes, got stuck to the bottom of shoes, or dropped out of jewelry and gotten jammed into dirt and gum on the streets. Anything they found, Angelo would resell back to the jewelers. He got a real kick out of seeing the look on their faces when they came in with a few tiny pieces. Jewelers would purchase it back at the lowest rate and that money went for alcohol, and parties.
Jack had his back turned when the manager came out.
“Can I help?”
Jack cast a glance over his shoulder. The woman was a long-haired brunette, wearing glasses, and dressed impeccably. Everything about her screamed class. She turned her nose up at him as if he was some bum off the street. He already thought she wouldn’t help him but looks could be deceiving.
“A close member of my family went missing about a week ago. She was last seen here at the Plaza.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I noticed you had CCTV cameras outside. How long do you keep your footage before overwrite?”
“Thirty days.”
“Listen, I know this is going to sound like a strange request but would you mind if I go through the footage? If I can just—”
“Do you work for the police?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then I can’t do that. Speak to the police.”
She turned to leave.
“Please, I’ll pay. Good money.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a wad of cash.
She glanced at it and looked back at him, then raised a finger and excused herself. Jack remained for a few seconds, unsure if she had gone out to make a copy of the recording. While waiting he walked the full length of the room and then leaned over the counter and saw the manager on the phone. As soon as she saw him she slammed the phone down. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Who did you call?”
“I need you to leave.”
His hand slipped to the small of his back.
For a split second he thought of doing what he would have done in the past but as he was expecting to stay in Santa Fe for a while, and he didn’t want to bring trouble down on Tyson, he opted to leave without causing a scene. There were other ways. Outside he crossed back into the Plaza, glancing over his shoulder at the jewelry shop. The manager stared at him out of the double doors so he darted into the bustling marketplace. Satisfied he was out of sight, he slipped between booths and down an alley then doubled around the building to find out who she’d called. Sure enough once he had the store in sight a cop car was stationed outside. She must have got spooked and thought he was a criminal intent on robbing the place. Jack sighed, glanced at his watch and walked away from the Plaza. He wasn’t meant to be meeting Tyson there for another hour, by then he hoped the cops would be gone.
To avoid trouble he stayed off the street and visited a few art galleries. Had Dana been here? She loved art and took every opportunity to take it in.
In New York he would have known where to go, what doors to bang on, who to contact to find out where she’d gone but here he felt like a small fish in a large ocean. Fourteen months away from what he did for a living had made him rusty. Had he lost the edge?
When Jack returned to the Plaza later that day he was much more cautious. He saw Tyson standing by the monument doing a 360-degree turn wondering where he was. The problem was the cops weren’t gone. The cruiser was still parked outs
ide the jewelry store. Thinking fast he gestured for a group of ragtag kids in a park to come over. Jack hunched over and gave one of them a twenty-dollar bill and told him to take a message over to Tyson if he wanted another. The looks on their young faces were priceless. It was probably more money than they made in a few months hustling tourists for photos. They would offer to take a photo and then after ask for a donation. It was a clever act that sometimes paid well. New York ghetto kids had been doing it for years. They shot off at lightning speed, returning with Tyson and their hands out a minute later.
He paid the kids off, and they set off for Cosmo’s place.
Along the way he brought him up to speed on his attempt to find footage of the area. His desperation to get a lead, anything that might bring her back was beginning to cloud his judgment.
“What the hell? Jack, you can’t be flashing that kind of money around here. The cops are as dirty as they come. They’ll take the cash, shoot you and bury you in a shallow grave on the outskirts of town. Besides, there’s no need, Cosmo is a whiz when it comes to this kind of shit. You’ll see.”
Upon their arrival at Cosmo’s, he beckoned them into his apartment. It was a squalor of a place. A one-bedroom hole in the wall with a bathroom that hadn’t seen a cleaning cloth in years, and reeked of piss. The living room was set up like a NASA control room. He had two computers, three servers, three monitors and a desk stacked with all manner of electronic equipment. The kitchen was open and extended into his living area. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, as was the garbage can. An open box of pizza was on the counter, with two moldy slices inside, and there were bags full of empty wine bottles, and beer cans. Without asking them if they wanted a drink he went over to the fridge and grabbed out a couple of Buds, tossed them over and plunked himself down in front of his computer. Immediately to his right was a well-used bong, and a large doobie.
“Photos are over there,” he said, pointing to a printer. Jack scooped up a large number of missing person flyers. He had Dana’s name at the top, some brief information on where she was last seen and what she was wearing, and a close-up shot of her taken from the video. “Right now on to the good shit. First, who is this chick?”
