Someone's Watching

by Sharon Potts

  The waitress came by and Gina asked her to bring a couple of glasses of water.

  “Coffee for you?” Gina asked.

  Robbie nodded.

  “And two coffees,” Gina said to the waitress.

  In the daylight, Robbie could see fine lines around Gina’s eyes and mouth and realized Gina was older than she’d originally thought—perhaps early forties. Gina was again dressed oddly for South Beach—a pink gingham cotton blouse tucked into pressed white slacks and the white cardigan over her shoulders, despite the heat. Her ash brown hair was teased up in a half ponytail in a style Robbie remembered seeing in a high school photo of her mother.

  “He’s an amazing man,” Gina said, glancing down at the photo of her husband. “Someone who has the ability to truly make this world a better place.”

  To make this world a better place. Hadn’t someone else said that to Robbie recently?

  Gina folded the newspaper and rested her arm over it so that her husband’s photo was no longer visible. She was clutching her handkerchief, and Robbie could make out the initials GT next to the lace border. Gina Tyler. Robbie wondered why there was no “F” for Fieldstone.

  “But it isn’t easy to accomplish the things we aspire to,” Gina continued. “There are always obstacles—people, circumstances, even acts of God, which seem to get in the way.”

  Robbie thought about her parents’ divorce, the move to Boston, her mother’s illness. She certainly understood what Gina was talking about.

  The waitress set the water on the table, along with two cups of coffee and a creamer.

  “And that’s really why I wanted to meet with you today,” Gina said. “I know how important it is for you to find your sister, and I thought I might be able to offer a little support and encouragement.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to say,” Robbie said. “I’m sure you’re busy with your book tour.”

  “But Robbie, my book is about helping women find what’s missing in their lives. If I didn’t stop and try to help some of you, I’d be a fraud.”

  “Well, I’m very grateful.”

  Gina took a sip of water, leaving behind the pink imprint of her lipstick. “But maybe I’m being presumptuous. You must have plenty of support—family, friends, a boyfriend?”

  “No. I don’t really have anyone. My mom died a few years ago and my father’s pretty much been out of my life since my parents divorced when I was a little girl. As for a boyfriend—” Robbie shook her head.

  “So the young man you were with the other night isn’t someone special?”

  “No.”

  The word hung in the air like a staccato drumbeat.

  Robbie added sugar and cream to her coffee. It was true. Brett wasn’t anyone special. She hadn’t even told him about her sister.

  Gina was squeezing her handkerchief like it was a stress ball. “Well, why don’t we talk about your missing sister? Tell me exactly what happened and what’s been done so far.”

  A small group of teenage girls in cutoffs and flip-flops walked by laughing and swinging their hips.

  “Kate and her friend Joanne disappeared a week ago Friday,” Robbie said. “Then on Wednesday, Joanne’s body was found in Indian Creek.”

  “Oh, no.” Gina brought her hand to her throat.

  “The medical examiner believes Joanne was drugged and raped.”

  Gina looked pale. She fanned herself with the newspaper. “And your sister? What are the police doing to find her?”

  “Flyers, talking to people at clubs, checking out parties. I guess what they usually do.”

  “In other words, not much.”

  “Well, I’m not sure what else they can do. To tell you the truth, I’m feeling very discouraged.”

  “Discouraged.” Gina waved the word away. “And you? What have you been doing to find her?”

  “I keep hoping that Kate’s all right. I went looking for her last night at one of the clubs.”

  “What else?”

  “I’ve distributed flyers, walked the beach.”

  “But just one club? Aren’t there dozens on South Beach?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been working.”

  “At night?”

  “I tend bar at a lounge. I had to work Wednesday andThursday nights.”

  “Had to?” Gina widened her eyes. They looked violet in the shade of the arcade.

  “Well, yes. I had to.”

  “I see.”

  “I have a job. It’s my responsibility to be there when the boss calls me.”

  “I’m sorry, Robbie. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re not doing your share. It’s just, I know the longer someone remains missing, the less likely that the person will be found. Now’s the time to step up your efforts, before they no longer matter.”

  She sounded like Robbie’s mother lecturing her. Be strong. Do what you can. Tough love.

  “After I gave up my daughter for adoption,” Gina said. “I thought about her every day and it tore a hole in my heart. By the time I realized I needed to find her, too much time had passed. Records were lost, people retired. I should have acted sooner. Done more when my actions would have made a bigger difference.” Gina leaned closer to Robbie. She smelled like overripe flowers. “That’s why you need to find her now.”

  “It’s true,” Robbie said. “There’s more I can be doing. There are lots of clubs where Kate might be.” But what was the likelihood Kate would be at any one of them? Or for that matter, that Kate was anywhere Robbie could find her? But she had to try. “I’ll go back out tonight to look for her.”

  “Good,” Gina said. “Taking action really helps.” She softened her voice. “You know, Robbie. It’s not just about finding your sister. I sense that she’s not the only one who’s lost.”

  What was Gina implying? But Robbie understood at a fundamental level that what Gina said was true. When Robbie found Kate, she might find something of herself that had been missing.

  Gina opened up the newspaper to her husband’s photo. “There are also things I can do,” she said. “I’ll talk to Stanford. Ask him if his people could help.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Thank you,” Robbie said. “Thank you so much.”

  Gina took another sip of water, ignoring the coffee. “Well, I’d better get going, but I’ll stay in touch.” Gina left money on the table and stood up to leave. She clasped her handkerchief against her chest and looked intently at Robbie. “If we do our parts, we’ll succeed,” she said.

  Robbie could only nod.

  Gina left the arcade, passing close to the table where the guy with sunglasses and hat that Robbie had noticed earlier still sat alone, his magazine open in front of him. Gina turned to Robbie, smiled, and then disappeared into the crowd.

  Chapter 18

  Pink and blue lights from outside brightened the dark walls like intermittent fireworks. Marylou Madison paced across the soft carpeting in her bare feet, a blanket around her shoulders. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when she was a child and she tried to be quiet as a mouse so he would forget she was there.

  But sometimes he came into the closet where she slept, his breath too sweet. She’d try not to move, not to cry when he hurt her. She would look at the peeling paint, the cracks between the wood planks where she could see a tiny piece of black sky. Sometimes, if she really concentrated, she could see the sparkle of a star. And she’d make a wish. “Please, please God. Make him stop.”

  Then later, after he left, her mother would sit on her narrow bed and wash her with a warm rag.

  She talked softly to Marylou, careful not to wake him. She would tell Marylou about the big city, the fine restaurants, and the wonderful clothes she used to wear. “I almost had it all,” her mother said. Sometimes, she would take photos of herself out of a small leather box and show Marylou. How glamorous her mother was! But she had made a mistake and here she was. “In purgatory,�
� her mother would say. “But you, my darling girl, you’re my hope. You’ll get my dreams back for me.”

  “Oh Mother,” Marylou said now, surprised to hear herself speaking aloud. “I’m so sorry.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Marylou had tried everything—the slick men who promised her the world, then working as a hostess, a dancer, and even doing things that made her cringe at the memory. And now, even as she was getting closer to her goal, the seductive pull of Miami Beach was going to ruin it all for her. “I want to make you proud, Mother, but things keep getting in the way.”

  But Marylou knew she was cleverer than all the forces working against her. Whatever it took, she was prepared to do, to save him from himself, to save their dream.

  Her mother’s dream.

  A noise came from the next room. Marylou held her breath. She hoped she hadn’t awakened him. He needed his sleep. From outside, she could hear the sound of boisterous drunks out for a night on the town, but nothing more from her little boy. He must have fallen back asleep. Thank God.

  Marylou let out a sigh. He was a trial to her, her son was. A colicky baby, an angry toddler, and now that he was older, he was even more difficult to control. But he was her son, and she would do anything for him. And he for her.

  “Ma?” he called.

  “Yes, my darling boy. I’m coming.”

  Chapter 19

  Robbie went home and made a list of nightclubs that Kate was likely to go to. She thought about calling Jeremy. He’d probably be willing to help, but was it fair to turn to him only when she had a problem? She’d go to the clubs herself.

  Brett had left numerous text messages to call him, but Robbie didn’t need the distraction of a breakup while she was focused on finding her sister. She wrote back that she was busy and would talk to him later.

  She found ten of the most popular clubs and plotted them out on a street map. She’d start at the far end of South Beach and work her way up. It didn’t make sense to go out before midnight since only unknowing tourists went clubbing earlier, so she decided to take a short nap.

  The phone rang just as she was getting into bed. It was Leonard calling to ask Robbie to come to work tonight.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she said.

  “Please, Robbie. It’s Saturday, our busiest night, and I have no one. Two of the bartenders have the flu and sound like they’re on their deathbeds. And that new girl I hired? You know, Maddy? I can’t believe after begging me for extra shifts, she just up and quit. No notice. Didn’t even have the courtesy to call me herself. Had some guy call me. So there’s no one. I’ll be working myself, but just me, a barback, and a couple of cocktail waitresses won’t cut it.”

  Saturday night. It was also the most likely night that Kate would be out—assuming she was able to go out and wasn’t being held captive, or worse. But being a runaway in the club scene was the only option that explained Kate’s disappearance, in which Robbie could actually do something.

  “I’m desperate, Robbie,” Leonard said in her ear.

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  She felt like she was letting Gina down, and somehow that translated to letting her mother down. But Leonard’s problem was real. And Robbie knew, that as much as she wanted to believe the opposite, the likelihood of Robbie finding her sister club-hopping was remote.

  She got to The Garage around nine thirty, bracing herself for an unfamiliar crowd, but she found Ben sitting at the bar in a smoky haze. She looked around. No sign of Jeremy.

  Leonard came in from the back and gave her a thumbs-up as he slipped in behind the bar. How strange that Maddy had quit without notice. Maybe she’d had enough of South Beach and gone back home with her son.

  “Hey, little Robbie,” Ben said, rubbing his clean-shaven head. “What’s? You never come in on Saturdays.”

  “I missed you.”

  Ben gave her a big grin. “Yeah, I’ll bet you did. Saw you at BURN last night. Almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  “So you and Jeremy are getting back together?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “Come on, Robbie. You guys disappeared into a dark corner, then I didn’t see either of you for the rest of the night.”

  The music was a dull background thump. She picked up Ben’s empty glass. “Want another?”

  “Sure. So? What’s going on with you two?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” She wondered where Jeremy had gone after she left. Probably home.

  She put a fresh rum and coke down in front of Ben. Several new customers came in and she took their orders.

  The crowd was still relatively light. About half the stools at the bar were taken and some people had congregated around the groupings of car benchseats. Leonard was filling orders for the cocktail waitress down at the other end of the bar. The door opened.

  “Oh well,” Ben said, “I guess the ball’s still in play.”

  Robbie checked out the people who had just come in. Brett and his boss. What were they doing here? Brett was wearing a pressed pin-striped shirt and Mike was in his standard white guayabera. They looked out of place among this grungy crowd.

  Mike wandered off in the direction of the restrooms while Brett approached the bar.

  “Honestly, Robbie,” Ben said in a low voice, “what do you see in him?”

  Brett stepped up to the bar, glanced at Robbie, but looked away quickly and pounded his fist against Ben’s. “Hey man. Saw you at BURN last night. Sorry I was too busy to say hi.”

  “Oh yeah?” Ben said in an exaggerated voice. “Sorry I was too busy to say hi.”

  Robbie sucked in her cheeks to keep from smiling. How she missed Jeremy’s friends.

  Ben finished his drink, put the glass down on the bar, and signed his credit card receipt. “Well, gotta go. I’m meeting the guys at Townhouse.”

  She wondered if that meant Jeremy, too. “Have fun,” she said.

  “Don’t I always?” He waved and left.

  Robbie wiped down the bar with a white cloth.

  Brett was watching her, shifting from foot to foot, reminding her of a kid who needed to go to the bathroom. It was hard to stay mad at someone who behaved so much like an eight-year-old.

  “I was hoping you’d be here,” Brett said finally.

  Robbie grabbed a couple of beers and handed them to a guy who’d ordered them.

  “You hate me,” Brett said.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “How come you wouldn’t talk to me?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I’ve been an asshole,” he said. “I want to make it up to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Someone ordered a martini and she went to fix it.

  Brett leaned against the bar. “Can we do something tomorrow? Maybe brunch?”

  She took several more orders and worked on filling them. Brett stood there watching her. “I’m sorry, Brett, but I need to work.”

  He handed her a small wrapped package.

  “What’s this?”

  “An apology gift.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Please, open it.”

  She ripped off the paper. It was a book about jewelry making that she’d admired in a bookstore shortly after they’d started dating. A surprisingly thoughtful gift.

  Brett was pulling on one of his ears, the shadow of his spiked hair falling across his forehead. They used to have such fun together. Did she really want to end things with him?

  “Thank you,” she said. “This was very nice of you.”

  “It’s okay? I was hoping you hadn’t gotten it for yourself.”

  “It’s great.”

  “So I’m forgiven?”

  Such a little boy.

  “Yes, Brett. You’re forgiven.”

  Mike was approaching from the restroom, smoothing his thin orange hair into its
rat tail.

  “So what are we having, Mike?” Brett picked up a stack of coasters and shuffled them. “A couple of martinis?”

  “Do you have Goose or just house brands?” Mister M asked Robbie as he sat down on one of the stools.

  “This is The Garage, Mike,” Brett said. “Not some shit hole.”

  Nice to see Brett stepping up to the plate.

  She fixed two Grey Goose martinis while Brett left to say hello to some people he knew. His usual frenetic energy had returned.

  Mike rested his elbow on the bar and picked up one of the flyers of Kate from the stack Robbie had left out the other night, as she had at the Fieldstone event. Mike probably thought she was blanketing all of South Beach with the flyers. And he’d be right.

  “Still haven’t found her?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “How long’s she been gone?”

  “About a week.” Robbie didn’t know why, but she felt uneasy sharing anything about her sister with this man.

  “That’s too bad,” Mike said. “My experience is if a kid doesn’t come home after forty-eight hours, she’s probably not coming back.”

  Robbie’s face heated up. “Well, I’m not sure what you base your experience on, Mike, but in this case I believe you’re wrong.”

  He smiled at her, his skin stretching in the wrong places. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Mike left cash on the bar and picked up the drinks. He called over to Brett, who was talking to some girls. “Let’s shoot some pool.”

  At around eleven, Robbie noticed Puck coming into the bar. He adjusted his glasses, then rubbed the stubble on his cheek as he took in the room. He was wearing his customary oversized sweatshirt, clumsy jeans, and Bud N’ Mary’s billed cap. His eyes fell on Robbie. He smiled slightly, and then went directly to the seat Mike had vacated.

  “Heineken?” Robbie asked, bringing over a beer.

  He nodded. His face was transformed into almost handsome when he smiled.

  “Thank you again for getting my bike fixed,” she said. “That was really sweet of you.”

  “My pleasure.” He put a twenty down.