by M. Z. Kelly
“Have you found them?” she asked, looking up from the phone.
I shook my head. “I don’t suppose Sissy’s texted or called you?”
“Not since that night…” She exhaled. “…when everything happened.”
“The night Derek was killed?” I asked. She nodded. “What did Sissy tell you?”
“She just texted me that Maddie was in trouble and that she and Clara were going to help her. I heard some rumors later that Derek tried to rape Maddie.”
I asked her if she still had Sissy’s text and she showed it to me, confirming what she’d told us.
“Did you know Derek?” Roth asked after I gave her phone back. His voice was soft, encouraging Sissy’s friend to tell us what she knew.
She shook her head. “No but I tried to warn Maddie about him.”
“Was Maddie also a friend of yours?” She nodded. “What did you tell Maddie about Derek?”
“Just that I heard he was a user. She didn’t believe me.”
“It sounds like Maddie was a little hard headed,” I said.
“She wasn’t…very happy at home.” She put her phone down, brushed a hand through her hair. “I think she just wanted high school to be over.”
“What about Sissy and Clara? Was there anyone causing trouble for them?”
“Not that I know about. Maybe…”
I waited but she didn’t go on. “Maybe what, Jenna?”
She sighed. “I guess you could talk to Josh.”
“Who?”
“Sissy’s boyfriend. Maybe she told him something.”
I exchanged glances with Roth. This was the first I’d heard about Sissy having a boyfriend. “Does Josh go to school here?” I asked.
“He graduated a couple of years ago. I think he’s got a job in town…I’m not sure.”
“Do you know his last name?” Roth asked.
“I think it’s Robertson or Robinson…something like that.”
“Does Sissy’s mom know about Josh?” I asked.
Jenna shook her head. “Sissy wanted to keep it a secret. Her mom didn’t want her dating.”
***
Roth and I were in the car headed back to his funeral home after the interview when a thought occurred to me. “The girls, Sissy and her friends,” I said to him. “After they were arrested where were they held.”
“There’s a small detention center here in Avalon,” Roth said. “It’s really just a holding facility. Minors that are detained for further court proceedings are transferred to the mainland.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”
“Let’s leave scratching out of this. Can you call the detention center, try and find out if anyone there roomed with the girls? Maybe one of them confided something to someone.”
“Consider yourself scratched,” Roth said, his trademark lecherous grin finding his lips.
I glanced at him before we pulled to the curb in front of Clowney’s. “I’m afraid to ask but what do you want in return?”
He rubbed his jaw, his eyes widening as he apparently decided on something. “Just a little favor from you and your friend, Natalie. I’ll give you all the details later.” He glanced over at the funeral home, the broken window. “I’m in a bit of a hurry to settle a debt.”
I sighed. “Okay. I hope no one breaks your legs.”
Roth glanced back at Bernie before he got out of my car and said, “I knew she’d eventually come around.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On my way to the station I decided to stop by the Stardust and ask Mo’s sister about Sissy having a boyfriend. Bernie and I found Natalie chatting it up with Morty in the plaza. My friend had a history of dating older men, much older in fact, and I hoped she wasn’t agreeing to anything she’d later regret.
“Morty’s gonna give me some acting lessons,” Natalie said when Bernie and I came over. “He’s even got some connections back in Hollywood. He’s gonna set me up.”
Morty puffed invisible smoke, raised his eyebrows in a way that reminded me of Gracho Marx. “The girl’s got a lot of natural talent.” His gaze wandered over to Natalie’s talent, before looking back at me. “She just needs a little work to refine what God gave her.” He looked back at Natalie. “I’ve got a wine cellar in my apartment, sweetheart. We can celebrate after your lesson.”
“Perfect,” Natalie said, clapping her hands.
I turned and saw that Loretta Swanson had slithered up behind us like a serpent with gas closing in on a rat. “I already have plans for Morty this evening,” she said, shooting daggers at Natalie.
“No worries,” Natalie said. She looked at Morty. “I’ve got a date tonight anyway. We can get together tomorrow.”
I pulled Natalie away as the farting serpent wrapped herself around Morty. Maybe she was part boa constrictor. “So who’s the date with?” I asked when I got her alone.
“Tom Kincaid is taking me to Descanso’s. It’s supposed to be one of the best restaurants on the island.”
“Just take it slow and easy,” I said, remembering what Peter Roth had said about the attorney. “By the way, could you do me a little favor?” I went on to explain about Roth wanting a favor from the both of us and she agreed to help out. “I don’t know exactly what he has in mind, but knowing Roth it probably involves getting together with him for drinks.”
Natalie tilted her head, smiled. “I think he’s got the hots for you, Kate. He is kinda cute.”
“Yes, in a juvenile delinquent kind of way,” I agreed.
After chatting with Natalie for another ten minutes, Bernie and I went up and checked on Mo and her sister. Roma was sitting in a chair in her room with a compress on her forehead. Without her yellow dress and feathers she no longer reminded me of Big Bird. Now, she just looked like a woman who’d aged ten years in the last few days.
“I need to ask you something,” I said to her after I’d told her we were still looking for her daughter. “Did Sissy ever mention having a boyfriend?”
“What?” Roma sat forward, her brow furrowing. I had the impression that she thought I’d accused her daughter of prostitution. “Sissy didn’t date. She might have had a few friends who were boys at school but we had a rule about no serious relationships until she was older and she didn’t break it.”
“I see,” I said, treading lightly. “Did she ever mention having a friend named Josh?”
Roma shook her head. “What’s this about?”
Mo came over. “If you know something, Kate, you need to level with us. We got to get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
I sighed, deciding I had no choice but to tell them where I got the information. “One of Sissy’s friends at school, a girl named Jenna Washington, said that Sissy was seeing a boy named Josh. She thought his last name might be Robinson or Robertson.”
Roma let out a breath, moaned, and leaned back in her chair. “My baby didn’t have no boyfriend, period.” Her big shoulders slumped and she began sobbing. “You gotta find her. She’s my whole world.
***
After Bernie and I got to the station, Buck and I went by Aster’s office again, finding it was closed. Quinton and Lucia were still not answering our calls. Out of frustration and the case going nowhere fast, I suggested that we attend Aster’s funeral that was set for tomorrow morning and try and talk to the attorney’s former employees. I then filled Buck in on what I learned from Jenna Washington.
“She said Sissy had a boyfriend, Josh Robinson or Robertson. Her mother had a fit when I mentioned it, said Sissy didn’t date.”
Buck looked over at me as he drove. “Wouldn’t be the first time a teenage kid did something behind her mama’s back. Remind me to tell you about growing up in Laredo one of these days.”
“Let me guess. You rode up on your horse, roped a girl in her front yard, and carried her off.”
He laughed. “How’d you know?”
I went back to Sissy. “Let’s
see if we can find this Josh kid. Maybe he knows something.” I saw that we were pulling to the curb in front of a small older home. “What gives?”
He motioned to the house. “Ben Howard’s place. Thought we’d take a minute and see how my ex-partner’s adjusting to retirement.”
We met with Howard on his patio, overlooking a rose garden that he told us was one of his retirement projects. As we chatted I learned that Howard’s wife had passed away a couple of years ago. He lived alone with an old basset hound named, Harry. Bernie and his new friend sniffed and trotted through the grass as we talked.
“Heard about the shooting, the girls,” Howard said. He was probably close to sixty with short brown hair and a heavy brow set over dark eyes that made him look perpetually sad. He was heavyset in the way some older men have, carrying much of the weight around his belly. He made me think of my partner Charlie Winkler, who had also recently retired. The last I’d heard, Charlie had moved to Idaho with his girlfriend.
“Kate’s helping out until I get a new partner,” Buck explained, setting his Stetson on the patio table. “Spencer and Baxter also caught the case with us.”
Howard looked over at me and frowned. “I call those two Tweedledee and Tweedledumb.”
I smiled, deciding that I already liked Ben Howard. “I’m just not sure which one is the dumb.”
“What can you tell us about Clay Aster?” Buck asked. “So far, we haven’t run across anyone who liked the guy.”
“Add me to the list.” Howard took a moment, drawing in a heavy breath. “I worked a couple of big cases where Aster was the defense attorney a few years back. Not that I ever met an attorney I had any use for, but Aster was one of those guys who got himself a lawbotomy when he got his law degree—they surgically removed any ethics from his brain.”
Ben Howard was my kind of guy. “Any thoughts on who might have wanted him dead?
He inhaled, shrugged. “Hard to say. I’m sure he had his enemies.” Howard paused, his gaze drifting off as he tugged on a big earlobe. He finally looked back at me. “Back in the 1990’s Aster rep’d a lot of guys with The League. Maybe it’s worth checking out.”
“The motorcycle club?” Buck asked.
Howard nodded. “If one of their members got a DUI or into a fight, Clay Aster always seemed to be the defense attorney. Maybe he had some kind of retainer with the club. Don’t know.”
“That’s interesting,” I said. “The courthouse shooter escaped through a back entrance, ran through a parking lot, and hopped on the back of someone’s motorcycle.”
Howard lifted his big shoulders again, released them. “Maybe somebody wasn’t happy with the way he handled their case. Hard to say.”
We chatted a few minutes longer before Buck pulled a present out of a bag he’d brought with him. “Just a little something,” he said handing it over to his former partner.
“You shouldn’t have, Buck.” I saw Howard’s eyes misting over.
He unwrapped the present and in a moment was holding up a fistful of flies for fishing. “Man, I can use a couple of these next month. Going up the Smith River for a few days.”
Buck and his partner exchanged hugs before we left. It was one of those long hugs that I’d seen sons and fathers do when they’re leaving one another for a long time. It brought a tear to my eye.
On the way to the car, I said, “I like your ex-partner, Buck. He’s a good guy.”
He looked over at me and brushed a tear from his own eye. There was something touching in the way he made no effort to hide his feelings. “He’s like a father to me. Gonna miss him.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“It’s getting a little cold out here.”
Grace turns, hearing the young man’s voice. She dosed off sometime after dark and didn’t think anyone was around.
“Do you need a blanket, or anything?” he asks.
Grace hugs her sides. “I’m okay, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” he says. “My name is Joey. I’ll be over there.” Grace sees him pointing to the beach a few yards from where she sits. “I’ve got some food, sandwiches, chips, and sodas that you’re welcome to if you’re hungry.”
Grace watches as he walks away. He looks like he’s a few years older than her with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He seems nice, not like the men who stole her belongings. She thinks about his offer. While she’s hungry she decides it’s not worth the risk.
She closes her eyes, thinking about the numbers that repeat themselves. There’s something about the way they dance through her head that’s calm and soothing. About an hour later, she finds herself dosing off again.
“You still here.” The voice sounds familiar as her eyes snap open. It’s the man, the one who helped steal her backpack. He sits down next to her, runs a rough hand over her cheek. “Maybe we’re meant to be together, sweetheart.”
Grace jumps up, starts moving away. He comes after her, grabs her by the arm and twists her around until she’s inches from his angry face. His breath is sour and smells like rotting teeth. “You’re not going anywhere. You and me…”
“Leave her alone.” It’s the boy, the one named, Joey. He’s coming out of the darkness, his eyes dark with fury. Grace hears the anger in his voice. “I mean it. Leave now.”
“Who are you, little man?”
“Believe me, you don’t want to find out.”
Grace watches as the man who helped steal her belongings hesitates. He begins cursing and walking away, but he also says something about coming back.
When he’s finally gone, she takes a step toward Joey. “Thank-you. He was really scaring me.”
“It’s not safe for you to be out her alone.” He motions to the place where he’s been sleeping. “Come join me. I promise I won’t bite.”
Grace brushes a hand through her hair and exhales. She’s not sure what to do. She looks over in the direction of the man who’s walking away. He’s on the street but glances back in her direction, mumbling something. She turns back to Joey. “Okay. Thanks.”
When Grace reaches the place where Joey is camped, she sees that he has a sleeping bag and a blanket. “Here, wrap yourself up,” Joey says, handing her the blanket. “It’s surprising how the nights can get so cold, even in summer.”
She takes the blanket, covers her shoulders, and sees that Joey is fixing her a plate with a sandwich and some chips. He hands it over with a soda. She takes the offering and sits down.
“What’s your name? Joey asks.
“Grace.”
He smiles. “Just Grace?”
She takes a sip of her soda, then says, “Grace Breslin.”
“Hello Grace Breslin.” He takes a seat beside her and smiles. “Why did you come into my life?”
Grace hesitates, unsure how to answer. “I’m not sure. I…I was in a group home and had to leave.”
She sees him nodding, his dark eyes shining in the moonlight. “It’s okay, Grace. You’re safe with me.”
She turns away from him, letting her eyes drift up to the stars. There’s no moon tonight and the stars everywhere.
“It’s pretty amazing,” he says. She sees that he’s now also looking at the stars. “Sometimes the sky makes me feel kind of small.”
She smiles. “I know what you mean.” Her gaze drifts up again. “It’s so amazing.”
“Just like you, Grace.”
She finds his eyes again. Even though it’s dark she thinks he can see her blushing. “No. I’m just…a girl.”
“A beautiful girl.”
Grace is sure her cheeks are scarlet now. She has no idea what to say. Her gaze drifts back up to the heavens and she feels Joey coming closer to her. She realizes that he’s holding her hand. It feels nice, maybe more than nice.
“You’re safe now,” Joey says. “It’s okay to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
Grace is too excited to sleep now. She thinks about Joey. Maybe he will be her first real boyfriend. They can live together and take care of each o
ther.
Grace holds onto Joey’s hand and that thought…
What’s happening?
She realizes her mind is starting to fog. She tries to concentrate on numbers but it’s no use. She feels lightheaded, unable to concentrate. She turns, the soda slipping from her hand as she looks over at Joey. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion.
“I…I feel…stran…” She’s unable to continue, the words not forming.
Joey’s closer now but he’s different than before, somehow changed. His eyes drill into her as she hears his words. “Don’t fight it, Grace. Just relax and let yourself go.”
Grace falls over, unable to control her muscles. The last thing she sees is Joey bringing something up. With the last glimmer of consciousness, she realizes it’s a pillowcase. He’s covering her head.
The world is suddenly extinguished. The girl who once soared through the universe is now alone in a place without stars or light or sound.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Clay Aster’s funeral was a lengthy affair in a chapel overlooking the city, complete with tributes from his closest friends and colleagues. Even Hal Quinton surfaced and gave a brief eulogy, praising his former boss for his legal expertise and kindness to him over the years.
“What bullshit,” I said to Buck, as Quinton finished the tribute.
We watched as Aster’s legal assistant took a seat next to Carly Lucia who wore a short black dress and a dark veil. I decided that she was the perfect image of a slut in mourning.
After the services ended, we cut Quinton and Lucia off as they headed for their cars. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you both,” Buck said. “Left about a half-dozen messages.”
“We’ve been in mourning,” Quinton said. “It’s been a difficult few days as you can imagine.” They both pushed past us, began walking away.
