Goodbye Forever

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  ‘Let me go in first,’ Richard said.

  ‘You can’t,’ she told him. ‘You’ve got to agree that a girl on her own just might have a better chance than two people walking in there tonight.’

  ‘But they can look out and see the car in the parking lot,’ he said.

  ‘Good point.’ She felt nervous again, and she started to feel the darkness closing around her. But that was nightmare stuff. This was as real as daylight, and lately Richard worried more than he should. ‘Why don’t you drive around?’ she said.

  ‘While you go in there alone?’

  ‘It’s a restaurant, Richard, and too small to be housing even one runaway. Besides, there’s a side road right over there.’

  ‘Looks like a driveway to me.’

  He might be right, but she wasn’t about to admit it. ‘Well, check it out. I’ll text if things get weird. Otherwise, give me fifteen, twenty minutes.’

  ‘I don’t like it, Kit.’

  ‘I like it better than my other destinations this far. Don’t you?’

  That got a smile out of him. ‘John Paul probably knows the cops out here. Think I ought to call him?’

  She opened the door and turned to meet his grin. ‘He’s not going to be happy that I didn’t wait for him to drive me. Don’t call him unless you have to.’

  He sighed in that way that meant he agreed with her even though he didn’t want to, and he pulled her in for a kiss. ‘I won’t be far away.’

  Kit watched his car leave the parking lot and realized he was right about potential danger. But how dangerous could this place be? She could count on Richard. She could count on John Paul. Kit opened the single door of the restaurant.

  As it closed behind her, she stepped into warmth and smelled a mixture of scents from heavy to sharp. Peppers, oil, heat. The dim lights cast shadows on the crudely plastered wall. The T-shaped restaurant ended at a long bar made out of wood so polished it seemed more suited to an upscale place. To Kit’s left, one couple sat at a side table. The bar was empty. As Kit approached it, an attractive older woman, her dark, clipped-back hair lightened by silver, entered from what must be a side kitchen.

  ‘Good evening, Miss.’ The woman glanced at the clock and back at her, taking her in as if they had met before. ‘We’ll be closing soon.’

  ‘That’s all right.’ Kit looked down at her hands, pretending fear, as if she didn’t dare to meet the woman’s eyes.

  A basket of chips and salsa appeared before her on the bar.

  ‘On the house. I made it fresh today.’

  Kit looked up at the woman’s face and knew the gesture had been too automatic to have been a first-time response to a hungry-looking kid.

  ‘Thank you, but are you sure? I don’t have any money.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ The woman glanced to the front door and then to the back. ‘You need to eat fast, though.’

  She motioned to one of the round leather stools, and Kit sat.

  The chips, tortillas cut into long slices and deep-fried, tasted as hopeful as the woman appeared to be. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. She’s about my age.’

  ‘I can’t help with that.’ The woman turned her back and headed into the kitchen. ‘I do what I can with food,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘That’s it.’

  ‘My friend’s name is Jessica.’

  ‘I don’t ask names.’ Yet the woman stopped on her way back from the kitchen.

  ‘You’ve never seen someone by that name in here?’

  She leaned against the counter. ‘You want some coffee? A soda, maybe?’

  ‘Thank you, but I want to hear about Jessica. You stopped when I mentioned her name. Please help me.’

  ‘Maybe I did see her. I can’t remember right now.’ The woman headed for the coffee pot, poured it into a turquoise-glazed mug, and handed it to Kit. ‘Drink this fast. We’re closed.’

  She went over to the door and, with a rattle of the blinds, turned around the sign in the window.

  As if taking it for a signal, the couple at the side table rose and left.

  ‘When was Jessica here?’ Kit asked, once they were alone.

  ‘I already told you, I’m not sure.’ The woman reached down, placed a towel on the counter, and began wiping it. ‘If I remembered everyone who passed through here, I wouldn’t have room in my head for how to make all this food. You drink your coffee, and then we’ll leave.’

  Kit looked down at the laminated menu. ‘It says here that you’re open until nine o’clock on Sundays.’

  ‘Not tonight.’ She poured the rest of the coffee into the sink behind her. ‘If you’re like the rest of them and don’t have a place to stay, there’s a homeless center about ten miles from here.’

  ‘I don’t want a homeless center,’ Kit said. ‘I just got out of one.’

  ‘These people seem OK. I have a card.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Kit said, but she took the business card anyway. ‘I just want to find Jessica. I have a photo of her.’

  ‘Don’t want to see it.’ She stared down at her towel and swept it over invisible crumbs. ‘If I start worrying about you kids, it will kill me.’

  Kit took out the photo of Jessica and the other two kids anyway. She placed it on the counter. ‘Please.’

  The woman glanced down at it and seemed to reel back. ‘How did you get this? Who are these children? Why are you looking for them?’

  ‘I think you know more than I do.’ The woman had said children. She recognized more than one of them.

  Kit touched Jessica’s face on the photo. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘She looks younger here, but not any happier.’

  ‘So you have seen her,’ Kit said.

  ‘How do I know you really want to help?’ The woman stepped back, eyes so hard they had to be covering something. ‘How do I know you don’t wish her harm?’

  ‘Look at me.’ Kit rose from the barstool. ‘Do you really think I would come here for any other reason than to find this girl?’

  ‘You’re very young. I don’t know what you would try.’

  ‘She’s my friend,’ Kit said, and felt as if she were telling the truth. ‘If I don’t find out where she is tonight, I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’ve got to find her.’ She glared at the woman, silently demanding the response she knew was there.

  ‘Probably she’s all right.’ She turned and began cleaning the spotless counter in exaggerated gestures.

  ‘What about the other kids?’ Kit said.

  ‘They may be all right too. I hope so.’

  ‘Because they’re together, aren’t they?’

  ‘That’s none of my business.’ She smoothed the towel over the edge of the stainless-steel sink behind the bar. ‘As you said, not everyone trusts the shelter. Besides, it is not my job to judge.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to judge,’ Kit said. ‘But Jessica shouldn’t be out here on her own, and I think you know where she is.’

  ‘I swear I do not.’ The woman glanced back at the door again. ‘You must leave now. I need to go home.’

  ‘You’re not hiding her?’ Kit asked.

  ‘Of course not. I can barely take care of my own. You do have to go, though. The fog here gets too thick to drive.’

  The front door swung open, and the guy who stepped inside filled the doorway and the room so completely that Kit felt a wave of claustrophobia.

  ‘Hey, Juanita. Why shutting down so early?’ The grin that spread across his face reflected innocent friendship along with something darker. ‘You know I’m meeting someone here tonight.’

  ‘The fog,’ the woman muttered. ‘I cannot stay open.’

  Then the guy’s gaze drifted to Kit. ‘Well, hello,’ he said, and walked over to where she sat. ‘Looking for some cheese enchiladas?’

  The words she had been waiting to hear.

  ‘Cheese enchiladas,’ she repeated, forcing the words out. ‘Yes, I’d love some.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be Angel, would you?
’

  Kit thought about lying but realized something was wrong. She needed time to figure it out.

  ‘No,’ she told the guy, ‘and I’m just leaving.’ She caught the look of relief on the woman’s face.

  ‘What’s your hurry?’ he asked.

  ‘The place is closed.’

  ‘Juanita won’t close until Angel gets here. ‘He reached into his pocket and took out a handful of cash. ‘Will you, Juanita?’

  Without answering or even looking at his money, the woman turned and hurried into the kitchen.

  ‘I can see now that you’re not Angel, although your hair’s the same,’ he said. ‘You’re prettier.’

  Kit tried to match up this guy’s features with the photograph, but nothing about him resembled the smiling little boy. This one must have been huge even as a child. With the hair cut close to his head, he would have passed for ordinary except for his mismatched eyes and goofy grin.

  ‘Who’s Angel?’ Kit asked.

  ‘Who are you?’

  Although most with his features would have been unattractive, maybe even freakish, he had a friendly voice and a way of smiling that reminded her of those dolls that were so ugly they were almost cute.

  ‘That’s not important.’ She glanced at him as if he were a co-conspirator and not someone who might have the answers she was seeking.

  ‘Cops looking for you?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably not. Probably no one is.’ Saying those words, even though she had created them to appease him, was surprisingly painful.

  The woman returned from the kitchen. ‘Please leave,’ she said. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘Juanita.’ The guy sat down on a stool. ‘Ten more minutes.’

  ‘Not ten more seconds.’ She lifted a phone from the counter as if it were a gun. ‘Don’t make me use this.’

  He stood and gave Kit a lopsided smile. ‘Nice to meet you, mystery girl. I’ll be back tomorrow night. What about you?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said. ‘Good luck finding Angel.’

  As soon as she heard the rattle of the shades as the door closed behind him, the woman drew closer to the counter. ‘Wait for a moment. Let him leave first.’ Kit wasn’t sure if her eyes held anger, fear, or both.

  ‘What can you tell me about him?’ she asked.

  ‘Big Ike?’ The woman shrugged, and her expression went as blank as the plaster wall behind her. ‘He tips well. That’s all I know.’

  ‘You must have known he was coming tonight.’

  ‘He comes most nights, even when it’s not to … He just likes the food.’

  ‘Yet you tried to close early and get me to leave before he showed up.’

  ‘Like I said, I worry about you kids too much.’

  Yellow headlights shone through the drawn blinds. Kit walked over to the door and peeked through. The outdoor lights, watery in the fog, shone on what she hoped was Richard’s car.

  ‘I’ve got to go now,’ Kit said. ‘Thank you for the coffee. And the chips.’

  The woman took the cup and rinsed it. ‘Be careful,’ she said. ‘Remember what I told you about the shelter.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Kit pulled her scarf so tightly that it scratched her neck. ‘Not until I find Jessica.’

  Then she got up and hoped Richard would be in the parking lot. When she stepped outside and saw the car, she ran for it.

  ‘What did you find out?’ he asked her.

  ‘I’ll tell you once we’re home,’ she said, and looked around to be sure no one was watching them.

  ‘Home.’ Richard’s expression reminded her of how he had looked at her years before when they had fallen in love. ‘I like that word.’

  TEN

  Angel hadn’t shown up the night before, and Ike went back for her as much to see the girl with the curly hair and curious eyes. He’d been surprised when she had glared right back at him as if to say nothing about him, including his size, scared her. The minute he spotted her that night, he realized that she had too much hair and too much confidence to be Angel. Kind of pretty, though. ‘The sign of a strong man is a strong woman,’ his dad used to say back before everything at home went to hell. But his dad used to go on, ‘And what’s wrong with a little argument now and then? It makes the sex better.’

  Sex was the last thing Ike should be thinking about right now. What he needed to do was pick up Angel if she was there, and only maybe flirt with the mystery girl if she showed up again. If she did, it might mean she liked him.

  Ike always looked inside a place before he got out of his truck. Funny that most people didn’t. Why would you want to go in somewhere when you had no idea what waited for you? He and Lucas had figured that out a long time ago. They had figured out a lot of things. If Lucas wanted to bring in Jessica, Ike could live with that. No way was she going to bitch-slap him with words, though, even if she had been a First Year.

  As far as Ike could tell through the slanted light of the window, only the Mexican woman and the curly-haired girl sat at the counter. So she did come back, and he’d bet it sure wasn’t for the free chips and salsa. The woman served the girl something in a cup. Hot chocolate. The girl lifted the cup to her lips and then turned around as if she could see him.

  He could recite chapter and verse every warning Lucas issued, but he took most of the cash out of the glove box. Nothing out here but vineyards and farms, but he’d still rather keep the money with him. Take no chances. That was the first rule. Besides, if anyone even thought about stealing from him, the truck couldn’t fight back the way he could. He opened the door and realized that the red plaid jacket over his T-shirt made him look like a lumberjack, but hey, some girls liked that type. Anyway, he shouldn’t be worrying about girls right now.

  The restaurant smelled and felt warm. Juanita, sad-faced as always, glanced up from behind the counter. In the moment she looked from her tired hands to his face, she reminded him of his mother.

  ‘Good to see you again.’ She left the mystery girl and came around to where he stood. ‘Hot tea?’

  ‘Gracias. That would be nice.’ Then a thought came to him. ‘Oh, wait. You wouldn’t have any hot chocolate, would you?’

  ‘Mexican hot chocolate with cayenne pepper and nutmeg? Coming right up.’

  ‘That’ll do.’ He had actually wanted it the way his granny fixed it – thick and creamy with melted marshmallows on top – but at the moment, he was more interested in the girl. She pretended she wasn’t listening to the conversation.

  ‘And some tamales?’ the woman asked. Hot chocolate or not, she was starting to get on his nerves.

  He settled on one of the stools at the counter, and the girl turned her head.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You again?’

  ‘As promised. Did you find your friend?’

  He ignored the question. ‘You like tamales?’ Just friendly conversation. Nothing wrong with that.

  ‘I love them. Tamales and cheese enchiladas.’ She glanced down at the counter.

  The cheese enchiladas could be a coincidence. Lucas should have come up with a better code – sardine sandwiches or something.

  ‘On me.’ He glanced over at one of three corner booths. He had some money. Why not? Jessica wasn’t the only one who could throw it around.

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Oh, come on. It’s just a tamale.’

  She shook her head, and he liked the way the dim light got tangled in her curls. ‘It’s never just a tamale.’

  ‘Well, it is this time.’ She shook her head again, and he thought about how that couldn’t be easy, as hungry as she must be. ‘I’ve been where you are,’ he said, lowering his voice.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ She took in the jacket Lucas had teased him about for washing after each use and then glanced down at his polished boots. It wasn’t the first time he was glad for what old Weaver called ‘the gift’ of OCPD.

  ‘I know I don’t look like it now, but I have been, and believe me, when someone offers you a no-s
trings meal, you should take it.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s no strings?’

  ‘Promise. You’ve got free will, haven’t you?’ Free will? Where the fuck had that come from?

  She seemed to think about it, but then the woman came back from the kitchen carrying a tray full of dishes that smelled so good he knew the girl would have followed him to hell for just one bite. If only he had known it could be this easy. Not that he would do anything. She was company, that’s all. Just company while he ate.

  The tamales were so velvety hot that Ike placed an order for the next day. That made the Mexican woman smile, and maybe that was his job right now – to bring happiness. Lucas would be cool with it. He liked it when Ike went out on his own and suggested changes.

  Once Juanita went back to the kitchen, Ike checked out the girl at close range this time. He’d thought about her all night, but her face seemed more ordinary now, and she was too clean to have done this runaway thing for long. From the looks of her, she had been on the street a few days, a week at the most.

  She placed her fork on the plate. ‘Thanks for the tamale. It’s been awhile.’

  ‘Have another one.’ He pointed his fork at the plate between them.

  ‘It’s more than enough. I couldn’t eat another bite.’

  ‘How’d you end up here?’ Lucas would have wanted him to speak in a demanding voice and to ask for her ID, but Ike asked the question slowly while pretending to be more interested in his food.

  ‘A shelter in Sacramento.’ She glanced down, as if embarrassed. Then she lifted her eyes which he still couldn’t label with just one color.

  His mind spun into them and out. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine. Some bitch attacked me at that shelter. Took my money. One of the guys mentioned this place.’ She seemed ready to disappear into the cheap worn leather of the booth. ‘I didn’t know why, but it’s not like I had anywhere else to go.’

  ‘And where will you head from here?’ he asked.

  She pushed away her now-clean plate. ‘Where do you think I should go?’

  He didn’t dare think about that question. ‘Somewhere safe. I’m not sure if there are any shelters in the area. There’s one for homeless families about ten miles away in the next town. Juanita, the lady who runs this place, gives out cards for it. She’ll have the address. That might be your best bet.’