“I heard she might be here.”
“Who told you that?”
“She did.”
“Well you heard wrong. Now how about leaving.” Annoyed was too mild a word for what I was feeling. Enough was enough. This guy could have been the Prince of Fucking Darkness, for all I cared. I just wanted him off my property.
“Are you sure she’s not here?”
“Positive. Who the hell are you anyway?”
He grinned. “Her boyfriend. Toon Town.”
I couldn’t help it. I had to ask. “Toon Town?”
“Yeah. I watch a lot of cartoons.”
Well, that was certainly reassuring. I took a second look at him. “You’re a little old for Amy, aren’t you?” It was hard to judge by the light of the street lamp, but the guy seemed as if he were in his early twenties, although that could have been the effect of the beard.
He shuffled his feet. His grin grew wider. “Girls used to be married by the time they were thirteen.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“She’s old enough to know what she likes.”
“No, she’s not.”
He stared at me. His eyes were a light, bleached-out greyish blue. His pupils were dilated. I realized he was on something. Great. Not only did Amy have bad taste in hair: she had bad taste in men, as well. Someone should really talk to her.
Toon Town made a wet noise with his mouth. “So you’re not gonna tell me where she is? I got something real important to discuss with her.”
“And I already told you: I don’t know where she is. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Zsa Zsa had begun to bark and scratch at the other side of the door. Our conversation must have woken her up.
He nodded towards the door. “You got a dog in there?”
I nodded.
“I like dogs.” He grinned again. Everytime I saw his smile, I liked it less. “Now you remember,” and he pointed a finger at me, “you see Amy, you tell her Toon Town is lookin’ for her.” Then he mumbled something to himself and walked away.
The man had an odd gait. He’d take six or seven steps forward and a small one to the side, then continue on. Everytime he stepped to the side, he’d make a fist and raise it into the air and shake his head, as if he were violently disagreeing with what someone standing next to him was saying. Obviously whatever Toon Town had taken hadn’t agreed with him. Finally he reached his car, a lime green Geo Tracker. I hadn’t seen it when I’d pulled in, because it was parked behind my neighbor’s conversion van.
Just for the hell of it, I made a note of the license number, as he drove away. Then I went inside my house. “A fine watchdog you are,” I told Zsa Zsa as she clawed my legs with her front paws.
I picked her up, and she licked my face. I laughed and took her out for a quick pee. Then I went upstairs. George had left a note on my pillow, telling me he’d give me a call when he got back into town. I put it on my nightstand, threw my clothes on the floor, and crawled into bed. A few seconds later I was in La La Land. I thought I’d dream about Murphy. But I didn’t. I dreamt about smoking a cigarette instead. I was sitting under a palm tree watching a boat bobbing out on the water. I had a rum and Coke in my left hand and a Camel in my right. I was just about to take a puff when the alarm rang.
Jesus. I leaned over and slammed the off button down with the side of my fist. Then I put my head back down on the pillow, closed my eyes, and tried to pick up where I’d left off. But it was too late. The dream was gone. I groaned. How long had it been? Four days. And I had to stay off of them for twenty-seven more days. My God. Why had I made the bet with George? What had I been thinking of? This torture was definitely not worth twenty-five dollars. What had I been looking to prove? That I had willpower? Who cared? But I knew I wouldn’t give in. My pride wouldn’t let me.
“I can do this,” I told Zsa Zsa.
She didn’t bother lifting her head off the pillow to reply. I guess she wasn’t that confident. Oh well. It was too late to brood about it now. I brooded about it anyway, while I took a shower and got dressed. Then because—as per usual I didn’t have any food in the house—I stopped at Nice ‘N’ Easy on the way to work and picked up coffee, three glazed doughnuts, and the Post Standard. A picture of Richmond stared back at me from the front page. He looked a lot better than he had when I saw him last. I scanned the article as I waited in line to pay. It didn’t tell me much I didn’t already know. “Police spokesperson, Millicent Rafferty,” it said, “reported an anonymous phone call which led officers to Mr. Richmond’s apartment, where his body was found. Foul play is suspected.” No shit. “Several leads are currently being pursued.”
I just hoped that none of them led to me. Then the article recapped Richmond’s life and gave some background info about the grieving family. That was it. Nothing else about the apartment. Or Amy. I gave the clerk five bucks and tried not to look at the packs of cigarettes, while I waited for my change. Then I went to work.
I got to the store a little before ten. I’d just opened up and was starting to clean out Amy’s ferret’s cage when a man strode in. He was wearing a wrinkled double-breasted charcoal grey suit, a red tie, and a light blue shirt. His hair was rumpled, and he had the kind of circles under his eyes you get from not sleeping for a couple of nights.
“I’m Charlie Richmond,” he announced, when he got up to the counter. “Dennis Richmond’s son.”
My stomach clenched. I wondered if he knew about last night’s expedition. I took a sip of coffee and waited to see what was coming.
He nodded at the copy of the Post Standard Mr. Bones was burrowing under. “So you’ve seen this morning’s paper. You know about my father.”
I relaxed a little. At least Charlie didn’t know I was the one who’d found his father’s body. I nodded. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. The expression had always struck me as inadequate, but I’d never been able to come up with a better one.
“Me too.” Now that I had a chance to look at him, I realized Charlie Richmond had his father’s mouth—red and fleshy—and his chin. His face was rounder, though, and his features were more symmetrical. He pointed to the ferret. “Is that Mr. Bones?”
I nodded. “Your mother doesn’t seem to want him.” And I put out my hand to keep the ferret from falling off the counter. Depth perception doesn’t seem to be one of their strengths.
“Stepmother,” Charlie corrected. “No. She doesn’t like the ferret at all. She wanted Amy to get rid of it. They got into a huge argument over it.”
“Is that unusual?”
“No. Amy was always fighting with Gerri and my dad. It made things very unpleasant.”
“I can imagine,” I murmurmed, having come from a similiar household myself.
Charlie nodded in the ferret’s direction. “So Amy just left him here?”
“She was in a hurry.” I picked Mr. Bones up and put him on my shoulder. He immediately ran down my arm and stuck his head up my sleeve. His nails scratched my skin as he worked his way in. They needed to be clipped.
Charlie Richmond leaned forward and fixed me with an earnest gaze. “I have to find her.”
I pulled the ferret out from my sleeve and returned him to his cage. “When she comes back, I’ll tell her you asked for her.”
Richmond fidgeted with his tie. “You know the police are looking for her?”
“They were in here already.”
“Well, now they have an APB out on her. Gerri says they think she had something to do with my father’s death.”
I thought about last night. “Maybe she does.”
“No she doesn’t.” Richmond’s voice rose, indignantly.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know her. Look,” Richmond said, “the girl’s a goddamned vegetarian for Christ sake. She’s practically a Buddhist. She wouldn’t kill a fly. Literally. She used to take them out of the house. I’m sorry, but there is no way in hell that kid would kill my father.”
“Sometimes even
Buddhists lose control,” I pointed out.
“Not like that.”
“Okay. Let’s suppose for the moment that what you say is true.” I took out a stick of gum, put it in my mouth, and tried not to think about how much I wanted to hold a cigarette in my hand. Maybe if I just held it and didn’t light it. “But why do you care?”
“I want to help her. She needs someone in her corner.”
“What about her mother?”
Charlie Richmond bit the inside of his cheek. “My stepmother and Amy don’t get along too well. As you’ve probably noticed.” He was silent for a moment, as he watched Mr. Bones attack the fur mouse I’d hung up for him.
“It’s kind of hard to miss, but what does all of this have to do with me?”
“Simple. I want to hire you to find her.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Me?”
“I’ve read about you. You’ve done this kind of work before, and you’ve seen Amy. You know what she’s like.”
I chose my next words with care. “I’ve seen her briefly—twice—but we haven’t had time for a heart-to-heart.”
“That’s better than nothing.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter. “Maybe so, but you still haven’t explained why you’re so interested in all of this.”
“I guess from the outside it would seem kind of odd.”
“You could say that.”
Charlie Richmond frowned. A deep furrow bisected his forehead. “Amy and I... we grew up together. We weren’t close... but we liked each other. We covered for each other when Gerri and my dad were on the warpath. They didn’t do anything terrible,” he quickly explained, catching my look. “But they weren’t very nice to us, either. You could say we were just your typical dysfunctional, blended American family.” He gave a bitter little smile and began fiddling with his tie again.
“And? ...” I prodded, when he didn’t say anything else.
“She’s like the family scapegoat. She always gets blamed for everything. It’s not fair.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Is she crazy?”
“No.”
“Then why does everyone say she is?”
“She had a bad acid trip and went into a depression, so my mother put her in Cedar View.”
“Expensive place,” I commented. Cedar View was where the upper and upper middle class kids went when they needed to detox.
“My family can afford it.” Charlie Richmond tugged on his collar to loosen it. “At least when she’s there, you know where she is. She’s not running around on the streets.”
“Okay. Now what happened when Amy came out?”
“Gerri told me she and my stepfather had a big fight, and Amy stormed out of the house.”
I interrupted. “According to the newspaper article I read, I thought Amy left after your father disappeared?”
Charlie frowned. “Gerri said she came back the day before Dad disappeared. She and Dad had another fight at breakfast.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know. Gerri didn’t hear. Dennis told her they’d discuss it over dinner, but he never came home.”
“And Amy took off the next day. I can see why the police would want to talk to her.” Charlie looked unhappy. “Did your stepmother report Amy’s other disappearances?”
“No. There was no point. She’s been doing this kind of stuff for the past year, year and a half. I think everyone has given up on her. It’s just easier. There are only so many times you can go driving through the streets at three o’clock in the morning.” He ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly. It was thinner than his father’s. “God, all of this has been so awful. I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is that Amy needs help. Will you look for her?”
I said yes. I’d been planning to do it anyway. Working for Charlie Richmond might make the task easier.
“Good.” He smiled his tight little smile. “How much do you charge?”
“Nothing. I don’t have a license.” Even if I had, I wouldn’t have taken money from him. Despite what he’d said, I wasn’t sure enough of his motives to want to be beholden to him. “If things work out you can make a donation to the Humane Society.”
“No problem.”
“I didn’t think it would be. But there is something else.”
Charlie Richmond cocked his head and waited.
“When I find Amy, I’m going to tell her that you want to meet with her. But if she doesn’t want to, I’m not going to force her, and I’m not going to tell you where she is.”
Richmond’s face flushed. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I don’t know you.”
He smacked the counter with the flat of his hand. The ferret squeaked in alarm. “What the hell do you think I’m going to do?” he demanded.
I gripped the edge of the counter and leaned forward. “Look, if you don’t like my conditions, go find someone else.”
I watched Richmond make tiny opening and closing motions with his lips, while he decided what to do. “I guess I can live with them,” he finally conceded.
“Good.” I reached for the notebook and pen sitting by the side of the register. “I want you to tell me everything you can about Amy.”
“Everything?” He didn’t sound happy at the idea, but then I had the impression he wasn’t happy about most things.
I shrugged. “It’s up to you. Only I think it’s fair to warn you that the more I know about her, the easier she’ll be to find.”
Charlie Richmond talked for the next half an hour. Once he got started, he had a lot to say. Most of it had to do with drugs and alcohol. It seemed as if Amy had been keeping close company with both of them.
Chapter 7
I was reading over my notes from my interview with Charles Richmond when Manuel walked in the door. He was wearing a black Raiders baseball hat, a faded black and red checked shirt, and black, baggy pants. Real baggy. As in the crotch of his pants hung down to just above his knees. He was not a thing of sartorial beauty. Except, perhaps, to himself.
“You got a minute?” he asked, as he pimp-rolled his way over to the counter.
I sighed and closed my notebook. “What do you want?”
“Who says I want anything?”
“Because you always do.”
“For your information I was gonna do you a favor. See, I got someone over on Oak Street that wants to sell his pit vipers...”
“And you thought you’d give me first crack?”
He pulled his pants up. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Manuel, do you want a lift to the North Side?”
He put on an injured look. “I’m just trying to help you out.”
“Right.” In my experience the only person that ever benefitted from Manuel’s favors was Manuel. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a little after eleven. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I got the day off.”
And I was going to win the lottery tomorrow and retire to Maui. “What if I called your mother and asked?”
“She ain’t home.”
“How about your social worker?” I knew I was doing knee jerk responsible adult but I couldn’t help myself. Manuel was currently on probation, after having broken into one car too many. According to the court, he was supposed to be in school.
“She’s probably out.”
I reached for the phone. “Let’s find out.”
He shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“I should.” But I put my hand down. What was the point? Nothing was going to happen if I made the call. There wasn’t enough money or personnel to enforce what the courts mandated. I knew it and, more importantly, so did Manuel.
He grinned. He had a nice smile. It would be even nicer if his mother had the money to send him to an orthodontist. “I knew you wouldn’t. You and me are buds, right?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I told him. But Manuel just kept on grinning because he knew I was lying. He and I had a history. We’d gotten t
o know each other in the hospital when we were both recuperating. The same person had tried to kill us both. Manuel might be a punk, but he was my punk.
“What’s that? Some kind of rat?” He pointed to Mr. Bones. I glanced over at the ferret. He was standing on his hind legs with his nose pressed to the glass, watching Manuel approach.
I laughed. “No. It’s a ferret.”
“It looks like a rat.”
“It belongs to the mink family. Rodents have long front teeth that constantly grow. Ferrets don’t.”
“Whatever. I heard they bite real bad.”
“Not usually. Do you want to hold him?”
“Naw.” He changed the subject. “So what’s happening?”
I told him about Amy. Actually, his coming in saved me a call. Manuel was one of my sources. Given his age, he knew a surprising number of people.
“What’s she look like?” he asked, when I was done.
“She’s got blue hair and a nose ring. She wears black eye makeup and white lipstick. Does a lot of drugs.”
“You mean she’s a burn-out.”
“If that’s what you want to call her. Have you seen her?”
“Maybe.” A cagey look crept across his face. “Do I get a finder’s fee?”
“Yeah. I don’t turn you in to your probation officer.”
He snorted. “Okay. Be like that.”
“I intend to. Now, where did you spot her?”
Manuel took off his hat and began bending in the sides of the brim.
It was a riveting performance, but it began to pall after about thirty seconds. “So?” I said, after another ten seconds or so had gone by. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
Manuel stopped what he was doing and looked up. “I can’t tell you, I got to show you, ’cause you ain’t gonna find this place by yourself.”
“Why not?”
“ ’Cause it’s out of the way. You still carrying your box cutter?”
I patted my front pocket. “Why? Am I going to need it?”
“Probably not.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“You just never know who’s going to be there.”
“There?”
“In the place.”
The Scent of Murder Page 5
