5 Highball Exit (13 page)

CHAPTER 28

There’s a big secret that people in the service industry all know. If you really want to dig up the dirt on someone, ask the person who changes their sheets and does their wash. If you want to spy, ask the person who empties their trash and tidies their desk. Never mind their friends. They only know what they’re meant to hear; it’s the people in the service industry who have all the good stuff. I knew a guy working in a bar on Siesta Key who brags he’s got the dirt on everyone of note living in the county.

My run in with Cal and Ryan had left me trembling. While I hoped I’d seen the last of them, experience said there was more to come. I needed to know all I could about them, needed to know how to protect myself. I headed for the Clam Shack to see Sammy.

“Holy jumping Judas, be still my aching heart.” Sammy Defino spread his arms wide in welcome. “My dreams have come true at last.”

“Now don’t go getting my hopes up, Sammy, you know Ilsa won’t let you out at night.” I slid up onto a barstool and dropped my shoulder bag on another one.

He screwed his face up into mock misery. “It’s true. She’s never been the understanding type.”

We shared a laugh and commiserated on business before I asked if he knew Ryan Vachess.

Sammy threw his arms in the air. “Christ, don’t go fucking with that psycho.”

“I don’t want anything to do with him, far from it.”

“Then why are you asking?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Those brothers are pond scum, dangerous and nasty guys, and that Ryan is one sick freak.”

Sammy glanced at a couple of men in suits further down the bar and bent closer to me, whispering, “People they don’t like disappear.”

“I just want to keep him away from me and I need any information I can get on how to do that.”

“Then go out to St. Armand’s and talk to Rob McCabe. His sister got mixed up with Vachess and was never seen again.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” I slid off the stool. “Why don’t you and Ilsa come down on your night off and I’ll treat you to a meal.”

“Ah, Sherri, I’d love to, but Ilsa won’t let me near you since I told her you were the girl who taught me to French kiss.”

“Jesus, Sammy, she can’t hold that against me. I did my best to teach you but I can’t help it if you’re a slow learner.”

Keys stretch along the west coast of Florida like the backbone of some giant beast rising out of the gulf. Back in the
1920
s, John Ringling, the circus guy, bought a group of those keys and today the hottest real estate in all Florida is on those islands.

I took the John Ringling Causeway over Sarasota Bay to Lido Key, famous for its white sand, as fine as sugar.

St. Armand’s Circle, where Rob McCabe owned a deli, is the jewel in the crown of Lido Key. Parking on St. Armand’s is a dog-eatdog type of situation with cars going around and around the loop, waiting for a space to open up and blocking traffic when someone is spotted who looks like he might be leaving. The driver parks in the middle of traffic with his blinker on, ignoring the honks of cars jamming up behind him, while a shopper puts things in the trunk. Most times he’s disappointed and the whole thing starts over again, like motorized musical chairs.

I got lucky and snagged a parking spot on the street nearly in front of the deli.

The half-dozen tables outside the McCabe Bakery & Deli were all filled with people sharing gossip and coffee. A long line of waiting customers blocked the door and glared at me as I slipped by them. Inside, the display cases were filled with cheesecakes and pastries, a choice of a dozen salads, and any kind of sandwich you could ever dream up.

There was only one man behind the counter. He was taking orders and slapping sandwiches together without a smile or a word for his customers, like a man who hadn’t had a good day in a long time. In his late thirties, he had thinning, sand-colored hair and two deep vertical furrows between his eyebrows.

When there was a break in the action I asked him if he was Rob McCabe. He nodded and I told him who I was and why I was there.

Color came into his cheeks when he heard Ryan Vachess’s name. He stood straighter and his jaw hardened. “Follow me.” He pulled off his white-bibbed apron and threw it from him and then he plunged through a curtained exit without waiting for me.

I went to the end of the deli case and slipped behind the counter saying, “Excuse me,” to two women who stopped serving and gave me curious looks. I followed Rob through a tiny storage room and out to the alley where the air smelled of the hot pavement and the garbage in the dumpsters.

I was barely outside when Rob McCabe turned on me, his face contorted with rage and hatred. “That bastard. You’re crazy if you have anything to do with him.”

I stepped away. “Look, I just want to know how to protect myself from this guy.”

“Shoot him would be my suggestion.” He pulled a package of cigarettes out of his breast pocket. “Why do you want to know about Vachess?”

I told him about Holly and then I added, “Now tell me how you know him.”

“Chloe was my half-sister.” He dragged smoke deep into his lungs. “Two years ago, when she was eighteen and just out of high school and full of beans, she met Ryan Vachess.” He dragged hungrily on the cigarette and then dropped the butt on the pavement, toeing it out even as his hand reached for another one. “Within a month she was living with him.”

“The last time I saw her she was with Vachess outside a dance club in Tampa and she was high as a kite on something. I tried to drag her into my car. I got arrested and I never saw her again.” He hunched his shoulders and stubbed the pavement with the toe of his shoe.

“I went to the police. Nothing ever came of it. They said she was an adult and could do as she wanted. The police listed her as a runaway but honest to god she wouldn’t have gone away from us and never gotten in touch. It wasn’t like that; we were a good family. It nearly killed my dad and stepmother.” He wrinkled his face, holding back his feelings.

“They’re still waiting for her to walk through the door but I know she’s dead.”

Sorry is too small a word for something like that, so I didn’t offer it. “I’ve tried the police, put up flyers, attempted to track Chloeon the Internet, and none of it was worth rat shit. It’s not knowing, that’s the worst. A couple of times a week I have to watch that bastard walking past the deli, going to lunch down at the Cuban restaurant with another young fool, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

A seagull clattered onto the closed top of a dumpster, walked across the lid and then rose screeching into the air when Rob waved his arm at it.

“The only thing that keeps me from killing the bastard is the fact that my parents need me. I’m all they’ve got left. They couldn’t stand to lose me too.”

A delivery van started down the alley and we stepped back inside to get out of its way.

“Did you know Ryan is using?”

“He’s more than using. He’s the biggest dealer in town. Painkillers, party drugs, whatever the market wants. A cop told me he’s got people cooking meth for him up and down the gulf coast. Seems they can make meth in the back of vans now and just keep moving from place to place.”

My chest constricted in panic. “He’s worse than I thought.”

“The Vachess brothers deal in women and drugs and they havemoney and connections. They’re dangerous,” Rob said. “You be careful.”

“Trust me, I intend to be.”

“If you hear anything about our Chloe, will you let me know?”

“Of course, but it’s unlikely to happen.”

“I know, but I have to ask. Here . . .” Rob went to a wooden desk, shoved up against boxes of paper napkins. He opened a manila envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. He held it out to me.

I looked down at a picture of a laughing young woman. Under it was her information and Rob McCabe’s name and telephone number. I wondered where he was going to get the fifty-thousand-dollar reward he was offering.

“Just in case . . .” He couldn’t finish.

I guess he still had hope despite what he’d said.

CHAPTER 29

Aunt Kay was waiting out in front of the hospital when I pulled up. It must have been a hundred and twenty degrees on the concrete. She was sweating like a cold glass of beer beside a hot grill, but there she stood.

“Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“I didn’t know you were going to be so late, did I?” The curb gave her enough height to heft her behind onto the seat without my help, but the exertion left her breathless.

She didn’t ask about my time with Bernice. Imagine that. Instead she said, “We’re going over to see Marnie Mitchell. I called her while I was hanging around waiting for you. She’s over on Lime.”

As I waited for a delivery truck to pull out in front of me I said, “What was in that note Holly left behind?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Curious. Maybe there’s something in it that will tell us where to look for Angel.”

“No, there wasn’t anything that would help.”

“So how come you don’t want to tell me what it said?”

“Don’t go making a big deal of it.”

“I think you’re the one that’s making it a big deal, turning it into a mystery. Just tell me.”

Aunt Kay sighed. “All right.” But it took her a while to get the words out. “The note said,
‘
because my Angel is gone and I can’t live without my Angel. I have no home and no one to look after me. I have nothing left. This is the only way.’”

“And you thought . . .” But, I couldn’t put it into words what she thought might have happened to Angel. Aunt Kay nodded. “I think Angel might be dead.”

A car honked and I jerked the truck back into my own lane. “She said Angel was gone.” The words were almost whispered, asif to say her fears out loud would make them true. “I want to know for sure if Angel is dead and if she is, I want to know why.”

I could hardly take in what Aunt Kay was saying. “Do you think . . . ?” I took a deep breath and started over. “What do you think happened?”

“It’s just that . . .” She couldn’t go on. “Why didn’t Marnie Mitchell know about the baby?”

“If Holly gave up her baby for adoption, she wouldn’t tell anyone, would she?”

“I hope you’re right.” She sighed. “Holly was never strong.”

“Can you remember exactly what the note said?”

She made a noise of disgust. “I’m not likely to forget it, am I?”

I had ample opportunity to know about Aunt Kay’s amazing memory. In grade seven, she’d caught me out in a forged note from my mother. She knew the handwriting of every parent and every teacher. No one fooled her. The note had to be written by Holly or been a damn good copy or Aunt Kay would know.

I pulled into a parking space along the street and got an old envelope out of the glove compartment and handed it to her along with a pencil. “Write it down.”

When she was finished she handed me the note. Despite his confidence, I thought Dan might have made a mistake but what had bothered me about Dan’s copy of Holly’s suicide note was there on Aunt Kay’s—the same strange opening. Why? I stuffed it in my bag so I could compare them. “You must have a reason for thinking Angel is dead.”

“Holly’s note was filled with such despair.” Aunt Kay rubbed her forehead. “Something awful happened to her and Angel being dead makes as much sense as Holly killing herself.”

“Well, I think Angel is somewhere safe and I’m going to find her.” I pulled around a semi making a turn. “Holly wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Angel. If Holly didn’t care she would have let the Hunts adopt her baby.”

“Yes, that’s true, isn’t it?” For a moment she seemed all hopeful, but that was wiped away by her next words. “But what would Holly do if her mind was disturbed? And it must have been unbalanced for her to kill herself.”

“Look, Holly was a sweet person, not too . . . well, sensible, but kind and good.”

“That’s the Holly you knew.”

I glanced over at Aunt Kay. There were things about Holly, secrets that she wasn’t going to tell, that were coloring her view of events.

“How do you explain the Holly that became a sex worker?” she said. “I would have thought she’d never have done anything like that.”

Aunt Kay turned to me, her mouth open to continue her argument. Instead, she gave a soft, “Oh,” and then she asked, “Is that what you wore to your lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting choice.” I didn’t answer.

She turned away and said, “Take the next left and we can cut across on Harvard.”

“I know how to get there.”

“Yes, dear, of course you do.”

“Ah, the asshole thing again.”

“What?”

“Dear—it’s what you call people instead of calling them an asshole like I would.”

She slapped her knees and laughed, but she didn’t disagree with me.

“When I called Marnie Mitchell, I asked about Holly’s friends from high school but she didn’t seem to know any. I asked her to write down any names she remembered so we could get in touch with them for Holly’s memorial.”

“Holly’s memorial?”

“Didn’t I mention that?”

I turned onto Lime and she said, “I know you said we should stay away from that escort service, but I think you have to go back and talk to Mr. Vachess again.”

“No way. Some guys pretend to be tough, but Cal Vachess is the real deal. He doesn’t carry that gun just for show and I’m pretty sure that if he wanted you crippled he knows just the guys to do it for him. You don’t survive in the business he’s in if you aren’t prepared to play rough. Forget him.”

“But how will we find out about Holly?” I hated the pain and defeat in her voice.

“I doubt he knows anything, and even if he did, he wouldn’t tell us. He’s out of our league. Let’s just leave it at that and hope we never meet up with him again.”

“If he doesn’t know anything about Holly or Angel, why was he interested enough to go to the Sunset last night?”

“I don’t know, and trust me I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. All I know is that I want him to go away and forget he knows my name. Forget he knows where to find me.”

“Oh dear, I guess I shouldn’t have called him.”

While I was screaming, “You did what?” at Aunt Kay, I nearly drove into the back of a garbage truck. When things settled down and my heart rate was almost normal, I said, “Say that again.”

“I called him.”

“Shit. Why?”

“Well, you took so long to come back and the payphone was right there. After I talked to Marnie I just thought I’d see if he’d tell me anything more than he told you. Holly worked for him months ago when she met Gary Hunt, and then Dan found a call from the escort service on her phone from Saturday. What was she doing in between? Was she still working for them? It doesn’t make sense.”

“What did Vachess say?”

“He wasn’t there. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Did you leave your name and number?”

“Yes.”

I blew out a long breath, trying to think it through. “What exactly did you say? Did you mention me?”

She nodded. Watching me closely, she said, “I told him I was your aunt and that I had some more questions about Holly. I guess I shouldn’t have called.”

Did Aunt Kay’s call make the situation worse? One way or another, he knew more about me than I was comfortable with, but hopefully he’d just delete Aunt Kay’s message and that would be an end to it.

I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.