Anonymity (20 page)

EMILY PERUSED the short article “Body Found at Town Lake” online in the city's main newspaper. Authorities had released a thorough description, including details of the tattoos on Fiona's body, but no one had come forward to identify her. The reporter wrote about obvious signs of trauma on the body of the girl, “known simply as Fiona.” It was noted that she had not been shot. Police asked anyone who had seen the girl in recent days to contact them.

She hoped Travis would do a more thorough job covering the story when
Be Here Now
came out later in the week. Fiona deserved more.

Her doorbell chimed and a soft knock followed.

The last person Emily expected to see on her doorstep was her father. He looked sheepish and a little sweaty.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, honey. I just wanted to come by and see you. Is that okay?”

“Well, sure. Come on in.”

He followed her inside.

“You want some coffee or tea? A Coke maybe?”

“Coffee would be nice.”

“Fine. Come on in the kitchen and talk to me while I make it.”

“Okay.”

He sat at her table and watched her measure out coffee and pour water.

“So,” Emily said as she got cups out of the cabinet. “What's up?”

In all her days of living here, her father had never paid a spontaneous social call. He was always with her mother or he came with a specific purpose like delivering something.

He cleared his throat and ran a nervous hand through his remaining hair. This last gesture made her heart flutter, and she settled into the chair across from him.

“Something's wrong,” she said flatly.

“Well, no reason to beat around the bush anymore. I think I'm going to lose my job.”

“Oh, Dad. No. Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Pretty sure. Yes. I'm positive.”

She had a flash of memory of the day after the flood at home. He'd been making pancakes, and he'd told her he needed to speak with her about something, but she'd gotten distracted, and then she'd never followed up.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

He nodded again. “I…I've been thinking it was going to happen. Now, I'm sure.”

“You'll just have to find another job. I know you can do it.”

He let go a small breathy chuckle. “Right. Right.”

“Dad, you're a great guy. You're super smart. I know you'll find another job.”

He shook his head and she saw what she thought was a tear. “I'm afraid your mother will leave me this time.”

“Oh, no. Don't think that. She'd never leave you.”

“No. She would. I know she would. Our lives, our marriage. None of it has lived up to her expectations. I made promises to her before we were married. Promises that I haven't kept.”

“Like what?”

“I told her I'd always take care of her, but look how things have turned out. It's the other way around. Now, she's taking care of me.”

“You guys are taking care of each other. You're a team. So what? When one of you is down the other one holds things together. There's no shame in that. Has she
said
she's going to leave you?”

“No, but I can feel it. Maybe I don't blame her. Maybe I'd leave me too if I were her.”

“That's crazy talk. She's not going to leave you.” But then Emily thought about it and reconsidered. There was, actually, the very real possibility that her mother would walk away. Say what you will about Barbara Bryce, but she was always a survivor.

“They're only giving four weeks severance. Four weeks. One month. That's nothing.”

“Are you guys pressed, financially I mean?”

He nodded again, a pitiful thing. “I'm not going to lie to you. We're stretched pretty thin.”

Emily thought things were bad, but she hadn't known just how bad. They had scaled back, tried to get things under control. But apparently the loss of her father's job could be catastrophic for them.

“I didn't want her to know until I was sure.” He shook his head. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come here and burdened you with this.”

“No. No. I'm glad to help. I'll keep my ears open. If I hear of any jobs I'll let you know, but I don't usually run with the software crowd.”

He just nodded.

“Maybe it's time to reinvent yourself. Do something different. Go into business for yourself.”

“You need start-up capital to do that. Besides, I don't know what I would do. I can't think of any retail business that would be good to start in this economy, and I wouldn't know how to run something like a restaurant. I'm too old to go work somewhere that's manual labor. I'm out of luck.”

“Geez, come on. You're not obsolete just yet.”

He looked around her little kitchen and fidgeted. The coffee maker spurted and groaned, indicating it had completed its job. Emily got up to fill their mugs and then it hit her.

“What about my college money? You guys still have that, right?”

“Sure. But I don't want to even think about your money. It needs to be there for you. You know, when you decide you want it.”

“Why don't you use that for start-up money? You can pay the account back when you start making a profit. Be your own man, that way you don't ever have to worry about getting fired ever again.”

“I won't use your money.”

She handed him his coffee, black.

“That's stupid. Of course you'll use it. You saved it. It's technically your money.”

“No. I don't see that as an option.”

“Okay. But just think about it.”

Her cell phone rang. She hated that it happened once again at a crucial time with her father.

David's name appeared.

“I hate to do this,” she said. “Is it okay if I take this?”

“Of course, don't let me interrupt,” her father said.

She took the call in her bedroom. “Hey David. What's up?”

“How'd you like to go for a ride?”

“Where?”

“I'm going to check a few locations kids like to hang out, away from downtown. The skate park. Barton Springs. Something bad happens like the Fiona thing and they make themselves scarce.”

“Looking for Lorelei?”

“Among others.”

When she came out of the bedroom, her father was standing by the front door.

“No. Wait. Don't leave.”

“I've bothered you enough for one day. Please don't say anything to your mother until I have a chance to talk to her.”

“I won't. Look, I know how you feel. Mom has super-high expectations. I've spent my entire life trying to please her. I finally grew up and gave up. You can only do what you can do. You don't owe her anything.”

His smile was weak. “That's not exactly true, honey. When you're married you'll understand.”

“Maybe. If I ever get married.”

“Well,” he hedged a moment before he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You'll find somebody. You're just being picky, and that's a good thing.”

Her heart ached at his sad smile.

He reached up and touched her cheek.

“You're a beautiful person, Emily. I've always been proud of you.”

She flung her arms around him. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too.”

Her heart felt too big for her chest as she watched him walk toward his car at the curb. He'd adopted a hunched posture that she didn't recognize. Was it age or was he truly in trouble this time? Her mother had been right. He did have a big secret.

Fifteen minutes later, David rumbled up in the front yard, sun flashing off chrome. The day was pleasant. The bike purred beneath them. He drove fast, gliding smoothly through traffic. Wind lashed her hair against her cheeks in stinging streaks. She could feel David's stomach tighten as he leaned into curves. She hadn't thought about what he looked like under his shirt, but he suddenly seemed much more appealing. She had the desire to lay her head against his back and hug him close, but that would have been much too familiar.

BARTON SPRINGS was still green and overhung with shade. As always, the aquifer pool was clear and calm. Below the expansive concrete reservoir, in the rock tumbled streambed, people sat along the banks and threw sticks into the water for their dogs.

“I'll be damned. There she is.” David couldn't believe they'd found her so quickly. Lorelei was perched on a giant rock about ten feet into the water. She sat up straight, her arms wrapped around her knees as she gazed off into the woods.

David parked and walked to the bank next to her spot.

“Hey,” he called.

She slowly turned his way. “Oh, hi.”

He jumped from rock to rock until he reached her and sat down. The stone was sun-warmed and comforting.

A shirt she had washed was plastered across another rock.

“Come here often?” he said, trying to make light.

“I get around.”

“You been okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“Haven't seen you in a while.”

“Decided to move zones. You know, with people getting killed and all.”

“That's so wrong about Fiona. I know you guys were friends.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

The Zilker Park kiddy train made a high-pitched whistle in the distance, and Lorelei paused to listen. Her eyes darted with her thoughts. Emily had crouched on a nearby boulder. She picked up a few pebbles and tossed them into the water one by one.

“Do you know something about what happened to her?”

“Look, I don't want to get involved,” Lorelei said.

“I won't rat you out. If you know something you should tell me before somebody else gets hurt. Somebody beat her pretty bad. Anybody we know?”

He waited.

“There's some guys.”

“Yeah?”

“Bum hunters. They were picking on some old dude, and then Fiona yelled at them to stop and they started pounding her. That's when I split.”

“Okay.”

“I don't know if they meant to kill anybody, but they had a bat and a paintball gun. Check it.” She pulled up her pant leg. Two angry bruises bloomed on her thigh.

“They shot you.”

“Hurt like crazy.”

“Looks like it. Did they see you?”

“Sure they saw me.”

“So they'd recognize you?”

“Most likely. That's why I'm hanging out around here. Look, none of the other kids know about this, okay?”

“You didn't tell anybody?”

“No. They'd hate me if they knew I took off and let Fiona get killed.”

“That was in no way your fault. Fiona was murdered. If you'd hung around you might have ended up dead too.”

“You've got to do something. Make them find those guys. You're right. They could hurt somebody else.”

“Are you scared?”

“Just cautious.”

“You camp around here?”

She suddenly grew irritated. “Look, I don't need you to worry about me. I only told you because I didn't want that old homeless dude to go to jail for killing Fiona. They jumped him too. He was all bloody and stuff.”

“Okay.”

“That just wouldn't be right, you know?”

“Sure. I totally understand.”

“One of them had a camera. A video camera. He taped the whole thing.”

This sort of thing went on. David had watched it on YouTube.

They listened to the water's trickle for a while. A golden retriever splashed after a branch.

“You got any money?” Lorelei said.

“How about something to eat?” David asked. “You gals hungry? I'm starving. How about it, Lorelei? Want a sandwich?”

“I could eat.”

“Great. Come on, Emily. I need you to hold the food. We'll be right back.”

In the parking lot, Emily said, “You think she'll be there when we get back?”

“Probably. If she thinks she'll get a free feed. I just needed to know she was okay.”

They drove across the road to a health food restaurant carved into the rocky side of a hill. David ordered sandwiches and smoothies to go. Emily had a shot of wheatgrass while they waited outside on the deck.

“If she needs somewhere to stay she can crash with me again for a few days,” she said.

“That's not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Look, you can do what you want, but it's important to have boundaries.”

“That why you invited me to come along today? Because you thought I needed better boundaries?”

That stung. She was right. How could he explain why he invited her?

“Okay. You have a point. What I mean is, you have to know where your line is. I don't give kids money. I don't let them live with me. I usually don't give them rides.”

“Then what do you do to help?”

“I help them help themselves. Street kids are unpredictable. It's important that you don't become emotionally involved. It rarely ends up the way you'd like.”

“I can't believe I'm hearing this from you. I'd think that any kind of help would be good.”

“Not always. Look, you have to set healthy boundaries or else she'll have you on edge all the time. Just like this disappearing act. She knows when she's gone that people think about her. I'd imagine that's her hope anyway.”

“No cash money?”

“That's up to you. I'm not sure she'd use it for drugs. She doesn't seem to have much of a drug habit, but you never know. She seems a little unstable. Quick-tempered. She hangs around with kids who use.”

“Siesta Gardens.”

“Right.”

“Was Fiona using?”

“On a daily basis.”

“Think it was a drug deal gone bad?”

“Could be. This assault Lorelei's talking about sounds very much like a bad drug deal. We may never know.”

“Like anybody is going to put a big effort into finding out who killed some homeless kid.”

“Right. So I'm just saying be aware of her behavior and try not to react to it personally.”

“You're right. I know you're right. I don't even know why I care.”

“Because you do. Some of us just do.”

They weren't gone ten minutes, but when they got back with the food, Lorelei was nowhere to be found.

“Great,” Emily said. “Just great.”

“Like I said, these kids are unpredictable. If they don't want to talk they can be ghosts.”

“But you let her get away.”

His was a smile of surrender. “It has to be her choice.”

GERALD CUT off another bite of chicken fried steak and dragged it through a mound of mashed potatoes smothered in milk gravy.

They had just left Barbara's parents and had stopped on the way home for some comfort food. She looked out the window of the restaurant where she worked as a teenager and envisioned waves of bluebonnets. Spring would bring its familiar rolling blanket of purple blossoms to these hills.

She took another sip of tea. The waitress arrived with the plastic refill pitcher, but Barbara waved her hand over the lip of her glass.

“Oh, that's right, darlin’. You want
unsweet,”
the waitress said as if Barbara were a lunatic.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“With no Splenda or nothing?”

“No. Thank you though.” Barbara pulled a tight smile for the benefit of the waitress. She was proud of her self-control, but at times it was difficult. Like right now. Right now she wanted to reach over and slap Gerald.

How long had he known he was losing his job?

As soon as the waitress left, tears tickled Barbara's eyes. She touched them with a napkin.

“I can't believe we have to go through this again,” she said.

“I'm sorry,” Gerald said. He stuffed another forkful of steak into his mouth and glanced out the window. He had been looking anywhere expect directly at her.

“Why did you wait until now to tell me? Now that you have your walking papers there's nothing we can do.”

He swallowed. Adjusted his glasses. Took a sip of tea. Then he said in an even tone, “Barbara, sweetheart. I assure you I did everything I could. There is nothing more that could be done. The company is downsizing. Last hired. First fired.”

“So…so…well, I'm speechless.”

“I didn't want to worry you earlier than necessary. I thought it might blow over.”

“No wonder you've been acting weird the past few weeks.”

His expression changed. “I wasn't aware that it showed.”

“Right. I can read you like a book. I knew something was up.” She struggled to tamp down her emotions. She thought he was a coward for dropping this bomb on her in public where he knew she wouldn't make a scene.

“How can you sit there and eat like that?” she snapped. “This conversation has made me lose my appetite.”

“Stop being so dramatic. We've been through worse. We'll be fine.”

“You have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You have to promise me that you'll go see a doctor this time and get some antidepressants. Something that will keep you out of the theater room and looking for a job.”

“I'll think about it.”

“And no boozing either.”

“I promise, but I want you to promise
me
something.”

“What's that?”

“That you will have some faith in me.”

“I have faith in you, Gerald.”

“No you don't. You don't trust me, and I can understand why. When we entered into this marriage I vowed that I'd take care of you and I intend to do that.”

“Lord, Gerald. This isn't 1910. I think I can pull my weight.”

“That's not the point. The point is that a man prides himself on being able to take care of his family. Now, I don't know how I'm going to do it. I haven't got that part figured out. But I can tell you that working for somebody else doesn't work for me. I'm thinking about other options.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I'm not sure yet, but we can discuss it. I value your input.”

Barbara wiped another tear. “Everybody is lying to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You lied to me through omission. Emily lies to my face. Are you aware that she is still involved with that street girl she brought to our house?”

“No, but I fail to see how that affects us. Emily's a grown woman.”

“Hardly. Do grown women have their daddies buy them a set of new tires?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Don't think I don't know what you did,” she said. “I saw the new tires before you gave her back the MINI. And they were the nice ones too, not the cheap kind. See, lying by omission.”

Barbara knew he hadn't thought of his actions in quite that way, but she couldn't resist the jab.

“You're right,” he said, “But that's my way of going into her room and crying over her old clothes and teddy bears.”

It was Barbara's turn to feel stung. How had he known about her days in Emily's room? He grinned that he'd gotten the better of her, then returned to his detached expression.

“She needed them,” he said. “A dad's got to be good for some things.”

The waitress finally brought the unsweetened tea and slipped the bill onto the checkered tablecloth. She didn't offer up her idle chatter, so Barbara knew she sensed something was up at table nine.

“That homeless girl that got killed at Town Lake, Emily knew her,” Barbara said. “She said that she'd met her the day before. She said somebody is beating street kids to death with ball bats.”

“That sounds a little melodramatic.”

“How in the world could Emily know a girl who got murdered? Emily needs better friends. You know she has absolutely no people filter.”

“Uh-huh. I've heard that a few times.”

“She let that street urchin move in with her right after the flood.”

“How do you know this?”

“A mother knows things.”

“You spied on her?”

“I sensed something was up, so I drove by, and the girl was there while Emily was at work. I let her borrow the Acadia under the stipulation that she
would not
let that girl move in with her. Emily assured me she wouldn't, and then she went straight home and did exactly that.”

“The girl's just down on her luck.”

“She's a runaway.”

“Of course she's a runaway. The question is why.”

“She probably didn't like rules. Or she didn't like school. Thought she'd have a life of adventure. I bet I could find her parents.”

“Where would you even start looking?”

“I don't know. Maybe those people who send that card in the circulars once a week with that little picture—
Have you seen this child?
Maybe I could get the Print-A-Thon folks to help.”

“Do you remember what she looks like well enough to pick her out of a lineup?”

“I wonder what she looked like before she ruined her face. I mean, really, that child is going to cost somebody a fortune in laser removal.”

“Have you thought about how you can help the girl? That's all Emily is trying to do, just help.”

“Gerald, be realistic. That girl doesn't want help. She just wants to take what she can get from any willing victim, then she moves on.”

“We all make mistakes,” he said. “Emily has a right to make her own mistakes. She may not have turned out like you planned, but she's got a good head on her shoulders. If she doesn't come to us for help then we need to stay out of her business.”