The Cold Nowhere (12 page)

Cat laughed. It was funny to think of Stride with a crush on a singer. She thought about where he was right now and who he was talking to. People like the Greens. People like Curt Dickes. She wondered if he’d still want her around when he learned about the life she’d been living.

Her feelings for him were all mixed up. She’d been without a real father for so long that she had no idea what it felt like to have someone take care of her. To keep her safe. She barely knew Stride, but she’d dreamed about a father like him for years. He was a man, too, and she knew all about what men wanted. She could never have him that way, because he wasn’t like the others. To him, she would always be a child, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. Part of her wanted to fall asleep in his lap like she was a little girl again. Part of her wanted to seduce him.

Her mixed emotions showed on her face. When she looked up, Kim was staring at her again.

‘Your brain taking another rocket ship to Mars?’ she asked.

‘I guess I have a lot to think about.’

‘Yeah, I hear you. Sorry, sensitivity’s not really my thing. Stride told me about your mom and what happened. Wow, must have been awful. Makes me glad to have parents who are relatively normal. Seems like not a lot of people can say that. Now, my in-laws? Don’t get me started.’

Cat said nothing. She didn’t want to think about her parents; she didn’t want to remember them now. She was relieved when Kim changed the subject.

‘Hey, Stride said to take you to dinner wherever you want. His treat. What sounds good?’

‘I’m not really hungry.’

‘How about Black Woods? You been there before? I love that barbecue-glazed meatloaf. Yum.’

‘Sure, whatever.’

‘Fabuloso.’ Kim reached over and poked her in the shoulder with a thick finger. ‘Listen, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but sometimes it helps to talk to someone about things. You know, if you’ve got bad things in your past, it’s good to let them out.’

‘I don’t really feel like talking.’

‘I don’t mean to me! Wow, no. I talk to computers mostly, because they don’t talk back. You should talk to someone who knows how to poke around upstairs.’

‘Like a shrink?’ Cat asked.

‘Yeah, like a shrink. Lots of people do it. I’ve done it. It really hit me hard back in school when I had a girlfriend who committed suicide. I spent a year on the couch. It helped.’

Cat heard a roaring in her ears, louder than the river. She was a locked room, and she felt Kim jiggling the handle, trying to open the door.

‘You ever done it?’ Kim asked, not letting go. ‘Talked to a shrink?’

Cat could see Vincent’s face. She could feel his warmth, his arms around her, his kiss. She wanted to forget that she had ever met him. She wanted to erase him from her memory. She wished she had never fallen in love with him.

She couldn’t afford to let anyone inside her head or her heart. Not again. Not after what had happened.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen a shrink. Not ever.’

‘Why do you carry a knife, Cat?’

‘
It makes me feel strong
.’

‘Your father carried a knife. Was he strong?’

‘
Yes
.’

‘Did he love you?’

‘
Yes
.’

‘And yet he did a terrible thing.’

‘
Yes, he did
.’

‘He killed your mother, and then he killed himself.’

‘
That’s what people say
.’

‘You don’t believe it? You were there.’

‘
I – I don’t know
.’

‘You still dream about it.’

‘
Yes
.’

‘What is it that bothers you most?’

‘
I don’t understand
.’

‘Well, does it bother you that your father killed your mother? Or that he left you alone by killing himself, too?’

‘
I –
’

‘Do you think he would have killed you, too? If he’d found you?’

‘
I – I don’t
 …’

‘What is it, Cat? Talk to me.’

‘
It’s hot in here
.’

‘Do you think your father planned to kill you, too?’

‘
Sometimes I wish he had
.’

‘Why?’

‘
Look at my life. Look at what I do
.’

‘Are you ashamed of what you do?’

‘
Yes
.’

‘How many men have you had sex with?’

‘
Um, I think, maybe twenty. Or more. I don’t count
.’

‘For money.’

‘
Yes
.’

‘All of these men were older than you.’

‘
Yes
.’

‘Were some of them as old as your father?’

‘
Yes
.’

‘Did you hate them?’

‘
I suppose so
.’

‘Did you want to kill them?’

‘
Sometimes
.’

‘Why didn’t you? You had the knife.’

‘
I – I thought about
 …’

‘You thought about it? You thought about murdering them.’

‘
Yes
.’

‘It would have felt good.’

‘
Yes
.’

‘Is sex a violent act for you?’

‘
I don’t know. I guess
.’

‘Are there any sexual acts you won’t do?’

‘
No
.’

‘None at all?’

‘
No.
’

‘Do you think you could kill someone?’

‘
I don’t know
.’

‘If you carry a knife, you must think you could use it.’

‘
Please. It’s hot in here
.’

‘I’ll open a window.’

Stride found Curt Dickes in Canal Park, steps away from the steel lift bridge that towered over the harbor. Behind him, angry lake waves hit the rocks and blew up in clouds of spray over the boardwalk. There was no sun, but Dickes wore metallic sunglasses. He was dressed in a black wool coat that draped to his ankles, and the wind swooped his coat behind him like a cape. Underneath, he wore a lavender silk shirt and pleated tan pants that ballooned at his skinny waist. A square-bottomed tie blew over his shoulder. His shoes were black sneakers.

When Dickes saw Stride, half of his face folded upward into a cocky smile. ‘Hey, Lieutenant Stride. I don’t usually get to see the big guy anymore. Most of the time it’s Sergeant Guppo or one of the other boys in uniform.’

‘Hello, Curt,’ Stride said. ‘Nice outfit.’

‘It’s trendy, huh?’

‘Sure. Pretty nice ride you’ve got there, too.’

Dickes stood next to a showroom-new red Ford Fusion in the parking lot. ‘It’s sweet, isn’t it? Plus, I’m saving the planet. Very cool.’

‘Yeah, you’re a regular Al Gore, Curt.’

Stride noticed an advertisement on the vehicle plates from Lowball Lenny’s huge Ford showroom on Miller Hill. He didn’t like the coincidence of Curt Dickes showing up in a car he couldn’t afford, the day after Leonard Keck’s party aboard the
Charles Frederick
.

‘So where’d you get the money for the car?’ he asked. ‘You’re a janitor, aren’t you? You throw sawdust on puke.’

‘In my day job, sure, but I’m also an entrepreneur.’

‘Oh, yes? Doing what?’

Dickes used his index finger like a comb to smooth his black, greased hair, which barely moved in the ferocious wind. The breeze off the entire lake, however, wasn’t enough to overpower Dickes’s Monsieur Musk cologne, which oozed from his skin like burnt incense. The twenty-five-year-old dug in his coat pocket and extracted a business card and handed it to Stride.

‘Entertainment Advisor?’ Stride asked, reading the title. He shook his head and laughed.

‘That’s me.’

‘I hear you’re a pimp now,’ Stride said.

Dickes slapped a hand over his heart in mock dismay. ‘Tourists have lots of entertainment needs. I do what I can.’

Stride looked the kid up and down. He’d probably arrested him twenty times over the years. Curt Dickes had a radar for scams and an addiction to cash, which usually didn’t last long in his pocket. ‘Look, I’ve known you for a long time, Curt. You’re not a bad kid, but there’s a big difference between selling fake Yanni tickets outside the DECC and getting in the middle of prostitution and drugs. That can go bad for you in a lot of ways. If someone gets hurt or killed, you could be staring at real time.’

‘Thanks for the warning, Lieutenant, but I’ve got friends looking out for me now.’

Stride ran a hand over the car’s spoiler. ‘Friends like Lowball Lenny? Did he give you the car?’

‘It’s more like an extended test drive,’ Dickes said. ‘You know Lenny, he takes care of people.’

‘Yes, he does.’

Stride had bought a Ford Bronco himself from Lenny years earlier. It was his first Ford; he’d driven a Chevy Blazer until then. Lenny insisted on selling him the new truck at cost, as appreciation for
Stride’s work in putting away the burglar who’d shot Lenny’s wife. Lenny was also a candidate for City Council at the time, and it made good headlines to play nice with the police. Since then, their relationship had soured. As a politician, and a good friend of the chief, Lenny liked to throw his weight around, and Stride didn’t like back-seat drivers on his investigations.

‘I know about Lenny’s party on the boat, Curt. Somebody saw you arrive with the girls.’

Dickes shrugged. ‘So what?’

‘I talked to one of them. You gave her money.’

‘I hired girls to dress up a party. That’s not a crime.’

‘Not to have sex?’

‘Hey, what they do with the guys is their business, not mine. Come on, Lieutenant, who are we kidding? This is a college town. Tuition keeps going up. A sophomore at UMD can work thirty hours a week toasting sandwiches at Quizno’s or she can spend a couple hours with a bored convention rat and make twice the dough. Your own cops know these girls need the money. Most of the time, they look the other way.’

‘I’m not interested in the college girls. I’m talking about a street girl. Her name’s Catalina Mateo.’

‘Sure, I know Cat. Men will pay big for a face like hers.’

‘She’s sixteen.’

For the first time, Dickes paled. ‘Fuck, no, no way! She had a license, it said eighteen.’

Stride shook his head. ‘Sixteen.’

‘Hey, I don’t mess around with kids.’

‘Like I said, this is the kind of business that can get you into real trouble. Tell me about Cat.’

‘Not much to tell, man. She comes and goes. Sometimes I don’t see her for weeks. When she needs cash, I hook her up.’

‘She thinks someone is coming after her. You hear anything about that?’

‘She told me about a car almost running her down near the shelter. That’s all I know. I figured it was some drunk.’

‘Did you set her up with any creepy guys? Stalker types?’

Dickes shook his head. ‘Nobody worse than anybody else. Come on, the guys up here are mostly bald Swedes on business trips, not serial killers. Besides, if some john got obsessed with her, I figure he’d come to me to find her again. Nobody did.’

‘No one asked for her by name?’

‘Nope.’

‘Do you have a list of guys you set her up with?’

Dickes groaned. ‘What, do I look like I take American Express? It’s not like I check IDs.’

‘What about parties? Could Cat have seen something that she wasn’t supposed to see?’

‘I don’t see how, man. Most of the time, it’s bachelor parties and high school reunions.’

‘Okay, tell me about Lenny’s party. Someone
knew
Cat was going to be there. He waited for her outside. How would anyone know about that?’

‘I put the word out,’ Dickes told him. ‘Girls talk. Lots of people probably had the lowdown. It was all over town.’

‘Cat also says someone was asking around about her a few weeks ago,’ Stride said. ‘Did you hear anything about that?’

‘Nah, that’s news to me. Who told her that?’

‘One of the street girls named Brandy.’

Dickes whistled. ‘Whoa, Brandy, she’s a trip. You don’t mess with Brandy. With those eyes of hers, she’s like an alien. Like something out of Area 51. She scares the shit out of me. I count her money twice, because you don’t want Brandy thinking you’re trying to rip her off.’

‘Brandy told Cat someone was trying to find her. This was down near the graffiti graveyard under the freeway.’

‘Yeah, if I was looking for a street girl, I’d check there.’

‘But you don’t know who it could be?’ Stride asked.

‘I don’t.’

‘Have any of the girls talked about someone hassling them?’

‘Nothing they couldn’t handle. If anyone was causing problems, I’d hear about it.’

Stride frowned. He wasn’t finding any answers. ‘Where does Brandy hang out?’

‘Brandy goes wherever there’s money. It’s Saturday, so she’ll probably be cruising around here this evening. There’s always business on the weekends no matter what time of year it is.’

‘What about right now?’

‘Now? Who knows? It’s daylight, man, that’s when the vampires stay inside. Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘So make a guess,’ Stride said.

Dickes shoved his hands in his coat pockets. ‘Okay, but you did
not
hear about this from me. If the girls find out I’m rousting their hiding places, it’s bad for business.’

Stride waited.

‘Check over at Central High,’ Dickes went on. ‘Ever since they closed the school, some of the smart ones have figured out how to get inside and treat the place like a motel for hook-ups. Brandy’s definitely one of the smart ones.’

*

The old high school had one of the prime locations in the city, with sweeping views down the hillside to the lake. Stride parked near the entrance to the brick building. The school was vacant, a victim of shrinking enrollment, but there were still torn posters for the Trojans taped to the windows, as if classes were in session and students would walk through the doors. He couldn’t visit this building without seeing ghosts in the hallway from his teenage years.

This was his school. He and Cindy had both gone here.

Stride got out of his truck and breathed in the cold afternoon air. It was almost dusk. He began a slow walk around the perimeter
of the building. The area was oddly desolate, like an abandoned town. The parking lots were empty. So were the athletic fields. At the school windows, he squinted and saw deserted corridors and overturned chairs, their metal legs jutting up like a field of nails. Each classroom carried an imaginary echo of voices, but the echoes wouldn’t last. Soon enough, the building would be torn down, replaced by more soulless condos. Sometimes he wondered if he would recognize the city in a few years.