Deadly Blessings (9 page)

“
He’ll be there Saturday,
Alex, don’t worry. I’ll make sure.”

“
Don’t you want to check
with him first? Maybe he has plans.”

“
Let me worry about that.
He’s usually just wandering around here on Saturdays anyway,
getting into my hair, or into trouble.” Aunt Lena took a breath,
like a wind-up noise, leading me to believe that whatever came next
was going to be important. “Trust me, honey, he’s gonna be thrilled
to help you move back home.”

I stared at the phone for a few minutes
after we hung up. Nobody in my family had ever liked Dan. Polite
folks, they didn’t slam him too badly behind his back, but I always
sensed an undercurrent of “eeyoo.” Even my sister Lucy didn’t much
care for him, and Lucy liked everybody. That reminded me. I needed
to call her and tell her I wouldn’t be there Saturday after all. I
could almost picture the disappointment on her face when I broke
the news.

I’d call her later.

It was almost eleven. This next chick was
late. I drained the rest of my water and decided I’d better hit the
little girls’ room before my next appointment showed.

I wondered how it was that Gabriela had so
many acquaintances who had hair issues. Was it just a string of
exceptionally bad luck, or what? I hadn’t had a truly terrible hair
experience ever in my life. But then again, I could go months
without stepping foot in a beauty shop. I guess the law of averages
was on my side.

“
Alex?”

Jordan met me in the doorway with the second
friend. I’d have to hold off the potty stop till later.

“
Your appointment is here.
This is Tammy Larken.”

“
Hi,” I said. She looked
vaguely familiar. But I couldn’t quite place her.

“
You’re Alex?”

Surprised both by her question and her tone
I shrugged. “Yeah.”

She didn’t try to hide her displeasure. “I
thought Alex was a man.”

Ooh, I could feel myself not liking this
chick already. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint you. I’m Alex St. James.”
I extended my hand. She shook the tips of my fingers and let go, as
though I’d handed her a fish. “Come on in. Would you like anything
to drink? Water, coffee?”

She laughed at that, a light chuckle. I had
no idea what was funny. “Uh … no.”

“
Have a seat.” She
did.

“
When will I be filmed?”
she asked.

“
Excuse me?”

“
The filming of the show,”
she said, enunciating her words. In her early thirties, she had to
be the thinnest person I’d ever encountered. Not attractive-thin,
she was emaciated. With short wavy brown hair she wore cropped
close to her head, and sucked-in cheeks that showed off every bone
of her jawline, I felt that nagging feeling again that she reminded
me of someone. I couldn’t believe her bony hands, even as they dug
a cigarette out of her purse. “You mind?”

“
Sorry,” I said.
“Regulations. This isn’t a designated smoking area.” It was the
truth. But I knew that Bass looked the other way whenever we had
someone in our offices who just had to light up to get their story
out. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with second-hand smoke.
Especially not from this broad.

She slammed the cigarette back into the pack
so hard that it bent and then accompanied the resulting movements
with several well-chosen expletives. Finally, she looked up
again.

All of a sudden it hit me.
Jane Hathaway. From the old
Beverly
Hillbillies
show. I watched the reruns as
a kid. Except Mr. Drysdale’s secretary was a much gentler soul. And
much prettier—which wasn’t saying a lot for old Tammy
here.

“
What?” she asked me, and I
swear, she sneered.

“
I was just going to ask
you about your experience at the salon,” I lied.

“
Yeah—and you never
answered my question about when you’re going to need me for
filming.”

“
To be frank, Ms. Larken,
we haven’t decided yet who will be interviewed on camera and whose
stories will be used as background.”

“
You mean I drove down the
friggin’ Edens all the way here for this goddamn interview and
you’re telling me that you might not be using my story?”

“
I won’t know till I hear
it, so why don’t we begin?”

“
Why the hell should I?
Gabriela told me I’d be on TV and that’s what I came here for. I’m
not about to spend my time with some little peon like you who
doesn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground.”

I get these types every so often. Didn’t
expect it today, but hey, my luck had been going downhill
lately.

I stood up. “You’re absolutely right.”

That surprised her.

Continuing, I gestured her to stand up. She
did. “You know what? Gabriela’s filming one of our ad spots right
now, down at the studio. Let me give you the address.”

I walked over to Jordan’s desk. She was on
the phone, giving me a look I didn’t understand. I grabbed a
Post-it Note and scribbled down the information. “Gabriela’s the
one who’s really in charge here.” That was a lie I’d burn in hell
for. “Take a cab … save the receipt and I’ll see that you’re
reimbursed. When you get there, tell her that we need your story on
tape first, before we do any of the regular filming.”

Tammy’s eyes showed a touch of interest.
“She can do that?”

“
When she
wants to. Sometimes she’s a little … what’s the word … persnickety?
But I’m sure you already know that.” I grinned, as though we were
sharing a joke at the star’s expense. “Push her. Hard, if you have
to. She
can
do it. Don’t let her tell you she can’t. And then tell her to
send the tape to my attention. At her earliest convenience, of
course.”

Jordan started to mouth something to me, the
receiver still tight to the side of her head.

I smiled and winked at Tammy, sending her on
her way with a cheerful feeling in my heart.

Jordan waited till she was out of earshot.
“Here,” she said, her low voice intense. “I think you need to take
this one.”

I took the receiver, “Alex St. James.”

“
Oh!” The sounds of a woman
crying met my ear, and my first concern was for Lucy, but within
seconds I knew it wasn’t her. I had no idea who was calling me.
Until she took a breath and spoke to me in Polish. “Alex, I am
Sophie, from yesterday. My brother, Matthew … he’s gone. He’s
missing.”

Chapter Six

I made it to Sophie’s address in just over
twenty-five minutes. She lived in a tidy neighborhood on the near
south side, well-known for its enduring Polish population. All the
brick three-flats in this proud five block radius, with their
sparkling white trim and clipped shrubs, were a testament to the
work ethic that the nationality was known for. Despite the overcast
day and the scattered rain clouds that had just finished a
cleansing downpour, it was a welcoming neighborhood, the kind where
I wouldn’t be fearful walking alone at night.

I found her building right away. There was
no place to park out in front, however, so on my second circuit
around the block, I fitted into the only open space, at the far
corner between two big Chevys. I loved my little Escort. Made it in
with less than six inches to spare. Just as I moved to open my car
door, a man emerged from Sophie’s building.

Even though I was at least seven houses
away, I could tell it was the burly fellow from the salon. Ro. He
moved with purpose toward a dark sedan across the street from
Sophie’s house. There was no reason in the world for me to want to
hide from him, but I got the silly sense that I should. Ole Nancy
Drew kicking in again. What the heck.

Maybe he was Sophie’s boyfriend come to
offer his help, I told myself. But that didn’t feel right. As he
pulled his car into the center of the narrow street, I did two
things: I noticed that the pavement beneath his car was wet, which
meant he hadn’t been there long, and I found a gum wrapper on the
floor of my passenger side that I needed to pick up, just then.
This allowed me to wait till the sound of the car passed before
raising my head to check the rearview mirror. He turned left at the
corner and was gone. He hadn’t seen me. Of that, I was certain.

I suppose I could have gone another turn
around the block and taken his recently vacated spot, a much better
one, but proud of my parallel parking efforts, I let it go and
hoped the rain didn’t start up again soon.

Sophie had told me to come around the back.
She was there, waiting for me, standing near the support beam of
her small wooden porch. Her arms folded and unfolded across her
chest. Tension in her body language made her bounce.

“
Alex?” she said as I
walked up. Her eyes were wide and blue; she looked at me the same
way Lucy does sometimes when she’s gotten into trouble and needs my
help to get out. “Thank you, thank you,” she said in English, the
words coming out like “tenk you,” as she grasped my hand in both of
hers and led me inside.

Sophie’s three flat had been converted so
that this floor boasted two apartments instead of one. Sophie and
her brother occupied the back half of the first level. This was one
tiny place to live.

We sat in the kitchen, around a four-chair
aluminum table with a white-speckled Formica top. Very fifties.
There were two rooms behind heavily varnished wood doors, and a
hall that no doubt led to a bathroom. Everything, from the kitchen
sink on legs, to the refrigerator with the freezer on the bottom,
were throwbacks from many decades ago. I guessed that they’d rented
this place fully furnished. And I wanted to get a look at the other
rooms, just because I’m a nosy chick.

“
You want coffee?” she
asked, getting up quickly, as though she’d made some gross
mistake.

“
No, no. Just sit down,
Sophie.”

She rubbed at her forehead, then perched her
supershort thumbnail between her teeth, as if waiting for me to
speak.

“
Just now, out front, I
thought I saw that guy from the salon. Ro?”

Her teeth didn’t let go of the nail as she
nodded her head.

“
Is he your …
boyfriend?”

“
No!” she said, slapping
both hands on the table.

Not quite the response I’d expected, I
nodded. “Okay then, who is he?”

“
His name is Rodero. He
come here to pick up something. For work.”

Remembering the altercation yesterday, I
asked, “Does he have any idea where your brother is?”

“
I don’t tell him Matthew
gone. You find him? I pay you.”

“
Nuh-no, wait. Hold on a
minute. I don’t know exactly what I can do here …”

Sophie pulled out my card, “I look up this
word. In-ves-ti-ga-tor. It mean you find people. No?”

“
Not exactly,” I
said.

“
Not like
Magnum?”

“
Magnum?”

“
Magnum PI
.”

The old Tom Selleck show. Still on in
reruns, obviously. “No. I work for a TV station. I investigate
interesting stories … like the news.”

Her look told me I wasn’t getting
through.

I switched to Polish and told her. “I’m not
a detective. Not like Magnum. I investigate stories.”

Sophie’s lips compressed into a thin line as
she nodded in a way that tore at my heart. “I don’t know what to
do,” she said, lapsing into her native tongue.

“
First of all, how do you
know he’s missing? Maybe he’s just out for the day.”

“
No,” she said with a
vehement shake of her head. “They called me from his work this
morning. He never showed up.”

“
Did he say anything before
he left?”

Sophie’s eyes welled with tears. “He never
came home last night.”

“
You’re sure?”

I watched her fight a losing battle with her
emotions, her eyes expressing fear, deep sorrow, and something
else. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “I came in late last
night. I had a date. And I thought Matthew was already home because
he usually goes to bed early. But when I went in his room this
morning, I knew he hadn’t been there, because his clothes that I
washed and folded were still on his bed, the way I left them.”

Getting all that out in one breath took all
of Sophie’s energies and she covered her face with her hands,
trying to quiet her own sobs.

I let her cry for a minute. Truth was, I had
no idea what to do next.

“
Do you have any idea where
he might have gone?”

“
He only wants to help me,
I know that.”

I studied Sophie as she settled herself.
When the tears started, her face had immediately broken out into
huge red welts, and her eyes puffed up.

“
Do you want me to go with
you to the police station?”

She sat up as if slapped. “The police? I
can’t go to the police. Why do you want me to do that?”

“
If your brother’s missing,
we can file a report. I don’t know if it’s too early, but it won’t
hurt to get his information out there. What kind of car does he
drive?” I asked, pulling out my notebook.

“
No car.”

“
Do you have a picture? We
can give that to the police to help them.”

“
No. No police.”

“
Why the hell
not?”

“
I can’t.”

“
Are you here illegally?” I
asked.