Never Coming Home (15 page)

Bobby took a deep breath and straightened his face, sobering up instantly. This was serious stuff. He’d be there, if Devlin wanted to talk about the lady, like when the order for snowmobiles came through from hell. Which meant he had to go with the screw up over the job.
That
they might be able to fix. And he had an angle on that himself.

‘Okay – so suppose I go along with this obsession? What do we need to do?’ With some amusement Bobby watched Devlin’s eyes widen.

‘We?’

‘This thing is about two little girls, remember?’ Bobby said quietly.

‘I saw those women. Sally Ann’s mother
 
…’ He paused. He’d been thinking about that, wondering just how much pain and guilt there was, behind the hostility and the anger and the booze. He shrugged. ‘Her grandmother is grieving. Knowing her granddaughter is dead won’t make anything better, but right now we can’t even give her that. We have to prove Jamie Elmore wasn’t in that crash, before we can prove that Sally Ann
was
. Until we bring Jamie Elmore home, one way or another, no one gets closure.’ He straightened up. ‘So – again – what do we need to do?’

Devlin hesitated. ‘Thanks.’

Bobby raised a finger. ‘None of this hearts-and-flowers crap means I’m going soft. You’re gonna haul your sorry ass back from whatever planet you’re on and we work this and the O’Hara deal and all the other regular shit. You got that?’

‘Just about,’ Devlin drawled. ‘And it’s still thanks.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Bobby ducked his head. ‘We’ve been buddies a long time. Too fucking long.’ He shrugged himself off Devlin’s
desk. ‘O’Hara is expecting to meet with us in the next couple of weeks. We need something to show him by then. I reckon we’ve still got space to do a little sniffing around.’

‘You know we could dig up a whole heap of stuff, and it still might not tell us a Goddamn thing that’s of any use.’

‘Chance we have to take.’ Bobby was philosophical. ‘You’re thinking about how Sally Ann came to hook up with Elmore’s girlfriend?’

‘And where she was in the missing time. And how Elmore got his daughter out of the country.’ Devlin reached for the phone. He dialled, waited, then left a terse message. ‘Munroe and Rossi,’ he explained to Bobby’s enquiring stare. ‘I want to see what they can do from their end. The whole Elmore thing
 
…
 
’ He shifted restlessly. ‘It all fits together so damn well.’

‘Too well?’

‘It makes perfect sense, and no sense at all. Elmore killed his daughter, his new girlfriend and her kid, then tops himself in a fit of remorse. Nice neat story. But why snatch the kid, just to kill her?’

‘An accident? He covers up and the girlfriend blackmails him?’

‘Could be.’ Devlin looked off to the side. ‘Everyone is assuming that Jamie is dead. Again.’

‘But if she’s not
 
–’

‘–
 
where the fuck is she?’ Devlin finished softly. He fixed his eyes back on Bobby. Bobby took a jolt as he looked into them. Wide, troubled, defenceless. Not a look he’d ever thought to see on Devlin.

They’d first met when? Six years ago? Seven? The Carstairs job. He hadn’t been impressed, being partnered with a Brit, but orders were orders – international co-operation and all that. And shit, what did you know, it had worked. ‘They’ had been delighted and crowing, curse their black, shrivelled souls. Six months later Devlin had saved his ass, when another international thing went spectacularly belly up. He’d returned the compliment a month after that. So, when things were getting stale and Devlin came looking for him with his proposition – new identities, new business, new life – he’d been ready to go. Now he was Bobby Hoag, with money in the bank, Hollywood babes on the horizon and a partner who looked like misery in a smart suit.

Devlin was still talking. ‘This thing has been bothering me, right from the get-go. I’ve felt – I don’t know what I’ve felt. Like there was something or someone out there.’ He scraped his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Now tell me I’m crazy.’

‘You’re crazy,’ Bobby said, obediently.
Or so desperate to give Kaz Elmore back her little girl, you’re clutching at fog.
‘Can you nail down anything particular that’s been off?’

‘I
 
… no
 
…
 
’ Devlin stopped. ‘Nothing.’

‘Except?’ Bobby prompted, wondering if he’d get it. Or would Devlin blow him off? When it came, it wasn’t anything that he’d expected.

‘Something in that barn. It put me in mind of Luce.’

Bobby swore ripely. ‘Luce is dead.’

‘Did you ever see a body?’

‘Huh? Obsession
and
paranoia? You’ve got it bad, dude.’ Bobby rose and crossed to the small fridge beside the window. He took out two beers and handed one over.

Devlin slugged from the bottle, eyes narrowed. ‘It’s the paranoia that keeps you alive.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Bobby leaned a hip against the wall. ‘You’re thinking about that time in Austria. Murder made to look like suicide. Body found hanging – in a barn,’ he finished slowly.

‘Mmm.’ Devlin nodded. ‘That’s the one. Though I don’t recall you being there – not until the waking up in the hospital bit.’

‘I wasn’t, but your description was vivid and, as I recall, exceptionally profane.’ Bobby shook his head. ‘You’re bent out of shape on this one, buddy. Apart from being dead, how the hell would Luce be connected to Jeff Elmore?’

Devlin shrugged. ‘He can’t be. That’s why it’s paranoia.’

Bobby took a thoughtful pull at his beer. ‘Tell you what, if Luce isn’t dead and he finds out that
you’re
not
 
… Might be quite a party.’

‘I’ll get tickets printed.’ Devlin’s voice dropped. ‘I don’t think it would be a case of finding out I’m alive. If Luce is still out there, then he already knows.’

Chapter Nineteen

Devlin leaned into the car, took a gulp from the lukewarm bottle of water and dropped it back on the seat. He and Bobby had been on the road three days, working out of Atlanta, tracking Elmore’s movements. At least, that was the theory. So far they had zip, and one small town was beginning to blur into another. And this was the last day. O’Hara and the rest of the crap were still on hold. Waiting.

Across the street a gleaming sign welcomed him to the Happy Days Motel. Was this the fourth Happy Days, or the fifth? He’d lost count. This one looked like it might live up to its name. Clean and well kept. His cell phone juddered against his thigh. He pulled it out and stabbed the button. ‘Yeah?’

‘You got anything?’ Bobby was working the other side of town. In about an hour of motels, hotels and guesthouses, they were going to meet in the middle of Main Street.

‘Nah. You?’

‘Two maybes and the phone number of a laundry maid who thinks I’m cute.’

Devlin snorted. ‘Anything with the maybes?’

‘Not really. One of them was a hotel coffee shop. Waitress thought that Elmore had breakfast there a couple of times. Left a big tip. Couldn’t be sure if there was anyone with him. Too long ago.’

‘The tip sounds like Elmore.’ Devlin sighed. ‘Got to go. See ya.’

‘I’m sorry, sir – the motel’s records
 
–’

‘I don’t want to see your records. All I need is a yes or no.’ Devlin laid four photographs on the reception desk. ‘Have you seen any of these people before?’ Devlin was expecting the no. He wasn’t listening to the mouth, he was watching the eyes.

The quick, blessed flash of recognition, told him everything.

‘No. Sorry.’ The clerk began to sort papers under the desk.

‘Too bad. Thanks for looking.’

He found what he wanted outside unit twenty-four. A maid’s cleaning cart. A small, olive-skinned boy was sitting on the floor beside it. Even better. Devlin hunkered down.

‘Your mamma – she’s inside, cleaning up?’

Cautious nod.

‘You come to work with her, every day?’

Wariness. Another nod, less certain.

Devlin reached in his pocket for the photos. ‘Did you see any of these people, when you were with your mamma? Did they stay here?’

He fed over the photographs, one by one. His heart speeded up when he got a nod for Elmore, and a nod for Gemma. He was palming the picture of Jamie, when there was a clatter behind him. ‘Paolo, what are you – oh!’

‘Sorry to startle you, ma’am.’ Devlin was on his feet and turned in an instant towards her, smiling. ‘Just asking your boy a few questions. No trouble.’

‘What questions?’ Her eyes, the mirror of her son’s, were balanced between anger and alarm. ‘I don’t bring him to work before. This first time
 
–’

‘It’s okay.’ Devlin dammed the flow of justification with an open-handed gesture. An open hand with a twenty-dollar bill in it.

The bill disappeared. Devlin explained the photos and produced them. The maid shuffled through them, her face lighting up. ‘This
Señor
and
Señora
Elmore.’ She sighed as she looked at the photographs. ‘Two beautiful little girls, one so dark the other so fair, like an angel. A nice family. They stay here five days.’

‘Five days? Both kids? They were staying there as a family?’ Bobby whistled. They were sitting in the local diner. Bobby was inhaling a burger and fries. Devlin nursed a cup of black coffee.

‘According to the maid. End of September. Before they moved to the motel near the accident site, that the Sheriff checked out. She remembered them because her kid played with the two girls. Got upset when they left.’

‘But that’s
 
–’ Bobby shook his head, baffled. ‘They must have known they were harbouring a runaway.’

‘Had to,’ Devlin agreed. ‘Plus the timing is off.’

‘Five days,’ Bobby mused. ‘Looks like I may have to be paying another visit to Luanne Cheska.’

Devlin nodded. ‘Looks that way.’ He grimaced. ‘You know that bad feeling I’ve been getting?’

‘Don’t tell me.’ Bobby rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just gotten a whole lot worse?’

Bobby stood at the entrance to the bar, letting his eyes get accustomed to the gloom. From the jukebox a country-and-western singer that he couldn’t identify was wailing about her cheating man. A familiar bar-room haze, years of old smoke and stale booze, came to envelop him. He identified his quarry in the mirror over the bar. She looked up as he slid onto the stool beside her.

‘Beer,’ he ordered as the barman came over. ‘And whatever the lady’s drinking.’

‘That would be club soda. Don’t forget the slice of lime,’ she added, as the barman looked towards her. The barman grinned, and gave her the finger. Luanne grinned, and gave it back.

She swivelled around in her seat. ‘Do I know you?’ She studied him. ‘You were the guy that came asking questions about my daughter.’ A small spasm flickered across her eyes when Bobby nodded. ‘Never forget the cute ones, even when I’m drunk. I was pretty damn drunk that day, wasn’t I? Go on,’ she prompted, when Bobby hesitated. ‘I can take it.’

‘Yeah,’ Bobby drawled. ‘You were.’

‘Eddie’d just walked out on me. That and Sally Ann.’ Her hand tightened on her glass. ‘I’m not drunk now. Threw away the bottle right after you left and haven’t touched a drop since. Must have been your reforming influence.’ She nodded thanks as the barman set a fresh drink in front of her. ‘You got a name, cute guy?’

Bobby told her. She repeated it, rolling it round her mouth as Bobby studied her, with a small feeling of shock. The heavy make-up was gone. The platinum hair was fastened away from her face, spilling down her back in a long fall, and while the plain pink dress didn’t exactly disguise the lush figure beneath, it didn’t throw it in his face either. He felt an unexpected stirring in his belly. Without the stale paint and provocative clothes, Luanne Cheska was an attractive woman. More than attractive.

‘You moved out of the trailer park.’ He’d started there, before trying the bars.

‘The trailer was Eddie’s. Gone back to my own place, in town. Apartment the size of a dog kennel.’ She sighed. ‘It’s clean and it’s cheap. Got my job back, too. Waitress.’ She indicated the dress. Looking closer, Bobby could see it was a uniform coverall. ‘I can do that you know, Bobby Hoag. Clean up my act. I reckon my little girl is dead. Least I can do for her memory is get myself straightened out.’ Her mouth puckered. ‘A bit late, but what the hell.’ She slanted him a sideways look. ‘Men, they’re my big problem. I’m a lousy picker, and I get restless. Sally Ann’s father now, should have tried harder with him. He was one of the good guys. Not as cute as you.’ She sipped her drink. ‘But cute enough. He was a keeper, and I was too dumb to know it. Why am I telling you this?’

‘I’ve got that kind of face?’

‘Maybe.’ She fiddled with her purse, lying on the bar. ‘You got more questions, ain’t you? About Sally Ann.’

Bobby took a chance. ‘I know she didn’t go missing when you said she did.’

‘No.’ Luanne’s mouth turned down. ‘It was before. Me and Eddie, we were, kinda out of it
 
… I don’t rightly know when Sally Ann took off. Maybe we can piece it together.’ She swivelled to look at him, full in the face. ‘You’re going to have to tell me why you want to know. No bullshit.’