Monday was usually a quiet night in Chicago. People stayed home and went to bed early to get the rest they’d lost over the weekend. With little traffic, Georgia and Jimmy sailed down to Lincoln Square in twenty minutes. They wolfed down their food on the way, Georgia trying to wipe up spilled ketchup from her burger and horseradish from Jimmy’s corned beef. A pleasant, if acrid, smell permeated the cruiser. They parked around the corner south of the square.
Callahan’s, one of two bars on the block, was apparently the more popular. The front entrance was festooned with arcs of twinkling Italian lights, and they could hear the jukebox playing a seventies hit, which indicated Callahan’s catered to more mature drinkers rather than young crazies. They went in and grabbed a booth. The lighting was muted, which reminded Georgia of the taverns in Lakeview she used to visit when she was drinking.
An attractive woman, who looked nothing like Georgia, came over and took their order for beers that Georgia wouldn’t drink. When she brought them, Georgia questioned the waitress.
“Hey. Do you know a server named Lisa who works here?”
“You know Lisa?”
Georgia nodded.
The waitress frowned. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“Why do you say that?”
The waitress hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. Then, “She missed her shift today.”
“What did she say when she called in?”
“She didn’t. Call in, that is.”
Jimmy and Georgia exchanged a glance. “Do you have any idea why she didn’t show up?”
She shook her head, then stared at Georgia. “Are you her sister? You look just like her.”
Georgia was getting tired of saying she wasn’t. “I’m not.”
The waitress shifted.
“What do you know about her?” Jimmy asked.
She shrugged. “She’s a really nice person. Just trying to get a break.”
What do you mean ‘trying to get a break’?” Georgia said. “She’s only been working here a week.”
“How do you know that?” The waitress said. “You sound like cops.” Her face showed her suspicion. Georgia wondered what her experience with them was.
“I’m a private investigator. It’s my job.”
“We’re on her side,” Jimmy said. “Sometimes cops are the good guys,” he continued. “But to answer you, yes. We are cops, and we think she may be in trouble.”
The waitress gazed at her, then at Jimmy. Maybe she’d decided they really were on her side. “People like her. There’s something nice about her. She kept to herself, but she was easy to talk to.”
“What were you going to say about ‘getting a break’?” Georgia asked.
“You know how you can tell someone’s been through a rough time? I sensed that about her.”
“Did she talk about it?”
“No. I just had a feeling.”
“Do you know where she lives?” Jimmy asked. “It can’t be too far from here.”
The waitress didn’t answer. Georgia recalled from her own cop days that there was a kind of secret sorority between women who were down on their luck. They looked out for each other.
Jimmy pulled out his badge. “Some bad people are after her. We want to find her before they do.”
Georgia added, “I’m no relation to Lisa. But several people have mistaken me for her. And someone tried to kill me recently. We think they thought I was her.”
The waitress’s voice went small. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“We understand,” Georgia said. “But do you know where we can find her?”
The waitress paused. She bit her lip. “I don’t.”
Georgia saw through it. “You don’t or you can’t?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. She was embarrassed about it.”
“Look,” Georgia pleaded. “She may be in serious trouble. Embarrassment is the least of her worries.”
“Her husband…” the waitress stopped.
Georgia nodded. “The person she ran away from…”
The waitress nodded. “Please don’t tell anyone. She was at a shelter for abused women. It’s not far from here. It’s called Ms. Kate’s.”
Jimmy pulled out a twenty and gave it to the waitress. “Thanks.”
She pocketed the bill. “You’re welcome. What are you going to do when you find her?”
“Try to keep her alive.”