Chapter Fourteen

Morning arrived as an unwelcome guest, although the sounds of the morning crew prepping for lunch meant that she had slept later than she’d intended. The clank of dishes and glasses carried up the stairs, sounding almost as if Marty himself were leaning over her bed while she slumbered. She had no business sleeping in anyway, not with what had happened the night before.

She turned her face into her pillow and groaned quietly. She knew it was time to get her butt out of bed. Her nighttime meeting with Marissa crept to the forefront of her brain from the recesses of her memory. Her concern for Erin’s safety was also in her thoughts. Erin had promised to send her a text verifying she wasn’t in the trunk of Boxer’s mob mobile once he’d discovered his prize had escaped. Jamie reached over, her hand fumbling on the nightstand for her phone. Erin had sent a group message to both her and Cookie, saying she was okay for the time being and that Becky was by her side. The wrath of Boxer had not yet descended upon them. That knowledge buried itself in Jamie’s stomach, causing a brief moment of nausea to wash over her.

Jamie’s roommate snorted, momentarily interrupting her panicked thoughts. “Hey, Deuce.” She reached her hand over the edge of her bed to give him a rub behind the ears. He waddled over to the opposite side of her bed, and with agility that was unexpected from a stocky, slobbering dog, he hoisted himself up on her mattress with all the grace of a pig on roller skates. He landed in belly-flop position and stayed there. Jamie eyed her furry friend, surprised her portly companion didn’t snap his stubby legs in the process of making his way up on the bed. Deuce shoved his face into hers, snorting and nuzzling her tangled hair. He was a loving, albeit loud and grubby, roommate.

She rubbed her hand over Deuce’s head and scratched him behind his left ear. He growled a low bulldog purr, like a cat but with slobber.

Deuce had landed in her life by a combination of poker skill and a little luck during a Texas Hold ’Em tournament. One man had been so committed to the tournament that he’d actually put Deuce up as a bet. What a dumbass. Deuce was a full-bred English bulldog with papers; his monetary worth was estimated at about twelve hundred dollars. Wayne had lost that hand to Jamie, and she’d gladly taken the dog as partial payment, figuring any moron who was willing to bet a prized companion in a card game deserved to lose him.

She pulled herself up from bed. She needed clothes… clean clothes. When was the last time she’d done laundry? She reached over to a chair she used as a general clothes-dumping area and chose a pair of yoga pants—although she’d never done yoga in her life—and a tank top. She collected them to wear after her shower. While she would never admit it, Jamie often worked cases while standing in the shower. Something about the water falling over her face, the steam, and the absence of other distractions helped shake insights loose, ones she feared she would otherwise miss. She’d lost count of how many times she had taken showers explicitly for that purpose.

 

Jamie headed for the shower and took her time enjoying being pelted with hot water. Her mind turned over the events of the previous day, trying to make sense of all of it. She stood under the hot water until it turned cool. When she got out, she wrapped her hair in one towel and covered her body with a second one. With her hair still wet from the shower, she finished getting dressed just as her cell phone rang. She checked the number, took a deep breath, and decided to let it go to voice mail.

She tried to keep her kid sister, Grace, at a distance. The girl was trouble in a tight dress and manipulative beyond shame. She reminded Jamie of their mother. Her sister had, after all, learned at the high heels of a master.

Grace had a way of getting people to do things for her without directly asking. She would come to her target, lamenting her life’s difficulties, even using another person’s misery and twisting it to demonstrate how it affected her. Grace didn’t want to appear helpless, but close, as if she had just done so much for so many for so long that she couldn’t possibly take on one more thing.

But now the rules were different. Kristen was dead, and Jamie’s little sister shared some traits with her departed niece, such as the kind of behavior and decision-making skills that led her straight to trouble. As much as Jamie wanted to write off Grace’s phone call, she couldn’t do it. Kristen’s death had changed things. What if Grace really needed help this time, too?

Jamie’s phone rang again.

“Hello,” Jamie said, not acknowledging Grace’s identity.

“Hey, Jamie. It’s me.”

“Hi, Me. How are you doing?” She tried to keep the conversation light.

“Oh, I’m all right, I guess. How are you?”

Jamie never knew how to answer that question. She wanted to get her sister off the phone as quickly as possible. She had things to do. “I’m tied up with some cases right now and a little worn down, but other than that, I’m doing okay.”

“You sound different,” Grace said.

Jamie tried to pass it off. “I’m okay, just tired. Surveillance means not getting enough sleep sometimes. You know how it is.”

Grace giggled into the phone. “Yeah, my current job has me working nights. It’s like I sleep half the day now, and I’m all turned around. The world is so different at night, so much more alive, you know? I like it.”

Jamie wasn’t the least bit surprised by Grace’s revelation. “So, what are you doing now?”

She considered tossing a joke about her sister dabbling in the escort business but thought better of it… just in case it was true. If it was, she didn’t want to know about it. Plausible deniability and all that.

“Oh, I’m working at Firefly Rouge on the Strip,” Grace said. “It’s this fantastic upscale restaurant and night club.”

Jamie resisted making a quip about table dances and tips. She knew it was a sore spot with Grace, who viewed herself as far more upper-end than the rest of her relations.

“Oh, really? What do you do there?”

“I’m the hostess on the ten-to-five shift. It took me a good week to get used to it, but I’m on the reverse schedule now. It’s a really nice place. You should fly up here and visit.”

“I’m not planning on coming to Vegas anytime soon. It’s really not my scene.”

“It used to be,” Grace teased.

Jamie clenched her jaw, reminding herself to parse her words with caution. “I know. Used to be. Past tense.”

“Well, it’s probably for the best. It’s not like you want to lose ten grand again like last time. Probably better that you don’t have so many gambling opportunities there. Vegas is no place for addicts.”

Grace knew exactly which buttons to push, and Jamie couldn’t help but take the bait. “I know you aren’t calling me an addict since you’re the one who’s been through rehab three times.”

Grace quickly backpedaled. No doubt she had temporarily forgotten she was talking to her sister and not a mark. Jamie knew her secrets and was more than willing to call her on every one of them.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just know that you didn’t like being that out of control, that’s all.”

Jamie silently conceded that point. It had definitely been one of the lowest times in her young life. She still wished she could mentally erase that six-month period, not that she could remember all of it. And that was the worst part—the days that remained a mystery.

“No problem,” Jamie said. “I know you can’t help that things sometimes come out of your mouth like that.”

Her sister responded to her comment with silence.

Jamie continued. “So, to what do I owe this phone call? It’s been like a year or more since we talked.”

Grace’s voice became upbeat. “You know me. Never been good at keeping in touch with people. I was moving around. I was working up in Atlantic City for a while, and that was going pretty well until I realized that I didn’t like Jersey that much.”

Jamie translated her sister’s true meaning. Grace had moved because she’d scammed someone she shouldn’t have and they were out looking for her. That meant it was time to relocate.

“So, did you go back to Vegas to be with Mom and Dad?”

“They’re actually why I’m calling.”

Jamie sighed. She knew it. Grace was the only sibling who kept in contact with their parents. “I haven’t talked to them in a long time, Grace. I don’t even know where they are.”

Grace sighed then waited a beat. “That’s the problem. Dad doesn’t know where Mom is.”

“This is not the first time that’s happened.” Jamie’s scoff was unmistakable. “When she wants a break, she takes off. She turns up when she’s ready to work again.”

Grace sighed with force into the phone, as if she was trying to blow Jamie’s protest away.

Jamie did not want to get involved. She did not want to know. Well, possibly a small part of her did, and that small part was what always caused her crushing heartbreak. She hated to admit it, but even as a grown woman, she longed to have a mother she could depend on.

Finally, she relented. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, she said she was going to spend some time in Colorado visiting friends. She and Dad were going to meet up here for a job they were supposed to start last week, but she never showed. He can’t get ahold of her. She hasn’t called. Nothing.”

What is it with the women in my family just dropping off the grid on a regular basis? Always running from everything, even one another.

Jamie knew better than to be alarmed at this early stage. Their mother was notorious for her disappearing acts and dramatic reentries. It was how she convinced herself that she could still influence people. She would get them to worry, get them to search for her, then show up after she felt sufficient time had passed in which people would have missed her. It pissed Jamie off every time she did it, and each time, Jamie vowed not to get caught up in her games. But every time, she would falter and start to care—and regret it afterward.

Jamie rubbed at her temple to ward off a looming headache. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game she’s playing, but we both know that’s what she’s doing. Maybe she’s angry at Dad, and she’s making him pay for something.”

Yeah, like fathering another child through an affair.

“Grace, don’t trick yourself into believing that you actually understand anything about their marriage, because you don’t. None of us do.”

Grace took offense to this. “I know them better than you do. I still see them and spend time with them.”

“And work with them?”

Grace hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I work with them. And they still have it, just in case you’re wondering.”

Jamie reached for her temple and gave it a small press. “I’m not.”

“You’ve always been a skeptic, Jamie, but I know you. You use your con skills in your PI work. I know you do.”

“Yeah, but I’m not screwing people. I’m trying to help them, not steal money and leave town.”

“Jamie, I’m serious. You need to help us find Mom.”

She put the brakes on that idea immediately. “Did Dad do anything wrong?”

Grace paused. “Well, there might have been a cocktail waitress…”

“That’s it. She’s pissed, and she’ll show up when she needs more cash. She’s going to make him squirm a bit, like always.”

“Okay, I see your point.” Grace sighed into the phone. “I’ll give her a few days to see if she calls. Will you help me then if she doesn’t turn up?”

Jamie thought of Kristen. “Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “I’ll help you.” She then changed the conversation. “Have you heard from Brian lately?”

After a moment of silence, Grace said, “No, why? I really don’t have any reason to talk to him. Mom would kill me.”

Jamie decided to throw her baby sister a line to see if she would take the bait. “He asked me to help him find Kristen. Seems like lots of our family members are just dropping out of sight.”

“Oh.” More silence passed before Grace asked, “So did you find her?”

Jamie softened her response. “Yeah, we did.”

“What was she doing?”

Jamie waited for a moment before responding. She hated saying the words aloud. “She’s dead, Grace.”

Her sister gasped into the phone. Jamie couldn’t tell what Grace knew since the phone masked most of her tells, but Jamie hoped that if her misguided sibling did have any information, she would walk through the door Jamie had opened.

“That’s awful. I’m really sorry, Jamie. The last time I talked to her…” Grace’s voice trailed off, a silence more telling than she’d likely intended.

“The last time you talked to her… what?” Jamie asked.

“It was nothing, Jamie. She was excited about this guy. And she knew I would appreciate it.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Not much. Just that he was going to help her with something big and she couldn’t tell Brian about it because…”

“He would end it?”

Grace hesitated. “Yes. He never wanted her in a serious relationship.”

“Because he couldn’t control her anymore?”

“He needed her for his own work.”

Jamie understood the desire of a daughter needing her father’s approval all too well. “Let me know when Mom makes contact, okay? A text is fine. And don’t tell her I care because I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Stay out of trouble, Grace.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Jamie hit End on her phone, her little sister’s words still hanging in her thoughts.

She worried about Grace and her dependent nature, her need to be noticed by their parents even if it meant being used by them. Jamie could live without her family. Unfortunately, Grace couldn’t, which meant her future, like Kristen’s, would likely be paved with poor choices. And like Kristen, Jamie wouldn’t be able to save her, either.