Monk came over to Patty and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she responded with a long hug. Gayle, who was closest, flinched away.
No one said anything for a long time, and then Mike Sweeney walked up to Monk and gave him a long up-and-down appraisal. Monk stepped away from Patty and faced the big young cop. There wasn’t much that scared Monk, but this kid gave off all kinds of weird vibes. And even if there was something genuinely spooky about him—and Monk had his doubts—the kid looked like he could bench press a pickup truck, the way his biceps strained the shirt sleeves. And the hard and uncompromising look in the cop’s eyes, like he’d both been there and done that.
Even so, Monk stood foursquare, ready for any play. “You got something to say, Big Red?”
“I do,” said Mike, and he held out his hand. Monk stared at it for four full seconds before he took it and they shook.
“I … I don’t even know how to…” began Gayle, but lost her way and stopped talking.
“Okay, okay,” said Crow loudly, “we’re shocked and appalled and maybe if we all say a collective ‘what the actual fuck’ we’ll be able to get past the moment. No? Okay, take it as read, then.” He clapped his hands together, rubbed them vigorously. “So, how ’bout we figure out what we know about what we know? Sound good?”
“Sure, Chief,” said Monk. “You have an idea of where to start?”
“I do,” said Crow. “When each of you was telling your stories about how you lost your tattoos you very pointedly omitted one detail. Same detail for each of you, and I’m pretty surprised none of you mentioned it.”
“And what would that be?” asked Monk. “We know it’s this Lord of the Flies cocksucker.”
It was Gayle who answered. “No, Mr. Monk,” she said, “I know what he means. None of you said who took them.”
“I just said it was…” Monk’s voice trailed off. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Points to the teacher lady,” said Crow.
“School deputy administrator,” corrected Gayle.
“Sure. Patty, you lost yours first, right? At least as far as I can work out the chronology. Two days ago. And then Dianna the same day, and lastly Monk that night. That means our Fly Guy was in town on that day. For now we can eliminate Andrew Duncan, because he doesn’t actually know when he lost his, and he and his wife hadn’t ever been here before. They came here on a whim, doing some antiquing. Ditto for Joey Raynor and the homeless guy, Lester Moutan. So it’s you three. What we have to do is figure out who each of you has in common. A neighbor. Someone you met on the street. Could even be a mutual friend. Something like that.”
“Not a friend,” said Monk. “Only person in town I knew before I got here was Patty.”
“Then we need to find intersections in your day,” said Mike. “Ms. Trang, you know Dianna and you know Mr. Addison.”
“It’s just Monk, guys.”
“Dianna,” continued Mike, “when was the last time you were here in the shop?”
“Five or six days ago,” said Dianna. “I came in for a quick minute to see if I could schedule an appointment to get her opinion on changing my back tattoo. I have this island tribal thing that seemed really cool back in college, but I don’t have a connection to it anymore. We talked about what Patty could turn it into.”
“Was anyone else in the shop at that time?”
“No.”
“Did you still have your rose vine tattoo?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” asked Mike.
“Positive,” said Dianna, and Patty nodded.
“Besides,” said Monk, “first time I was ever in the shop was when I found Patty.”
“Dead end,” muttered Crow. “Patty, were you with Monk anywhere except here and the hospital?”
“No.”
“Monk, were you at the store where Dianna works?”
“Didn’t know she worked at a store,” said Monk.
“Another dead end.”
“That’s not going to work,” said Gayle. “Can you three remember when you first became aware you were missing your tattoos?”
Patty’s face flushed and she cut a look in the direction of her bedroom. “Here. I woke up drunk on the floor by my bed.”
“Yeah, for me,” said Monk, “I was at some bar. Jake’s Hideaway. That’s where I met Duncan. I noticed the tattoo once I was out on the street. I, um … heard Tuyet calling my name.”
“Fuck me,” murmured Crow. Gayle got her purse and fished inside for a plastic packet of tissues. Handed one to Patty and used another herself. Crow looked at Dianna.
“I was at work. I was doing readings and I kind of went loopy. I think that’s when it happened.”
Everyone looked at her.
“When you say ‘loopy’…” prompted Monk.
“Well,” said Dianna, “it was weird. I’d just finished a card reading for a client, but I must have blanked out because Ophelia, the lady I work for, told me that I had a client waiting and the time was wrong. My first client should have been nearly an hour before that. When I mentioned that to her, she said my first client had gotten his reading and left already. I don’t remember, though. Not a thing, really.”
Patty made a small sound and now the eyes shifted to her. “I … I had something like that, too. Before everything, you know, happened. I had a client in to have some work done. But after he left I couldn’t remember a thing about him, the ink, or … well, anything, really.”
Dianna glanced at Monk. “Did the same thing happen to you?”
Monk shook his head, then began pacing. Thunder rattled the windows and the lights flickered. “No,” he said slowly. “Not really. I didn’t lose a block of time as far as I know. But I could feel the memories leaving me. It’s hard to explain. I was very much in the moment with it.”
“Maybe it was because the memory you lost is special,” suggested Dianna. “Mystical, if I can use that word.”
“Mystical is right on the money,” said Monk, “and maybe you’re right. The memories I lost fought to stay with me. Tuyet fought.”
Gayle shivered. “Couldn’t you … um … just, y’know … ask the other ghosts? And, that is the freakiest sentence I’ve ever uttered.”
Monk smiled at her. “Oh, I wish I could, sis. That would make it all easier.”
“We’re nowhere,” complained Mike. “We don’t even know if this memory thief is a man or a woman.”
“It’s a man,” said Dianna and Patty at the same time.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because,” said Dianna, “when I had that vision, it was a man.”
“Describe it again,” suggested Crow. Dianna did and in greater detail than before. A very pale man, hairless, obscene.
“Pale as in white or albino?” asked Mike.
“A white man. I couldn’t see his face but I don’t think he’s older than forty. Not in good physical shape. And he has those awful fly tattoos.”
“Christ,” said Crow, snapping his fingers loud as a gunshot, “we’re being really dense here. Dianna, your client was a guy, you said, right? And Patty, so was yours. Did either of you touch him? Or did he touch you? Was there any physical contact of any kind?”
“I don’t usually touch my clients,” said Dianna. “I don’t want to interfere with their energy.”
“I wear gloves,” said Patty. “But … maybe he touched me. I kind of half remember something…”
Dianna licked her lips. “Yeah … maybe I do, too. Only it’s kind of gone. No, that’s not right. It’s like I’m remembering something from a long time ago. A kind of faded memory, if that makes sense.”
“It might,” said Monk. “If a memory is being taken, then the clarity of it would diminish, right? It’d fade back, like it was old. But really it’s just leavin’.”
Gayle shivered. “God almighty…”
Mike asked, “Do either of you have credit card receipts? Or a scheduling book?”
Patty shook her head. “That was a walk-in, I’m sure of it.” She checked her credit card app, but there was no sale that day. “He must have paid in cash.”
Dianna chewed her lip. “You know, Ophelia prints out my client list every day. She keeps them, too, so she can work out what to pay me.”
“We need that list,” said Monk. “When does the store open?”
“Not until ten tomorrow.”
Monk looked at the wall clock. It was three in the morning. “I don’t want to wait seven hours.”
“I have a key,” said Dianna, grabbing her purse and digging out a key ring. “I use it for whenever Ophelia asks me to open, like if she has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Outstanding,” said Crow. “Mike, why don’t you go with her?”
“On it, boss,” said the big cop. He and Dianna put on their coats and hurried out.