5 Highball Exit Read online

  When Clay finally picked up I gave him the good news, telling him Aunt Kay was making our late mortgage payments. “This will keep us alive until Thanksgiving.”

  “But I don’t understand what she wants from you.”

  “She just wants me to drive her around a bit.”

  “It isn’t dangerous, is it?”

  “Naw. I’m going to drive her around and wait while she talks to people. I can carry on almost as if I was at the Sunset. Talking of dangerous, what is Laura Kemp doing in Cedar Key?”

  The silence was so loud it was deafening. Clay said, “Don’t go jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

  “I haven’t jumped anything. I hope you can say the same.” There was a choking sound but before he could yell I kept going. “And I haven’t concluded anything except that the fact Laura Kemp is in Cedar Key hasn’t gone unnoticed. People are starting to talk about us in the past tense.”

  His voice rose in protest, or maybe outrage. “She’s decorating the model suite for me.”

  “Just make sure that’s all she does for you.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was going up there?”

  “If you’re not jealous, why do you care?”

  Some truly rude comments came to mind. While I sorted through them for the most choice, Clay said, “Look, I didn’t want to upset you.”

  I started to speak but he interrupted. “I know, I know, you couldn’t care less, but still, you and Laura have a little history.”

  “A little history? More like our own civil war, not that it’s ever been very civil.”

  “See what I mean? Just let it go. Laura’s been great. She brought lots of her own stuff and has done a fantastic job. Plus, she’s been helping to wine and dine these guys from the North who are going to save my bacon. And . . .”

  “Stop,” I shouted before he could sing any more of her praises. “She’s so sweet I may throw up.”

  “See, there you go.”

  “You’re right. Here I go.” I hit End and then turned off my cell. It didn’t matter. Clay wouldn’t be calling back. Judging from past conversations like this it might be several days before one of us broke down and called.

  Bugger! I wished I’d gotten some money out of Aunt Kay. Maybe I could talk her into paying half upfront. Then at least, if everything went for a dump, I’d have something. My mind played with the math. I could make a lot of suppliers happy and pay off a little on the mortgage. Maybe if I showed her I was trying I might be able to convince her to hand over a check.

  I called Dan Raines. As I listened to the phone ringing, I worried that if Aunt Kay had time to think about her offer to me she’d change her mind. I should have gotten a check even if it was postdated.

  “Hello,” Shelly Raines said. I stumbled over telling Shelly my name and that I wanted to talk to Dan.

  Dan’s folks still lived in Jacaranda. They’d brought Shelly and Dan into the Sunset just the month before to celebrate Dan’s birthday, but Dan and I hadn’t really seen each other since high school.

  “Dan worked the midnight shift,” she said, easy and friendly and not at all curious why this woman she barely knew would want to come to her house and talk to her husband. “He’s still sleeping. Come by about eight. Dan will be up by then.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Gwen Morrison, our hostess, wasn’t the only member of staff who wasn’t available that Sunday night. My bartender also didn’t make it in. It’s pretty sad when even the staff gives up on you, but to be fair there weren’t enough people in the place to make it worth his time.

  I slipped behind the bar and listened to the woes of the few drinkers who did show up. Sometimes I think the only thing that brings customers up in the little elevator is the lure of having someone to talk to when they get to the top. Maybe it’s no more than my blank expression, which they mistake for rapt attention, but people seem to confide in me, to trust me enough to dump all over me. For that privilege they’re willing to buy overpriced alcohol. Recently, though, I’ve thought about getting a sign that says DON’T TELL ME YOUR PROBLEMS OR I’LL BE FORCED TO RECIPROCATE, but I figure it wouldn’t add much to the ambiance.

  And most nights other people’s mistakes and bad decisions make for great entertainment. Not that night. That night a worm of worry was eating its way through my heart. Just the thought of losing Clay made tears well up.

  I slipped into the kitchen to check on Miguel, who was in charge while Isaak was away. Miguel had everything under control. I was about to leave the kitchen when I turned back and asked, “Do you remember a waitress named Holly Mitchell?”

  He didn’t look up from plating an order. “Si, pretty little thing.” His hand made a round motion in front of his stomach. “Very pregnant last time I see her.” He looked up. “Crazy to think of that one being a mother . . . she may forget to feed it.” He put three finished plates onto the high counter in front of him and hit a pager to summon a waitperson.

  “When was this, when did you see her when she was pregnant?” He turned and gave orders to a helper before he considered myquestion. “We were in Sarasota for my niece’s first communion, before Christmas.” He turned away, a steaming pan already in his hand.

  The bar had more lonely people in it than normal that night, all of them making me crazy. Brian Spears came in just in time to save my sanity. Before either of us spoke I took down a bottle of Famous Grouse and showed him the label. He nodded. When I set the scotch in front of him, he lifted his glass to me and offered his usual toast. “Success to temperance.”

  I picked up the glass I had beneath the counter. “And to abstinence.” His first sip was followed by a contented sound and then he said, “Wait until you hear this, Sherri. According to your Uncle Ziggy, your father has a new girlfriend.”

  “Well, that just proves hope never dies. I must take after my old man after all.”

  “I have to say, your family is definitely entertaining.”

  “We aim to please.”

  The cash register pinged. I read the bar order and opened a bottle of red wine and set it on a tray with four glasses. “All of us Jenkinses like to keep things interesting.”

  “You always do that.” Brian was not only my lawyer but also a longtime friend. He knew all about my folks, the ins and outs of family relationships and—from Ziggy’s fire to the attack on the ranch by the local crazy—he’d been involved in more than one of our disasters.

  “So who is the new girlfriend?” Brian asked.

  “If Uncle Ziggy doesn’t know, I sure don’t.” I delivered the wine to the wait station and came back to lean on the bar in front of Brian. “Old fool. It’s bound to end badly—finish with tears and restraining orders.”

  He took an appreciative sip and made sounds of joy before going on with his story. “It’s become some kind of a game for those two old buzzards. Ziggy’s taken to sneaking up on Tully to figure out who it is your dad phones behind closed doors. Ziggy says it’s definitely someone in Jacaranda so it must be someone we know.”

  “Probably a married woman,” I said. “Dad likes it that way— they don’t get ideas.”

  “Ziggy tried tailing him into town but Tully cottoned on to him, turning off his headlights and tearing off down a dirt road. They played tag in the dark like teenagers before Ziggy lost him.”

  Brian was grinning like a fool as he tipped his glass at me. “You are a shining member of one crazy clan.”

  “Show a little respect. It took two hundred years of inbreeding to arrive at our level of stupidity.”

  Brian jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the dining room. “I think it’s one of your waitresses. Your dad took a keen interest in Maria at his birthday dinner.”

  “My father takes a keen interest in any female wh
o comes within sniffing distance. It was about the only thing my parents had in common, an overwhelming interest in the opposite sex. It kept their lives interesting, deciding which one was currently misbehaving.”

  Brian lowered the glass halfway to his lips. “Do you suppose Ruth Ann is back in town?” He answered his own question. “No, we’d all know if your mother was back. So who is it?”

  “Why would I know, or care? My dad’s life is his problem. I have enough troubles of my own.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Dan Raines and his wife, Shelly, lived at the south end of Sarasota, about forty-five minutes north of Jacaranda.

  Dan was already in his police uniform when he opened the door. He was overly cheerful but his eyes were wary. He tried to pretend that it was completely normal for me to knock on his door at quarter after eight on a Sunday night, only hours after he found the body of someone we both knew, something we didn’t mention in front of Shelly.

  After Dan and Shelly showed me around their new townhome and I cooed over Hannah, Shelly went off to put their baby to bed. Dan and I went outside, taking drinks with us.

  The patio was a boxlike enclosure about ten by ten and stuffed with plants hanging on the wooden fence, a glass table with four chairs and a colossal barbeque shoved up against the fence. The smell of charred steak still lingered in the air.

  As a kid, Dan Raines had been what you might call plump. Kids, not so nice, called him fat up until he was about twelve. That’s when a big change happened to Dan. Around puberty the plumpness turned to muscle and the fireplug of a boy turned into a running back. It was the making of Dan. In high school, shining on both the football and wrestling teams, Dan went all the way to the state championships, and his self-confidence reflected his success.

  Now, sitting across from me, Dan looked like a guy meant to be in uniform. His thick auburn hair was cut short and his square jaw was clean shaven. Everything about his appearance said upright and dependable, a man you could trust with your life.

  The air conditioner hummed beside us but still I glanced up the side of the house to make sure all the windows were closed against the sweltering night. I didn’t want Shelly to overhear Dan and me talking about Holly.

  I watched Dan’s face for a reaction and said, “Holly Mitchell is dead.”

  Dan sat up straighter. “Really? I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “Comes as a surprise to you, does it?”

  “Well, yes, of course. What happened?”

  “It seems she committed suicide.”

  “Too bad.” He frowned. “She was usually pretty happy when she was a kid, although given the kind of person she became, perhaps it isn’t unexpected.”

  “Why? What had she become? What was there about her that would lead to this?”

  “She was a dipstick.” Dan ran a hand over the kinked remnants of his curls. “She never stopped dreaming, never faced reality. How did she get like that?”

  “How did you get to be a cop?”

  Dan gave a soft snort of amusement, or perhaps disgust. “I never meant to be a cop. I was headed for law school, but I didn’t like being caged in an office with books all day. I wanted action.” With a wry smile he said, “It turns out policing is more like being a babysitter for adults who make really dumb choices. I thought it would be more about figuring out things and helping people, but it’s more like telling a drunk, ‘No, sir, you can’t piss in that fountain,’ or, ‘No, lady, you can’t drive on the sidewalk.’ Adults doing really stupid things make up 95 per cent of my job.”

  “Mine too.” He grinned. Then he said, “How can Holly be dead?”

  Dan wasn’t really expecting an answer. It was more like he was exploring the whole idea of Holly being lifeless. He planted his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees, studying the concrete slabs beneath his feet.

  I waited.

  Finally he lifted his head and said, “Did you drive all the way up from Jac just to tell me Holly is gone?”

  “Yeah, that’s about it.” I took a sip of my beer. “There’s a big difference in age between you and Holly, nearly ten years. How come you knew her so well?”

  “We lived next door to each other. Back then the grade school kids and the high school kids took the same school bus.” He pushed the soda can away from him. “Remember? We all rode together in the same white-roofed bus going over the north bridge to school in Jacaranda. Coming home, Holly and I both got off at the corner before you.”

  His handsome face screwed up in some kind of emotion I couldn’t read. “She always wanted to walk home with me but I’d run ahead. I hated it when she spoke to me on the bus. It was embarrassing. I got teased for it. I told her over and over not to talk to me. I was kinda mean to her.”

  As I remembered it, I’d treated Dan just about the same. A year or two younger than me, in high school I never wanted to hang out with him or even acknowledge him in the halls. He was just a kid, a nuisance with all his eager enthusiasm.

  “So you didn’t expect this from Holly?” I reached out and touched the drop of condensation sliding down my beer bottle. “Expect her to kill herself?”

  He shook his head slowly. “She was always so optimistic, absolutely convinced that things were about to be wonderful.”

  “I could use a little of that. These days, I tend to expect the worst.” I tilted up the Budweiser and then asked, “When did you see her last?”

  He shrugged. “It’s been ages.”

  “Aunt Kay said Holly was crazy about you and always kept in touch.”

  He glanced up at me and frowned. “Not so much anymore, not since I got married.”

  “Didn’t Shelly like it? I mean, didn’t Shelly like you hanging out with Holly?”

  “I didn’t hang with Holly, and ’sides it has nothing to do with Shelly.” His voice was sharp. “The last time we saw Holly she had purple hair and was strung out on something. Shelly pretty much felt sorry for Holly the few times they met.”

  “So when was that, when did you see her last?”

  “About a year ago. Like I said, I haven’t really seen her since I got married.” Dan was brushing off my idle questions with answers he hadn’t really thought out. He had been married pretty close to three years, but I didn’t bother pointing out this disconnect in his story.

  If he’d been the one to find Holly’s dead body, he was over it. Or maybe there was another reason he was distancing himself from Holly.

  I set the bottle on the table. “Don’t shit me, Dan. The cops told Aunt Kay that an Officer Raines was first on the scene and found the body. You knew she was dead before I showed up on your doorstep.”

  He opened his mouth to deny it, but read my face and thought better of it. “Don’t tell. I don’t want it to come out that I was any more than the cop on duty when the call came in. There’s no need for anyone to know.”

  “What don’t you want people to know, that you were bonking her, or that you had something to do with her death?”

  “Shit, Sherri.” His fist slammed the glass table. I reached out and caught my beer before it could fall. He looked around, afraid someone might overhear. He looked up at the house and then stood up to check that his neighbors weren’t outside. When he swung back to face me I could see the violence in him as he fought for control and searched for a lie.

  “No matter what you come up with I’m not going to buy it,”

  I said. “You had an affair with Holly. What was she, nineteen . . . twenty?”

  His mouth was an angry slit and his jawbone worked under his skin. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? What was it like? Did you push her around, beat her up? Aunt Kay said someone hurt her.”

  “It wasn’t me. Christ, how could you think that?”

  “So tell me what it was lik
e, Dan.”

  “It was stupid.” He breathed deeply and let it out slowly, forcing himself to calm down. “She was always so eager, so wanting to please, so . . .” He looked away. “It only lasted for a few weeks and then I found out that Shelly was pregnant. I really wanted a kid. We’ve been trying since we got married. Shelly went for tests and we knew it might not happen. But then she was pregnant. We were so happy.”

  “Tell me about Holly.”

  “I told Holly it was over. The thing with Holly didn’t mean anything.”

  Those were the words Jimmy always used when he begged me to take him back. “I’m sure it meant something to Holly.”

  He ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “She took it hard. I had to tell her again and again to stop calling and leaving me messages. Once, I came off shift and found a pink note stuck under my wiper blades. She just didn’t give up, didn’t get it. We were over. I never saw her again after the day I told her it was done.”

  “You mean you never saw her again while she was alive. Why didn’t you identify Holly instead of leaving it up to Aunt Kay? You could’ve done that without telling the cops anything more.”

  “I panicked. I can’t afford to be associated with Holly.” He leaned forward. “I could see bruising on her face. Someone had worked her over. She’d lost weight, didn’t look good. I think she’d really had a hard time of it in this last year.”

  I waited. “There’s something else. Don’t tell anyone, will you?”

  “No,” I lied.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Her cell was there on the table. I checked it. It had some messages on it.”

  He glanced at the house before he told me his ugly news. “They called back several times, getting more pissed with her each time. The messages were reminding her of a date. I checked the number. It was an escort service.”

  Dan picked up his soda and set it down again. “It wouldn’t do my career any good if my superiors found out I’d been involved with a sex worker. That’s why I couldn’t identify her.”