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Authors: Phyllis Smallman

5 Highball Exit (7 page)

BOOK: 5 Highball Exit
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“It’s probably a waste of time.”

“Nevertheless, I’ve paid for a week of your time and paid well.”

I held my tongue and tipped up the water bottle while I waited for traffic to clear.

Aunt Kay said, “We need to go to that escort agency.” I spewed water all over the windshield.

CHAPTER 15

“Escort services are really . . .” I searched for nice words. “Well, pretty much prostitution.”

“Yes, I figured that out.” Aunt Kay wiped her face and upper chest with a fresh tissue. “What’s the name of this escort service?”

“Angel Escort Agency.”

“Angel . . . You don’t suppose . . . ?”

“That occurred to me.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem possible but let’s just go see them and find out what we can about Holly.”

“There wasn’t an address, just a telephone number.”

She thought it over. “I guess they don’t take walk-in customers. Just send girls out.”

“There’s no way to find them without an address.”

Aunt Kay solved that problem in no time at all. “Call them and say you’re looking for a job. They’ll want to see you before they hire you. They’ll need to tell you what to do and everything.”

“You want me to pretend to be a prostitute?”

“No, no, just . . . well . . . I don’t know. Just pretend to be interested. I’m going with you so it will be safe.”

“Oh, that makes me feel loads better. And arriving at an interview for a job as a hooker, with my auntie by my side to protect me, will be a first for them. It’ll have them rolling on the floor with laughter.”

Switching gears, I said,“Let’s tell the cops Holly had a baby. Where’s that card the cop gave you? Let’s call him now.”

“Do you think they’ll be interested in what happened to the baby if no crime has been committed? I tried yesterday to tell them about Angel. They’re only making sure it was a suicide. After that they had no further interest in Holly.”

“But pretending . . .”

“Please, Sherri.”

“How many ways can this go wrong?”

“If you weren’t going to go see them, why did you look them up on the Internet?”

“Curiosity.”

“Pffft.” It was a sound of absolute disbelief.

“Look, Aunt Kay, there’s no doubt about what Holly was doing. The prices were there, by the hour or for all night. These aren’t nice places.”

“I’ll try not to die from shock on you. It’s the only way we can find out about that side of Holly’s life.”

She held out her hand. “Where’s the number? I’ll make the call if you can’t.”

“How do you know I have the number?”

“You looked it up, didn’t you? Were you going there by yourself?”

“No way. I was going to give it to Dan.”

“He already knew about the agency, had the number off of Holly’s phone. You used to lie better.”

After a minute she said, “Do you think he’ll go check it out?”

“Nope.”

“So, you were going there alone.” She reached over and patted my arm. “Make the call and stop trying to protect me.”

“Whoopee, I wanted to pick up some extra money. I just didn’t know it was going to be as an escort.” I retrieved the crumpled paper from my jeans pocket.

When the guy on the phone asked how old I was, I lied. “Twenty-four.”

He agreed to see me and gave me an address in a strip mall off Bee Ridge Road on the east side of Sarasota.

When we got there, I tried to back out.

Aunt Kay said, “Oh, stop being such a baby. What can possibly go wrong?”

Right then and there I should have pushed her out onto the pavement and driven away . . . fast.

CHAPTER 16

The escort agency was in a small brick building over a pizza store. The guy on the phone said to take the side entrance to the second floor, go down the hall past the modeling agency and photography studio to the end of the corridor and knock on the door of
204
.

I tried to talk Aunt Kay into waiting in the truck but she kept insisting she was going with me.

At the door the stenciled name of the photo studio jogged my memory. “The last time I saw Holly was at Sarasota Mall last January. She was on the way to have pictures taken.”

Aunt Kay’s mouth turned down in a disapproving frown. “Photos cost her a small fortune over the years.”

“She said something about a good omen.”

“Holly was always talking some nonsense about omens and signs.”

Inside the door Aunt Kay stopped dead and looked at the steep flight of stairs. “Oh,” she said.

“I may want to get out of there in a hurry if things go wrong,” I said. “It’s better if you stay here. There’s a bench in front of the pizza place.”

She turned her sad and bewildered face to me. “But I don’t want you to go alone.”

I dug out my phone and opened it. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes you can call the cops, okay?”

She nodded, happier now that she was protecting me, but I wasn’t at all certain she knew how to use a cell phone.

There was no name on the solid wood door. When no one answered my knock, I tried the door. It was locked.

A wave of relief washed over me. I was turning away and already planning my excuses to Aunt Kay when I heard the click of the catch. The door opened a crack. I could see it was still on a chain. I looked into the void of the open door and then I lowered my gaze.

The man I was looking down on read my surprise and gave me a look that I was guessing meant, “Eat shit and die, bitch.” What he said was, “What do you want?”

“I’m Sherri. I just called you,” I said in case he forgot.

“Yeah, I remember,” he replied. “I also remember you said you were twenty-four.”

“Yeah, well, I was once.”

He closed the door and took off the chain and I stepped inside, into a room that reeked of pine air freshener.

I watched the guy walk back to his desk. He was about eight inches shorter than me, making him about four foot eleven in his snakeskin cowboy boots, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in attitude.

“My name is Cal Vachess and I run the Angel Escort Agency.” He was ruggedly handsome but his hands and his head looked oversized for his height. My mind, always ready to take a roll in the muck, wondered what other parts of him were normal size.

Something in my face must have betrayed my thoughts, perhaps I smiled, or perhaps he was just real good at knowing what people were thinking, but the look he gave me set my knees to wobbling. Then he flexed his shoulders, making his jacket bulge open to reveal a handgun in a leather shoulder holster.

Pity the jerk that treated Cal Vachess as a small amusement. My smirk was definitely gone even before he lifted the edge of his white linen jacket to show off the pistol a little better, just in case I’d missed it the first time. I was betting he let everyone know he was carrying so his size would no longer matter, a gun being a great equalizer. Everything about this guy said he was ready to back up the talk with the walk.

I looked away.

Circus prints covered the walls behind the oak desk. Southwest Florida was the winter home for the circus and the Ringlings built their estate on Sarasota Bay, making Sarasota a big circus town. You can find memorabilia all over the place.

The wall next to me was hung with black-and-white autographed photos of circus stars, from the high-wire to animal acts. I figured the tiny clowns, peeking out of a miniature fire truck, were more family history than souvenirs.

“So you’re looking for a job,” he said.

The desk held a notebook computer and two cell phones. That was it. No copier. No printer. It was a stripped-down paperless office, one that could be run out of a vehicle or shut down in a heartbeat.

I shook my head. “I want to ask you about a girl who worked for you.”

“I’m not in the business of doing favors.”

“I’ll pay for information.”

He jerked a thumb at a wooden chair. “Tell me what you want to know and I’ll tell you how much it’s going to cost you.”

He sat in a high-back leather chair that made him look like a kid playing Daddy. He grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled himself up to it. “So, who are you interested in?”

“Her name was Holly Mitchell. She died Saturday night.”

“The cops have already been here.” He pointed to the door. “I got nothing for you so take off.” He picked up a cell, flicked it open and thumbed the screen.

“The police think it was suicide. Why did they come here?”

“Ask them.”

“I thought you were in the business of selling information.”

“I don’t have anything more for you. I have calls to make.” His eyes went back to the screen.

“Holly was important to her family. I just need to know why she took her life. Her aunt needs to understand; she had to identify her as next of kin.”

“Whatever happened to her had nothing to do with me. She hadn’t even started working for me.”

“You mean she worked somewhere else, a different agency?”

“No, I mean she had a full-time gig.”

“Do you know who it was with . . . this full-time thing?”

“I’m not interested in past history. She was just one more bimbo. They come and they go. I don’t have time to talk to them.” He motioned to the door with the cell phone and said, “And I don’t have time for you either.” He was already accessing a number on his cell.

I stood up and took two steps towards the door. “Did Holly tell you she had a baby?”

His head jerked around to face me. “What?”

“A baby. Her name is Angel.” His eyes changed. “No shit?”

“Holly never told you?”

“Never.”

“Strange, she told people everything. Not good at secrets, our Holly. She always confided in people, even the wrong ones.”

His jaw hardened. “Well, she didn’t confide in me. I hardly knew her, so if that’s all you got, goodbye. I got work to do.”

I was opening the door when he said, “Too bad you didn’t come through that door ten years ago. I could have used you. You’re too old now.”

I looked over my shoulder at him and laughed.

An answering smile lit his face. “Tell you what, we still get a few old guys who aren’t as particular.” He flicked a card across his desk in my direction. “If you want to pick up a little cash give me a call.”

“Do they bring their own nurses? I don’t do potty duty.” And now he laughed. “See you around.”

I sincerely hoped not but before I could feel relieved that it was over, the overpowering smell of expensive cologne filled my nose and a large man blocked the door.

His face was so much like Cal Vachess’s they could have been twins, but this guy towered over me.

CHAPTER 17

“Hello there,” he said with exaggerated warmth and slid forward until his face was way too close to mine.

I edged away but he moved closer, filling the void I’d created between us. My shoulder was up against the door jamb. I was trapped. Even if his nearness hadn’t made me uncomfortable, his breath would have driven me back. I tilted my head away from the overwhelming scent of decay.

Perfectly tanned and looking like a male model, he was wearing a pink polo shirt, crisp khaki shorts and boat shoes with no socks. In his left ear was a diamond stud to match the diamond ring on his right hand, which he had planted on the door frame by my left ear.

“Hey, I know you, don’t I?” he said. I kept my face turned, my head tilted to the floor. “Nope.”

“Sure I do.”

Behind us Cal said, “She’s just on her way out, Ryan.” And then he added, “Goodbye.”

“Ignore my brother.” Ryan took my face in his hand and turned my head back to face him. I tried to turn away but his strong fingers held me fixed there. The intensity of Ryan’s stare was unbearable, assessing me like he would a new purchase.

“If I don’t know you, I’m certainly going to.” He pressed his body up against mine.

“She’s just leaving,” Cal said.

Ryan ignored Cal and studied me, his forehead creasing, before he asked, “Really, come on now, aren’t you someone I know?”

This guy was as high as a kite. Now call me a prude, but it was like the middle of a Monday morning. Even I knew Monday mornings are all about sobriety.

“Who do you know?” I asked.

“I know everyone,” he said, exhaling a foul smell into my face. “Everyone.” He wasn’t high on alcohol.

“Then you’re right. If you know everyone, you know me.” He grinned with delight. “I knew it.”

“But I don’t know you,” I said.

He stuck his hand in between our shoulders for a shake. “Ryan Vachess. How can I . . .” He paused before adding, “ . . . be of service?” And he meant the word
service
.

“Goodbye,” Cal said loudly, shoving me out the door with his right hand as he pulled Ryan inside with his left.

Without ever looking at Cal, Ryan pushed him backwards, sending his brother crashing into the wall. Then Ryan reached out and recaptured my face in his hand, pulling me towards him by my jaw while moving my face from side to side, his eyes fixed on me, focused and intent.

I fought the urge to slap his hand away.

Cal recovered and said, “Get in here, Ryan. We have work to do.”

“In a minute,” Ryan said. His eyes never left my face. “Greatbones. I can do wonderful things with them; get the lighting just right . . . haunting. I’m going to shoot in black and white. When do we start?”

“Did you take the pictures of Holly? You made her look real nice. Not like she normally looked at all.”

He laughed. “No one comes to me to look normal, honey. I create the secret someone they always wanted to be . . . their inner fantasy. Holly Dolly was born to serve and submit, while you . . . well, you’re something more interesting. You, I’ll do in leather, the full treatment, whip, thigh-highs, all black and catlike. A predator.” He growled at me.

“Ryan, shut up. She isn’t here for that.”

Ryan reached for my left hand. “No ring, so it isn’t a bedroom shot for hubby. Are you coming to work for us?”

Cal’s hand locked around his brother’s forearm and he jerked Ryan into the office. Cal turned back to me and said, “Get out of here now.”

I didn’t move fast enough so he gave me a little push. I was barely out of the way when he slammed the door.

I went about ten feet down the hall before I stopped. I really wanted to know what they were talking about.

I tiptoed back to the varnished brown door and then leaned into it, straining to hear. Nothing.

There was the sound of a phone ringing but I couldn’t make out another thing until there was a crash.

Cal’s voice came through clearly now. “You stupid fuck. Get the hell out of here.”

Before I could move, the door was jerked open. Cal stared at me. “What do you want now?”

The ice in his voice froze my brain. I couldn’t think. I looked just beyond him to Ryan.

“It’s me. She wants me.” Ryan gave me a reptilian smile of joy and pointed a finger at me. “I told Cal you came looking for me.”

Ryan started for the door but Cal held out his arm to stop him. “I said, ‘What do want?’” Cal’s outstretched arm held Ryan away from me.

“My keys?” My heart was pounding. “I forgot my keys.” Cal looked down at my hand and right at my keys.

“Oh,” I said. Cal said, “Was there anything else?”

“Stupid of me. Sorry.”

Behind him Ryan slapped at Cal’s hand and said, “Oh, she wants me . . .”

Before Ryan could finish Cal catapulted into action, slamming the door to
204
.

I stared at the door in shock. I could hear them now, yelling and cursing at each other.

Their anger jolted me into action and I sprinted down the hall. I flew out the door.

Aunt Kay’s eyes opened in surprise and she rose from the bench. I motioned to her. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

A hard sun beat down and heat radiated back off the concrete—it had to be a hundred degrees. “Hurry,” I said.

Aunt Kay couldn’t wait until we were in the truck; she wanted to hear everything word for word and she wanted it right then.

“Don’t talk.” It was a day to move quickly from air conditioning to more air conditioning, but quick wasn’t one of her dance steps. When we made it to the truck she demanded to know everything.

“I think Cal takes care of the escort service and Ryan looks after the modeling agency. He takes the sexy pictures that wives give to their husbands and does portfolios for models.”

“And they get girls for their escort service that way?”

“Probably.”

“I bet this Ryan convinced Holly that he could make her famous, that posing for nasty pictures was just a step on the road to success. Didn’t Marilyn Monroe start out that way? She did those calendars. You remember. There was one where she was stretched out on red satin. She was famous for that picture. I can see how Holly would fall for Ryan’s line.”

Her breath was coming in pants.

I said, “This is too much for you. You should be home resting and getting your strength back.”

She scowled at me. “You trying to slack off on me?”

“No, but I am a little worried you might die on me.”

“You let me worry about that.”

She fanned her face and took a few breaths before she went on. “That Ryan passed me as he was going in. He didn’t look well to me.”

“He spends too much time on a tanning bed and he’s too thin, plus he was high as a kite. There’s a lot of scary stuff being manufactured out there right now. Something chemical. Ice maybe, which would explain his bad breath and his thinness and why he was high at this time of the day.”

She asked, “Why . . . why does it explain all that?”

“You don’t eat on ice and don’t drink enough, so bacteria builds up in your mouth. Gives you stinky breath and eventually rots your teeth.”

We’d been lucky to find a bit of shade from the bank across from the pizza joint—the sun hadn’t moved far enough around to rob us of that protection. “Isn’t it strange that Holly named her baby Angel?” I said as I cranked up the air and slid the windows down.

Aunt Kay considered that question. “Maybe it’s because we always think of babies as angels. First thing we say is, ‘What a little angel.’ Maybe Holly called her baby Angel and then found Angel Photography. You know Holly. She’d think it was a sign, finding Angel Photography.”

She fastened her seat belt, slipping her right arm through it so the shoulder strap was behind her. “Do you think they know where Angel is?”

I had no answer.

Just as I was about to hit the streets I slammed on the brakes and put the gearshift into reverse. “Let’s see if we can find their rides.”

“Why?”

I shot backwards into the slot we’d just left. “Just in case we see them again.” Somewhere in my brain I’d already processed the fact that I’d made a huge error. While I never wanted to see either of the Vachess brothers again, I didn’t think it was likely to happen.

It was a fair-sized lot and I cruised slowly through it, considering all the cars until I came to a red Mustang. I pointed out the window. “That’s Ryan’s.” The license read
HOT PIC
.

Aunt Kay craned her neck. “Which one is Cal’s?”

“It must be modified so he can drive it,” I said.

“Then get out and check in the cars.” She was already undoing her belt.

“Forget it.” I headed for the exit. “Getting caught listening at the door was bad enough. If they find me inspecting their cars . . .” I didn’t want to think about that outcome. “We’re done here.”

She tried to swivel around and look out the back window. “Let’s wait here and see if Ryan comes out.”

“Not on your life. He already thinks I came hunting him. Meth heads are paranoid and dangerous and there’s a new type of meth on the street that makes people truly crazy. There’s no predicting what he’ll do if he finds us here. Cal was clear he didn’t want his brother anywhere near me.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know but I’m pretty sure he has a very good reason. No telling what’s going on with that Ryan. He’s one sick scumbag. I’m done with him.”

If only it had been true.

BOOK: 5 Highball Exit
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