Broken Vows Mystery 03-In Sickness and in Death (9 page)

“No. I’m supposed to be looking for a one-armed woman, Jolene. I cannot chase your sister around town.”

“Ray, Erica was talking about butterflies. She spoke to Mom like she was in the room with her. She’s not well.”

“She hasn’t been well for a long time. There’s no sign of any foul play here, or any kind of play. I don’t know why she called you, but I have to get back to work. I’ll check and see if Maurice Boor has any priors.”

I couldn’t believe he hung up on me. I resisted the temptation to slam the phone on the receiver over and over again only because of Danny’s watchful eyes.

While it was true Erica had been sick for years and known to disappear for days at a time with men, her hallucinations usually involved someone being after her, making her afraid to leave home. She lost several jobs because she failed to show up for work, too afraid to drive there for fear someone would be in the back seat of her car waiting to attack her. I’d never really thought of her conversations with our mother as hallucinations, since Erica never said she saw Mom or heard Mom’s voice. She just quoted her, which I’d interpreted as Erica trying to garner support for her own ideas by attributing them to Mom. After today, I wasn’t so sure.

I tried to convince myself that, like so often in the past, I had no real cause for concern about Erica’s safety. But Erica had a thing for butterflies. She coveted their short life span. And images of the severed arm lying in the ice chest kept pushing their way into my mind. We might have a psycho killer running loose in our county, one who preyed on women from The Cat’s Meow. Erica had recently become one of those women. While not a dancer, she had been there the other night, offering herself to men in the bar. Had one of them decided to take her up on her offer? Was he keeping her against her will? I couldn’t sit idly by and wait to find out, not when she’d called me in distress.

I glanced at Danny, who tried to avert his eyes back to his book before I caught him watching me. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“How about pizza?”

“Okay.”

“Get your coat and shoes. We’re going out.”

____

I pulled the Lexus into the parking lot of The Lincoln House, the restaurant and bar where Erica worked. Erica’s car sat in the far corner of the lot. My heart rejoiced. Could she have shown up for work?

Danny studied the picture of Abraham Lincoln in the lobby of the log cabin restaurant while I scanned the bar. I didn’t see Erica, but the place was full.

The hostess seated us near the fieldstone fireplace. When the waitress arrived, I ordered sodas and sent Danny to get his pizza from the salad bar. I hustled into the barroom and caught the bartender’s eye.

“Hey, Jolene. Did you and Ray come in for dinner?” Bernie, the bartender and half-owner, went to high school with us. He was a star on our high school football team, but his renowned brawn had since aged into paunch.

“Ray’s at work. I brought our new foster child, Danny. He’s twelve.”

Bernie swiped a towel over the bar. “I got a twelve-year-old. Jacob. Maybe they’ll be in the same class.”

“That would be nice. Is Erica working tonight?”

He folded the towel in his hands and looked at it. “She’s off tonight. She was here last night.” He didn’t sound too happy about it.

“Her car’s in the parking lot.”

His gaze remained trained on the towel. “I noticed.”

“Do you know if she went home with someone last night?”

He frowned. “Not for sure. She walked out with a new guy.”

“An employee?”

“A customer. He’s been in a couple times this month.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No. He’s quiet. Not really her type.”

“What do you mean?”

He gave his nose a nervous swipe. “Your sister likes excitement. Lately she’s been spoiling for a fight.”

“In what way?”

“She’s irritable. She’s jumpy. She gets mad if things don’t go her way. I had to sit her down the other day and tell her that she needs to sweeten up or she’s outta here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought she was doing well here.”

He brought his gaze to meet mine. “She was, Jolene. She was. I knew her record when I hired her, and I warned her then. She did fine for a while, but the last few months …” He trailed off and avoided my eyes again.

“What about them?”

“To be honest, since you lost your baby, she’s been different.”

I shouldn’t have felt surprised. Erica did shoot a man the day before we surrendered Noelle. Surely that had affected her, whether she admitted to it or not. “Different in what way?”

“It’s like she’s desperate for attention.” He washed a few glasses in the sink under the bar. “I think she misses you.”

“Misses me?”

“Yeah. She talked about you and the baby all the time. Then suddenly she didn’t have anything to talk about anymore. I’d ask her how you were doing and she didn’t know.”

Guilt washed over me. I’d neglected my sister, my surrogate child. Erica needed support, and I hadn’t been there to give it to her. “What does this guy she walked out with look like?”

“Dark hair. Maybe six foot. Okay looking, for a guy.”

“If he comes in again, can you call me?”

Bernie stopped drying the glass in his hand. “What for?”

“I don’t know where Erica is, and she’s been off her medicine. I need to find her and make sure she’s all right.”

“Sure. Sure. If he comes in, I’ll call you. And if Erica comes in, I’ll let you know, too.” He leaned closer. “I gotta tell you, though, if she doesn’t come in for her next shift, she’s through.”

“Fair enough.” If that happened, I would pay Erica’s bills just like always.

After thanking Bernie, I rejoined Danny at the table. He had four slices of pizza stacked on a plate with a side of heavily buttered bread. No vegetables.

I let it go. “I’m going to grab a piece of pizza and some salad. Then we need to go to Erica’s apartment, okay?”

Danny nodded, his cheeks bulging with pizza.

____

Erica lived in the apartment I’d leased when Ray and I separated four years ago. He and I’d been unable to come to terms over his desire to have a baby and my desire to avoid perpetuating my bloodline’s mental health issues. When Noelle fell into our arms and Ray and I reconciled after three years, we bought the bungalow, and Erica had moved into this old Victorian on Wells Street. She lived in the first floor apartment, and the landlord lived on the second floor. This time of year, the landlord was most likely holed up in a hunting lodge somewhere with his old war buddies. The entire house was dark when we pulled into the driveway.

I rang the bell then used my key. The apartment smelled musty. Danny followed me in and waited while I turned on the lights.

“Wow. Cool.” The dozens of fake butterflies dangling on fishing line from the ceiling captured Danny’s attention immediately. “She likes butterflies.”

I nodded. My fears grew.

The kitchen was clean and orderly. No one had cooked here in days, maybe months. Her bed was made, her clothes hung. Her suitcases remained tucked under the bed. Erica wasn’t here, and I couldn’t find a clue as to where she might be.

I tried to find her yearbooks, but failed. I’d have to go by my dim memories of Maury Boor for now.

I shut off the lights and led Danny out to the driveway again. “Danny, I need to go to The Cat’s Meow. Would you mind staying in the car while I go inside?”

He shrugged.

“Will you promise to stay in the locked car and wait for me? I don’t want to come out and find you missing again like at Dr. Albert’s office.”

He gazed at the floor. “I promise.” He lifted his head. “Do you think Erica is at The Cat’s Meow?”

I slid into the car and started the engine as he scrambled into the back seat. “I don’t know. She was there the other night. She was at a motel near there this afternoon. I just have to ask if they’ve seen her.” With any luck Briana Engle, Gumby’s wife, would be there to answer my questions. I didn’t feel like sidling up to anyone else in the place.

I backed out and headed out of town.

“What’s wrong with Erica?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s weird.”

“She is
not
weird.” I glanced at Danny in the rearview mirror but couldn’t make out his features in the dark. “Why do think she’s weird?”

“I don’t know. She’s just different.”

I had to give him that. Erica was different. When depressed, she was unapproachable. But with the right medication and phase of the moon, she was exuberant, charming, outgoing, and talkative. These days, she seemed dark and restless, a precursor in the past to hospitalization. Her heavy drinking was new. She’d stayed away from alcohol in the past because of her medications. I mentally kicked myself for not paying more attention to her. I’d fooled myself into believing her days in the psychiatric center were over.

But Danny didn’t know Erica was different from the usual. He meant she was different from everybody else, and not in a good way.

I couldn’t decide if he was very intuitive or just becoming a bigot like his father.

Either way, my number one priority was to find my sister.

Sunday night at The
Cat’s Meow didn’t draw a full house, judging from the parking lot. Only a dozen cars sat in it, surrounded by the dead cornstalks that looked on like sentinels. In one vehicle, a couple was steaming up the windows. I parked as far from them as possible and crossed my fingers Danny wouldn’t notice them.

I turned around to look him in the eye. “Now remember, you promised to stay in the car. Do not get out. Do not unlock the doors. Do not speak to anyone. Okay?”

“Okay.” Again, I heard the “yeah, right, lady” in his voice. I knew my fears for his safety far exceeded his confidence in his ability to care for himself.

I ran across the muddy parking lot and opened the front door. A bouncer sat alone in the foyer.

“You got ID?”

I pulled out my driver’s license, flattered he thought I might be underage.

He looked at my picture. I had long hair when it was taken several years ago. “You were hot.” He handed it back to me.

In an instant, I felt old and ugly, two things only amplified by the interior of the strip club.

At first, the loud music and disco lights stunned me. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust. Then I spotted the dancer gyrating on the stage with a G string, feather boa, and pasties, sporting boobs the size of cannonballs. I felt shortchanged, overdressed, and embarrassed for her and me.

The half-dozen men seated around the stage paid no attention to me, perhaps because I had all my clothes on, but more likely because their eyes were riveted on the stage. I crossed the room to the bar and asked for Briana Engle, Gumby’s wife. The bartender sent the half-naked waitress standing at the bar to get Briana from her dressing room.

“What else can I getcha?” He smiled at me with two broken front teeth.

“Nothing, thank you.”

He hitched his pants up and walked to the other end of the bar to watch the football game.

“Hey, Jolene. I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How are you?” Briana enveloped me in a hug that brought me in contact with her own two cannonballs. They didn’t flatten an inch under her red silk robe as her chest met mine.

“Worried. My sister, Erica, is missing. I know she was in here Tuesday night. Did you see her?”

Briana pursed her lips, which were as red as her robe. “I saw her singing at the top of her lungs and hitting on all the boys. She stole my thunder. I didn’t make any tips that night. Gumby finally called Ray.”

So he called because his wife was losing money, not because my sister needed help? Surely Gumby was a better officer than that. “I’m sorry about your tips. Has my sister been back since?”

Briana called the bartender over and asked him. He shook his head. Briana shrugged. “Guess not.”

“She wanted a man to take her home that night. Do you know his name or what he looked like?”

“No name, but he’s a big, redheaded guy. Really big. Meaty. Erica kept asking him if he was big all over.”