Page 28 of Skin Game
Admittedly, he’d never noticed it because he never taken a lotof time to think deeply about how he’d been raised. But it seemed to Gabe that, if he was going sort out this current fuckery, he was going to have to dive into their shared past in order to get to know his mother a little better.
He’d learned early that there were only two good things about the past: learning from one’s mistakes and getting to where one needed to be in the present. Thus, Gabe rarely looked over his shoulder; it had always been about moving forward to the future and the next mark. And that was one hundred percent a habit set for him by Heidi.
Do you like where you are now, Chance? Then it’s all good.
As a kid, he’d known they’d moved more often than other families because of Heidi’s “jobs.” Maybe the mark had become suspicious, either legitimately or not, something along those lines. Maybe Heidi had gotten what she wanted. Or maybe the target had flat-out disappeared.
Whichhadhappened sometimes.
When he was twelve, they had lived in Laguna Beach for a year or so. Heidi had landed a gig working in an art gallery and “had an understanding” with the owner, an art collector with deep pockets and a cocaine habit.
So very late eighties of him, Chance.
This interlude had stuck with Gabe because he’d been quasi fascinated with the guy, who wore Don Johnson-style suits and a lot of gold necklaces, even a pinky ring. Then one day he’d been gone. Poof. Nowhere to be found. By that point, the guy had trusted Heidi enough to let her have her own set of keys.
His name had been something boring, like Phil Jones. What had really happened back then? Why had the guy disappeared? Had Heidi been involved or merely an accidental bystander? Gabe doubted his mother was ever a bystander, not once she was on her own and savvy enough to practice the art of the con. Gabe himself was probably the last “accidental” event Heidi allowed to happen.
Heidihadhelped herself to a couple of Jones’s paintings. She’d taken them right off the wall while Gabe stood back and watched. She’d told him they were in lieu of payment for services rendered.
I’m sending you a hairy eyeball, Mom.
After wrapping them up and packing them into the trunk of their late model Chevy sedan, they left town without stopping at their apartment and headed due north on the Pacific Coast Highway. Gabe remembered being disappointed at leaving the golden sand and sunshine of California for Seattle clouds and rain.
What had happened to those paintings from Southern California? They hadn’t been stored at Lynn’s. Gabe wasn’t sure he’d ever seen them after they went into the trunk, like a kidnapping gone bad. Heidi had never shown much interest in fine art after that.
And how had she known to keep Gabe home from school that day?
“Seriously, Heidi, some answers would be great,” Gabe said aloud as he finished the climb. “I’d even read a third fucking letter.”
He’d reached the landing of the Westfort Public Library’s stairs and a set of double doors beckoned. Rolling his neck and ignoring the ever-so-slight pulse of pain in his forehead, Gabe looked up and took in the grand building one more time.
You’re stalling, Chance.
Maybe he was. But although Gabe was not one who generally appreciated architecture, he could tell the structure had been built with the help of a Carnegie grant. It had that very specific look to it. Like other towns and cities across America, a band of intrepid Westfort townspeople had banded together sometime around the early 1900s and convinced the Carnegie Foundation to help them build a library.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered, pulling one of the doors open and stepping into the quiet beauty.
A conversationwith the librarian at the information desk eventually led Gabe to the local reference section.
“We have a local fiction section too, but that doesn’t sound like what you’re looking for,” she informed him. “And if you want to use one of the computers, you only need to show us your library card, and we can get you set up.”
For the first time in his life, Gabriel Karne filled out an application for a library card.
“We’re out of cards at the moment. Your permanent card will come in the mail in a week or so,” she told him. “Don’t worry, this temporary one is good here and in the Timberland library system but expires when the new one is sent out. Since your home address is on Heartstone, I imagine that’s the branch you’ll end up frequenting most. You can have requests sent there if the library doesn’t have it on its shelves.” Then she proceeded to slide the slip of paper across the counter as if it was gold.
Smiling at her, Gabe accepted the temporary card. “Thank you.”
She turned away to help another visitor, but Gabe stayed put for a moment, staring down at the printout. This piece of paper was one more thing that linked him to Heartstone. To a permanent address. To Casey, to Elton, even Althea. He never thought he’d cared before that he didn’t belong, but the funky twinge in his chest said otherwise. Carefully, he tucked the card inside his wallet and returned to the task at hand.
A few older citizens were lingering around the kiosks, waiting for another silver-haired person to finish up on the public computer, so Gabe headed over to the Westfort and Pacific Northwest section at the back of the facility. He had his cell phone with him, but the signal inside the library was crap and he didn’t feel like asking for the Wi-Fi password. If he found anything useful, he’d have to take some pictures and follow up later.
What was he looking for anyway? Now there was a good question.
More Westfort High School yearbooks, to begin with. He’d learned those were shelved at the library. But he also wanted to search records regarding birth, death, land ownership, etcetera, and those were stored at the Twana Country Public Records Building, which was just a block west of where he was now. The kind librarian had informed him that, while most records were also available digitally, “for vital records before 1981, you need to go in person.”
Maybe he hadn’t needed to drive all the way into Westfort to do this research, but Gabe was glad he had. Heidi had been from this town, or at least had lived here for a while, and it made him feel somehow closer to her.
What happened? Why did you leave?