Page 17

Chapter Sixteen

–––

The Woman in Question

“What is it?” Kat asked after seeing my expression.

“Grace needs help with something,” I said. “Um, would you mind waiting here?”

“You’re leaving me?” Kat said, an edge to her voice. “Again?”

“Just for a sec, promise,” I said. “It’s just, I’m not sure Grace would be comfortable having you there. And it might not be safe.”

“Fine.” Kat jutted her chin up. “I want to see what happens to this BJ anyway.”

“I promise I’ll be quick,” I said, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek. Kat turned her head so it just grazed her. She was clearly pissed off, but I couldn’t worry about it now. For Grace to ask for help, something must be seriously wrong.

“Can I borrow that?” I asked, gesturing to the pepper spray.

Kat held it out for me to take. “Can I have the car keys?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, digging them out of my jacket pocket.

“Thank you.”

“Listen, baby—”

“You better go,” Kat snapped. Then she turned to the crowd and called out, “Excuse me please, I would like a margarita if there are any left?”

Someone handed her a can, and she took a big swig. I hesitated but then turned away. I’d make it up to her when I got back.

I took the stairs two at a time and then raced across the vacant lot that connected to the Buggy Suites next door. I eased through the gap in the fence bordering the parking lot and stopped dead.

Floodlights had been lit, making it glaringly bright. The parking lot was completely empty, no cars. And the door that led to Grace’s mom’s room was wide open.

I went to the open door and knocked tentatively. “Um, hello?” The room was empty, the covers on the bed in a tangle. I swallowed hard. Is her mom okay?

“Through here!” Grace called. I followed her voice back to the main apartment.

Grace was sitting in front of her monitors, tapping at the keyboard. Security camera footage flashed past at several times the normal speed.

“What’s up?”

“The new idiot attendant who was supposed to be watching Mother didn’t lock the door,” Grace said in a hard voice. “Apparently someone knocked on the office door and she went to see who it was. When she got back, Mother was gone.”

“Oh shit.” I ran a hand over my face. “What can I do?”

“You can help me look,” Grace said grimly. “I’m reviewing the surveillance footage now. Once I get a sense of which direction she went, I’ll go after her. You remain here in case she returns.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Whatever you need. Um, where’s the attendant?”

“I fired her,” Grace said.

“Oh, okay.” Seemed harsh, but understandable. Although it would have been helpful to have someone else looking. I watched as Grace slowed down the video and then rewound it. A guy entered the parking lot from the street, on foot. He was wearing bulky, dark clothing and a ball cap. He walked up to the door marked Office at the very front of the building, the one currently farthest from us, and knocked. I watched him rock back and forth on his heels, waiting. Then he knocked again.

“You think that’s the same guy who went to the Getaway?”

“Possibly. He came here first, however.” Grace pointed at the time stamp.

“Huh.” While I watched, he knocked one final time, then shrugged and sauntered back the way he’d come.

A moment later, the door popped open and a small figure in scrubs poked their head out. The attendant stepped outside and scanned in both directions; then she went back inside. We watched another few minutes of video at lightning speed; nothing moved until Grace hurried into the frame, coming through the vacant lot the same way I had. She went straight into her mother’s room, leaving the door open behind her.

“Are there any other ways out?” I asked. “Or maybe an area the cameras don’t cover?”

Grace sat back, frowning. “No. There are no blind spots. I made sure of it.”

“Weird.” I turned back toward the door. “You checked everywhere?”

“Of course I checked everywhere!” she snapped, rewinding the video.

I held up both hands defensively. “Just asking, sheesh. Could she have gone out a back window, maybe?”

“All of those are sealed shut for safety.”

“Well, then she has to be here somewhere.”

Grace threw up her hands. “Where?”

I tried not to react; I’d never seen Grace this flustered, and I’d watched her stare down serial killers. Twice. “I’m just gonna take a look around, okay? You keep checking the footage.”

Without waiting for a response, I made my way back to her mom’s room. Standing and facing the empty bed, I tried to imagine her mom’s mindset. She lived in fear of her husband showing up. She’d been rattled by a stranger knocking at the office door. In her mind, the threat was outside, so it was unlikely she would’ve gone there.

But where then? I tried the door to the connecting room on the other side; still locked.

Then I heard a small noise. I cocked my head to the side and strained to listen.

It was coming from the closet.

“Hello?” I called out, noticing that the door was slightly ajar. “Grace’s mom?”

Silence. I went over to the closet door and rapped lightly with my knuckles. Then I carefully eased it open.

It had been converted to a deep walk-in closet. At first glance, it was empty: plastic bins filled with clothing, a long line of hanging dresses and coats, built-in shelves and drawers.

And a pile of clothes heaped in the back, which could’ve been mistaken for laundry if it wasn’t trembling slightly.

“Um, hi,” I said, settling down on my haunches. “Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

The top of the pile shifted slightly, revealing white hair and an eye gazing suspiciously out at me. I smiled encouragingly. After a beat, a hand reached out and slowly peeled back more clothing, revealing her entire head. I was careful not to react.

I hadn’t gotten a close look earlier, but now I could see that Grace’s mom was an older version of her—the same icy blue eyes and delicate features. She eyed me uncertainly, as if trying to place me. She was shivering, which was no surprise; thanks to the open door, it was frigid inside the room.

“Hey,” I said softly as I texted Found her to Grace. “It’s okay. I’m a friend.”

She eyed me suspiciously and then croaked, “Close the door, it’s not safe! He’s out there!”

“Yeah?” I said. “Who’s out there?”

“Father,” she rasped, leaning forward. The way she said it made the hair on my arms stand up.

“Gotcha,” I said. “Okay, I’ll go close the door.”

I got up slowly and went to close it. Coming back, I eased down into a seated position and wrapped my arms around my knees. “We haven’t met,” I said. “I’m Amber.”

She was still regarding me uncertainly, which I couldn’t blame her for. “Amber.”

“Yup. I’m a…well, I know Grace.”

That seemed to register. She shifted forward, sending clothes cascading, as she said urgently, “We need to protect Grace.”

“Okay,” I said agreeably. “Happy to help.”

“Mother,” Grace said firmly from the doorway. “You have to go back to bed.”

“Grace?” Her voice was reedy.

“Yes, Mother. Let me help you.” Grace stepped forward and extended a hand, but her mom shrank back into the closet.

“He was here!” she hissed. “Father came for me!”

“That wasn’t Father,” Grace said firmly.

This agitated the elderly woman further. She waved an arm, pointing toward the door. “I heard him! Plain as day!”

Looking impatient, Grace started toward her. Her mom shrieked and cowered back. Grace swore under her breath. “Mother, if you don’t get back into bed, I’m going to have to sedate you again.”

“No! It’s not safe! He’s come for us, Grace, he knows what I did. He’s going to punish us. Punish us, Grace!” She was becoming overwrought, shaking with emotion.

“Hey, um…want me to try?” I said hesitantly.

“Be my guest,” Grace said, throwing up her hands. “I have to get the medication ready anyway. Please make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

“Yeah, sure.” After she left the room, Grace’s mom regarded me warily. I hesitated, then sat on the floor facing her. “How about we just sit for a moment?”

She eyed me and then said, “Father.”

“Right, I heard,” I said, nodding. “Sounds like that was pretty scary.”

Tentatively, she straightened slightly. Looking at me intently, she said, “He wants to take the other one. Don’t let him!”

“That’s awful,” I said sympathetically. “So sorry to hear that.”

“Yes.” She edged a bit closer, almost to the closet door; it was like trying to coax an animal. “He knows, you see.”

“Knows what?”

“Knows that I called the FBI. I had to. He was going to break Grace, the same way he broke Gunnar.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He was going to take her, too.”

Grace reappeared in my peripheral vision. I made a small motion for her to stay where she was, then said, “You did the right thing.”

“Yes,” she nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face. “Too late for Gunnar. But I saved Grace.”

I made a show of yawning and then checked my watch. “Wow, would you look at the time. Pretty late. I’m tired. Are you tired?”

A long beat, during which she regarded me suspiciously, as if this was a trap. Then she slowly shook her head. “Not safe. He’s out there.”

“I think he left, actually.” Turning to Grace, I said. “You checked, right? And he’s gone?”

Grace stood there frowning, holding a hypodermic needle. Seeing my look, she nodded and said, “Yes, Mother. I checked everywhere. He’s gone.”

“Well, that’s good news, right?” I slowly got to my feet and stretched my arms above my head. “What do you think? Ready to go back to bed?”

Grace’s mom seemed to be engaged in a silent debate. Finally, she stood all the way up and crossed her arms against the chill. “It’s cold in here,” she complained.

“Right? It’s freezing.” Mirroring her, I crossed my arms and shivered theatrically. “Let’s get you under the covers, okay?”

Still eyeing me skeptically, she acquiesced, letting me take her elbow. Gently, I guided her back to the bed. She let me tuck her in, then motioned for me to come close. I leaned in, and she said in a low, urgent voice, “You need to kill him. Before he kills us.”

The way she said it sent chills up my spine, especially because her voice was uncannily like Grace’s. But I carefully kept my face blank and nodded, saying, “I hear you.”

Seeming satisfied, she leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. Within a minute, her chest was rising and falling regularly.

When I turned around, Grace was tucking the hypodermic needle back into a medical kit. She motioned for me to follow as she headed back toward her living quarters. Avoiding my eyes, she said, “Thank you. I hate having to sedate her.”

“Yeah, of course. No problem.”

Grace set the medical kit down on the kitchen counter and braced both hands on it. Lowering her head, she breathed out hard and then laughed abruptly.

“You okay?” I asked awkwardly.

“I’m fine.” She shook her head without meeting my eyes. “I need to call the service and see if they’ll send someone else.”

“Sorry this happened,” I said. “The guy must’ve rattled her.”

“She thinks she sees Father every day,” Grace said wearily. “Sometimes multiple times a day. Anything sets her off.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“She liked you,” Grace said after a beat. “That’s unusual for Mother.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” I hesitated. “Anything else I can do, or should I head back?”

She didn’t appear to have heard me. “I don’t know. Maybe Chuy is right, and I should put her back in a home.”

I stood there, not knowing what to say. Grace had always seemed so self-assured, so certain of everything; seeing this side of her was deeply unnerving.

“I need a drink.” She turned to face me. “Do you want a drink?”

I hesitated. Kat was still waiting at the Getaway; I should get back to her. But that would leave Grace to drink alone. And frankly, I could use one. Grace’s mom’s voice still echoed in my ears. “Yeah, sure.”

Grace was already pulling a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. She poured a few fingers’ worth in two tumblers and brought them over. Personally, I would’ve preferred a mixer, but she didn’t offer and I didn’t ask. I raised my glass in a toast and then took a sip.

She downed hers in a single gulp.

“Yowza. Okay, then,” I said. “Did you want to call the service? Or, I mean, I can call them…”

“No point. I doubt they’ll find anyone willing to come at this hour. And at the rate we’re going through them, they’re probably going to stop sending people altogether. Mother can be a handful, as you’ve seen.” While I watched, she refilled her glass. Picking it up, she swirled the liquid inside and gazed at it ruminatively. “I wish she still possessed enough faculties to understand the news about Father.”

“Uh, what news?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed something.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone? As in…dead?”

She nodded. “Apparently the supermax was threatened by the wildfire, so they were relocating inmates to a different facility. There was an accident on the highway, and his bus was overtaken by flames. There were no survivors.”

“Oh shit.” Awkwardly, I added, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Grace frowned at me.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I know he was awful, but he’s still your dad, right?” My parents were con artists who basically abandoned me when I was fifteen, but if they died, I’d still feel something. I wasn’t sure what, but something.

“Yes.” Still avoiding my eyes, she said, “But Gregory hadn’t been a father to me in a long time.”

“Believe me, I get that. Um, how do you feel?”

Grace shook her head slightly. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“That’s normal.” At least, I assumed it was; I hadn’t studied the psychology of grief yet, so all I had to rely on was my lived experience. And I remembered not feeling anything for a long time after Stella died. “All this seems like a lot.”

“You have no idea.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I thought that with Gunnar gone, everything would be easier. But instead, it’s just a mess. I’m a mess.”

I stared at her. I didn’t know how to deal with this version of Grace. Hesitantly, I offered, “You’re a good daughter. Even if it doesn’t work out, you tried. That counts for something.”

Grace barked a sharp laugh. “Mother would never agree, not if she was able to think clearly. The irony is that Father was always my favorite. Growing up, Mother was basically a ghost.” Moodily, she downed another gulp.

I was definitely not touching that one. “Anything I can do to help? Seriously, whatever you need.”

“No thank you, Amber.” Grace sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I apologize for dragging you into this.”

“No problem, really. Hopefully we’ll catch this guy, and things’ll settle down.”

As if on cue, my phone rang. I picked up. On the other end, Dot sounded breathy. “Hey, kiddo. Any chance you’re still with Grace?”

“Yeah.” I frowned. “How’d you know?”

“Kat told us before she took off.”

“Oh. How’d she seem?”

“Upset, I’m afraid.”

“Fabulous,” I sighed.

“She’ll be fine, doll. But listen, we think Bambi’s group might actually have run into the guy.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He managed to get away but left behind a bag with a razor and a bottle of chloroform.” Voices in the background. Dot said something I couldn’t quite make out and then her voice came through clearly. “We were thinking maybe Grace could trace his license plate for us?”

“Um, this might not be the best time,” I hedged.

“What is it?” Grace asked, refilling her glass. She was hitting the booze like it was water, which was also extremely out of character.

But then, she’d just found out her dad was dead, so she wouldn’t be getting any judgment from me. I covered the receiver and said, “Dot wants you to trace a license plate. But I can tell her you’re busy.”

“I would be happy to do it,” Grace said, setting down her glass. “Tell her to text it to me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive, Amber.” She looked and sounded more like herself as she added, “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long night. Please see yourself out.”

———

I scrolled through news alerts during my Uber ride back to the Mayhem. Gregory Grimes wasn’t the only famous psychopath who had perished in the prison bus fire; the flames had also taken a cartel boss and a domestic terrorist. Good riddance , I thought, enlarging the main photo. It was an overhead shot, probably taken by a drone. The bus had been knocked on its side and shorn in two. It was wrapped around the semi, as if the truck was the meat in a prison-bus sandwich. The bus’s side windows were charred black, and wisps of smoke still cloaked the edges of the scene. I let out a low whistle; no one walked away from something like that. I felt bad for the truck driver and prison guards, but based on the list of dead prisoners, the world was now a slightly better place.

It was nearly two a.m. when my Uber pulled into the Mayhem parking lot, and most of the room lights were extinguished. Someone was sitting at the firepit on the balcony, however. As I got closer, I recognized Dot. She was staring into the flames, sipping from a champagne flute. She’d removed her headscarf and kicked off her shoes. I hesitated, then climbed the stairs.

“Hey,” I said. “Want some company?”

Dot started, putting a hand to her chest. “Oh my, you gave me a fright.”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay. I was just a million miles away.”

“How’s Gina?”

“Sleeping, thanks to your gal’s pills and a couple strong shots.”

“That’s good. Do you think the other guy had anything to do with it?”

“The lookie-loo?” Dot shook her head. “Doubt it, hon. ’Fraid this got away from us a bit. I’m guessing there are a lot of pepper-sprayed johns regretting their life choices tonight.”

“Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“True. Like I said, Bambi seems pretty sure they had him, but we’ll see. Hopefully Grace can track down that plate number.”

“I think she appreciated the distraction,” I said.

“Hm.” Dot examined me. “Everything okay with her?”

“More or less.”

“She seems tired.”

“Yeah.” I hesitated; it didn’t feel right to tell Dot about Grace’s father. It would probably be all over the news tomorrow, anyway. “Family stuff.”

Dot sipped her drink. “Sometimes, getting exactly what you want throws you for a loop.”

“Pretty sure she didn’t get exactly what she wanted,” I said, picturing her mom. “She’s definitely struggling.”

“Well, she’s a smart cookie. She’ll figure it out. Anyway, I didn’t want to lose out on beauty sleep right before the wedding. But when I got back here, boom !” She snapped her fingers. “Wide awake.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Pour you a tipple?” she asked, wagging her glass at me.

“Sure.” Mixing champagne with vodka was probably going to produce a serious hangover, but at the moment, I didn’t care. Anything to avoid the confrontation waiting back in my room. Dot went over to a cabinet built into the wall, opened a panel, and withdrew another flute. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Jessie’s idea,” Dot said with a smile as she came back. She poured champagne into the flute and handed it to me. “We spent a lot of nights spilling the tea out here. Whenever I’m feeling a little blue, I come out and raise a glass.”

I frowned. “Why are you feeling blue? You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“About getting hitched?” Dot smiled and shook her head. “It’s not that, toots. It’s just…I’m sad that Jess won’t be here to see it.” Staring down into her glass, she twirled the champagne and then added, “Sometimes I just feel kinda lonely, y’know?”

It was funny; I never would’ve thought that of Dot. Everyone I’d ever met in Vegas seemed not just to know her, but to genuinely care about her. But then, you could be surrounded by people and still feel alone. “I get that,” I said finally. “I’m really sorry. I wish Jessie was here, too.”

“I’m not much of a believer,” Dot said, leaning forward. “But let me tell you something. This morning, I woke up and saw a hummingbird, right outside my window. A hummingbird, here in Vegas! And I knew it was her.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, definitely. She always had a soft spot for those. Think I’ll put up a feeder when we get back from the honeymoon.” Topping off her glass, she motioned to mine. I nodded, and she refilled it. “Anyway, toots, you seem pretty happy with that gorgeous new girlfriend of yours. Are you?”

“Sure,” I said. “I should get to the room, actually. Kat’s probably wondering what happened to me.”

“Oh, she’s not back yet.”

“Wait, what?” I frowned. “Where is she?”

“Got a call back at the Getaway and said she had to go help someone. And away she went.” Dot made a waving motion with her free hand.

That was perplexing; who in Las Vegas would call Kat for help? Aside from me, she didn’t know anyone. I pulled out my phone and texted, but she didn’t respond.

Dot settled back in her chair, the flickering flames reflecting her red hair as she watched me. After a long beat, she said, “Word of advice, hon? Be careful with that one.”

“With Kat?” I frowned, a little hurt. “Why? Don’t you like her?”

“Oh, sure,” she shrugged. “But rich folks aren’t always what they seem, in my experience.”

“Well, I think she’s great,” I said gruffly, getting to my feet. “Thanks for the drink, Dot. I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“Now, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Dot reached out and patted my arm. “Ignore me, I’m just tired. And speak of the devil, here she comes.”

My Audi pulled into the lot. We both watched as Kat parked in one of the few empty spaces and climbed out. She turned to talk to someone in the passenger seat. When I saw who it was, I muttered, “You have got to be kidding me.”

Dot leaned forward to peer over the rail. “Who’s that with her?”

“My parents,” I said grimly, watching as my father lumbered out of the back seat.

“Your parents ?” Dot set down her glass, an expression of shock on her face. “Hell, kiddo. You didn’t tell me they were in town.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t a pleasant surprise.”

“I see. Well, you know I’m no stranger to tricky families. You think they want a room?”

“Probably. Along with a kidney and whatever else you’re willing to give.”

“Number four is open if you want,” Dot offered.

“Give me a sec to find out what they’re doing here.”

“You want me to come with?”

“Nah, I got this.”

“Suit yourself.” Dot drained her glass and stood. “I’m gonna hit the hay. Here.” She dug a key out of her pocket. “Opens any room in the joint. Family rate is thirty a night.”

“What do you charge assholes?”

She grinned, showing her dimples. “Sixty.”

“Sixty it is.” I offered her the bottle, saying, “Don’t forget this.”

Dot snorted. “You keep it, dollface. From the look of things, you’ll be needing it. Just tell them to keep it down, okay? Number three likes to whine about noise. See you at the fitting tomorrow. One o’clock—don’t be late!”

As she headed toward the room at the far end, I descended the stairs. Kat and my parents were talking in low voices. As I approached, they fell silent.

“So,” I said. “What the fuck is this?”

“Language,” my mother tutted.

“I am sorry, Amber. I did not know where else to take them,” Kat said apologetically. She looked as spent as I felt. “They called and said they needed help.”

“I’m not blaming you,” I said reassuringly, taking her hand. “I know whose fault this is. The two of you should be ashamed of yourselves.” I stepped forward and jabbed a finger at my mother. “I told you to stay away from us.”

“Well,” my mother said stiffly. “I didn’t have much choice. Someone had to bail your father out of jail.”

“Jail?” I turned to my father. He looked ashen and had an institutional smell that I immediately recognized. “What did you do?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” my father said hoarsely.

“You know what?” I said, holding up a hand. “I don’t actually care. Why didn’t you go back to your hotel?”

My parents exchanged a look, then my dad cleared his throat and said, “Because we don’t technically have one, honey.”

“We were sleeping in the car.” My mom’s hair was a mess, her makeup smeared. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she said, “But then it got towed, and your father was just trying to get it out of the impound lot, and there were dogs! I mean really, we could sue the pants off them, he’s lucky he wasn’t ripped to absolute shreds —”

Kat squeezed my hand and shot me a look. I sighed. “You can stay here for one night,” I said, holding up a finger. “One. I’ll cover it, but I have terms.”

“I really don’t appreciate your tone, dear,” my mother said.

I motioned for her to shush and continued, “I will get your car out of impound tomorrow, and you will get in it and drive away. You’re going to lose her number,” I said, pointing at Kat. “And you’re going to leave us alone. Deal?”

My mother’s eyes narrowed; I could practically see her calculating. Before she could open her mouth, I said, “This is not up for discussion. Either you agree, or you sleep on the street.”

“We’re your parents,” my mother said plaintively. “Would you really abandon us?”

“In a fucking heartbeat,” I said. “It runs in the family. So what’ll it be?”

My parents exchanged a glance and then my father nodded wearily. I handed him the key. “Room four. Be quiet, and don’t make a mess.”

Pulling Kat behind me, I headed for the stairs.

“Sweet dreams, girls!” my mom called out.

“Unbelievable.” As we passed the firepit on the way to our room, I grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck. Once inside, I closed the door and collapsed on the bed.

“Amber—”

“Listen,” I said. “I get why you helped them—you’re a nice person, and they’re really, really good at taking advantage of nice people. But we’ve gotta talk about boundaries, okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Kat crossed the room and perched on the edge of the desk, holding out a hand for the bottle. I passed it to her, and she took a long swig. “I just thought, even though they might not be the best people, they’re your family. And I have the money to help them, so I might as well. Besides, I wasn’t even sure you were coming back tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “You just seem awfully busy with other women.”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. In the small corner of my mind that was still sober, a voice was yelling at me to shut up and play nice. Unfortunately, the rest of it was verging on sloppy drunk, and that part was not in the mood for drama. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” Kat crossed her arms and glared at me. “You have barely looked at me since we got here! Or touched me. And every time I turn around, you are either staring at another woman or going off with her!”

“These are my friends,” I said defensively.

“They seem like a lot more than that,” she sniffed.

“That’s ridiculous,” I mumbled.

Not quietly enough, as it turns out, because Kat immediately snarled, “Did you just call me ridiculous?”

Looking back, this is the moment when I should have apologized. But I was tired, and grumpy, and as I already mentioned, drunk. So instead I snapped, “If the shoe fits.”

Kat glared at me, spun on her heel, and left the room. And I, like the grown-ass adult that I was, fell back onto the bed fully dressed and passed out cold.