Page 99 of The Sister's Curse

“Yeah. No sign of the woman you’re looking for.”

I wanted to drive up to Sumner’s house and arrest him. I didn’t have enough evidence yet, though, for an arrest warrant. I had to have things airtight.

And more than arresting him, I wanted him to lead me to Viv.

22

Smoke and Mirrors

Maybe it was time I retraced my steps.

I drove toward Viv’s place, stopping at the Grey Door bar. I pulled into an open parking space out front, realizing too late that the El Camino sorta stuck out like a sore thumb among pickup trucks and motorcycles. But it also kind of belonged. I left the AC on for Gibby, and headed in.

At this time of night, things were busy. Young men in neon T-shirts sat at the bar—they were likely construction workers, as crews used brightly colored shirts to distinguish the sparkies, the plumbers, and the carpenters. Men and women in bikers’ leathers crowded the booths, and sunburned men who looked like they’d just returned from fishing took up the remaining tables.

I slid up to the bar. The owner, Owen Destin, nodded at me. “I’ll be right with you. Shorthanded tonight.”

I glanced at the mirror behind the rows of bottles. I saw myself sitting at the bar, and the seat beside me was occupied by a woman who looked remarkably like Dana Carson, down to the moon-shapedpendant in the hollow of her throat. She stared with black eyes at me through the mirror.

I turned to my right, and found the bar stool there empty.

I knotted my hands before me and stifled a shudder. I was seeing things, and that meant I couldn’t trust myself.Fuck, fuck, fuck…

The owner’s shadow fell over me. I looked up at Owen. Circles tugged under his eyes, his flannel shirt was stained, and he seemed run pretty ragged.

“What can I do you for?” he asked.

“A beer, whatever you’ve got on tap. And a moment of your time.”

He poured me a beer and leaned down to the bar. “What’s up, Koray?”

“Viv Carson has gone missing. Have you seen her?”

Owen frowned. “Shit. She didn’t show up for her shift today. I called, but she didn’t answer. Is she okay?”

“We don’t know.” I told him briefly what I’d found at her house. “Have any of Viv’s customers given her trouble lately? Anyone seem to have an interest in her?”

The owner shook his head. “I don’t put up with that kind of nonsense in my joint. No hitting on the help.”

“Did she have any close friends? People she was dating?”

Owen sighed. “Viv was pretty private that way, all business when she was here.”

I asked him a few more questions, about Viv’s hours, when she worked openings and closings. The owner didn’t have any cameras in the establishment, but he showed me her time cards. Viv’s day off had been yesterday. I couldn’t be sure no one had followed her home from work.

“I sure hope Viv’s all right,” the owner said. “She’s a littlekooky, but she’s a good girl. Hard worker. I shoulda known something was wrong when she didn’t show up.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

I made notes on my phone, and the owner went off to serve other patrons. He seemed genuinely concerned about Viv. I could see it in his posture, hunched over and deflated.

A man in a neon yellow shirt from a local electric company leaned on the table next to me. “You know Viv’s a witch, right?”

I looked at him. He took a swig from his beer bottle.

“Hi. I’m Anna Koray.”

“I’m Chris Hasterly.”