Against the Night (7 page)

Along with that, no men were allowed upstairs, which was one of the reasons the girls liked living there. They could work, pay cheap rent and save their money, and not be hassled by drunken Kitty Cat patrons.

Amy walked over to the kitchen counter, where Babs was making coffee. “Do you think he’ll be able to find out what happened to her?”

Babs pressed the start button on the coffeemaker. She knew what Amy was asking. “In a city this size, women disappear all the time. Some of them are never seen again.”

A cold chill slipped through her. “You mean their bodies are never found.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but yeah. That’s what I mean.”

“We pretend she’s still out there, but I’m not sure either of us really believes it.”

“Oh, she’s out there. We just don’t know if she’s alive or not. Until we’re sure one way or another, we’ll do whatever it takes to find out.”

Amy felt better just hearing the words. They wouldn’t give up—not until they knew what had happened. She could handle Kyle Bennett. He was just a man and their plan was a good one. At least it was a place to start.

And now she had John Riggs to help her.

Johnnie climbed the short flight of steps and shoved through the front door of the redbrick building on North Wilcox Avenue. The Hollywood Community Police Station handled La Brea, Sunset, Hollywood and a half dozen surrounding communities.

First thing this morning, he had run a check on Amy Brewer. Looked like she was exactly what she said—a kindergarten teacher from Grand Rapids. He groaned. Last night’s hot kiss popped into his head and he thought how much he still wanted her, bit down on a curse and forced his mind back to business.

He’d also run Rachael Brewer’s name, and read the few newspaper articles about her disappearance he’d found on the Net and anything else he could find about her. It was a start, but not much help.

Making his way over to the counter in the police station, he recognized Officer Gwen Michaels working behind the front desk.

“Hey, Gwen.”

She looked up at him and a smile broke over her face. “Johnnie! You devil, where you been? And don’t tell me you’ve been staying out of trouble, ’cause that just ain’t happenin’, honey.”

Johnnie grinned. “Trouble’s my middle name, Gwen. You know that.”

“Sure do. So what can I do for you, J-man?” Officer Michaels was in her twenties, black and gorgeous. And a damn fine officer on top of it.

“Is Detective Vega around? I need to pick his brain a little.”

“I think he left a while ago, but let me check for you.” She rotated her stool toward the computer on the desk in front of her, checked the monitor. “He’s out on a call, not due back until the end of the day.”

“Leave him a message, will you? Ask him to give me a call when he gets in?”

“No problem.”

“Thanks, Gwen.”

“Take care, J-man.”

He chuckled. She always called him that. He wondered why he’d never asked her out. Probably because she was a cop. When he got off work, police business was the last thing he wanted to think about.

He headed for the door, wishing Vega had been in but figuring he could count on the detective’s help. He didn’t get much resistance from the LAPD. In fact, he could usually depend on their cooperation with just about anything. His younger sister, Kate, had been an LAPD patrolman. Four years ago, Katie had died in the line of duty during a bank robbery. At the time, Johnnie had been in Mexico on some shit boat-recovery job for J. D. Wendel, one of the dot-com billionaires. The eighty-foot, million-plus Lazzara was chump change for Wendel, but the man wasn’t about to let one of his employees get away with stealing it from him.

As Johnnie walked back to his car, he remembered returning to the States to find out he’d lost the sister he adored and his chest tightened. Katie was the only real family he’d had. He sure didn’t count the deadbeat dad who’d raised them in a crappy apartment off Los Feliz Boulevard.

Max Riggs only worked hard enough to keep the power turned on and put a little food on the table. The rest of the time he was hustling some sucker out of his paycheck, or drinking and gambling with his buddies down at Pete’s bar. With their mother long gone and never to be heard from again, Johnnie and Katie were left to fend for themselves.

He’d finally gotten over his mother’s abandonment, though as a kid, he’d often wondered what he and Katie had done to drive her away.

As he grew older, he liked to think he’d had some part in how well his kid sister had turned out. He had worked two jobs to buy her the clothes she needed for school. After he joined the army, he’d sent money for city college, where she took classes in police science and finally landed the spot she so badly wanted on the force. Katie had been well respected in the department, intelligent and competent, a young woman dedicated to her job.

Officer Kate Riggs had been part of the police family, and with her death in the line of duty, forever would be.

Which made him family, too.

Sort of.

His Mustang sat at the curb. Johnnie slid behind the wheel and fired up the engine. Sooner or later, he’d talk to Vega, who wasn’t just a good cop but also a friend. In the meantime, he’d see what information he could pry out of Rachael’s sister and her friend.

Amy’s pretty face popped into his head, only she wasn’t Amy, she was Angel, flaunting her beautiful, mostly naked body up onstage. He could remember every delicious curve, every swing of her perfect little ass.

Johnnie closed his eyes, forcing the image away. It wasn’t Angel he was helping. It was Amy, a freakin’ kindergarten teacher.

Johnnie cursed.

Six

Amy’s cell phone rang. She ran over to the kitchen table, dug it out of her purse and pressed it against her ear. “Hello?”

“I’m on my way to the Sunset Deli. You know where it is?” Johnnie’s husky voice made her stomach flutter.

“I know it. We eat there sometimes.” It was on the opposite side of the street just half a block from the club.

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Bring your roommate along and bring me a picture of your sister.”

“Okay, we’ll see you there.” Amy ended the call and turned to Babs, who was finishing the last of her coffee.

“I take it that was Mr. Hot,” Babs said.

Amy nodded. “He wants us to meet him at the Sunset Deli.” Amy picked up her sister’s acting portfolio, a book of photos Rachael used to take to auditions. “Let’s go.”

Babs took a last swallow of coffee, set her empty mug down on the kitchen counter and grabbed her purse. Amy slung the strap of her white leather bag over her shoulder and they headed for the door. She still had on the white jeans she’d worn that morning, but had changed out of her sneakers into strappy high-heeled sandals, and a pink silk blouse that tied up in front, showing her midriff. Kyle would be expecting an exotic dancer. She had to look at least a little like one.

It didn’t take long to reach the deli, a place they occasionally went for lunch. As they made their way between the tables, Johnnie stood waiting at the back of the room. She could feel his eyes on her, dark and intense, taking in every curve, and her stomach did that same nervous flutter. He pulled out a couple of chairs around the wooden table and she sat down, setting the portfolio in front of her.

Amy tried for a smile, thought about what had happened between them last night, and her face heated up. She fixed her attention on Babs. “This is my friend Barbara McClure. As I said, Babs was Rachael’s friend and roommate.”

“Hello, Johnnie.” Babs flashed him a bright white smile.

Johnnie just nodded. “Babs.” Pulling out another chair, he sat down himself. “If we’re going to do this, I’m going to need as much information as I can get. You ready for that?”

Both of them nodded.

“Good, then we might as well get started.”

Like a lot of places on Sunset, the deli had been there for years. The wooden floors were old and warped, the tables battered and scarred. Cured salami and loaves of crusty bread hung on the walls, and the smell of roasting meat and baking bread filled the air.

As Johnnie reached over and pulled the photo album toward him, a waitress in a dark green apron with Sunset Deli stamped on the front appeared to take their orders: a bagel and cream cheese for Babs, pastrami and rye for Johnnie. Amy ordered coffee with cream. No way could she possibly eat with John Riggs sitting across from her with his biceps bulging, a tight black T-shirt stretched over his massive chest, reminding her what she had missed out on last night.

“You’re not hungry?” he asked.

Amy shook her head. “I had a little something earlier.”

He cast her a glance that said he wasn’t convinced. “Let’s start at the beginning.” His intense gaze held hers. “First off, as long as you’re in this, you’re Angel. Amy Brewer is still in Michigan as far as this investigation goes. You want answers, you’ve got a helluva better chance of getting them if you’re Angel Fontaine, not Rachael’s sister. Just an acquaintance. The thing is, I don’t want anyone finding out you’re playing detective. All you’ll do is piss someone off, and if it happens to be the guy who…had something to do with her disappearance, you could be next. You got it?”

“All right.”

“I’ll need one of these photos.”

“Take whatever you need,” she said as he opened the portfolio. “I had some extras made.”

He slid a four-by-six glossy out of the plastic sleeve, the photo of a beautiful girl with shoulder-length mink-brown hair and pale green eyes. The angle of her head gave her smile a hint of mischief.

“Pretty girl,” Johnnie said, examining the picture.

Amy felt a tightening in her chest. “Rachael’s beautiful. She was homecoming queen in high school. She always had her pick of the boys.”

Johnnie studied the photo as if he were trying to see deeper than the pretty smile and glossy dark hair. “How long since you last saw her?”

“Not since my dad’s funeral. About three years. Rachael’s twenty-eight. She left Grand Rapids when she turned twenty-one, right after she finished city college. She came back to visit a couple of times, but it always ended in a fight with Mom. Rachael was smart. My parents wanted her to finish her education, but all Rachael wanted was to be onstage. She got the lead in a couple of high school plays, then did some local theater, and that was it. She believed she had found her calling. She was determined to become an actress.”

“Well, she was onstage,” Babs drawled, “but the Kitty Cat Club isn’t exactly what your sister had in mind.”

Johnnie’s mouth edged up, then he returned his attention to Amy. “How about phone calls, email, that kind of thing?”

“We talked on the phone a few times a year, but it was mostly about superficial stuff. I didn’t know she was working as a…a dancer until I talked to Babs. There’s a computer in the office downstairs. The girls use it for email. She said she had a job as a cocktail waitress. I guess that was kind of the truth.”

“What about boyfriends?”

“She never mentioned anyone special. She never talked to me about her boyfriends or anything like that and I never talked to her about mine.”

Johnnie sliced her a glance. “You got a guy back home?”

There was more to the question than it seemed; she could see it in his eyes. Amy shook her head. “We broke up a couple of years ago. I’m not seeing anyone now.”

Johnnie seemed to relax. “Any other family members out here?”

“No, just me, and I’ve only been here the past couple of weeks.”

“How about friends of hers from the past? People she knew back home?”

Amy shook her head.

“Anything about her you can think of that might help me find her?”

“I don’t know…we drifted so far apart over the years.” Amy smiled sadly. “Rachael could really sing… A voice like a songbird, you know? Only she wasn’t interested in a singing career. She wanted to be a serious actress.”

Johnnie was making mental notes, she could tell. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Only that she wasn’t the type to just go away and not tell anyone.”

“I’m sure you believe that, honey, but as you said, you don’t really know your sister that well—not anymore.”

It was true. Sadly. She should have come out to California sooner, tried to rebuild the close relationship they had once shared.

The waitress arrived with their food, her coffee and two glasses of iced tea. Johnnie stuck the photo into his back pocket, picked up his pastrami sandwich and dug in. Babs slathered her toasted bagel with cream cheese and jelly, tore off a bite and began to nibble. Amy added a little cream to her coffee and managed to take a sip.

“Who’ve you been talking to in the department?” Johnnie asked around a mouthful of pastrami and rye.

“A woman detective, Lieutenant Carla Meeks. I talk to her pretty much every day. She says they haven’t come up with anything new.”

“Sometimes making a pest of yourself works. Sometimes it’s just a distraction.”

She glanced down at the table. “I know.”

Johnnie turned to Babs. “What did Rachael do before she started working at the Kitty Cat Club?”

“She was a waitress down at Milt’s Coffee Shop. But working at the club paid a lot better, and she wanted to save some money.”

“What for?”

“I think she was hoping she’d get an acting job and if she did, she wanted to have enough put away to get a place of her own. I know she did casting calls whenever she got the chance. As far as I know, not much ever came of it.”

“She dating anyone you know of—besides Kyle Bennett, I mean?”

“I knew about Bennett, but she was only seeing him because she thought he might help her get a break. I know she and her mother never got along. I think she wanted to prove something to her.”

That was probably true, Amy thought with a pang. Rachael had desperately wanted her parents’ approval, but it never came. After their dad’s funeral, the split with her mother had only gotten worse.

“What about Bennett?” Johnnie asked.

“I told her he wasn’t for real,” Babs said, “but Rachael had a lot of ambition. She did what she thought she needed to do.”