Bye Bye Bones (A CASSIDY CLARK NOVEL Book 1) (14 page)

“I’ll follow up with Cassidy Clark in the morning. You go to the police.”

“Fine.”

And it was fine. Jessica slid back on a pool float and looked up toward the astonishing Tucson morning blue skies, then back at the man she loved. The satisfaction of resolve set in.

It was just the beginning of the satisfaction, as Jaxon dived back in to the pool.

“You can’t make love to me on this float,” Jessica squealed. “Even if it is a double.”

“I know my floats. Just you watch my sex-pertise.”

“Holy crap. Who are you?’ he said.

“I’ve had a little work done. All part of the job.”

“My ass. New hair. War-paint makeup. You’re wearing something decent for a change.”

“Don’t chap my ass. Let’s get down to business and tell me why you called me in.”

“Still a potty mouth, but you look great. And I know you’re up to something.”

“Maybe something. You told me about the white van.”

“And we have the resources. We’re on it.”

“Yada. Yada. Yada. You have the resources, but not the manpower and a, shall we say—tight rein around your neck. That’s why you love me.”

“Touché. But, I have a love-hate relationship with you, Cassie. Now, what’s up?”

“Maybe I’m exploring a maybe connection between a few of our missing women. Maybe.”

“Damn! I knew I could count on you. You’re my new best friend.”

“You don’t have any friends, Chief.”

“Touché, again.”

“We need to break this story. Big time. Pronto. You do it with a formal press conference or I will. A real story this time. Not some crap hearsay lines and lame reporters who are eager to run in print and on the air.”

“I have your basic information, Jessica. I have a copy of your police report and I know all about your trouble with Sandra Vickery. The restraining orders may have been violated. Maybe not. Why don’t you fill me in on any details regarding your visit to the hospital?”

Jessica filled me in, as best as she could. She was exhausted, but needed to spill her guts.

“Jessica, do you know long it might take for this particular drug, chloride hydrate, to impair you?”

Jessica had never asked the question of the doctor.

“I’ll call the hospitalist in the morning. I’ll get my records and courier them to you.”

“I didn’t get the invitation, either,” Schlep said, with a sheepish flush creeping across his face and his chest slightly caving.

“In my married days I would have received the invitation. Not anymore,” Carson said. “They weren’t worth the price of the marriage.”

“You’re both disappointed I beat you to this, but this is a team effort. And this puts direct contact between the hairdresser and our socialite, even though this hairdresser didn’t have her as a client. And we have one more.”

Schlep pulled up to the edge of his chair and licked his lips, saying, “I’m all ears.”

“It appears that our congresswoman was there, too. She uses her maiden name when making any reservations, in light of the tragedy with Gabrielle Giffords.

“And that, my good friend, brings us up to three victims, if not ambiguously, connected.”

“Cassidy Clark.”

The timid voice whined, “I think I may know something.”

“It’s late. Who is this?”

“Ummm. Well, my name is Mandy. Mandy Palmer. I’m worried about my boss. She’s been gone.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Lori Shields. My boss. Shields Interior Design.”

“Hold on.” I turned on my table lamp, turned on the recorder, and put the call on speaker, all while mopping up the spilled water with nothing but scented facial tissues.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“Look, I don’t watch a lot of news. It’s against my principles.”

I could relate, though I never thought about it as a principle.

“I’ve been growing worried about her and I was talking to our mail carrier. She told me about all these missing women. It includes her. I think.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Kinda glad to find your name. I have a few minor problems with the police. Some weed, some public drunkenness. Maybe naked once. And a few outstanding tickets. Even if I did talk to them I don’t think they’d take me seriously and I’d have to pay some fines I can’t afford.”

It sounded like this girl didn’t think much.

“Mandy, how long has your boss been gone?”

“That’s the thing. She takes off on long trips all the time. Buying trips. She usually leaves for about a week, but she’s been gone over two. And I thought her husband reported her missing, but he’s gone way more than her. He’s not exactly a Prince Charming, but I guess he finally did go to the police. Like yesterday or something.”

“And you haven’t heard from her?”

I could hear Mandy yawn. I tried to muffle mine.

“That’s not unusual. She leaves on her trips. But not like this. Over two weeks. And I need my paycheck.”

“Where did she tell you she was going?”

“Guadalajara. We have a cheap client that designed his own kitchen and bath hardware, and he wants a mega-wad of them cast in bronze. Lori told him she’d get the job done in a foundry somewhere down there.”

“Mandy, is it okay if I come visit tomorrow?”

“That would be fun. We’re in the Lost Barrio district. You can’t miss it. A huge orange and blue awning. Lori’s a Bronco fan. I’m supposed to be there by nine, but can we make it after ten?”

When the cat’s away the mice play.

“Mandy?”

“In the back. I’ll be right out.”

Looking around, I saw nothing out of the ordinary but samples of everything from flooring to window décor, to a few random architectural pieces. Everything seemed normal except for Mandy’s desk. Three stacks of files. A candle. Several pairs of sunglasses and granola bars, half-eaten. A shriveled up teabag.

She slid up from behind me, wearing what I would call a pink tutu, over a full-body leotard in vivid green.

“Oh, those muffins smell divine. Thanks. Are they gluten free?”

No introductions needed, I guess. I told her I thought they likely had plenty of gluten. She grabbed one.

“Coffee?” I offered.

“Bad for you. Really. Would you like some cleansing juice?”

I didn’t respond. “May I sit down?”

“Sure. Let’s sit on the sofa.”

The desk opposite hers was large, and free of clutter, but I took the sofa with her.

“Mandy, do you have any idea as to why no one has heard from Ms. Sheilds’ family?”

“Oh, crap. None. She’s a loner if I’ve ever seen one. What do you call that when you never marry? She’s like that, but she’s married. It’s just that they never are together. I guess it’s a marriage of convenience. No one wants to file for divorce because they’re happy doing their own thing. I’m surprised it took her husband so long to report her missing, but like I said, it’s a weird relationship. Almost platonic, if you can imagine that.”

Sadly, I could imagine that.

“Do you happen to have a photo of her?”

“Not really. Her husband must have given the police one.”

I’d checked it out. A ridiculous head shot that might have been a selfie. And only one photo.

“How would you describe her, physically?” I asked.

“Old. Way old. I think she might even be forty. She has a pretty good body. Big boobs. Pretty face, but I think she’s had some work done. At least she’s always getting facials that end up looking like more than facials to me.”

“Can you help me create a specific timeline of when she left? Help me fill in some blanks?”

“I know I look flighty, but I can read a set of architectural plans like you read a Denny’s menu. I’m all in. Just no police. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Then I’ll go print out our schedule.”

“Great, but Mandy. Can you find out where Mrs. Shields, Lori, went for all of those facials?”

“You look different, Cass,” Schlep said.

“You don’t. Let’s get to work.”

“Damn. We aren’t getting anywhere. This Mandy girl is a friggin’ social butterfly with a wee bit of brain. She only uses it here and there. Still, we can confirm one more solid shared name to the list of missing people.”

“You’re kidding? Who?” I asked.

“I scoured the calendar Mandy gave us for the last six months. Cryptic, but it turns out Lori Shields is a fan of weekly facials, and she frequents the northwest
Cosas Buenas
Spa and Salon,” Schlep said.

“Manning is apprised of my updated information. I didn’t use the girl’s name. Just said I stumbled onto some information. She didn’t want the police to have her name.”

“That will fly,” Schlep added with a factitious tone.

“It flies because he wants us to win here. The department has cut us off, but he’s still cheering for our team.”

“And you’ll keep rolling on, without pay.”

“Get a list of all of the interior design clients. The big ones in the last few years. It’s a long shot, but maybe something we will connect more dots.”

“You want me to interact with that giddy girl?” Schlep asked.

“Opposites do attract.”

“Chief David,” I ended up addressing him, “These missing person reports are escalating. Women. Pretty women. It’s time. We need to go to the press. The public needs to know. Specific rumors needs to be affirmed or denied, and without pause.”

The chief looked down at a polished floor. And his not-so-polished shoes. “You know I can’t do this, and you know why.”

“Damn the politics. You know I don’t abide by that game. I follow my own weak scruples. We have family members that are now victims. They need to know what we have. They need to know that they may not be alone.”

“Is that my warning?”

“That’s my word. I stand behind it.”

“No Michael Scores?”

“Hell, no. I’m calling Jessica Silva,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but you have my official unofficial blessing. This way you’re on your own. The mayor can’t pin it on me, and neither can the Feds, as if they care about anyone beyond the congresswoman.”

“Good. One more thing.”

“Damn it, Cass. It’s always one more thing with you.”

When Chief called me Cass, I knew he was weak in the knees and a sucker for what I might need. Calls me Cassidy, I’m in trouble.

“I’m going to organize a meeting between the families. You can come, but I think I’ll get more out of the group without you. For now. You can bet that they will want to see you eyeball to eyeball. All those politics that burden you? They don’t bother me. The grieving families and friends bother me.”

“Good. Go for it. And hey, Cassie?” He said as he turned to leave his own office with no explanation.

“What?”

“You really do look terrific. I hope you can only begin to feel that way.”

“Jessica, I enjoy getting to know you, but why are we meeting? You said it wasn’t about Sandra Vickery.”

“I have what I hope will be a pretty good reason. I want to help with those missing women. What can I do, besides any air time?”

“I’m setting up a meeting for all of the families and friends of our growing list of missing women. Anyone that wants to attend. You can report that. I just need to find a place.”

“Easy. Both counts,” Jessica said. “Jaxon’s country club.”

I shook my head. “I think that might be too posh. We want everyone to feel comfortable. Like they belong.”

“Nonsense. There’s a room adjacent to the pro shop. Totally casual, it’s set up for poker nights and that kind of thing. It even has a separate entry. The club is closed on Mondays, but Jaxon can reserve the room and staff will provide refreshments. On Jaxon’s dime, of course,” she winked.

“Then it’s set. Next Monday night. I’ll get you a head count. But Jess, on that comfort thing—I don’t want this to turn in to a media frenzy. Just you. Maybe a cameraman. Set up in the back. If people want to talk to you, they’re all yours.”

“You can’t have it both ways. You want people to know about the meeting, People will be there. You are making an unofficial announcement, is that right? And you know they’re going to ask about the police. Demand answers.”

“I know how to dodge bullets. We want them to share information with one another. I’ll be the facilitator, with humungous ears. Just catch me when I fall.”

“Maybe all the talk at our brunch. I don’t know. But I swear a white panel van has been following me all day.”