Wonderland (24 page)

“Yes.” There was no denying the note of satisfaction in Glenn’s voice. “I’ve told you that before, Ma, but you never listen because you don’t want to hear it.” He looked at Vanessa and Donnie. “I was with Sergio the whole time. You’re welcome to call him. Anything else?”

“Yes, there’s one more thing.” Vanessa went in for the kill. “Why do you have twenty-four Wonderland ID cards in your bedroom, in the basement, in a locked box, inside the wall?”

“I . . .” Completely caught off guard, Glenn looked from Vanessa to his mother, to Donnie, to his mother, and back to Vanessa again. For once, his mother was quiet. She hadn’t been expecting the question, either. “I . . . you found those? I . . . I collect them.”

“You collect them?” Vanessa leaned forward, pushing her notebook aside to give the illusion that there were no barriers between them. “Meaning, you keep them as souvenirs? Are they your victims, Mr. Hovey? Is Aiden Cole one of your victims? Because his ID card was in there, too. Along with Blake Dozier’s. Why do you have Homeless Harry and the Wonder Wheel Kid’s cards? Did you kill them? Did you kill Blake Dozier before you left for Las Vegas?”

“It’s not . . . it’s not like that . . .” Hovey looked around again wildly, but even his mother seemed not to know what to say. “I found the ID cards at the park. They’re just lost cards. Of boys I knew. Of boys I . . . liked.”

“Liked?”

“You know,” he said. “Boys I saw around, and had crushes on.”

“They all looked the same,” Vanessa said. “All the boys are blond, and quite handsome. You have a type?”

“I . . . I call it the ‘Wonderland look.’ ” Glenn Hovey was wheezing louder now. “Boys that look like that always get hired at the park. They’re eye candy for the teenage girls who hang out at the park all summer. I like looking at them, is all.”

“Oh, Glenny,” his mother said in dismay.

“So what you’re saying,” Vanessa said, “is that every single one of those boys just happened to drop their Wonderland ID card somewhere, and you just happened to come along and pick it up? Including the one we know is dead, and the one we know is missing?”

“Well, they . . . they didn’t all lose them. Some of them . . . some of them I might have taken.”

“Because you killed them and wanted a souvenir?”

“No!” Glenn was starting to sweat. His body odor was detectable. Even his mother was wrinkling her nose. “I didn’t kill them. I just . . . wanted something of theirs. If they’re cute, I take their cards. They leave them everywhere, and it’s no big deal, they can get new ones made up, takes five minutes. I don’t even look at their names. If I took Blake’s, it must have been last summer, because I haven’t taken any cards since . . .” He glanced over at his mother. “Since I met Sergio.”

“Come on.” Vanessa let her disgust show. “That’s really your explanation? Do I look stupid to you?”

“It’s the truth.” Glenn’s wheezing was alarming now, and he was fumbling in his pocket. Pulling out an inhaler, he stuck it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. “I see a card, the boy’s cute, I take it.”

“You realize that’s about the lamest, saddest excuse I’ve ever heard, right?” She rolled her eyes. She stood up, and Donnie followed suit. “We have what we need for now. But you’re not going anywhere. We have a lot of calls to make to verify what you’re telling us. Settle in. You’ll be here for a while.”

Glenn and his mother were both quiet as Vanessa and Donnie let themselves out. But as soon as the door shut behind them, the screaming started up again.

“For the love of all that’s holy, what the fuck was
that
?” Donnie said, his eyes wide.

“That, my friend, is what happens when you live with your mother too long.” Vanessa sighed. “I love my son, but god help me if he’s still at home when he reaches middle age.”

The screaming match grew louder, and then there was the sound of a chair falling over.

“Should we go back in? Make sure they’re okay?”

“Just wait a moment.” Vanessa cocked her head toward the door. A minute later, the screaming subsided. She waved a hand. “They’re fine. They probably do that every day.”

“Do you believe him? Glenn Hovey, savior of lost Wonderland employee ID cards?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she said. “His excuse for having them is so pathetic I almost believe him.”

Vanessa checked her phone as she headed back down the hallway to her office. No text yet from Ava, which made sense, as her daughter would still be at work for a couple of hours before going to Katya’s house. But there were no messages from Oscar, either, and she found herself disappointed.

She wondered where he was.

Opening a new message window, she sent Oz a text.

I miss you.

THIRTY-ONE

B
ianca’s skill, Uncle Nick liked to say, was that she was exceptionally good at getting people to do what she wanted them to do. She enjoyed the look on Oscar Trejo’s face as her VP of operations took in the sight of her, dressed only in her red silk robe.

“Are you coming in?” she said with a smile.

He hesitated at the door, holding the reports she’d asked him to pull together. His gaze was feasting on all the parts of her that weren’t covered by the robe. It had been awhile since he’d seen her in it—well over a year, in fact—but his gaze told her that he remembered exactly what the red silk robe signified, and that she never, ever wore anything at all underneath it.

Bianca knew she looked beautiful. Her long red hair, normally in a bun during the day, hung to the small of her back. Very few people ever got to see her with her hair down—it was a privilege she reserved only for the special ones. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a fresh coat of red. They matched the silk robe she was wearing.

“I thought you wanted to discuss business.” The hitch in Oscar’s breath was unmistakable.

“We will,” she said. “But I’ve missed you. Things have been so distant between us this past year. It’s time we reconnected.”

“B, I thought I made it clear—”

“I know,” she said. “You’re seeing someone. Well, so am I. That’s never mattered before. Right here, in this moment, it’s just and you me. Nobody else exists.”

“Bianca . . .” The words caught in his throat as she loosened her robe. His eyes went straight to the sliver of skin between her breasts, now exposed.

“Remember the first time we made love?” She stepped back so he could take her all in. “It was the night of my twenty-eighth birthday. I came to you because I was sad and scared and alone, and you did everything you could to make me feel better. You’ve always taken care of me, Oz.”

“That’s not my job anymore.”

“You’ve always made me feel safe,” she said. “That’s why I always come back to you.”

Her robe fell open all the way, revealing her nakedness. She allowed the slippery silk to fall off her shoulders. One of her hands went to her breast, and she fondled her nipple, already hard. The other hand slipped between her thighs, where she touched herself lightly.

“I’ve missed you so much, Oz. There are things you do to me that no one else has ever done. You’re the only real man in my life now. You know that, don’t you? You’re the only one who counts.” She brought her fingers to her lips.

That was all it took. Men were so predictable.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” He dropped the reports where he stood and grabbed her roughly, his end-of-day stubble scratching her as he kissed her face, her neck, her collarbone, his hands everywhere all at once.

A few moments later, in the living room up against the window, he was inside her. Below them, the lights of Wonderland glistened. There were still people at the park, but it didn’t matter. At night, the windows of the admin building had a golden glow, and nobody would be able to see anything from the outside. And even if they could, it didn’t matter.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Bianca.” Oscar grunted in her ear as he thrusted. He was going deep and hard, but she’d been anticipating this all day and was ready for him. Her back moved up and down the window, which was cold on her skin, but well lubricated from their sweat. It had been awhile since she’d been fucked like this. She was teaching Xander a lot, just like she’d taught all the boys, but none of them would ever come close to matching Oscar’s strength, stamina, and natural aggression. “Every time I try to walk away, you suck me back in. You’re killing me, do you understand that? I hate you. And I hate what I’ve done for you, you fucking bitch.”

“Good,” she said, raising her hips to meet his, her fingernails clawing his back. “Harder. Fuck me like you hate me. The more you hate me, the rougher it gets, and you know that’s how I like it.”

•   •   •

She didn’t enjoy talking about anything personal, but men needed it occasionally, and so she forced herself to go along with it.

“Why am I here?” Oscar asked her.

Bianca lay unself-consciously on the carpet, a sofa pillow propping up the back of her head, a throw blanket around her thighs. The rest of her was exposed. She knew he liked to look at her. Looking at her naked made it very difficult for him to deny her anything.

“Because I’ve been wrong,” she said. “All these years, Oz, I’ve been wrong. I want to be with you.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to leave the park.”

She turned her body toward his. “Let’s pretend, for one moment, that you believe me. What would your answer be?”

Sighing deeply, he reached over and curled a finger around a lock of her hair. “I’m involved with someone, and I want to see where it goes. She’s . . . it’s . . . different this time.”

“You don’t want me?”

He put his face in his hands, lying back on the carpet. “No.” His voice was muffled. “I don’t. Not anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Bianca stared at him. Surely he was just testing her. Surely he didn’t really mean that. Because what would she do without Oscar? She’d never allowed herself to contemplate being at Wonderland without him, and now he was leaving her. Just as Patrick had. Just as Uncle Nick had. Ungrateful and selfish, all of them.

She stayed calm and reasonable as she spoke. “Fine. I understand. I guess it took you meeting someone new, and deciding to leave, to finally make me realize how much I’ve always loved you.”

“Don’t do that.” Oscar sat up and looked around for his clothes. His pants were on the sofa, his shirt was on the floor. “I need to go. This should never have happened. I’ll leave the reports with you, and if you still want to, we can discuss the sale of the park tomorrow.”

“Don’t go.” She put a hand on his thigh. “Please. We don’t have to make love again, but everything’s about to change, and I’m scared, Oz. The park is all I know. Can I just have this one last night with you? I won’t be able to sleep otherwise. Please? Stay?”

“You’ve never asked me to stay over before.” He looked at her, his brow furrowing. “Usually you’re kicking me out. This is strange for me.”

Bianca stood up, took him by the hand, and led him into the bedroom. She lay down beside him, tucking her head into the pillow beside his. “Just get some sleep. In the morning, we’ll simply be two old friends who’ve worked together a long time. But for now, for tonight, just be here with me. Okay?”

His face looked tired, and he opened his mouth to argue, but then changed his mind. “Okay.” He closed his eyes.

She listened as he fell asleep, watching the light from the midway below cast interesting patterns on the walls and ceiling, and across the signed Seattle Mariners baseball bat that was encased in glass and mounted on the wall opposite the bed. Bianca was not a baseball fan, but the bat had belonged to Uncle Nick, and she liked it where it was. The bat was the first thing she saw every morning, and the last thing she saw at night, and it reminded her of her uncle.

She didn’t want Oscar to leave her, and deep down, she knew he would. They all did, eventually. By summer’s end, Xander would leave her for college, but their relationship would be well over by then. Bianca always ended things well before they did. That way, it could never hurt.

She wasn’t good with people leaving.

It had been a terrible conversation all those years ago when Uncle Nick had announced his plans to take off, telling her that he wanted to see Africa, Australia, Europe . . . and that he was seriously considering selling the park.

“It’s time, B,” he’d told her, and she’d known exactly what those three words meant without having to ask. “There are so many things I want to do, and I want to do them while I’m still young enough to enjoy it.”

It was midnight, and the park was closed. Another high season was officially behind them and the celebrations were over. They were the only two people still on the premises, and they had just finished off the last piece of Bianca’s birthday cake. Her birthday always fell close to Labor Day weekend, and it wasn’t usually a happy time, as there was never anything to look forward to except a long winter and a quiet park. Wonder Workers would begin leaving in mass exodus, and only a small full-time staff would remain until the following summer.

“Where will you go?” Bianca could feel the panic rising from her gut. Her stomach churned, and her mouth tasted sour despite the sweet cake. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” Uncle Nick shrugged, looking more tired than she’d ever seen him. The fatigue ran from his eyes to his toes. He was swinging his baseball bat from side to side. It had signatures on it from a dozen Seattle Mariners baseball players, and was his prize possession. “All I know is I’m burned out. I need a break. I’m making you CEO.”

Bianca should have been thrilled. CEO before the age of thirty? But instead, she felt herself panic even more.

“You can’t leave,” she said. “I can’t run this place alone.”

“You won’t be alone.” He smiled at her, and it was his indulgent,
oh-you-silly-girl-you’ll-be-fine
smile. The bat twirled in his hands. “You have Oscar, you have Scottie, you have the entire management team to help you. I didn’t run this place by myself, and you don’t have to, either. Besides, you already know how to do my job. You have full access to all the accounts, and you’re the one who sends out those peppy emails every week from me anyway. Hell, you even sign my name better than I do. You’re practically running this place already. I won’t sell the park until the right offer comes along. But it will, and when it does, I’m letting it go.”

“And when that happens, what am I supposed to do?” Bianca asked. “Where will I go?”

“Anywhere you want.” Uncle Nick’s nonchalance, and the ease with which he was able to have this seriously important conversation, was infuriating. He tapped the floor with the bat, and the sound began to irritate her. Bianca reached forward and took it from him.

“But we’ve worked so hard . . .” The bat was sweaty in her hands, and she stared at it, because it was too hard to look at her uncle right now.

“Yes we have, and this is as good as it will ever be.” He turned to look at the park down below. Sparkling. Always sparkling. “I raised this place from the dead to become the largest amusement park in the Northwest. I’ve turned Seaside into the most profitable small town south of Seattle. I’ve made money, a lot of money. And most importantly, I’ve made my peace with the past. Jack Shaw didn’t get the better of me.” He turned and looked back at his niece. “Just like Patrick didn’t get the better of you. Neither did your injury. Look at you now, the success you’ve become. Look at us. We don’t
need
this anymore, B. And I know I don’t want it anymore.”

“Then give it to me.” The words were out of Bianca’s mouth before she thought them through, but as soon as she said them, she knew they felt exactly right. “Give me the park. Or I’ll . . . I’ll buy it from you.”

He smiled his indulgent smile again. “What, CEO isn’t enough for you?”

“Not if you’re going to sell it and put me out of a job.” She almost said
put me out of a
home
, but she caught herself in time. “There’s no point in being CEO of nothing.”

“I wish I could.” He smiled. “But I deserve top price for this place, and no bank would finance you at that number. Don’t worry, you’ll figure your life out. This was only ever supposed to be a pit stop for you anyway.”

“What if I go with you?” she said. “We’ll sell the park and travel together. We always said we wanted to go to Italy and Paris. So let’s do it.”

Uncle Nick shook his head. “This next phase of my life is something I need to do alone, B. It’s my journey, my adventure. You’ll find your own. Just give it time. When you’re ready, you’ll—”

That’s as far as he got before Bianca hit him with the baseball bat. It cracked the side of his cheek with a surprisingly crisp blow. The blood began to gush immediately from where it had cut his cheekbone. He looked at her, dazed and in shock, and opened his mouth to say something. But he wasn’t able to speak another word, because Bianca hit him again.

And again.

And again.

His blood splattered the sofa, the ceiling, the walls, the lamps. She continued to hit him until he stopped moving.

And then she made a call, to someone who loved her, and Uncle Nick’s body had been quietly and efficiently taken care of.

The furniture and the carpet were replaced. The walls and ceiling were repainted. It looked as if nothing bad had ever happened here, and that’s all that mattered. Life since then had gone on, with nobody the wiser that the beloved owner of Wonderland was dead.

She owed him so much. Maybe it was time to let him go. Maybe it was time to let them all go.

Beside her in bed, Oscar stirred, and Bianca touched his cheek gently. His face, though weathered from hard work and the sun, was handsome, his hair thick and dark with only traces of gray at the temples. For forty-eight, he was in excellent shape, not an ounce of fat, his muscles still hard and defined. Fine matted hair covered his arms and torso. He smiled slightly in his sleep, but he didn’t wake up.