Макс Коллинз - Road to Paradise

“What’s the problem?” She looked up in mock innocence and batted her eyelashes at Michael, which might have worked if he were eighteen and her baby blues hadn’t been so bleary. “Didn’t she come home or something?”

“You know she didn’t.”

Her father said, “Cindy! You told us Anna was fine !”

She gave him a dirty look and went back to playing with her keys.

Michael said, “You do know where she is.”

The girl said nothing.

“Where is she, Cindy?”

“I told you I don’t know.”

“Would you rather talk to the police?”

She looked up sharply. “What did I do?”

Michael shrugged. “My daughter’s been gone long enough for me to file a missing-persons report. You’re the last known party to’ve seen Anna. So you’re the first they’ll be talking to.”

“...What if I do know where she is?”

“Then you should tell me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised her. You guys are terrible to her.”

“Then I’ll tell you . She’s in Lake Tahoe.”

Cindy said nothing, but her eyelids flickered.

Sid Parham said, “Where have you been since yesterday, Cindy?”

“Driving.”

Molly Parham said, “Driving where? You’re going to get in trouble, young lady!”

Michael closed his eyes.

Then he opened them and said, “Cindy, I know Anna went back to Crystal Bay so she could attend prom.”

Sid Parham said to Michael, “You’re from St. Paul.”

Michael said, “Sid, I know I’m a guest in your home. But you need to let me handle this.”

“Well... sure... but...”

Michael rose, gave Parham a nod to come talk to him, out of the girl’s earshot. Near where the kitchen fed the living room, Michael said softly, “I have a big favor to ask, Sid — and I’m asking as one father to another. May I please talk to your daughter alone?”

“Oh, now, I don’t—”

“I’m not going to browbeat her, and I certainly won’t touch her. But I think having you and your wife there makes it harder for me to get through to Cindy.”

“Why would that be?”

“Kids this age take an attitude with their parents around. I’ve talked to Cindy half a dozen times, and she’s never been like this with me before. I think I can get her to relate to me... one-on-one, if you’ll give me the chance.”

Parham drew in a deep breath, looking more than ever like Uncle Fester; when the man finally spoke, Michael half-expected it to be in a high-pitched whiny voice.

But the voice was Sid’s usual baritone, and so gentle as to be almost sweet. “Listen, Michael — I know you love your little girl. Like we love ours. And I know all about how difficult it can be... So you go ahead.”

“Thank you, Sid.”

“Understand, if it gets loud, I’m coming in!”

“I understand.”

Parham nodded. “I’ll talk to Molly... Give me a minute.”

The man of the house went over, whispered in his better half’s ear; she frowned, started to say something, but he whispered again. And finally, reluctantly, she nodded.

Sid, walking his wife away from the kitchen table, a gentle guiding hand on her elbow, said, “We’ll be in the front room, if you need us.”

“Thank you,” Michael said.

As they left — looking like janitors in an art museum in those leisure suits — Cindy frowned. She seemed confused and perhaps a little worried.

Michael said to her, “How much did Anna tell you?”

Cindy looked past him and shrugged.

“Did she tell you that she was putting herself in danger?”

Cindy looked at her keys, fiddled with them.

He plucked the keys from her fingertips and set them down, with a small clunk, out of her immediate reach.

“Did she tell you that she was putting her mother and me in danger?”

Cindy folded her arms over her small flattened breasts. “She wanted to go to her prom. What’s so dangerous about that?”

Relieved to finally have confirmation of his theory, he asked, “How did she get there?”

The girl shrugged. Her emotions seemed on the verge of breaking through the sulk; the tiredness helped — it took energy to maintain a good pout, even for a kid.

“Did she tell you everything?”

“...Maybe.”

“Did she tell you the kind of people this involves?”

The girl looked away.

Were her eyes damp?

“You didn’t drive her there. If you had, you’d still be in Tahoe, staying till after prom, to make the round trip.”

She smirked, but the curled lips quivered. Somehow the blue eye shadow and mascara only made her look younger.

“What did you do, Cindy?” he asked, casual. “Meet the boyfriend halfway?”

The girl’s forehead tensed a little.

Thinking out loud, Michael said, “You drove halfway, and met Gary at a rest stop or gas station...? And he drove her the rest of the way, right?”

“Why ask if you know?”

“Not a rest stop. I’m going to say... Las Vegas. That’s about halfway, and that sounds like fun. But all that desert driving, it’s no picnic, is it?”

Tiny chin jutted. “What if I did drive her? I’m eighteen.”

“Without stopping it’d be maybe six, seven hours to Vegas. With pee breaks, and grabbing quick bites at diners, maybe eating in the car. You must have air-conditioning in that little Mustang your folks got you...”

“So what if I do?”

He sat forward. He kept his voice even, flat, only vaguely threatening. “Why are you back so late? Why didn’t you stay in Vegas longer?”

“You’re so smart. You tell me.”

“...Well, it sounded like more fun than it was. You’re right, you are eighteen, and you have to be twenty-one to get into the casinos. And those security boys can spot a fake ID at a hundred yards.”

Her eyes tensed; she was staring down through the glass table.

“So you drove up and down the Strip, taking in all those bright lights, and you had some food, drive-in maybe, and maybe shopped a little. Couple nice new malls, there. Did Anna and Gary spend the night in Vegas?”

She said nothing; but she swallowed.

“And then you kids fooled around Sin City this morning, nice breakfast, maybe a little shopping — there’s a record shop Anna likes there, with lots of British releases...”

Her eyes flashed a little. He was obviously dead-on. Seemed to frighten her that he had Anna pegged like that.

“I’m not psychic, Cindy. Our family’s spent a lot of time in Vegas, over the years, is all — I’ve even worked there. So the two of them headed out for Tahoe today, about midafternoon maybe? Three or four? Some more nasty desert driving ahead for ’em. But they ought to be there, by now. Like you’re here.”

She leaned an elbow on the glass table, rested her head against a hand.

“Where are they staying, Cindy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Cindy, how much did she tell you?”

“What do you mean? About what?”

“You know what I mean. And about what.”

She swallowed again; she was trembling. “Everything, I guess. That, that you... you ran casinos and stuff. And you’re testifying against these Corleone-type guys, so you’re, like... hiding here? In Tucson?”

“Right. And now Anna’s actions... and your actions... have put her and Gary, and me and Anna’s mother, and even you and your parents, at terrible risk.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

“It is crazy. These people are ruthless. They take a human life like you might swat a mosquito. Means nothing to them.”

She covered her face with a hand whose hot-pink nails were chipped a little. “I... I really don’t know where they’re staying... I just know they... they’re in Tahoe. I just know... just know Anna wanted to go to her prom.” She looked up with eyes soaked with tears, the mascara streaming in dark ribbons. “Why is that so wrong? Who’s gonna care about that, but her stupid parents?... S-sorry.”