Brian Freeman - The Cold Nowhere

‘I really don’t think I’ve ever met him,’ Cat said. ‘I’m sorry if that’s the wrong thing.’

Serena stood up, too. ‘Don’t be sorry. If you never met him, that’s good.’

Cat nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘If you need anything, we’ll be right outside,’ Stride said. ‘Try to get some sleep.’

Cat reached for Serena’s hand. ‘Will you still take me to see Dr. Steve in the morning?’

Serena smiled. ‘I promise.’

The two of them left her in the bedroom and closed the door. Cat wasn’t tired, but she turned off the light. She preferred the darkness; she could hide inside it. On the other side of the window, snow danced in the wind. She climbed off the bed and stared outside. The grass was already white.

She opened the window and squeezed her head and shoulders into the night air. She wore a pink sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, and her feet were snug inside slippers. Snowflakes made moist drops on her cheeks. She felt them in her hair. A couple of houses had turned on their holiday lights, making the neighborhood look like Christmas again. Not far away, a dog barked; it was small, with a tiny yipping howl, like a terrier pretending to be a Great Dane. It made her smile.

Cat looked at the ground and her smile bled away.

Beneath her window, there were footprints in the snow.

‘I got a head start,’ Brooke told Maggie, holding up a glass of white wine that was nearly empty. ‘This is my second glass. I’m already a little buzzed.’

Maggie slid into the booth beside her. ‘I’ll catch up.’

They were at Black Woods on the north end of London Road. It was Brooke’s favorite spot. Maggie found her eyes drawn to an empty table for two near the window. She knew from her investigation that it was the table where Kim Dehne had spent Saturday evening with Cat. Her last evening.

‘Bad day?’ Brooke asked, watching the frown on Maggie’s face.

‘I have an uncanny knack for screwing up my life.’

Brooke pushed her straight blonde hair back behind her ear. ‘Don’t we all?’

The waitress brought Maggie a matching glass of Pinot Grigio, and Maggie finished half the glass with her first swallow. ‘I started the day by accusing my boss of murder.’

Brooke choked on a slice of pepper-seared ahi. ‘What?’

‘I saw a video of one of Cat’s sessions with Roslak,’ Maggie said. ‘He tried to bring her back to the night her parents were killed. She made it sound like someone was there when Marty killed Michaela. That Marty didn’t necessarily pull the trigger on himself.’

‘That’s crazy.’

‘Yeah, well, I let my mouth get ahead of my brain and asked Stride whether he did it. Stupid. Mostly, I’m just pissed off at him. Plus, Serena’s back in town. That doesn’t help.’

‘Big surprise,’ Brooke said. ‘You had to see that coming.’

‘I know. It shouldn’t bug me, but it does. I’m letting it get in the way of my new thing, too.’

‘Yes, I hear you’re dating a cop,’ Brooke said, but when she saw Maggie slam down her glass of wine, she blanched. ‘I’m sorry, babe, is that supposed to be a secret? Because everyone knows.’

‘Damn that Guppo,’ Maggie said. ‘Do you remember Ken McCarty?’

‘Sure.’

‘He and I have been hooking up.’

Brooke’s face registered her disapproval. ‘I’m not trying to interfere, but you don’t exactly have a winning track record with men.’

‘No, you’re right.’ Maggie finished her wine just as the waitress brought a second glass. ‘Listen, I need your help on something. We’re hearing about an upper-crust prostitution ring in the city. Guys with money. Kind of like the Nice Guys ring in Minneapolis a few years back. You know, lawyers and execs who are willing to pay for high-end girls.’

‘Not too many high-end girls at my place,’ Brooke said.

‘I’m thinking about college girls who need the money,’ Maggie told her. ‘Anyone like that drop in for an STD test?’

‘Sure, but most of them don’t give us a name.’

Maggie frowned. ‘How about Lowball Lenny? Any rumors about him paying for upscale girls?’

‘Lenny?’ Brooke seemed genuinely shocked. ‘Where did you hear his name?’

‘He hosted a party on the Frederick . Cat was there, along with some other girls. Paid companionship.’

‘Yeah, I knew about the party. The girls were talking about it last week. I didn’t hear Lenny’s name. I can’t believe he’d risk getting caught up in a scandal like that.’

‘The cock wants what the cock wants,’ Maggie said.

‘Why the interest?’ Brooke asked. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Margot Huizenfelt may have been digging into this prostitution ring when she disappeared.’

‘And you think she got too close?’

‘Maybe. Except now we have a new problem.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Dory Mateo,’ Maggie said.

Brooke put her glass down, and her brow furrowed with concern. ‘Dory? What about her?’

‘I found a knife in her room that was used in one of the murders last weekend.’

Brooke’s long, slim fingers covered her mouth. ‘Oh, my God, no.’

‘She was also one of the last people to see Margot alive.’

‘Dory’s not a murderer,’ Brooke said.

‘Then why is she running? She left the Seaway in a big hurry. No one’s seen her since.’

‘I–I saw Dory last night. She was scared. She thought someone was coming after her.’

Maggie scowled at Brooke. ‘Why the hell didn’t you call me?’

‘She was strung out. I didn’t believe her. She wasn’t making any sense.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She heard about Margot disappearing. She was afraid she was next.’

‘Next? Why?’

Brooke hesitated. ‘I can’t — I can’t say. Dory’s my friend.’

Maggie curled her fingers tightly around Brooke’s wrist. The woman’s skin was warm, and her pulse raced. ‘Brooke, if you think you’re protecting Dory, you’re not. You’re just making it worse.’

‘I’m telling you, she was paranoid because of the drugs. She had it in her head that Margot disappeared because of something Dory told her. I told Dory she was wrong. There was no connection. There couldn’t be, not after all this time.’

‘What did Dory tell Margot?’ she asked.

‘I shouldn’t say anything. It’s not my place. You need to ask her about it.’

‘Goddamn it, Brooke, I’m asking you . What did Dory tell Margot?’

Brooke stared at the table. Her pretty face was beet red. ‘It was years ago. It has nothing to do with today. Dory hated herself for it.’

‘ Tell me .’

‘It was just before her sister was killed,’ Brooke said. ‘Dory needed money for drugs. She was desperate. He knew she’d do anything for cash, so he — he paid her for sex. She never forgave herself.’

‘Who? Who paid her?’

‘Marty,’ Brooke said. ‘It was Marty. Dory slept with him.’

*

The footsteps led away from her window. Where they ended, Cat saw Dory in the middle of the lawn. She held a cigarette in one hand, and her other hand was wrapped around her stomach. The smoke from the cigarette mingled with the steam she exhaled into the cold air.

Cat squirmed out of the bedroom window and dropped to the ground. The snow was slick under the rubber soles of her slippers. She slid like a skier across the lawn to her aunt and threw her arms around her.

‘Dory! I’m so glad you’re okay!’

Dory hugged her back limply, and Cat saw that her aunt’s face was as pale as the snow, with tears making icy streaks on her cheeks. Dory’s eyes were bloodshot. Her entire body trembled.

‘Oh, my God, what’s wrong?’ Cat asked.