Brian Freeman - Goodbye to the Dead (Jonathan Stride Book 7)

Sissel tugged on his sleeves. ‘Sorry.’

Serena cast her eyes around at the handful of men at other tables. She leaned across the bar and lowered her voice. ‘Look, this woman in Amsterdam with her throat cut? The police there think she was a sex slave. Do I need to tell you what that’s like? Kelly Hauswirth may have been headed for the same life. You’ve got foreign sailors in and out of this bar every day. Somebody knows something. I want to know what you’ve heard. Rumors. Gossip. Whatever.’

‘If I hear anything, I don’t talk about it. It’s not good for my business. Or my health.’

Serena sighed with frustration. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a card. ‘If your ears start working again, give me a call.’

Sissel bent the card between two fingers and flicked it to the floor. Laughter rippled around them. ‘Whatever,’ he said.

Serena stalked out of the bar. Throaty catcalls followed her to the street. She emerged into the afternoon sunlight and shut the door sharply behind her. It was hot under a blue sky. Her blue jeans hugged her legs, and she stood atop slingback sandals with high heels. She wore a white tank top, and her wavy black hair scattered across her shoulders. She slid sunglasses over her face and walked diagonally across the street to the road that led down to Irving Park. Power lines streaked over her head.

She saw the wall of trees. Tucked inside them, invisible, were the muddy steps to the creek. She remembered the chase, but she wished she remembered more. His face. His smell. Anything about him. She only knew that he was ruthless. He’d killed without hesitation, and he could kill again.

Serena had a weakness for lost girls. Like Kelly. Like Cat. She’d been lost herself as a teenager, and she knew all about predators. The drug dealer who’d used her as his whore was long gone, but he lingered in her life in ways she couldn’t escape. She was closed off from people. She didn’t trust easily. She’d tried for years to get past things she couldn’t get past, before realizing they were simply part of who she was.

Jonny lived the same way, for different reasons. He was wary of the future, wary of believing that anything would last. His affair with Maggie had shaken her, but there was a certain inevitability about it. Maggie was in love with him. Sooner or later, that attraction was bound to blossom into something when Jonny was vulnerable. Serena blamed herself a little for not preventing it. She’d tunneled inside herself when he needed her. She couldn’t pry him out of his own shell because she was locked in hers.

But not anymore. She’d come a long way in six months alone. She’d made peace with a lot of things about who she was and who Jonny was. There was really just one ghost left between them.

Her name was Cindy.

‘You’re the cop, aren’t you?’ said a voice behind her.

When Serena turned around, she saw the waitress from the bar who was a friend of Cat. ‘I am,’ she replied. ‘It’s Anna, isn’t it?’

The girl nodded. ‘Anna Glick.’

Anna was older than Cat. Maybe twenty or twenty-one. She was anorexically skinny, all bones. Her makeup was so dark it was practically Goth, and her look was supplemented by studs in her nose, eyebrows, and lips. Spiky orange hair jutted out from under a wool cap. Serena could see in the girl’s eyes the smart, cynical expression of someone who knew how to read people and calculate the odds of getting what she wanted from them.

‘So how’s Cat doing?’ Anna asked.

‘Fine.’

‘She lives with you, huh?’

‘Yes, she does.’ Serena added: ‘Cat says you helped her out when she was on her own. Found her places to stay.’

‘I did what I could. Not just for her.’

‘I’m grateful. I’m glad someone had her back in those days. But Cat doesn’t need that kind of help anymore.’

Anna’s lips bent into a smirk. ‘In other words, stay away from her?’

‘It’s not about you. I just think it’s better if Cat cuts the cord with her past entirely. I hope you understand.’

‘Yeah, I hear you. Whatever you say. Just so you know, Cat came to see me, not the other way around. And just so you know something else, I have a house and, like, four jobs. Waitressing. Data entry. Medical coding. I’m not going back to who I was.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean anything personal.’

Anna shrugged. She had a chip firmly lodged on her shoulder. ‘You over here talking to Fred?’

‘That’s right. How long have you worked at the bar?’

‘About a year.’

Serena removed the photograph from her pocket of the dead woman in Amsterdam. She showed it to Anna, who didn’t flinch. The girl had a tough shell.

‘Do you remember seeing this woman around here?’ Serena asked.

‘What did Fred say?’

‘Does Fred’s memory affect yours?’

‘He doesn’t like us talking about what happens in the bar. Especially to cops.’

‘Well, Fred’s inside, and you’re out here with me,’ Serena said.

Anna examined the picture again. ‘I don’t think so, but I’m only here three days a week. Welcome to the part-time economy. If she was here, it was when I wasn’t working.’

‘What about the girl who was killed outside the bar? Kelly Hauswirth. You served her that day, right?’

‘Yeah, vodka and lemonade. She didn’t touch a drop. I already talked to you people. I carded her when she got to the bar, but I didn’t remember her name or where she was from. All I look at is the birth date.’

‘How long was she there?’

‘Couple hours.’

‘Did you talk to her?’

‘Sure. We were BFFs. “What can I bring you?” “Vodka and lemonade.” “You still okay on that drink?” “Fine, thanks.”’

Anna had a supple voice. Harsh and gravelly when she was being herself, as if she could scare off the world. Sweet and convincing when she channeled Kelly Hauswirth. When you lived on the street, you learned to be whoever your next meal ticket needed you to be.

‘Did Kelly say who she was meeting?’

‘No.’

‘Anybody hit on her?’ Serena asked.

‘You saw what she looked like. Lots of guys hit on her. She shot them all down.’

‘Are there guys in the bar who don’t take no for an answer?’

‘Sure, we’ve got plenty of those. I ran interference with anyone that was getting too fresh. The boys don’t mess with me. If I tell them to back off, that’s what they do.’

‘So you had to help Kelly with some of them?’

Anna tugged her wool cap lower on her forehead. ‘I told some of the drunker ones to leave her alone. It was no big deal.’

‘Have you seen others like her in the bar? Girls waiting for somebody? Maybe a girl from out of town, with a suitcase?’

‘No, but like I said, I’m a part-timer.’

Serena nodded. She didn’t think Anna was sharing everything she knew, but talking to cops was an occupational hazard. ‘Tell me something, Anna. Does Cat have a boyfriend?’

‘You should ask her about that,’ Anna replied. ‘Not me.’

‘She says no.’

The girl shrugged. ‘Then I guess she doesn’t.’

‘If Cat shows up here again, I’d appreciate it if you give me a call.’

‘So you can come drag her out?’

‘Exactly.’

‘You’re a real mother superior,’ Anna said.

‘No, but I’ve been in her shoes,’ Serena told her. ‘And yours.’

Janine Snow waited for her visitor.

To her surprise, she found that she looked forward to visits from Howard Marlowe. He came twice a month during the summers, less frequently during the school year. He told her about his research, his book, his determination to find evidence to set her free. When he ran out of things to say about Jay’s murder, which wasn’t often, he talked about his life, his dreams, his students, his daughter, and his wife.