Dragon Fruit Page 8

  ‘I’m not the first one. When you’re a trannie like me, it can be lonely, see?’ She traced a pattern in the dust on the glass tabletop. ‘No, not can be. It is lonely. Some people are just plain mean, and that’s almost better. Because the other ones, the ones that use you – to them you’re just an object, a thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I saw how it hurt, I saw it in the twist of her mouth. And I also saw how exhausting it must be for Chucha, to always be hiding a secret. Hiding, yet wanting to reveal at the same time – it was a bewildering sleight of hand, and no doubt very few people were cut out for it.

  ‘So … when somebody acts nice to you and wants to be close, you kind of want to respond. You know? I went down to Mexico over two years ago, to see my grandma. I really loved her. She was dying, and I was kind of messed up at the time. Leticia was nice to me, like she wanted to be my friend. Now I think maybe she was, you know, curious. Nosy. Anyway, one night it just happened.’ Chucha laughed a little.

  ‘We were drinking tequila. I don’t know, I must have been thinking about her brother or something. He was cute.’

  ‘And nine months later, you had a baby girl.’

  ‘Yes. Like I already told you, at first I thought everything was OK. I sent Leticia money, for her and the baby. When Rosamarwas three months old, I went down and saw her. She’s such a little doll, I fell in love with her right away, you know? But a few months after I got back, that’s when I heard from my cousin that Leticia was with some guy. A real asshole. They were living off what I was sending them. I figured, OK, I can afford it if this is what I have to do for my baby. But then, later on, I heard something else.’

  ‘Something worse.’

  ‘Way worse, worse than I told you. My cousin sent me a letter. She said I needed to get Rosie out of there, fast. Leticia and her boyfriend, they were neglecting Rosie. They weren’t beating her, but they were treating her real bad. She was dirty all the time and they were making her sleep on a towel in the corner. They gave her hardly any food. My cousin was trying to feed Rosie, but Leticia, she was all the time standing in the way. She didn’t want anybody on my side of the family to get involved.’

  ‘She wanted the money all to herself?’

  ‘Yeah, the money. That’s what it was.’

  As I started to respond, I heard a sharp rap from inside the office, on the front door. I walked in through the back and opened it.

  ‘What a dump.’ Deirdre Krause wrinkled her nose and shook her curly blond head. ‘I didn’t think it would be this bad. You can smell the mold from here.’

  ‘Deirdre. What can I do for you?’ I didn’t step aside. But the PD detective leaned to the left and looked past me.

  ‘The mold – or maybe something else. Got a visitor, Zarlin?’

  I turned my head to follow her gaze. Deirdre Krause was looking straight through the kitchenette doorway, directly at Chucha.

  ‘I’m busy, Deirdre. Do you want to make an appointment?’

  ‘What, you don’t have time to talk about a missing kid?’ She said it with aggression, as if a missing kid was somehow a bludgeon. ‘I thought you’d be interested – you’re plastering up flyers all over town.’

  This surprised me. Claudia and BJ must be moving fast, and so, it seemed, was Deirdre.

  ‘I have time. Just not right now.’

  ‘We’re gonna talk now, Zarlin. I’ve got something to tell you.’ Her voice had hardened, and the result was like the shrill whine of a drill in hardwood. ‘Get rid of the tranny ho.’

  My blood boiled, the way it will do from time to time. ‘You’re slandering a member of the public, Krause. Come back in thirty minutes if you have something to say, but get off my doorstep.’

  ‘Jaymie, it’s OK. I’ll call you later.’ Chucha had walked through the kitchenette into the office and now stood behind me. She was a good foot taller than Deirdre, but even so, she looked a little afraid.

  I started to protest, but then I stopped. This wasn’t about Chucha, it was about Rosie. And Chucha was begging me with her eyes.

  ‘So now you work for hos. That’s a new low, Zarlin, even for you.’ Deirdre had pushed past me into the office. ‘Where’s the short fat one that works for you? Couldn’t stand the stink from your clientele?’

  My blood pressure zinged and rang the bell.

  ‘Still pissed about Mike, Deirdre?’ I knew this was low and unworthy of me. Even so, I barely refrained from pumping a fist.

  ‘What, Dawson? As far as I’m concerned, he’s a pain in the ass.’

  She didn’t mean it, of course. Deirdre’s crush on Mike went back years. I knew she’d been overjoyed when Mike and I had split up last year, and now she was no doubt seething because we were back together.

  ‘You think you’re hot shit, don’t you, Zarlin.’ She completed her surveillance of the room and turned to face me. ‘I got a question to ask you. Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ I had to admit, my behavior was at its most foul around this woman.

  She pulled a folded square of paper from her pants pocket, opened it, and dangled Gabi’s flyer in front of my nose. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with the panga boat at More Mesa, would it?’

  ‘What if it does?’ I said with exaggerated nonchalance. ‘It’s my job, it’s what I do. All within the law, by the way. You’re thinking too hard, Deirdre. You could fry your brain that way.’

  Deirdre was very fair, and I watched as a dark flush crept up from her neck, millimeter by millimeter, to her hairline.

  ‘Don’t ask me why, Zarlin, but I came here to do you a favor. To warn you, all right?’

  ‘But now you’re going to say screw it,’ I prompted.

  I saw her hesitate. She wanted to tell me to go fuck myself, and who could blame her? But I suspected she’d been told to deliver a message. The woman was caught in a bind.

  ‘Go on, Deirdre. What did they tell you to say to me? You know, the ones who jerk your strings.’

  By the time Deirdre got the words out, she was snarling like a trapped bobcat. ‘Forget about the kid. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget about More Mesa and anything and anyone connected to it. I’m telling you, Zarlin, you have no idea what’s going on.’

  ‘Forget about the kid? I know you hate dogs, but I didn’t know you felt that way about kids, too.’

  ‘You idiot.’ Deirdre Krause choked. ‘You can go to hell for all I care. You don’t have a fucking clue.’

  The weekend storm had driven the surf across Leadbetter beach and up onto the tarmac, where it left behind heaps of yellow sand. I rode my Schwinn into the parking lot and slowed. The beach itself was blanketed in swathes of brown and green kelp steaming in the sun.

  The Great American Novel was parked at the far end of the lot. I pedaled up to the driver’s side window. The tattered hopsack curtain, which may or may not have been orange back in 1968, was drawn across the open window. It swayed in and out with the breath of the sea.

  I tapped on the rusted frame of the VW van. ‘Charlie, you home?’ Of course he was home. But maybe my old friend wasn’t inclined to talk.

  A full minute passed. ‘That you, Jaymie?’

  ‘It’s me. Sorry – are you taking a nap?’

  I heard some rustling and grunting. After a moment, the curtain drew back. ‘I was.’

  ‘Sorry, mate. But it’s eleven a.m.’ I grinned at my old friend. His eyes blinked through the holes in the gauze sack he wore over his head, to hide his burn-scarred face. The sack was newish, one a nurse had sewn for him when he was in the hospital with pneumonia six months earlier. I was sure she’d sewn it out of self-preservation: the original sack was so dirty it stood up by itself.

  ‘Yeah, well. When you get to my age, you’ll sleep when you damn well want to, too. Plus the young ones, they make so much noise down in the Funk Zone these days, they keep me awake all night. Sippin’ wine and spittin it out. What kinda nonsense
is that? How about some coffee, Jaymie girl?’

  I leaned my bike against the once-white van, now inscribed from the driver’s door around the back to the passenger door with Charlie’s novel. It was currently titled Life’s A Be-ach.

  ‘No thanks, Charlie. I’ve seen that rusty thermos of yours. I want to live a little longer.’

  ‘Iron supplement, Jaymie. Puts hair on your chest.’

  ‘Chest hair. Just what I need.’ I pulled the newly printed flyer from my pocket and unfolded it. ‘For once this isn’t a social call, Charlie. Here, take a look.’

  Charlie put out a hand banded with scar tissue and took the flyer. ‘She-it. This little one here, somebody took her?’ A rough growl sounded deep inside my friend’s corrugated lungs.

  ‘Somebody took her, all right. From a panga boat. Her mother was supposed to collect her off the boat, but it looks like someone else grabbed her first.’

  ‘Jesus, there’s some evil bastards in this world.’ His hand shook a little. ‘You talkin’ about the panga boat that landed up More Mesa way, couple a days back?’

  ‘That’s the one. Smuggling pot.’

  ‘I heard about that. OK, I’ll talk it up. You might want to get me some more a these papers. Plenty a people stick their heads in this window. Say, where’s Mike? You put your boyfriend on the case, too?’

  ‘Mike’s on a meth bust in the back country. He should be home in a few days.’

  ‘Hmm. You two married yet?’

  ‘Charlie, you know we’re not.’ Here it came, the third degree.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m like you, I guess. I like my freedom.’

  ‘Don’t you go dragging me into it. Me and Annie, we lived together for more’n thirty years before the hell fire took her.’

  ‘Sorry. I know.’ Charlie was referring to the campfire that had badly burned him and taken the life of his beloved partner. I gazed out to the ocean, where silver waves danced arabesques under the late winter sun.

  ‘When I mentioned freedom just now, I was talking about how you refuse to park the van up at my place at night. Seems a lot better than that restaurant parking lot you like to call home.’

  Charlie grunted. ‘You still pissed about that, Jaymie? I told you, I don’t like to be beholden, that’s all. Plus it’s too quiet up at your place. Too peaceful for an old coot like me. I’d wake up and think I was already dead and gone to heaven, what with that view you got, and all those damn birds singin’ their heads off.’

  ‘Bullshit. You just do what you feel like, that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘And I ain’t apologizin’ for it, so don’t hold yer breath.’

  I picked up my bike. ‘I’ll check back in a day or so, see if you’ve heard anything.’

  ‘Right-o. By the way, how’s my buddy Dex?’

  ‘Dexter misses you. He wants to know why you abandoned him.’

  ‘Misses the snacks I give him, you mean. Don’t you ever feed that pooch?’ He reached up to draw the hopsacking across the open window.

  ‘Charlie, wait. I almost forgot.’ I slid my hands off the grips to the cold handlebars.

  ‘I know you forgot. I don’t see no horehounds.’

  ‘Sorry. Next time, I promise.’

  ‘You better. I’m pretty sour these days. I need sweetnin’ up. So what was it you forgot?’

  ‘Something I meant to ask. You know some of the folks who sleep out near the beaches, right?’

  ‘Sure. I know most of ’em, and they know me.’

  ‘I wonder if you know this guy I met the other day. He hangs out at More Mesa.’

  ‘Not many go out there. It’s a good place, the cops pretty much leave you alone. But it’s too far away from food, water too. What’s this fella look like?’

  ‘He’s real thin, not too tall, maybe five-seven, five-eight. His hair is light brown, he’s, it’s hard to say, maybe twenty-five.’

  ‘You just described about halfa the people I know, Jaymie. This guy, he got any tats?’

  ‘No tats. He’s mentally ill. Hears things, I think, but he works hard to live in both worlds.’ I thought for a moment. ‘You know, there is something different about his looks. One of his eyes drifts out a little.’

  ‘Oh, hell. You’re talking about Sideview. Sure, I know Sideview. Don’t know his real name, but he’s been around for a while.’

  ‘What can you tell me about him?’

  ‘Sideview’s all right. He didn’t used to be so confused, I think the outdoor life’s been tough on him. He’s real shy, tries to stay out of sight. You know, I think maybe he grew up right here in Santa Barbara, but I ain’t ever seen any family try to help him. Is he in trouble, that why you’re asking?’

  ‘He’s not in trouble, not exactly. But he saw what happened out at More Mesa the other night. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he doesn’t trust me much.’ I shrugged. ‘Can’t say I blame him.’

  ‘Wanna know how to get him to trust you? Talk to him about Brodie. Tell him Brodie was your brother.’

  ‘He knew Brodie?’

  ‘Yeah. Brodie tried to look after Sideview, helped him out of a jam once or twice. Your brother was like that, Jaymie. Not so different from somebody else I know.’

  EIGHT

  ‘Hi, Jaymie. Listen, I’m here to talk to you about the brat. The one you’ve got on the poster.’

  I heard Gabi, who’d hunkered down behind the computer screen, suck in her breath.

  Del Wasson had slipped. He’d just revealed his less attractive side, namely, his character.

  ‘The little girl, you mean.’

  ‘Yes, the little girl.’ Dark Eyes corrected himself and smiled prettily. At least he was sharp enough to know he’d taken a misstep. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you some questions.’

  ‘So – Deirdre’s not in charge of the case?’ I loved to play dumb.

  Del looked surprised. ‘Officer Krause? What’s she got to do with it?’

  ‘She dropped by yesterday. Wanted to talk about the same thing as you. It sounded like she was in charge.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m curious – how come I get two visits from the PD within twenty-four hours, both about the same non-issue?’

  And I was curious. Very.

  ‘We – me and Deirdre – we’re working this together, OK? And it’s not what I’d call a non-issue, not if it involves a missing child. Do you see a problem with that?’

  His reply was lame. No. It sounded like a flat-out lie. ‘No problem at all, officer. Fire away.’

  Del still looked confused. But he’d assumed his usual fallback position: spreading charm like manure. ‘Mind if I sit down, Jaymie?’

  ‘Fine.’ I indicated the hot seat for Officer Wasson, as I had on his previous visit. Del didn’t want to sit – he just wanted to get cozy. Best to avoid the couch.

  He sat in the chair and I perched on the edge of the desk. I could smell his musky cologne.

  ‘So, Jaymie. I assume somebody hired you to find their kid. Am I right?’

  ‘Dead on the money, Del.’

  He leaned back in the hot seat and crossed his legs. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Oh, come off it. You know that’s confidential.’

  ‘Mmhmm.’ Del looked over at the desk, where Gabi was still trying to hide behind the computer screen. ‘Excuse me, miss?’

  Gabi’s head popped up over the top of the screen. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, you.’ Del smiled. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Rufina Martinez.’ This wasn’t a lie. Rufina and Martinez were two of Gabi’s names, just not the main ones.

  ‘Rufina, unlike your boss here, you seem like a woman who has respect for the law.’

  Gabi’s eyes slid over to mine. ‘Yes, I respect all the laws. And so does Miss Jaymie.’

  ‘Very good. You respect all the laws, plus The Law, right?’ Del pointed a casual finger at his chest. ‘The Law. Meaning me.’

  ‘Oh. Uh huh.’ Like a frog sinking below the surface, Gabi had dropped
so low again behind the screen that only her eyebrows showed.

  ‘So if I ask you who the client is, who wants to find that poor missing girl, you’ll tell me, right?’

  ‘There are lots of laws,’ Gabi muttered. ‘Like about not telling stuff you don’t want to.’

  ‘Yes, there are lots of laws, aren’t there.’ Del got to his feet and walked around the desk to stand behind Gabi. ‘For example, there are laws about not remaining in the US without a visa.’

  ‘Harassment,’ I snapped. ‘You asked your question and got your answer. Now cease and desist.’

  By this time I’d stepped over behind the desk, too. The frog was hunkering down between Del and me like a stone.

  ‘Unless there’s something else, Wasson, you need to move on.’

  ‘Know what? Plenty of my co-workers wouldn’t put up with your lip. Lucky for you, Zarlin, I’m an easygoing kind of guy.’

  Late that afternoon I was still imprisoned in the kitchenette, attempting to tackle a stack of papers my PA had slid under my nose, when the office phone rang. I heard Gabi answer in English, then switch over to Spanish.

  I possess a modicum of Español. But as the conversation progressed, Gabi’s words grew more staccato and incomprehensible, till they rat-tat-tatted like machine gun fire.

  At last the phone banged down and the office was quiet – for a moment.

  ‘What a stupid man! Did you hear that, Miss Jaymie?’

  ‘Yep. But I didn’t understand a word.’

  I heard her shove back her chair. ‘It was very strange!’ She appeared in the doorway. ‘Some guy, he called about the flyer.’

  ‘But that’s good.’ I tossed down my pen. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Waita minute, OK? I don’t know it’s so good.’ She smoothedthe hem of her fuzzy velour sweatshirt. ‘He talked Spanish. So in the beginning I thought, maybe this is the one we are looking for.The one from the panga boat that maybe took Rosie.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘There are two buts. First, his Spanish was wrong.’

  ‘Wrong? What, you mean he made mistakes?’

  ‘No, no mistakes. But I could tell, Miss Jaymie, he wasn’t from Mexico. That accent, it was Tejano. And I got the idea the guy speaks English good, maybe it’s his first language even. But he don’t want me to know that.’