Olivia looked so concerned that Mary burst out laughing. She didn’t have the heart to tell her how disappointed she really was, so she nodded and smiled. “It’ll be good to look around, and we can have a good time. I’ll be fine here, and as you said, there’s Victoria.”
“Victoria’s big in comparison. We’ll go down together, and I’ll show you around. Then you can go back on your own and have some fun. There’s a ferry over to Port Angeles that you can take the car on and drive down to Seattle in the States for a couple of days. All you have to do is keep in touch by phone, okay?”
Mary thought the south end of town and Victoria down the highway might just do the trick, and she intended at the earliest opportunity to spend an evening on Victoria Crescent and hike up the hill to see what the hookers were up to.
Olivia saw the look and recognized it. She’d been there herself and had been lucky enough to escape unscathed. Her little sister was in for some trouble. She saw in her the same touch of arrogance, the same lust for the edge, the same sullen, knowing sensuality. She knew Mary as well as she knew herself and wondered how to protect her, shy of locking her up. Try to stop her and she’d push even harder; try to reason with her and she’d listen politely, eyes blank, and let it all flow by; try to stick with her and she’d find a way to wiggle free. There was nothing to do but let her go and try to pick up the pieces.
They finished their coffees and wandered up the street, past the Flying Fish and the Modern, and turned down toward Pacifica’s tower on Front Street. It was early afternoon, the sun throwing bright spots around like confetti as the sky carried in clouds from the west.
That evening, Olivia took Mary to the Cactus Club for dinner. They enjoyed their meal and planned a drive to Victoria the following day. They’d have fun together, they decided, while Olivia still had time off work. After that, Mary would be on her own. “You think you can handle that?” Olivia asked.
Mary grinned. “Just watch me!”
◆◆◆
Mary Chan wasn’t impressed with Victoria. Olivia had tried hard to sell the place, but it was still small. The harbour was nice and there were a lot of the English colonial-style buildings she knew from the port area in Singapore. There was also a tiny Chinatown, and even a few clubs she’d investigate when she was by herself, but really, the day with Olivia had been a bust.
Victoria Crescent in Harbour City, though, that was closer to what she was looking for. Olivia had warned her away, and that was promising.
So here she was, back in Harbour City, and it was late, just about midnight. She sauntered across the highway, looked in the shops on the other side where Victoria Road began, and made her way slowly around the crescent.
She found the club Olivia had talked about by the noise and the voices raised in argument. She took a look in the window, didn’t particularly like what she saw, and crossed at the crosswalk. On the other side, she found a used audio equipment store, a couple of stores closed up, and a scruffy-looking restaurant full of equally scruffy young people like the backpackers who hung out at the mission back home.
Next door was more interesting. It was a pool hall full of big chunky guys in leather jackets drinking what looked like beer and playing pool while they filled the place with smoke. There were no girls she could see, which was a disappointment. Nothing but the big guys and the tables. She moved on and sauntered up the hill toward the restaurant on the other side, the one Olivia had mentioned. There was a second storey and a tower on one end, but the upstairs was dark.
Mary had planned this foray carefully. She ducked into a small parking lot across from the restaurant, slid behind a panel van, and took off her jeans and top. That left her in the lacy black bra and panties. Out of her large purse, she pulled a short red mini and a matching blouse. She left the top buttons undone. Next came fishnet thigh-highs and black four-inch heels. She put on a perfume she knew the club girls back home favoured, checked herself in the little mirror she carried, and stepped out.
She wandered slowly up the street, lots of hip sway. She felt her heart rate jump. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her. She smiled. This would be a gas, she thought, and she might just do what she looked like she’d do.
She saw three other girls working the street farther up the hill and went that way. One was a tall blonde showing a lot of leg. She had on tight shorts, knee-high boots, and a white sweater tight enough to highlight her large, high breasts that Mary thought would stop anything on the road. Then there were those great legs that went on forever. She not only had a lot to offer, she knew how to offer it.
Mary smiled at her as she passed, and the girl, all six feet of her, stopped and asked her for a light. She held a cigarette in one hand, the other wrapped around her own large bag.
“You’re new here, aren’t you? Haven’t seen you out before.” She reached over and felt Mary’s blouse along the edge, brushing the smooth skin along the top. Her fingers lingered, sliding back up the edge of the blouse, then down again.
“I like this,” she said and moved closer, her thigh brushing against Mary’s. “Forget the light, I’d rather have you.”
She shoved the cigarette back in the pack. “It’s real slow tonight, not much happenin’. Let’s leave it to those two.” She nodded at the other girls Mary had seen, who were now together at the corner of Prideaux and Victoria.
“Come back to my place. I’ll tell you how to work the street. You can try on some of my stuff. Got a few things’ll fit a little cutey like you, and you can show me what you got. Come on, we can hit this place later, see if it’s any better. I’ll give you first dibs.”
Mary looked up at her, then past her down the street. She reached up and slid her hand down the girl’s neck and across her breasts, stood on her toes, tipped up her face, and waited. The blonde leaned down and kissed her, one hand circling Mary’s waist. They walked up to the lights at Milton together, neither talking, taking pleasure in each other.
“I’m Sally. What do I call you?”
Mary thought for a moment. “Call me Cat.”
“Suits you, with that hair and you being so small. I’m up here a block.”
They walked up the street to a spot that had a bit of grass, some shrubs, and a walkway to another street. At the second house in, Sally fiddled in her bag, pulled out a key, and led her down the side of the house to some stairs leading to the basement.
“Careful here,” she said. “The steps’re steep, especially for heels like ours. Try sideways. Let me go first.”
They got down the stairs without incident and through the door. When Sally turned on the lamp, they stepped into a room with a large bed, a couple of chairs covered in clothes, and a small kitchen and bathroom on the side. All the doors were open, and Mary could see into the bathroom, where there were more clothes and nylons strung around, some on the tub edge, some over the shower door.
She felt Sally come up against her back and reach around her, pulling her close. Mary was so much smaller and delicate that she seemed lost against so much girl. Sally’s hands slid up to her small breasts, teasing her nipples, then down to the short hem of her skirt.
Mary turned to face her and began to unbutton her blouse. Clothes could wait. She wanted this girl to see her, to want her, to use her. There was so much of her. Mary finished removing her clothes and stood naked. Sally murmured something and began to caress her.
◆◆◆
Later in the night, Mary slipped from the big bed, dressed quickly, and let herself out without disturbing the sleeping girl. As she walked down Victoria Road, she thought about how tender Sally had been, as if she were afraid of hurting her, and what she would think about her disappearance. Mary intended to come again the next night, wear the same clothes, and wait for Sally where she’d met her.
She smiled to herself as she walked down the hill.
The night had been so much more than she’d expected, and tomorrow would be better. Sally’d show her how to manage the street, they’d be lov
ers and share a bed, and Mary’d become what she pretended to be—for one night at least. She was very excited about that. Maybe for a few nights she’d be a street girl. Olivia would never know. It would be hers alone, and she shivered at the thought of someone paying her to do what she enjoyed beyond anything else. She’d carry this secret inside her. It would make her superior to her lovers. She’d like that. A lot.
She stripped in the same place she’d dressed. She wasn’t aware of the two men who watched her from the top of the rock wall that formed one end of the lot. They had a tiny nest in the tall grass on the top of the hill, had heard her heels on the pavement, and had crawled to the edge and peered over.
The men watched as she changed, watched her walk away, and listened to her fading footsteps until they disappeared into the sounds of the night.
Mary let herself in to her sister’s place, tiptoed to the bedroom door, and peeked in. Olivia was asleep with one small lamp burning, and Mary knew she’d tried to wait up for her. She made herself a snack in the kitchen, thought about her new name, the pleasures of the night, and the promise of the next. She tiptoed to her bedroom, cleaned up, and went to bed.
In the morning, Olivia asked how the evening had gone and mentioned that she must have been very late. Mary smiled and explained that she’d been to a club downtown, had made some friends there, and had stayed with them for the evening. In fact, she said, she’d made plans to join them that night, so she’d be late again.
“It’s your vacation, girl, you do what you want. Just don’t do anything that’ll make me have to bail you out, okay? You do, and I’ll have to call Mom and Dad, or Auntie in Vancouver. That would be a pain in the ass, right?”
Mary was a bit surprised. Olivia was usually prim and proper, but when she was younger, she’d been a hellion back home, she knew. Mary grinned at her and shook her head in mock seriousness.
Olivia chuckled. “Okay, I gotta go. You want dinner, be here at six, if you don’t, get something yourself. I’ll see you later. You need anything, you call. You good with that?”
Mary nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be out for the day and likely not home for dinner. Don’t wait up.”
◆◆◆
After Olivia left for the law office, Mary cleaned up. She sat in the living room looking out at the harbour, wishing the day would simply disappear so she could return to the stroll and Sally.
I’m gonna shop, find some sexy stuff for tonight, she thought. Maybe later, Sally would show her the stroll and Mary could take a trick or two, see what it was like to get paid. She felt so excited, but it wasn’t even noon.
Mary found the phone book in the kitchen and looked up stores. She found a sex shop on Terminal, but she knew they’d have cheap crap. She found a shop in the old town that seemed possible, and it wasn’t more than a few blocks away. There was also one right downtown she’d seen last night. Then there was a string of them up the highway she could drive to. She loved shopping, but she hated malls with the mommies and kids, the crappy music, and the junk shops.
Mary spent some time in the bathroom getting ready. She left Pacifica through the door on Front Street, walked over past the Anglican church and the Modern Café, and turned up Bastion. From the stoplight, she could see the shops of the old town up the hill a block or so.
Mary found the lingerie shop on the corner of Fitzwilliam and Wesley. She found what she wanted easily, bought two lovely sets of lingerie, one blue, one red, and a couple of tops she liked. She walked the rest of the old town just to see what was there and stopped for lunch in a small café.
Back home, she put on her new lingerie, lacy and deep blue. She added one of the new tops, a short mini, and a pair of knee-high black boots she’d bought in Vancouver. She retouched her makeup and studied herself in the full-length mirror in Olivia’s bedroom. She was pleased with her outfit, and the boots gave the extra inches she wanted.
◆◆◆
Four o’clock found her back downtown. She found Victoria Road and drove slowly up the hill. One girl was out, a plump, dark-haired one in jeans and a low-cut top. She sauntered along the sidewalk, but it was clear she was working.
Mary drove all over the area, watching the streets, seeing what they looked like in daylight. She made sure she passed Sally’s place, figured out how to get to the street on the other side of the walkway, and walked by the white frame clapboard bungalow. She found the walk on the side and stared thoughtfully at the door at the bottom of the basement steps. No, she thought, she’d wait and find Sally on the street later.
Mary spent the next half hour driving around and decided this section of town was a bit of a dump. There were mostly neglected houses, crappy yards, and junk in the driveways. She drove away.
She took the long hill past the bypass highway, drove up around the curve near the university, and slowed as it opened on the top of the high ridge. The view was breathtaking. The whole city lay below her and she could see across the Salish Sea to the coastal mountains, their peaks covered in snow. She could even see the ski runs and Vancouver’s lights just beginning to twinkle down near the water.
Mary sat entranced. This is where she’d live, she thought. She pulled away from the curb and drove along the top of the ridge. The houses, large and mostly new, were interesting, but it was the view that captivated her.
Olivia’s place on the seawall had its own kind of charm, but here was the real thing. Mary found a spot where she could park off the road that gave her a clear view of the city and the water. She stayed and watched the light fade into dusk. She could still see the mountain peaks reflecting the last of the sun’s rays, see the deepening colour of the sea, but it was the lights that held her. She stayed until everything turned dark and only the lights were visible, twinkling in the distance.
IX
Spence parked the unmarked Explorer in the customer lot of Charlie’s dealership, and they went into the showroom. The young, good-looking blonde at the desk saw them coming and rang through. They were met at the office door.
“You two!” Charlie said and turned into the office. “What now?”
He stood behind the large desk in the center of the room and waved them to chairs. The office was big and full of all the bloated man stuff—big desk, big lamps, nothing on the walls but photos starring him, a full leather suite off to the side, a well-stocked bar, and dark wood-panelled walls.
Alan ignored the wave, looked around, and sat on the dark-brown leather chesterfield. Spence followed suit, grabbing one of the matching chairs.
“Why don’t we get comfortable?”
With that, Alan took out his pen and notebook, set them on the heavy coffee table, and turned on a small tape recorder. He identified himself and Spence, stated the time and place, and looked expectantly at Charlie.
The man was angry at losing the advantage the desk gave him. Alan smiled at his discomfort. Finally, Charlie pulled a chair around to face them, crossed his arms over his chest, and stuck out his chin. A touch of belligerence there.
Alan looked at Spence. “We wanted to clear up some things with you, sir, and we appreciate your seeing us in the middle of your day,” she said. “We want to ask you about how the family was doing, what problems there might have been when Kylie left. We know things weren’t as good as they could be, so let’s start there.”
Spence was good with men like Charlie, men who liked women and who saw themselves as forceful and great lovers. In Spence’s view, they were pigs. She knew how to appeal to their vanity, how to make them feel on top, and she used this to her advantage. Alan sat quietly, watching Charlie’s reactions.
“What things? The family’s fine. Kylie leaving? She’s a teenager, for god’s sake!”
Spence persisted. “We have it from several sources that things were difficult at home. There was tension at the dinner table and lots of fighting. Please help us here.”
Spence finally wound things up about an hour later, having gotten little from Charlie.
She didn’
t say anything until they were in the unmarked. Then she exploded. “Jesus, what an arrogant bastard. No wonder the kid left home. That prick’s got a couple of women on the side, a fucked-up home life, and still he’s mister big boss perfect. All the problems are Alicia’s; she fragile, she’s depressed, she’s this, she’s that. And Kylie? She’s a petulant, spoiled teenager who’s got a lot of growin’ up to do. This from a guy who’s emotionally about twelve, and a vindictive, self-centered pig.”
Alan looked at her. She was steaming mad. “Don’t take it out on the car, please,” he said. “Last time, we damn near wrecked some guy in a panel van. Breathe deeply and tell me to shut the hell up.”
Spence let out a breath, took in another, and grinned at him. “I damn near did, didn’t I? Stupid fuck was tryin’ to run a yellow. So okay, I’m calm. You wanna go talk to the private dicks?”
“Have to get ‘em tomorrow.” Alan nodded to the highway, and Spence drove out of the lot. “No overtime, remember? And we’re about twenty from shift end. Let’s dump what we got and head out.”
Spence nodded and took them back downtown. She turned up Albert to Milton and slipped back to the station. They dumped their gear in the locker room and grabbed their rides. Spence drove a souped-up shiny red Camaro she serviced herself. Alan’s was a pedestrian black Hyundai Tucson. He listened to Spence’s deep throaty growl as she passed him and took the car up Fitzwilliam toward the bypass.
NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders Page 11