5 Highball Exit

by Phyllis Smallman

  She nodded her head, looking worried but not shocked. “So that explains how she could afford that apartment.”

  “I don’t think so.” I studied the honey-colored wall I was parked in front of. “The prices were listed. She wouldn’t make enough even as an escort.”

  Aunt Kay asked, “How do you explain the apartment?”

  “I can’t.”

  “And the bruising?”

  “Maybe that was what Holly was willing to do.”

  “Oh.”

  “Has Bella seen the baby?”

  “She didn’t know anything about a baby. It’s an adults-only building and in all the months Holly’s been there, Bella didn’t think Holly even had anyone visit with a baby. She said, ‘Someone with a baby wouldn’t be Holly’s sort of friend,’ then she remembered who she was talking to and snapped her mouth closed pretty quick. It was as if she were holding back all kinds of things an aunt might not want to hear.” Aunt Kay’s voice was filled with regret. “And Bella didn’t know anyone named Denny or Danny and never saw a man in uniform in the building. I didn’t say it was a man in a police uniform I was interested in.”

  “Did you get Bella’s social security number?”

  She turned to me, wide-eyed with surprise, “Why would I want that?”

  I grinned. “I don’t know, but it seems you got everything else.”

  “She did say she let the officer in on Saturday night.”

  “So Dan didn’t have a key.”

  “Or he was too smart to use it. I told Bella that I was a little worried about Holly’s finances; seeing the building and all . . . told her I was concerned Holly might be falling behind in her rent.”

  “What did Bella say to that?”

  “She said most people pay directly from their bank or with postdated checks. The super doesn’t do the collecting now like they did when I lived in an apartment. So I asked if I could just wait in Holly’s apartment until Holly came home.”

  “You were wasted on childcare. You should have been a cop.”

  “They’re much the same thing some days. Bella told me Hollywas away.”

  “If the baby has never been here, I don’t suppose there’s much to be gained by going into her apartment. Dan looked around and he didn’t find anything.”

  “But he wasn’t looking for signs of Angel. I thought I might find an address or a name, anything to tell us where the baby might be.” Her hand curled into fists. “Where is Angel now and is she safe? That’s what I keep asking myself.”

  “What are you going to do if we find the baby?”

  She shrugged. “I just want to know that she is fine and then I’ll let it go. I owe Holly that much.”

  But would she? Did Aunt Kay have some secret wish to have Angel for her own? Surely Aunt Kay was too old and too wise to daydream along those lines for long.

  “What if the baby isn’t fine?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She looked away. “You don’t think Holly would sell her child, do you Sherri?”

  “Lord . . . where did that come from?”

  “Holly was impractical and easily led.” She turned back to me. “I believe she might convince herself that it was for the best and she was doing the right thing, even the best thing for Angel.”

  “But still . . .”

  “This place says wealth,” Aunt Kay said. “What else did she have to sell besides herself and her baby?”

  “Evil never surprises you, does it?”

  “It’s just like any other human trait, like jealousy or hate or love.” Aunt Kay waved a hand to the exit. “Let’s see where Holly lived before she came here.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “What? Is it past my bedtime?”

  “Okay, I was only asking.” I backed out.

  She pulled down the seat belt. “We need to find someone Holly talked to; she wouldn’t be able to keep all of this to herself.”

  “It’s probably a waste of time.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ve paid for a week of your time and paid well.”

  I held my tongue and tipped up the water bottle while I waited for traffic to clear.

  Aunt Kay said, “We need to go to that escort agency.” I spewed water all over the windshield.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Escort services are really . . .” I searched for nice words. “Well, pretty much prostitution.”

  “Yes, I figured that out.” Aunt Kay wiped her face and upper chest with a fresh tissue. “What’s the name of this escort service?”

  “Angel Escort Agency.”

  “Angel . . . You don’t suppose . . . ?”

  “That occurred to me.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem possible but let’s just go see them and find out what we can about Holly.”

  “There wasn’t an address, just a telephone number.”

  She thought it over. “I guess they don’t take walk-in customers. Just send girls out.”

  “There’s no way to find them without an address.”

  Aunt Kay solved that problem in no time at all. “Call them and say you’re looking for a job. They’ll want to see you before they hire you. They’ll need to tell you what to do and everything.”

  “You want me to pretend to be a prostitute?”

  “No, no, just . . . well . . . I don’t know. Just pretend to be interested. I’m going with you so it will be safe.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel loads better. And arriving at an interview for a job as a hooker, with my auntie by my side to protect me, will be a first for them. It’ll have them rolling on the floor with laughter.”

  Switching gears, I said,“Let’s tell the cops Holly had a baby. Where’s that card the cop gave you? Let’s call him now.”

  “Do you think they’ll be interested in what happened to the baby if no crime has been committed? I tried yesterday to tell them about Angel. They’re only making sure it was a suicide. After that they had no further interest in Holly.”

  “But pretending . . .”

  “Please, Sherri.”

  “How many ways can this go wrong?”

  “If you weren’t going to go see them, why did you look them up on the Internet?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “Pffft.” It was a sound of absolute disbelief.

  “Look, Aunt Kay, there’s no doubt about what Holly was doing. The prices were there, by the hour or for all night. These aren’t nice places.”

  “I’ll try not to die from shock on you. It’s the only way we can find out about that side of Holly’s life.”

  She held out her hand. “Where’s the number? I’ll make the call if you can’t.”

  “How do you know I have the number?”

  “You looked it up, didn’t you? Were you going there by yourself?”

  “No way. I was going to give it to Dan.”

  “He already knew about the agency, had the number off of Holly’s phone. You used to lie better.”

  After a minute she said, “Do you think he’ll go check it out?”

  “Nope.”

  “So, you were going there alone.” She reached over and patted my arm. “Make the call and stop trying to protect me.”

  “Whoopee, I wanted to pick up some extra money. I just didn’t know it was going to be as an escort.” I retrieved the crumpled paper from my jeans pocket.

  When the guy on the phone asked how old I was, I lied. “Twenty-four.”

  He agreed to see me and gave me an address in a strip mall off Bee Ridge Road on the east side of Sarasota.

  When we got there, I tried to back out.

  Aunt Kay said, “Oh, stop being such a baby. What can possibly g
o wrong?”

  Right then and there I should have pushed her out onto the pavement and driven away . . . fast.

  CHAPTER 16

  The escort agency was in a small brick building over a pizza store. The guy on the phone said to take the side entrance to the second floor, go down the hall past the modeling agency and photography studio to the end of the corridor and knock on the door of 204.

  I tried to talk Aunt Kay into waiting in the truck but she kept insisting she was going with me.

  At the door the stenciled name of the photo studio jogged my memory. “The last time I saw Holly was at Sarasota Mall last January. She was on the way to have pictures taken.”

  Aunt Kay’s mouth turned down in a disapproving frown. “Photos cost her a small fortune over the years.”

  “She said something about a good omen.”

  “Holly was always talking some nonsense about omens and signs.”

  Inside the door Aunt Kay stopped dead and looked at the steep flight of stairs. “Oh,” she said.

  “I may want to get out of there in a hurry if things go wrong,” I said. “It’s better if you stay here. There’s a bench in front of the pizza place.”

  She turned her sad and bewildered face to me. “But I don’t want you to go alone.”

  I dug out my phone and opened it. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes you can call the cops, okay?”

  She nodded, happier now that she was protecting me, but I wasn’t at all certain she knew how to use a cell phone.

  There was no name on the solid wood door. When no one answered my knock, I tried the door. It was locked.

  A wave of relief washed over me. I was turning away and already planning my excuses to Aunt Kay when I heard the click of the catch. The door opened a crack. I could see it was still on a chain. I looked into the void of the open door and then I lowered my gaze.

  The man I was looking down on read my surprise and gave me a look that I was guessing meant, “Eat shit and die, bitch.” What he said was, “What do you want?”

  “I’m Sherri. I just called you,” I said in case he forgot.

  “Yeah, I remember,” he replied. “I also remember you said you were twenty-four.”

  “Yeah, well, I was once.”

  He closed the door and took off the chain and I stepped inside, into a room that reeked of pine air freshener.

  I watched the guy walk back to his desk. He was about eight inches shorter than me, making him about four foot eleven in his snakeskin cowboy boots, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in attitude.

  “My name is Cal Vachess and I run the Angel Escort Agency.” He was ruggedly handsome but his hands and his head looked oversized for his height. My mind, always ready to take a roll in the muck, wondered what other parts of him were normal size.

  Something in my face must have betrayed my thoughts, perhaps I smiled, or perhaps he was just real good at knowing what people were thinking, but the look he gave me set my knees to wobbling. Then he flexed his shoulders, making his jacket bulge open to reveal a handgun in a leather shoulder holster.

  Pity the jerk that treated Cal Vachess as a small amusement. My smirk was definitely gone even before he lifted the edge of his white linen jacket to show off the pistol a little better, just in case I’d missed it the first time. I was betting he let everyone know he was carrying so his size would no longer matter, a gun being a great equalizer. Everything about this guy said he was ready to back up the talk with the walk.

  I looked away.

  Circus prints covered the walls behind the oak desk. Southwest Florida was the winter home for the circus and the Ringlings built their estate on Sarasota Bay, making Sarasota a big circus town. You can find memorabilia all over the place.

  The wall next to me was hung with black-and-white autographed photos of circus stars, from the high-wire to animal acts. I figured the tiny clowns, peeking out of a miniature fire truck, were more family history than souvenirs.

  “So you’re looking for a job,” he said.

  The desk held a notebook computer and two cell phones. That was it. No copier. No printer. It was a stripped-down paperless office, one that could be run out of a vehicle or shut down in a heartbeat.

  I shook my head. “I want to ask you about a girl who worked for you.”

  “I’m not in the business of doing favors.”

  “I’ll pay for information.”

  He jerked a thumb at a wooden chair. “Tell me what you want to know and I’ll tell you how much it’s going to cost you.”

  He sat in a high-back leather chair that made him look like a kid playing Daddy. He grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled himself up to it. “So, who are you interested in?”

  “Her name was Holly Mitchell. She died Saturday night.”

  “The cops have already been here.” He pointed to the door. “I got nothing for you so take off.” He picked up a cell, flicked it open and thumbed the screen.

  “The police think it was suicide. Why did they come here?”

  “Ask them.”

  “I thought you were in the business of selling information.”

  “I don’t have anything more for you. I have calls to make.” His eyes went back to the screen.

  “Holly was important to her family. I just need to know why she took her life. Her aunt needs to understand; she had to identify her as next of kin.”

  “Whatever happened to her had nothing to do with me. She hadn’t even started working for me.”

  “You mean she worked somewhere else, a different agency?”

  “No, I mean she had a full-time gig.”

  “Do you know who it was with . . . this full-time thing?”

  “I’m not interested in past history. She was just one more bimbo. They come and they go. I don’t have time to talk to them.” He motioned to the door with the cell phone and said, “And I don’t have time for you either.” He was already accessing a number on his cell.

  I stood up and took two steps towards the door. “Did Holly tell you she had a baby?”

  His head jerked around to face me. “What?”

  “A baby. Her name is Angel.” His eyes changed. “No shit?”

  “Holly never told you?”

  “Never.”

  “Strange, she told people everything. Not good at secrets, our Holly. She always confided in people, even the wrong ones.”

  His jaw hardened. “Well, she didn’t confide in me. I hardly knew her, so if that’s all you got, goodbye. I got work to do.”

  I was opening the door when he said, “Too bad you didn’t come through that door ten years ago. I could have used you. You’re too old now.”

  I looked over my shoulder at him and laughed.

  An answering smile lit his face. “Tell you what, we still get a few old guys who aren’t as particular.” He flicked a card across his desk in my direction. “If you want to pick up a little cash give me a call.”

  “Do they bring their own nurses? I don’t do potty duty.” And now he laughed. “See you around.”

  I sincerely hoped not but before I could feel relieved that it was over, the overpowering smell of expensive cologne filled my nose and a large man blocked the door.

  His face was so much like Cal Vachess’s they could have been twins, but this guy towered over me.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Hello there,” he said with exaggerated warmth and slid forward until his face was way too close to mine.

  I edged away but he moved closer, filling the void I’d created between us. My shoulder was up against the door jamb. I was trapped. Even if his nearness hadn’t made me uncomfortable, his breath would have driven me back. I tilted my head away from the overwhelming scent of decay.

  Perfec
tly tanned and looking like a male model, he was wearing a pink polo shirt, crisp khaki shorts and boat shoes with no socks. In his left ear was a diamond stud to match the diamond ring on his right hand, which he had planted on the door frame by my left ear.

  “Hey, I know you, don’t I?” he said. I kept my face turned, my head tilted to the floor. “Nope.”

  “Sure I do.”

  Behind us Cal said, “She’s just on her way out, Ryan.” And then he added, “Goodbye.”

  “Ignore my brother.” Ryan took my face in his hand and turned my head back to face him. I tried to turn away but his strong fingers held me fixed there. The intensity of Ryan’s stare was unbearable, assessing me like he would a new purchase.

  “If I don’t know you, I’m certainly going to.” He pressed his body up against mine.

  “She’s just leaving,” Cal said.

  Ryan ignored Cal and studied me, his forehead creasing, before he asked, “Really, come on now, aren’t you someone I know?”

  This guy was as high as a kite. Now call me a prude, but it was like the middle of a Monday morning. Even I knew Monday mornings are all about sobriety.

  “Who do you know?” I asked.

  “I know everyone,” he said, exhaling a foul smell into my face. “Everyone.” He wasn’t high on alcohol.

  “Then you’re right. If you know everyone, you know me.” He grinned with delight. “I knew it.”

  “But I don’t know you,” I said.

  He stuck his hand in between our shoulders for a shake. “Ryan Vachess. How can I . . .” He paused before adding, “ . . . be of service?” And he meant the word service.

  “Goodbye,” Cal said loudly, shoving me out the door with his right hand as he pulled Ryan inside with his left.

  Without ever looking at Cal, Ryan pushed him backwards, sending his brother crashing into the wall. Then Ryan reached out and recaptured my face in his hand, pulling me towards him by my jaw while moving my face from side to side, his eyes fixed on me, focused and intent.

  I fought the urge to slap his hand away.