by Ang Pompano
“Tanner?”
The guy glanced over. “Who’s asking?”
“Al DeSantis, I’m a detective. We need to talk. I have some questions for you.”
He seemed to have a hard time understanding with all of the noise.
“What?”
“I want to talk to you about Keller,” I said.
He seemed to catch the word Keller if I read his expression right. At that moment, the winged woman grabbed my hand and pulled me away.
Tanner stopped dancing with the girl with the scarf. Then he burst through the dance circle and made his way through the fringes of the crowd. I broke from the circle, too. The last I saw, the lady with the wings had grabbed Max’s hand and brought her into the center of the dance as Max’s friend with the teeth clapped his encouragement.
I tried to follow Tanner through the crowd. Someone yelled at me when I got in the way of a picture they were taking. Then a girl swinging a lighted hulahoop on each arm hit me with one of the spinning rings. I made my way around her and pushed through the crowd. I could see Tanner far ahead running up the ramp to the pavilion.
“Hey!” I called out.
He had a good lead on me and I lost sight of him in the crowded pavilion where vendors were set up selling everything from food to souvenirs.
I ran out to the parking lot which was still in massive gridlock, now from cars leaving the drum circle early to “avoid” the rush. One by one, they made their way toward the single exit that funneled them out to the street. I spotted the pedicab with the flags which once again jumped onto the grass to cut the line.
He bolted out onto Beach Street. I heard horns beeping and tires screeching. The pedicab made a violent lurch when a car clipped its back end but remained upright. Tanner maintained control and headed in the direction of the village.
“Hold up!” I yelled as I ran on the path that paralleled the street. I weaved around people hauling coolers, umbrellas and surfboards, until the path ended at a crosswalk.
A lady with a walker had already pressed the button and was half way across. In spite of the flashing lights on the poles and blinkers in the road lining the crosswalk, a car barreled up the street. I could tell it had no intention of stopping. I put my hand on the lady’s walker to hold her back.
“Jerk!” I yelled at the car. It sped up the street toward town and honked at the bike cab and cut around it. By this time, the cab with its two flags bobbing behind it was too far away for me to catch. I learned something that day: in spite of being in pretty good shape for age thirty-five, I can’t run as fast as I used to.
I jogged about a mile until I got to the village where I checked every restaurant and side street for the bike cab.
*****
Ava Island Village in the evening is as glamorous as South Beach, as outlandish as Key West, and as packed as Daytona, yet all contained in a three-quarter mile strip of souvenir shops, dive bars, exclusive clubs, and restaurants of every caliber. I checked every place I could think of but couldn’t find a trace of Tanner or the cab.
I found a white Ava Island Police car with a bold green stripe and a big yellow five-pointed star on the door parked in front of the hardware store. When I walked up to it, the cop behind the wheel rolled down the window.
“Did you happen to see a bike cab flying an American flag and a German flag behind it?”
“Is there a problem?” the deputy asked.
“Only a minor one. My girl thinks she may have left her phone in the cab earlier in the day. I’m trying to help her find it.”
“Gotcha,” he said. “It’s kind of late. Most of the cabbies are off of the street. Try tomorrow.”
I pressed on.
“I thought you might know him since this is his route, from here to the beach. I noticed that he had an awesome bullet hole tattoo on his leg.”
The cop gagged a chuckle.
“Tanner. I didn’t see him. But good luck getting the phone back.”
“It’s worth a try,” I said.
I ducked into a bar blaring country music where the singer was lamenting losing his girl and then getting drunk. I approached the barkeep.
“I’m looking for a tall guy with one blue eye. Do you know him?”
“No. Shouldn’t be hard to find though.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. How many people are walking around with a patch over their eye?”
“I didn’t say he had one eye. I said he had one blue eye. The other one is brown.”
“Well, he’d be harder to spot then, wouldn’t he?”
I moved on to the club next door. The woman behind the bar was decked out in hot pants and a well filled out tank top. “What can I get you?” She asked with a husky voice.
A large woman in a skintight red dress sashayed by the pool table in the middle of the room as she belted out a song about it raining men. People were passing her money that she stuffed into her bra which was already overflowing.
I spoke loudly to the bartender so I could be heard. “I need some information. Have you seen a tall guy with one blue eye? The other one is brown. He has a bullet hole tat on his leg.”
“Gee, could you be a little more specific? That could describe about anyone.”
I couldn’t be more specific if I gave her Tanner’s DNA map.
“I take that as a no.”
“Lighten up. I’m pulling your chain. You’re looking for Tanner.”
“That’s right. Where can I find him?”
The woman by the pool table with the bra full of money finished her song and the music changed. The bartender I was talking to picked up a wireless microphone. “Excuse me. It’s my turn. Got a request?”
I shrugged. “Surprise me.” I put a fiver on the bar. She looked at it skeptically and tucked it into her pants. Then she hopped up on the bar and started belting out a song.
The big lady chimed in from the other side of the room like it was some kind of battle of the microphones.
“Aren’t they wonderful?” The woman on the stool next to me must have been pushing sixty. The guy she was with seemed to be her husband, who looked totally confused and more than a bit uncomfortable. She leaned in toward me and shouted so I could hear her. “You would never know. Would you?”
“Never know what?” I asked.
“That they aren’t women. You knew that, right?”
No shit? “I did. I certainly did,” I said.
The song ended and the bartender hopped down. She put the microphone behind the cash register before coming over to me.
“So, what’s Tanner done?”
“I need to talk him. That’s all.”
She scratched her cheek with two long multicolored fingernails as if she were considering if I could be trusted or not.
“You’re a cop?”
“Nope. PI. I couldn’t arrest him if I wanted to. I want to talk to him. Do you know him or not?” This time I threw a twenty on the bar.
“You insult me,” she said as she slid the bill into her pocket. “I know him. He does odd jobs around here sometimes.”
“How do I find him?”
“I don’t know. The maintenance company hires him once in a while. Do you fish?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?’
She pointed to a poster on the wall. “There’s a fishing tournament at the pier the day after tomorrow. I hear he entered. If you go down early—I’m talking ungodly early—you’ll find him.”
I put another ten on the bar. “Nice song,” I said.
It was late, I was tired, and Max and I still hadn’t eaten. I decided to forget Tanner for tonight. I headed to Max’s place almost tasting the chicken I had made for dinner but didn’t get a chance to eat.
35
WHEN IWENT INTO my pocket to check my p
hone for the time, it wasn’t there. I remembered that I had given it to Max so she could take her friend’s call. At least I had an excuse for not letting her know where I disappeared to. Most likely, her toothy friend with the muscles had given her a ride home.
It didn’t seem to be that late, but I decided to call it a day. With my stomach growling, I headed back to Max’s place. I couldn’t wait to share with her over dinner how I almost caught up with Tanner and about my lead that he might be at the pier for the tournament. Things were finally falling into place.
To celebrate, I decided to duck into the Creamery to bring her a quart of homemade ice cream. That on top of the dinner I made for her should score me some extra points.
The line in the Creamery was a little longer than I had expected, but Max would understand. I never knew a woman as patient as she was. What a contrast to Kim who always complained that I was late, inconsiderate, self-centered, and on and on. When I finally got up to the counter to place my order, I noticed the clock hanging by the menu board. It couldn’t be 10:45 already. I hoped that after the drum circle Max went straight home and took the chicken out of the oven or it would be burned to a crisp.
“A quart of chunky chocolate. Could you kinda step on it?”
The guy must have been the Ice Cream Despot because he took all his blessed time. Then half way through filling the quart, took another order before finishing mine.
With the ice cream in a bag, I hoofed it down Canal Street toward Max’s place. As I got away from the village center, the road lighted only from the homes that ran along one side of the street gave me a sense of peace, the quiet punctuated by the sound of an occasional fish jumping in the canal on the other.
The few cars that went by put on their high beams and gave me a wide berth. I passed Hicks’ duplex house where my father had found the hotel key.
I wish I had asked Hicks what mementos he had left behind for Estelle. I was thinking that I had to ask her about it, when headlights from behind made me turn around. The car was big and barely creeping down the street. I thought of the old Pontiac I had seen around town, but in the dark, I couldn’t tell if was the same vehicle. Probably someone looking for a house number.
I reached for my phone to call Estelle while it was on my mind. I patted my pockets then I remembered once again that I didn’t have my lifeline. The car passed me. I watched as the car turned in a driveway, and headed back. If they were going to ask me for directions, I wouldn’t be much help. I didn’t know anyone around there.
When the car picked up speed I thought, good, they’re not going to stop. Then it seemed to be going way faster than it should on that street. The lights blinded me. I thought I was going to get hit. I dropped the bag with the ice cream and dove to the shoulder. I went down, tumbling in the grass. I tried to stop but couldn’t and I landed in the canal.
“Asshole!” I yelled, but there was no one to hear me but the jumping fish.
I climbed out wet and muddy. I picked up the bag with the ice cream and pressed on down the road looking over my shoulder every few seconds. I kept telling myself it was just a drunken tourist, or someone texting while they drove. I wasn’t doing a good job of convincing myself.
*****
When I knocked at the door, Max answered it dressed in a robe. She didn’t say not to, so I walked into her kitchen.
“The chicken was good,” she said. I caught a tone in her voice that reminded me of my ex.
I felt something sticky under my shoes. The melted ice cream leaking through the bag had puddled at my feet.
“I got you some ice cream,” I said, “but it...” I looked at the mess and threw the bag into the sink. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you had a good reason to abandon me,” she said.
“I spotted Tanner and tried to follow him. You weren’t exactly abandoned. You had your friend there.”
“His name is Jeff. I introduced you.”
“I couldn’t hear at the time. Did he take you home?”
“I didn’t feel like walking alone. He enjoyed your balsamic chicken. I saved you some.” She started to walk out of the kitchen. “Good night. I’m going back to bed.”
It was kind of early to be sleeping but I was in no position to question. She went down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door. Something told me that her idea of doing what “felt right” and mine were not going to be the same that night.
I grabbed a piece of chicken and headed home. Half way across her lawn, I remembered that she still had my phone. I went back in and called to her from the kitchen.
“I’m back. I forgot to get my phone.” Silence. “Max?”
“What is it?” I heard from her bedroom.
“I need my phone.”
“It’s in my beach bag. I left it in the hall bathroom.”
I found the beach bag hanging on the knob of the linen closet door. I rummaged through it but couldn’t find the phone, so I dumped the tote on the vanity. Found it. I started stuffing things back into the bag. As I picked them up, I noticed that along with Max’s hair products there was men’s deodorant, men’s shampoo, and shaving cream on the vanity. Jeff’s? I was pretty sure he didn’t live there. A frequent visitor? Apparently, I didn’t know Max as well as I thought I did. I was going to confront her but I knew I had no right to. I was about to leave when Max came out of the bedroom in a short white robe.
“Are you still here?” she asked.
Was Jeff in there? I wasn’t about to ask.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
36
AS TIRED AS I WAS, I couldn’t go to bed after that. I went home and worked on case files at the coffee table until I eventually drifted off in the early hours.
I woke up hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since the piece of chicken I had grabbed before I bolted from Max’s place the night before. I’m not the most pleasant guy when I wake up. I’m even less pleasant when I’m hungry. Combine those two with the lingering effects of being pissed off that I messed up my chances with Max, and this had the makings of a lousy day even if the early morning sun over Ava Island promised otherwise.
If I was going to change the course of the day for the better, I needed food and fast. I drove down to the Double Yoke, a greasy spoon without the grease, and had a double stack of blueberry pancakes topped with a fried egg.
I spotted an older guy down by the end of the counter who reminded me of Big Al, but looked a little more down and out. I caught him eyeing my meal.
I was just about finished when he asked the waitress for the check. When she walked by me I signaled to her to stop.
“How much is it?” I asked.
“I’ll get your check in a minute,” she said.
“I mean his.”
She looked at the old guys check. “Two-fifty. He only had an English.”
“Put it on my bill and then get him what I had. Tell him he won a free breakfast for being the millionth customer or something.”
I paid her and left.
The old guy in the restaurant reminded me that I probably should see my father at some point. If I could catch him in a lucid moment I might be able to learn something to help clear him.
With all of the work that Big Al left unfinished that I had to wrap up, I knew I wouldn’t have time to visit my father later in the day. Instead, I headed to The Palms at 7:45.
As I had predicted, it was another beautiful morning in Savannah but still cool enough for me to drive with the windows open. Finally feeling better now that I had a full belly, I had high hopes that I would have a productive day ahead of me.
For a change, I practically had my choice of spaces in the parking lot. Obviously, most people don’t visit early in the morning unless the patient is in bad shape. I sat for a minute wondering if Big Al was awake. If he wasn’t... duty served and I’d have a clear conscience.
I just hoped that he wouldn’t insist on tagging along with me for the day.
Thinking I might as well get it over with, I straggled from the truck. As I walked around a medi-transport parked by the entrance, I caught a glimpse of a woman going around the other side of the vehicle toward the parking lot. In my mind, I developed a scenario in which she had been summoned in at this early hour to deal with a husband in crisis. Could the transport be for him? That’s the problem with my line of work. You always look for the negative.
As I got to the door, I noticed I had left my cell phone on my console and turned around. When I approached my truck, I recognized the woman I had passed at the van.
“Estelle?”
At first, she didn’t seem to recognize me. Her face turned red when she realized who I was.
“Mr. DeSantis. You surprised me.”
“Do you know someone here?”
She dug through her pocketbook and found a pair of sunglasses which she plopped on her face before she answered.
“Uh, why yes. An old friend. This is one of the better facilities, but it’s still a horrible place.” She sighed. “When the time comes for me, just shoot me.”
At that moment, I felt sorry for her. She must have been sharing her biggest fear. I tried to make light of her remark.
“No can do. I’d go to jail. Besides, you’re way too young to worry about that.”
“Well, aren’t you the silver-tongued devil,” she said as she got into her car.
I put my hand on the door so she couldn’t close it. “Would you mind telling me what mementos Hicks left for you at the empty apartment?”
Estelle frowned. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I want you to drop the case.”
I don’t think Estelle grasped that now it wasn’t just about finding out what happened to her daughter, Jill. I had to clear my father before Johnson decided he had enough evidence to press charges against him.