“By the way,” Aaron said as he scooped up another healthy bite of guacamole. “I checked and no Jane Does fitting Dowling’s description have shown up dead or at County Hospital in the past few weeks.” He popped the chip into his mouth and groaned with satisfaction. “Best guac in the city,” he said after chewing and swallowing, “but don’t tell my wife I said that. At home I claim hers is the best. It’s close, but not as good as this.” He reached for another chip.
“What about the kid?” Jeremiah asked after taking a swig from his beer. Both of them had abandoned the delivered glasses and drank straight from the bottle. “I heard she has a daughter somewhere.”
Aaron shook his head. “Had a daughter. Name of Cheryl.”
“Had? Was the kid taken away from her?”
“No, but should have been.” Again Aaron shook his head. “The kid died at around two years old. Pneumonia and overall neglect. The kid died while left with a crackhead babysitter while Mom was out turning tricks.”
The news took Jeremiah back and stopped the chip he was about to eat midair. Remembering it, he popped it into his mouth and chewed while he considered this new information. “Now that’s interesting because Mary has been telling people that her daughter was coming to take her off the streets. She was going to live with her in a big fancy house. I spoke to one girl just today who claims she met the daughter briefly.”
“Maybe she had another that we don’t know about. She could have popped it out and gave it up for adoption, especially an illegal adoption.”
“The girl who met her thought her name was Cheryl and made no mention of there being another kid.” Jeremiah took another drink of beer. “She said Mary only talked about a Cheryl.”
Aaron pointed at the papers in front of Jeremiah. “No mention of any other kid there, just the one who died.”
Jeremiah shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it across the seat of the empty chair next to him. “Are you sure the kid died?”
“Yep. Mary Dowling was charged with child endangerment and involuntary manslaughter. She was convicted of child endangerment only, got off with two years’ probation because of her age, and sentenced to mandatory rehab. Which, apparently, didn’t stick.”
“It usually doesn’t in these types of cases,” Jeremiah said sadly.
Carlos delivered their food and the two men were silent while they filled the fresh warm tortillas with perfectly grilled fish and vegetables and took their first bites.
“You know, Jeremiah,” Aaron said after swallowing his second bite, “if this Mary is pretty far gone, she could have forgotten that her kid died and really thinks whoever is visiting her is Cheryl all grown up.”
Jeremiah wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. But why would someone track down a used-up junkie and pose as her long-dead kid? And who would do it? What is the motive?”
“Beats me. Maybe Mary was mixed up in something and became a liability so they killed her? But what use is an old pro on drugs? Find that out and you might find the killer, providing this Mary is dead.”
“I was told even her pimp kicked her to the curb recently. She had worked for Ace, a pimp running girls out of the Hi-Life Diner. Know him?”
Aaron nodded. “I know of him. He’s a slippery SOB. Everyone knows that diner is his base of operation, but there’s never been proof enough to shut him and it down.”
“He owns a warehouse over on Stanford Avenue by the Salvation Army,” Jeremiah told him. “He houses his girls in apartments above it. That might be his real base of operation. I was told he kicked Mary out of her digs there, too.”
“I’ll run that info by Vice and see what they say. I’ve already put out a call to a buddy in that department to see what they know about Mary Dowling.”
“Thanks, Aaron, I really appreciate it.”
“What’s Red’s interest in this? Mary wasn’t a vet.”
“True, but he thinks she’s been bothering one of his clients, an old demented guy named Bucket.”
Aaron was about to shovel some rice into his mouth and stopped. “I know Bucket. He’s the old guy with the scrawny dog usually on San Pedro, right?” He shoved the rice into his mouth.
“Yep. Both Bucket and his dog are on their last legs and lately Bucket has been ranting about Mary being dead. Red is hoping I can find Mary and prove to Bucket that she’s okay so he’ll calm down before he gets hurt.”
Aaron swallowed the food in his mouth and pointed his fork at Jeremiah. “But you think she’s dead, don’t you?”
“I do.” Jeremiah poured some beer down his throat. “Whether or not she was working for Ace any longer, she was a known fixture downtown, but people haven’t seen her since just after Thanksgiving. She was telling everyone she was going to live with her daughter, but we both know that’s impossible.”
“Any description of this bogus daughter?”
“Girl I talked to a few hours ago said she was average height and build with brown hair about chin length. Wore sunglasses, even at night.”
Aaron snorted. “That could be anyone. Could be a wig, too.”
“Now that I know about the daughter being dead, I’m sure Mary had to either be mixed up in something or saw something.” Jeremiah bounced more ideas off Aaron. “But if she saw something, she would have been put down sooner than later. According to Red and this girl, Mary had been crowing about her daughter for a few weeks. I’m betting Mary was being used for something.”
“Maybe a drug mule of some kind?” Aaron suggested. “Could be she was delivering the drugs to customers downtown. Those people have to get it from somewhere.”
“But would you trust your product to a junkie with a fried brain?”
“Not really,” he admitted, “but drug dealers are pretty creative. They might even have been using her without her knowledge. Maybe this so-called daughter was really a drug dealer trying to get Mary to do her a favor and using the promise of getting her out of there as the carrot for cooperation.”
Jeremiah had to admit that was a very plausible theory. “I’ll have to find Mary, dead or alive, and that fake daughter.”
They were almost done with their meal when Granny popped up next to the table jumping up and down with excitement. “I found her!”
Jeremiah whipped his head around to her, then remembered Aaron was with him. The detective swung his head in the same direction, but saw nothing. “What’s up?” he asked Jeremiah. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughed and finished his beer.
Jeremiah chuckled. “No, nothing that bizarre. Just thought I saw someone I know walk by.”
“Bizarre?” Granny asked, hands on hips. “I’m bizarre?”
Jeremiah ignored her even though he wanted to hear what she had to say. He finished his last bite and pushed his plate aside.
“Do you want to hear this or not?” asked the impatient spirit.
Without saying anything, Jeremiah gave her a single nod while staying fixed on what Aaron was saying about getting back in touch if he found out anything.
“Like I said,” Granny continued, “I think I found Mary. At least I found a body.”
Jeremiah nearly levitated out of his seat with both excitement and frustration, torn between wanting to hear what Granny was reporting, and listening to other theories by Aaron so not to rouse his friend’s curiosity.
“She’s in that building behind Bucket’s spot,” Granny told him. “I went back there and tried again. It took me a bit to get my bearings, but I was finally able to get a fix on the inside. There are about three different businesses behind those boards. There are a couple of small stores, mostly empty except for shelves and rats, and one of them washer places. I think you call them a laundromat.”
Carlos came over and asked if he could get them anything else. They both declined and asked for the check.
“Hey,” said Granny, finally looking around, “I know this place, and isn’t that Carlos the waiter?”
Jeremiah shot a quick look at Granny, hoping to convey to her to wait until they were alone. She misread it and thought he wanted her to continue.
“Anyway, I think it’s called a laundromat. It’s one of those places where there are lots of really big washers and dryers lined up against the walls. I’ve only ever been to one once. Archie got sick on Emma’s quilt in Julian and she took it there to wash it because her washer wasn’t big enough. Anyway, there was nothing there either that I could see but old broken machines and a bunch of blankets in a corner. I think someone’s been living there.”
Jeremiah thought he was going to go insane trying to focus on Granny and Aaron at the same time. His brain ping-ponged between the two, trying to absorb the information being thrown at him, until he thought he might tell them both to shut up until he could straighten it all in his head. It was times like this, he could feel his age. Now and when he rode too many hours on his motorcycle.
Granny continued, paying no mind to Jeremiah’s growing frustration or looks her way conveying for her to wait. “I’ve smelled death before and I’d bet anything a dead body is in that place somewhere. I can’t be sure it’s Mary, but it is near Bucket. I looked around but couldn’t find the stiff, but it’s there and I’m not talking a few dead rats either.”
“I need to shove off,” Jeremiah told Aaron. When Carlos presented their check, he pulled out his wallet and paid the entire bill. Aaron protested. “Nah,” Jeremiah told him, “I’ve got this. Payment for your help.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said. “I’ll keep asking around about Mary Dowling. You never know what could pop up.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Granny quipped, looking at the detective as if he could hear her.
Chapter 8
When Jeremiah went to the gated public parking lot to retrieve his motorcycle, he didn’t take off immediately. Instead, he sat astride it and thought about his next move. He’d been tempted to tell Aaron about the body Granny found, but wasn’t sure what to say about how he knew it was there. And Granny only said she’d smelled the body, not that she saw one. In those old closed buildings downtown, there could be any number of things dead inside. He wanted to check it out himself before telling Aaron. If he could get inside the old laundromat and found a corpse, then he could tell the police he found it while looking for Mary Dowling, even if it wasn’t her. The only thing he might get tagged for would be trespassing. He could live with that. After all, the owner of the building would have a lot more worries on his plate than an old PI sneaking onto his property.
On the walk to the parking lot, he’d asked Granny to return to Bucket and see if she could find and communicate with Mary’s ghost, saying he’d be down there shortly. He ran a hand over his head, stopping to give it a thoughtful scratch. This single day was beginning to feel like a long, hot desert road, and it was only half over.
He was about to slip on his helmet and head back downtown when his cell phone rang. It was Emma Whitecastle. “Hi, Emma,” he said, answering it. “Thanks for getting back to me.”
“What’s up, Jeremiah?” She sounded upbeat and light and he wondered how much champagne she’d had at brunch.
“Tell me this,” he said, “how good is Granny’s sense of smell?”
“Her sense of smell?” Emma asked with a musical giggle.
“Yeah. Can she still smell things, you know, food, stuff like that? I’m not sure which of the senses remain after death besides sight and hearing.”
“Odd question, but as far as I know, she can smell and quite well, especially food.” Emma laughed. “It frustrates her because she cannot eat anything, so she cannot taste what she smells. The aroma of hot pizza especially drive her nuts.”
“So out of the five senses, she can hear and see and smell, but not touch or taste? Correct?”
“Yes, that’s about right, although I don’t think her sense of smell is as strong as ours,” Emma noted. “I don’t know about all spirits, but that seems to be the case with Granny. Why?”
“I think Granny found a body today.” There was a long silence on the other end and Jeremiah wondered if he’d lost the call. “Emma, you there?”
“Ah, yes, I am. Hang on.” Jeremiah could hear Emma saying something to someone with her. It was probably Phil Bowers.
Phil’s voice came through the phone. “Hey, Jeremiah, Phil here. Emma just put you on speaker. What’s this about a body?”
Jeremiah quickly filled them in on his favor for Red Watkins, the background Aaron gave him on Mary Dowling, and how Granny thought she’d found a dead body. “I’m going down now to check out what she found.”
“Do you need us to come down there?” Emma offered. “It’s a quick drive from Pasadena to downtown, especially on a Sunday.”
“I’m not sure,” Jeremiah answered honestly. “I don’t want you two involved with the body if there is one. The fewer people on that the best. I might be able to use you in communicating with Mary’s ghost if Granny or I can’t. We do know she’s dead. We’ve seen her spirit. But we’re not sure if the body Granny thinks she found is hers. Granny’s there now trying to get Mary to show and talk.”
“Say the word and we’re there,” Phil said.
“Thanks, but let me have a little more time,” Jeremiah told them. “I just started looking into this today. It might be something I’ll just turn over to the police, except I’m not sure how to explain to them how I know about the body.” He paused. “Any suggestion?”
“That’s a tough one,” Emma agreed. “If I tell them a ghost led me to the body, they roll their eyes but half expect me to say that. But if you say it, you’ll be putting yourself and your medium skills out there for everyone to see.”
“You ready for that, Jeremiah?” Phil asked. “It’s tough enough on Emma.”
Jeremiah filled the phone with a choked laugh. “Not really, and for a lot of reasons. Shyness isn’t one of them.” He paused to think about his next course of action. “You guys around this week?”
“I’m heading back to San Diego tonight,” Phil said.
“I’m around,” Emma chimed in. “Just call me if you need anything and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”
“Thanks, both of you,” Jeremiah said. “I appreciate that.”
After the call, he started up his bike and was about to take off when an eerie feeling came over him. He placed a hand over his chest and pressed down, but it wasn’t chest pain. Placing his hand there was a habit when these feelings cropped up, like indigestion from too many raw onions. Cops called it gut instincts. Jeremiah had a lot of gut feelings when he was on the job. Most of them turned out to be right on the money. Sometimes it wasn’t a theory on a case. Sometimes it was just a feeling that something important was about to happen and he should keep his wits about him. That was the feeling he had now.
Instead of shrugging it off, he turned off the bike and got off, swinging one long leg back over to join the other. On the back of his motorcycle was a Tour-Pak, a large boxy storage container fastened to the bike just behind his seat. The Tour-Pak was where he locked up his helmet when he parked the bike. He also kept a basic first-aid kit in it and other small items he might need. Unlocking the box, he opened it, then looked around. He’d built a false bottom into it. Lifting that, he pulled out a handgun. As a rule, Jeremiah didn’t like carrying a gun on him when he was working jobs, even if he did have a permit to carry a concealed weapon, but he’d learned to listen to his gut. He slipped his pistol under his jacket at the small of his back, relocked the Tour-Pak, and mounted his bike again.
Jeremiah pulled into an open parking spot just a few steps down from the Angels office and looked around, hoping to see Sloan again. He spotted him farther down the block, standing against a building with a few other guys. He waved at him and Sloan
broke away from the group and joined Jeremiah.
“Can you watch my bike again, Sloan? I need to do some walking around and don’t want to worry about it.” Next time, Jeremiah told himself, he’d bring his SUV. He could lock the truck. He could lock the bike, too, but people could still mess with it. There were public parking lots, but on Sundays the ones in the immediate area didn’t have attendants on duty. Using Sloan was his best choice.
“Sure, man,” he said, “no problem.” When Jeremiah started to hand him some money, Sloan waved it off. “No charge, man. We’re good.” Sloan hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure about it. “I was gonna call you a little later and give you a report. I haven’t found Mistletoe Mary yet, but I’ve been asking around. Most people said she’s probably gone to live with her daughter. Said she was talking about it for the past few weeks.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that, too. Anyone seen her with her kid?” Jeremiah was hoping someone besides Lizzie had spotted the bogus daughter.
“Yeah, one guy said he saw her with a woman several nights ago who might have been her. He was taking a leak in one of the alleys and saw them. Said she had brown hair, kind of slim. Oh, and she wore sunglasses.” It was the same description Lizzie had given.
Sloan shook out a cigarette from a pack he pulled from his jacket pocket. He offered one to Jeremiah, who declined. Sloan lit the smoke and took a deep drag. “I didn’t want to call you until I had more to report. Sorry.”
“Good work, Sloan. Really,” Jeremiah told him with a clasp on his shoulder. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, the guy said he thought maybe the woman was down here looking for drugs, but then he heard her call Mary Mom.”
Drugs fit into Aaron’s theory that maybe Mary Dowling was being used as some sort of mule. Jeremiah smelled a possible lead to match the smell of Granny’s dead body.
“Tell me, Sloan, do you know if Mary sold drugs?”
He shrugged and exhaled. “Not sure she had the smarts to do that, you know? More likely she’d use up the goods before selling them, but I can ask around.” Sloan took another deep drag. When he exhaled, he narrowed his dark eyes at Jeremiah and studied him through the smoke. “I’m not part of that shit anymore, and I intend to keep it that way. I want you to know that. I’m just asking around some of my old contacts.”
The Ghost of Mistletoe Mary Page 7