“And so the logical jump is to go from calling someone a bitch to kidnapping them.” Lena rolled her eyes. “And if this alleged kidnapping really did take place, wouldn’t they be demanding some sort of ransom? What’s the point in kidnapping some rich, famous person if they’re not going to get something in return?”
Cole narrowed his eyes. “Who says that they’re going to want money?”
“Oh, my God.” Lena shook her head. “Get your mind out of the gutter! I don’t think anyone is going to kidnap someone who is well-known just to sell them into sex slavery or something!”
“What if it’s some deranged fan? What if they’ve got her in their basement and they’re just going to keep her there and make her DJ for them? She’s like a prisoner or something?”
“Then we obviously didn’t do our job,” Drew said tersely. “I’ve got to go make a couple of calls. We can sit around and speculate all day, but that’s not going to get us anywhere. I’ve been in touch with Ian and will continue to contact him. And if the police need to talk with us any more, we will certainly provide them with whatever additional information we can. This was obviously something that no one wanted to have happen, and the best we can do now is hope that Isa is returned safely.”
I stood up to retrieve my lukewarm coffee from the holder, and as I did so, felt my phone start to vibrate in my pocket. I took my coffee into my office, leaving Ben and Cole still sitting there on the couch. Sitting down at my desk, I looked at my phone.
Hey, the text read, this is Emmy Bender, Isa’s sister. I’m going to be down in the city later this afternoon and was wondering if you had any time to meet up?
Absolutely, I wrote back. Just tell me when and where.
2ish? she wrote back. Huntington Park, maybe?
Huntington Park was just a few blocks from my place—had I told her where I lived? I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t think that would be something that would’ve come up.
Sure, I typed back. Sounds good. See you then.
I glanced at the clock. I’d have a few hours to try to focus on this damn proposal, and then I could bail and meet up with Emmy. Was it weird that I hadn’t mentioned meeting her? Part of me felt as if it was, though I certainly wasn’t trying to keep anything from my co-workers. It was true that I felt this strange connection with Emmy that I couldn’t quite explain.
***
We sat on a bench in Huntington Park. Emmy had a notepad balanced on one knee and was doodling in the upper right-hand corner.
“I think we should make a list,” she said. “All the people Isa knows who might be able to give us some information.” She stopped doodling and wrote down a few names. “I’ve got her manager, Warren, whom I’d rather never talk to again, but he spends a lot of time with her and probably knows a lot of other people she’s friends with. And this guy, Scout Derringer. He’s a club promoter, I guess? One of the guys at the club told me his name that day I ran into you, but he didn’t give me his contact information—he just said to look him up on social media. Which I did, but he hasn’t responded to any of my messages, and I can’t find a phone number for him.”
“Scout?” I said. I’d had a few interactions with him in the past, at previous events we’d worked at Heathens. I didn’t have his number, but it’d be easy enough to get. “I can probably get his number.”
“You know him?”
“We work a lot of the events at Heathens, and he’s a big promoter, so, yeah, I’ve had a few conversations with him.”
Emmy nodded. “Well, the guy who told me about him said that he saw Scout and Isa having a conversation on Saturday night that looked like it could have been an argument.”
Scout was like a cartoon character, with his blond flattop and multiple piercings, and bright, outlandish clothing. It was hard to imagine that he would have anything to do with hurting anyone, but then again, I didn’t really know him that well.
“I’m trying to think of other friends or people, but I just can’t,” Emmy said.
“Well, I won’t be too helpful in terms of coming up with any names,” I said. “But... did she have a boyfriend? A best friend? A confidante?” I thought about what Cole had been saying earlier, about her being kidnapped or tortured or something. I didn’t want to bring up that possibility, but it was probably likely that it had already crossed Emmy’s mind. “Do you think there was anyone who wanted to hurt her?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I hope not, but it’s possible. She knew so many people. She’s always been really popular, but I’m sure she got into a few conflicts here and there. She’s one of those people who just always speaks her mind; it’s never bothered her how other people are going to take it. I think we should go to her apartment. She doesn’t live too far from here.”
“The police will probably want to do a search of the place; I’m not sure we should go over there if they haven’t been there yet.”
“They didn’t say I couldn’t,” she said. “And I’m not going to disturb anything. Isa hardly ever goes there anyway, but I just feel like there could be something there. Something that the police might not even realize but I might.”
“You have a key?”
“No, but it’s a keyless entry. And I know the code.”
“Then that’s a good place to start.”
Emmy said Isa lived in a loft in South of Market, so we walked down Powell Street. A cable car trundled past, tourists hanging off the sides and the back, taking pictures. They all looked so foolishly happy that I felt a flash of envy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that carefree.
“I appreciate you coming with me,” Emmy said as we stopped at an intersection. A crowd gathered around us as we waited for the light to change, and she took a step closer to me, our arms brushing against each other. “I didn’t really have a plan for today, but it feels better to have someone with me. So, thank you.”
The light changed and we were swept up into the flow of people as we stepped down off the sidewalk into the street. I could’ve told her that the guilt over this whole thing was eating away at me, that I had barely been able to get any sleep since it happened, that finding Isa safe was starting to feel like the only way I’d be able to atone for the fact that I was the last person to see her before she disappeared. But I didn’t say any of that; instead I just nodded and told her that I was happy to do so.
Someone was leaving Isa’s building as we approached, so Emmy made a quick grab for the door before it shut. We slipped inside and took the stairs up to the third floor. We walked down a softly lit hallway, to door number ten. Emmy stood there a moment and then pressed some buttons on the keypad. The door clicked and she turned the handle, pushing it open.
“I don’t know what we should be looking for,” she said as we stepped inside into a long hallway that opened into a large, high-ceilinged room. There were two huge windows with a nice view of the Bay and the Bay Bridge.
The place was neat, with minimal furniture, a desk set up in one corner with a large Mac computer, and next to that a table with DJ equipment. The back wall was a library of records; there must have been thousands. A sad-looking African violet sat in the middle of the dining table, which was carved out of some sort of huge gemstone.
“I can’t even remember the last time I was here,” Emmy said. She walked over and looked at the African violet. She walked with a slight limp, which I hadn’t noticed until now. She turned away from me and sniffled.
“Hey,” I said. “Are you okay?” I took a step closer, but stopped short of actually touching her. She turned, wiping at her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m trying not to have a meltdown right now. I just... I feel really overwhelmed with everything and I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”
“You’re doing fine,” I said. And then I did reach out and put a hand on her shoulder, and I swear, I felt as if there were some sort of electrical current running from her straight into me. It startled me, and I pulled my hand
back. I coughed, trying to make it appear as though that was the reason I yanked my hand away. It wasn’t a bad sensation. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. It really is. The not knowing. But... hopefully we’ll come up with answers.”
“I don’t know if I trust the police,” she said softly. “That sounds awful to say. But... I had an experience a few years ago and they weren’t able to do anything then, so I just feel like if I want answers now, then I’ve got to do it on my own.”
She went over to the desk and pulled open one of the drawers. I watched as she leafed through it, pulling a few papers out and looking at them before putting them back in. She closed that drawer and opened the next, did the same thing. Then she stopped, suddenly, standing up straight, as if something had just occurred to her.
“What?” I said.
“Hold on one sec.”
She walked past me, to the stairs that were next to the kitchen. She trotted up the stairs and disappeared; when she came back down she had something in her hand. It was a small book with a pink cover and a black tribal design running down the spine.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s her journal. We both have one; our mother got them for us when we graduated high school. Isa would always keep her journals in between the mattress and box spring.” She opened it and I watched as her eyes scanned the pages. She frowned, her face getting red. She turned the page.
“You should probably turn that over to the police,” I said. “In case there’s something in there that might be helpful.”
She closed the book. “I don’t know if there is. There’s certainly a lot of details about her sex life.” She slipped the book into her purse. “I’m not even really sure what I’m looking for, but maybe this has some clues.”
We left after a few more minutes, Emmy pulling the door closed behind her. I followed her back down the three flights of stairs, thinking of how I had watched Isa walk away from me that night at Heathens. Emmy had a slight limp, but their gait was similar, the way they held their shoulders.
“Emmy!”
We’d just stepped outside and were heading toward Market Street when a guy, red-faced, short, with buzzed blond hair, rushed over, yelling Emmy’s name. Instinctively, I stepped in front of her as he reached us.
“Whoa,” I said.
“Silas!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing? Are you following me?”
“No! I just got off of Muni and I looked over here and saw you! What are the chances!” He laughed, a little maniacally sounding. He glanced at me but then looked back at Emmy. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a twin sister? And who’s this guy?”
I could tell this was clearly not someone that she wanted to be dealing with right now, or ever.
“I’m—” I started to say, but she cut me off.
“My boyfriend.” She looped her arm through mine. “This is my boyfriend.” Red splotches appeared on her cheeks, but she kept her gaze fixed on Silas, as though she were daring him to contradict her.
“Your... what? But I thought we... didn’t you get the flowers?”
“You mean those smashed carnations?”
He guffawed. “Yeah, well, about that... I didn’t mean to smash them like that. I was just... I was feeling upset about the way things went down between us, but I wanted you to have them, because I want you to know that I care. I do. And then I thought I saw your picture on Facebook, but it was really your twin sister. Who’s missing. Can I help? I want to help.”
“No, it’s really okay. We don’t need your help,” Emmy said. “And I also don’t need you leaving me flowers or anything like that, okay? Please. This hasn’t been the easiest past couple of days for me, and I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything, but... I just need you to respect what I’m saying.”
Her arm was still hooked around mine, and again it was like I could feel this current of tingling energy flowing through her. It had been a long time since I’d been involved with a woman—had it been so long that I was now hyper-sensitive to it?
“I’d listen to what she says,” I told Silas.
“Or what?” he asked petulantly. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’d rather not go there,” I said. He was several inches shorter than I was and I probably outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. “But if you want to step around back, we can get this sorted out.”
He eyed me, trying to ascertain whether I meant it or not. I did, and I didn’t. I wasn’t going to take him out back and beat him up, but I also wasn’t going to just stand there and let him harass Emmy. Finally, he held his hands up and took a step back.
“I’m not looking for anything like that,” he said. He looked at Emmy. “I don’t see how you can deny the connection that we have,” he said. “How can you just ignore that?” Fortunately, he didn’t wait for her response; he crossed the street without even bothering to look.
Emmy exhaled and pulled her arm away. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she reopened them, Silas had disappeared around the block.
“Who was that?” I asked.
She looked down at the ground. “That... was a mistake. Obviously. Someone I met online.”
“He seems a little... unhinged.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know him that well. We went on a few dates and I probably should have called it off after the first one. But... I thought maybe I wasn’t giving him enough of a chance, even though I knew we were totally incompatible. Except he doesn’t seem to think so.”
“It’s funny how that works, isn’t it?” I said. She gave me a quizzical look. “I just mean how one person can think that everything seemed all good when the other person didn’t at all.”
“That was the most straightforward I’ve been with him,” she said. “So, hopefully, that’ll work. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that, saying you were my boyfriend.” She blushed. “I guess that wasn’t really being that straightforward either, if it was a lie. I swear I’m not really like that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to hide my smile at her bumbling. God, she was cute. The thought flashed through my mind again, and again I tried to banish it. Not the time, not the place. “If saying I’m your boyfriend will get a guy like that off your tail, then by all means.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
“So, where to now?”
“Well... I was thinking of maybe stopping by Shear Delight. That’s where Les works—well, hopefully still works. It’s not too far from here.”
“Sounds good.”
Stepping into the hair salon reminded me that I needed to get my own hair cut, though I certainly wasn’t going to go to a place like this, where they probably charged fifty bucks for a trim. It was definitely an upscale place, the décor a mixture of trendy bar and Zen center.
“Hi,” Emmy said to the girl behind the counter.
“Do you have an appointment?” the girl asked.
“No, I’m actually looking for someone. Does Les still work here?”
“Yes,” the girl said, “though who knows for how much longer that will be.”
“Um...” Emmy glanced at me.
“Could we talk to him for a minute?” I asked.
“He’s in the break room. Let me— ” She was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek, which startled me but didn’t seem to alarm her at all. Her carefully-drawn-on eyebrows arched ever so slightly. “Never mind—here he is,” she said as a thin guy with a bleached-blond pompadour came bounding over.
“Oh, my God—Emmy!” he said, quickly embracing her. “Girl, I’ve been blowing up your Facebook—why haven’t you gotten back to me? Have you heard from Isa?” He looked me up and down. “I saw you at Heathens,” he said. “VIP lounge.”
“You’re right,” I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.
He gave me a half-smile. “Don’t look so shocked—I’d never forget a face like that.” He turned his attention back to Emmy.
“I haven’t heard anything,” E
mmy said. “I was going to ask you the same thing. But I guess I’ve got my answer. This is Jason, by the way. Jason, this is Les.”
I shook Les’s hand, which felt like little more than a feather in my own.
“I’m such a wreck,” he said. “I don’t even know if I should be here right now. I almost ruined the hair of one of my clients because I totally forgot I’d put highlights in and left her sitting under the dryer for way too long! But I feel like this is all my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Emmy asked.
Les looked over at the receptionist. “I’m going to go grab a coffee, okay?” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t bother to wait for her to respond; instead he ushered us out of the salon and around the block to a coffee shop.
“We don’t actually have to go in,” he said. “I just needed to get out of there for a minute.”
“Why do you feel like this was your fault?” Emmy asked.
“I’m usually way more attentive to Isa before she performs,” he said. “We were in the VIP lounge together, but I was with this guy I’d met on Tinder, and I just wasn’t giving her the attention that I usually do. If I had, I know this wouldn’t have happened. There’s no way someone would’ve been able to abscond her the way they did if I had been paying attention.” A choked sob escaped from him, and he blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay. He fanned his face with his hand, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry,” he said. He reached over and hugged Emmy again. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I’ve been replaying the whole night back in my head and I just can’t for the life of me figure out what happened. I mean, I can’t even remember what the last thing we said was. I remember having conversations that night, but what was our last one? When she told me she was going to talk to Scout? No, because then I am almost certain I saw her again and I asked her what she thought about Trent. Or did that happen before? I just can’t remember.”
“It’s okay,” Emmy said, a gentle note in her voice. “You were out at a club and you wanted to have a good time. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen.”
Parker Security Complete Series Page 6