Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Oh, yeah? That’s really cool. What kind of stuff do you do?”

  “It varies, but there’s a children’s book series I’ve worked on—it’s an ongoing thing. Sake and Sushi. It’s about these two dogs. You probably haven’t heard of it.”

  “I admit to not being up on my children’s literature.” He smiled. “But I’ll have to check it out.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “It’s... kind of silly. There’s this little company that I do greeting cards for, too. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about writing what’s inside. It’s not Hallmark or anything, but it’s one of my long-term clients.”

  “Maybe you can show me some of the stuff you’ve done. I don’t have one iota of artistic ability, but I was always envious of people who did.”

  I felt my face flush and I ducked my head, a little embarrassed that he was obviously genuinely interested in what I did.

  “Did you try and get in touch with Scout?” he asked.

  “Not yet. I was going to wait until I was with you to text him.” I took my phone out of my purse and found his number. “What should I say?”

  “I’d just tell him you’re Isa’s sister and you were hoping to talk with him. I don’t know the guy super well or anything, but he’s always seemed pretty friendly.”

  I did exactly as Jason said, and sent the text off. Scout replied less than a minute later. Just heading out to get some nourishment. Didn’t realize Isa had a sister. If you’d like to chat, you can meet with me now. Need to get some coffee into me pronto.

  Sure, I wrote back. Thanks for such a fast reply. We’ll meet up with you now.

  He gave me the address where he’d be, and Jason finished the rest of his coffee, then we left, off to find Scout and hear whatever information he might be able to give us.

  ***

  We met up with him at a café that was also a laundromat. I’d never been there before, but it actually seemed like a rather hip place. And not a bad idea if you had to bring your laundry somewhere to do it—instead of just sitting there while your clothes swirled around the washer, you could get something to eat or enjoy a coffee. Scout had a cereal-sized bowl full of some sort of steamed milk concoction, and a giant blueberry muffin, sliced in half and drenched with butter.

  I wondered, as I looked at him, if he always dressed like that. He was wearing a bright, short-sleeved orange shirt with pink polka dots, shiny purple pants, Elvis-like sunglasses, and a bowler hat. His shoes were two-tone creepers, and, by all appearances, he was wearing sparkly pink lip gloss. Or his lips were just naturally like that, but I didn’t think so.

  “This is kind of tripping me out,” he said as we sat down across from him. “You look so much like her. I want to, like, touch your face to see if you’re real. I won’t—but I want to.” He looked at Jason. “I know you,” he said. “Parker Security, right? Drew Parker’s crew?”

  Jason nodded. “Correct,” he said. “We were hoping to talk with you about Isa.”

  “Isa,” he said. Using two hands, he lifted his bowl of milky coffee and took a sip, set it down and then meticulously wiped the foam off his upper lip with the corner of a napkin. “Isa. What the hell is up with that? I’m unfortunately not the person to talk to if you’re looking for Isa, because I have no clue where she is. And I already talked with the cops that night at Heathens.”

  “I’m just trying to find something to go off of,” I said. “Something—anything. I’ll talk to everyone Isa knows if that’s what it’s going to take.”

  Scout raised an eyebrow. “That could take you the rest of your life. As I’m sure you’re well aware, Isa is... well, more than popular, shall we say. Everyone knows her. Well, everyone in the party scene, and any casual club-goer.”

  “I guess I don’t mean that I’m literally going to talk to everyone she ever knew,” I said, “though if that meant she’d return safely, I would. I just mean that I don’t even really know any of her close friends, or if she had a boyfriend, or someone she was seeing, or anything like that.”

  Scout was giving me a funny look as I said all this, and I realized that it probably did seem strange—here I was, trying to track down strangers in an attempt to find out where my sister was. Shouldn’t I know who her friends were? Who she was dating? If nothing else, this whole thing was simply affirming that I was not a good sister at all.

  Just let us find her, I thought. Let us find her and I will make it up to her. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, if I have to.

  “She was seeing a lot of people,” Scout said. “I wasn’t keeping track. And she also wasn’t dishing the gossip to me about that sort of thing, either.”

  “So you mean she had a lot of boyfriends?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think Isa necessarily did the whole relationship thing, not like monogamous or anything like that. This sort of lifestyle we lead... it’s not so conducive to that sort of thing. Most of the people who are married are in open relationships, anyway. But who can I think of? She was pretty tight with Laurel and Flax.”

  “Laurel and Flax?”

  “Yeah, the two drum ’n’ bass DJs? They’d play out together sometimes, were supposed to be headlining a big party down in Santa Cruz next month. They might be worth talking to. And Warren, her manager. I’m sure you’ve spoken with him. He’ll probably be able to tell you something more about Isa’s personal life. I’m just a party promoter.”

  “But you knew her,” Jason said.

  “Of course I knew her. Like I said, party promoter.” He pointed to himself. “Any party promoter worth their shit around here is going to know Isa. But we weren’t hooking up—we’d hang out but never one-on-one or anything, and we didn’t gossip to each other over Sunday brunch. If that was the sort of information you thought I’d be able to give you, then I’m sorry but you’re going to be severely disappointed. I hate disappointing people, but I’m certainly not just going to start making stuff up now, either.”

  “We don’t want you to do that,” I said. “And I guess I’m not even sure what I thought you might be able to tell us. I’m not trying to put you on the spot or anything.”

  He gave me what might be considered a flirtatious smile. “You could never put me on the spot.”

  Jason coughed and then pushed himself back from the table, made like he was going to stand up. “Well, okay, then,” he said. “Thanks for meeting up with us.”

  “You should talk to Lucas,” Scout said suddenly.

  “Lucas? Who’s that?”

  “You know the club Oddlands?”

  I shook my head, but Jason was nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “I know that place.”

  “Well, Lucas owns it.”

  “Why do you think we should talk to him? Did he know Isa?”

  A dark look crossed Scout’s face. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He gave me a withering look, as if I should know exactly what he was talking about. “You should talk to him,” was all he would say.

  ***

  “Was that weird?” I asked Jason after we’d left Scout to finish his giant bowl of coffee.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know; I feel like the conversation ended strangely.”

  “Scout’s kind of a strange guy, if you didn’t notice.”

  “I guess I meant the part about Oddlands. Should we go there?”

  “We could try. It’s not far from here.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  We walked next to each other, the sun warm on my shoulders. It was one of those rare, very warm early-summer days in San Francisco, and I found myself enjoying the simple act of walking through the city on a beautiful day.

  Oddlands was one of those places that you’d walk right by if you weren’t looking for it. It was on the downtown/Tenderloin border, in a nondescript, ramshackle building with no sign out front. Just a heavy wood door with a brass handle. We stepped inside and f
ound ourselves in a dark hallway. A few feet further ahead was a velvet curtain that Jason held back for me so I could pass through.

  The inside of the club was like stepping into some sort of medieval cathedral, with its stonework and pointed arches. There were a few lights on, which cast a dim glow on what felt like a rather depressing place. Four huge, wrought-iron cages that looked like antique birdcages flanked the main stage, which was raised only a few feet off the ground.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “Those would be for the cage dancers,” Jason said, so matter-of-factly that it was clear he must’ve been here at some point.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. This is definitely one of the more... underground clubs, shall we say.”

  There was a wall-mounted display case to my left, hung with lots of different flyers. One of them had Isa’s picture on it. She was standing behind her turntables, headphones around her neck, looking straight at the camera, making a kissing face. You could only see her from the waist up; her hair was blue, pinned up on either side of her head in two buns. She was wearing a leather corset. After Hours with Isa the caption read, in large, bright-red text. Invite Only.

  “We’re not open,” a voice said.

  I turned.

  A girl stood behind me, arms crossed. She wore leather pants and a tight leopard-print tank top. Her stiletto boots must have had at least six-inch heels. She had the perfect hourglass figure and a very annoyed look on her face. “How did you get in?”

  “The door was unlocked,” Jason said.

  She rolled her eyes. “One of these days Max will learn how to lock the door after he comes in.” She looked over her shoulder. “Max! You forgot to lock the goddamned door again!” she shouted, and a guy stuck his head out from one of the rooms off to the side.

  “Pretty sure I locked it,” he said.

  “Then how did these two get in? Did they pick the lock?”

  Max shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked at us. “You two pick the lock?”

  “Uh, no—door was wide open,” Jason said.

  Max shrugged again and looked at the woman. “Oops,” he said, and then disappeared back into the room.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “When you’re the boss’s son, apparently you can get away with anything. So, yeah,” she said to us, “we’re closed right now. Door should’ve been locked. Come back later.” She eyed Jason. “You especially.”

  “We were actually hoping to speak to Lucas,” he said. “He around?”

  “He might be,” she said slowly. “He didn’t say he was expecting anyone.”

  “We didn’t have an appointment.”

  Her gaze flickered between the two of us. “Hold on,” she said finally. “Wait here.”

  She walked off, her heels clicking smartly on the brushed-concrete floor. I’d been to a handful of club events before—it definitely wasn’t my scene—but I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like here on a Saturday night. And After Hours with Isa? Invite Only? What on earth did that even mean?

  “This place is weird,” I said under my breath. Yet at the same time, I could picture my sister here, and, much like that photo of her on the flyer, in my mind, she seemed perfectly at ease, like she was amongst her tribe. There was so much about my sister that I didn’t know, so much that I didn’t understand. I supposed you could say the reverse was true also, but it seemed different because my life was completely boring and predictable, when hers was clearly so full of variety and interesting people.

  “What did you say your names were?” I heard the clicking of high heels on the floor as the woman reappeared.

  “I’m Emmy,” I said. “And this is Jason.”

  “Lucas is in his office. He wouldn’t normally meet with you like this if you didn’t call or set up an appointment, but... he said to go on back.” It was clear from the expression on her face that she did not agree with this, but she gestured toward the back of the club where she had just come from. “That way,” she said.

  Jason was close behind me as we made our way back. There was a hallway and a door at the end, which was open. I walked down to it and paused in the entryway.

  “Come in.” There was a large desk in the middle of the room, made of dark, ornately carved wood. It was piled with papers, a laptop, old receipts. I stepped inside.

  Lucas was a big man, tall, broad-shouldered, greased-back dark hair, pockmarks on his face. He had on a bright-red button-down shirt, the top buttons undone, curly chest hair pushing its way out like weeds between the cracks in concrete. He had thick, rubbery lips and a way of looking at me that made me feel as if I were under a microscope. He leaned back in the leather executive chair he was sitting in and licked those lips of his.

  “I wasn’t expecting visitors,” he said. “Christ, if you ain’t the spitting image of Isa,” he said.

  “She’s my twin.”

  “Apparently. So, how can I help you?”

  “As I’m sure you’ve heard, she’s missing. I’m trying to find her.”

  “The concerned twin sister,” he said. “Isn’t that sweet.”

  “We’re really just wondering if you had any information about her,” Jason said. I glanced over at him; he seemed tense, his jaw clenched, his gaze hard on Lucas. “Scout told us that Isa would play here sometimes.”

  “She did after-hours parties for me. Other stuff. But if you came here thinking I’d be able to give you any information about her whereabouts, you’re wrong. You looking for a job?”

  “Me?” I said.

  He nodded. “’Cause that’s something I could help you out with.”

  “I don’t DJ,” I replied, thinking back to that conversation I’d had with the owner at Heathens. “I can’t just fill in for Isa or anything like that.”

  “I beg to differ,” Lucas said. “Although I never beg.”

  He laughed and Jason took a step closer to me, his hand going to the small of my back. “Okay,” he said. “Thanks for your time. We’ll be heading out. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “Give me your number,” Lucas said, looking straight at me. “I’ll be in touch if I think of anything.”

  “Why don’t I give you my number instead,” Jason said.

  “What—are you her bodyguard? Her keeper? I think she’s a big enough girl to give me her own phone number. I won’t bite.” He laughed. “Not too hard, anyway.”

  “It’s okay,” I said quietly to Jason. I reached over on his desk and grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen and wrote my number down. Lucas snatched the piece of paper from me.

  “Emmeline,” he said. “Isabel and Emmeline.” He looked at me with those odd, amber-colored eyes of his. He slid a business card across the desk. “And here’s my contact info.”

  I looked at the card, which had a gold-embossed seal and Lucas Oddland spelled out in Old English script.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He flashed me a Cheshire-cat grin. I thought I caught a flash of a gold tooth. “You’re quite welcome.”

  ***

  “I don’t like that guy,” Jason said after we’d left Oddlands. “I didn’t have much of an opinion about him prior to this, but now I can definitely say that I don’t like him.”

  “I can tell he’s not the most... upstanding citizen,” I said. “He owns a club called Oddlands, so I guess that’s not entirely surprising.”

  “Well, I doubt you’ll hear from him again, anyway.”

  I pulled my phone out of my purse and checked the time. “Shoot,” I said. “I need to move my car. That is, if I can remember where I parked it.” We headed back toward the direction of the coffee shop, and I found my car a block away—no ticket, thank goodness.

  “I’m not exactly sure what my plan is now,” I said. My feet were starting to hurt from all the walking we’d been doing.

  “You want to cruise up to my place for a little bit?” Jason asked. “It’s not far from here.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Jason
gave me directions to his place and there was a car just pulling out from its parking spot as I approached.

  “Wow,” he said. “Right in front of the building. It was meant to be.”

  Stepping into Jason’s apartment was like entering some sort of sanctuary. It faced the street, and I could vaguely hear the cars as they went by, but it was so calm and peaceful inside, it was like I wasn’t in the city at all.

  “I like your place,” I said.

  “Thanks. You want something to drink or anything?”

  “I’ll have some water.”

  I followed him down the hallway past the kitchen and into the living room, which was bright and airy and had big bay windows overlooking the street. French doors led into what I presumed was the bedroom. I sat down on the couch while Jason went into the kitchen. There was a thumbed-through issue of Sports Illustrated on the coffee table, along with a book of vintage maps. I picked up the book, which was hefty, and leafed through it.

  “Are you interested in maps?” I asked when he came back out. He handed me the glass and I took a sip.

  “Er... not really,” he said. “That was a belated birthday gift my mother sent me. Totally random. But I like flipping through it sometimes, so I guess you could say I kind of am interested in it, even though it happened to be by default.”

  “These are cool.” I traced my finger along the border of an island, a tiny place that I’d never heard of before.

  “I’m more into Google Maps, to be honest,” Jason said. “That whole thing kind of trips me out, but it’s neat, especially with the street view.”

  “I haven’t used it much,” I admitted. Seeing as I never really went anywhere, I didn’t have much need to go onto Google Maps.

  “It’s crazy, ’cause you can basically go anywhere. Get right down onto the street level and take a look around, kind of like a virtual vacation. It’s a good way to see a part of the world you might never go to.”

  I closed the book of maps and slid it back onto the coffee table. “Between the two of us, Isa was always the worldly one,” I said. I took a deep breath. “I just feel weird about this whole thing. I mean, it’s making me realize how little I really knew about Isa, about her life. I feel like shit about it, if you want to know the truth. And it sucks that it takes her disappearing for me to come to this conclusion.”