Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Sure, I can take it,” I said, taking the paper from him.

  “You should really be careful. That guy looked angry. Not someone that I would want to mess with.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said.

  He nodded solemnly and stopped walking. I glanced over my shoulder as I reached the intersection, and he was still just standing there, watching me. He was a homeless man, maybe a little crazy, but I still found myself wondering about who this person was that had been tearing down the flyers. Maybe it was nothing; I’d seen people pull flyers off the walls in the Muni station or the community bulletin board in the library. It was seldom done in anger, though. I slipped the worn flyer into my purse and kept walking.

  Carolyn was already there when I arrived. Because it was well past the normal lunch rush hour, we almost had the whole restaurant to ourselves—there was only one other person, seated alone near the back.

  “I just had a strange experience,” I said. I told Carolyn what had just happened with the homeless guy, and she listened intently, frowning.

  “That seems kind of odd,” she said. “I mean, I know some people do get irrationally angry when they see lots of the same flyer hung up, but... I don’t know. Something about that doesn’t sound quite right. Maybe you should tell the police.”

  “Maybe,” I said, picking up the menu, even though I already knew I wanted to get the pad kee mao. “What would I tell them, though? That some homeless guy saw some man ripping down the flyers?”

  “It could definitely be nothing,” she said. “Maybe he’s just some crazy guy, or maybe he was drunk or something. But... I don’t know. I’d think that you’d want to keep all possibilities on the table.”

  She was about to say something else when the waitress came over to take our order. I ordered the spring rolls and the noodle dish; Carolyn ordered tofu with hot basil and brown rice.

  “Listen,” Carolyn said after the waitress left, “I just want to get this out of the way. Things have felt weird ever since I saw you guys at that Peruvian restaurant. And I’m not okay with that! I’m not okay with things feeling totally weird between my best friend and me.”

  “I know,” I said. “I hate it. There’s too much other stuff going on to be in conflict.”

  “I’ve got to work late this Friday, but I was thinking that maybe the two of us could go out to dinner on Saturday.”

  “That sounds great,” I started to say, but then stopped. “I can’t this Saturday. I’m going to this club thing that’s happening; two of Isa’s friends are putting it on in her honor. I just met them in person the other day and they are such a trip—they actually wanted us to have an orgy with them!”

  Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my God! You didn’t, did you?”

  “No! Of course not! The woman, though, is totally gorgeous, like a goddess or something; you almost can’t believe that someone could be that good-looking. Not that I’m into women, but...” I shrugged. “That’s not the point. I’m not going to hook up with her, even though apparently Isa had some sort of relationship with the two of them.”

  “It’s crazy,” Carolyn said, shaking her head. “Your sister had this whole life that no one really knew anything about.”

  “I think she probably knew it’s not the sort of thing that my parents would want to hear about. She probably thought that I wouldn’t want to hear about it, either.”

  “It’s a little... unorthodox.”

  “Isa’s always done what she wanted.” And this was true. I’d always followed the rules, even when the rules didn’t necessarily make sense or align with what I might have wanted. As a teenager, my parents had imposed limitations and I’d stuck with them; Isa, on the other hand, had done precisely what she wanted, pretty much whenever she wanted. “You know, it must be kind of freeing.”

  “What?”

  “To be like Isa. I always thought I was being the good girl, doing the right thing.”

  “You were. You are. A lot of people would consider that a good thing.”

  “I know, but I’m starting to realize that maybe it wasn’t. I’m not saying that I’m going to go commit a crime or break the law or anything, but I’ve just always done what was safe, what was right, and that usually turns out to be the most boring option.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Carolyn said. “And do I need to point out that you’re comparing yourself to someone who is missing? And that maybe her lifestyle and her lifestyle choices had something to do with that?”

  Even if Carolyn was right, though, and Isa’s lifestyle choices were the main reason for her disappearance, that didn’t really matter; I wanted her to come back all the same.

  Chapter 19

  Jason

  “So, how’s it going with Isa’s sister?” Cole asked me in a low voice.

  We were sitting in the conference room, nursing our coffees that Lena had picked up, though since it was the afternoon when she got them, mine was half decaf. Drew had just cut short the meeting we’d been having, to talk with a client—a wellness conference we were working that weekend, though I’d already cleared it with Drew to leave early because of Laurel and Flax’s shindig.

  “I find it a truly sad state of affairs that a wellness conference needs security,” Lena was saying.

  “The contract’s worth a lot,” Ben pointed out. “We can be glad about that.”

  “I know, but it’s a wellness conference. People are going to be doing yoga and Namaste-ing each other left and right. This is all because of what happened up in Mendocino.”

  “What happened in Mendocino?”

  “The guy with the hunting knife? You didn’t hear about that?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “So...?” Cole said, nudging me with his foot.

  I took a sip of my coffee and winced as it scalded the tip of my tongue. How the hell was it still so hot? I took the lid off and blew on it, briefly entertaining the idea that Julia had put something in it that wouldn’t allow it to cool. I knew she wouldn’t do something like that, but I hadn’t been in there since she’d asked Emmy if we were seeing each other.

  “It’s pretty good,” I said to Cole. I didn’t think I was quite ready to let them in on the fact that Emmy and I were seeing each other.

  Cole raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly. When nothing else was forthcoming, he said, “That’s it?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, man.” But then I thought back to the other day, the feeling of being inside her, the way she looked with her eyes closed, her whole face scrunched up, writhing in what could’ve been pain, could’ve been ecstasy, if you didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face and that was all Cole needed to see.

  “Hot damn!” he exclaimed, slapping his knee.

  Lena looked over. “What the hell is the matter with you, Cole?”

  He ignored her. “When are you going to bring her by? It’d be cool to meet her.”

  “I don’t know if she really wants to come by the office. It’s not like that would be the most exciting thing a person could do.”

  “She doesn’t want to meet the people you spend most of your time with?”

  “She’ll come around at some point,” I said. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it. “Hey, I’m going to head out. Got to go down to Daly City and see my dad.”

  “All right. Peace out, man,” Cole said. I said bye to everyone and waved to Drew from the doorway, not wanting to interrupt his phone conversation. I’d give Emmy a call when I was on my way back and see what she was up to. I’d met her mother, who did seem a bit fragile but very nice; I wasn’t quite ready to have Emmy meet my father. I wasn’t even sure if my father would want to meet her in the first place.

  Traffic wasn’t too bad on the 280, so it didn’t take me long to get to Dad’s. He answered the door wearing a faded old bathrobe and sweatpants, a slightly rank odor emanating from him, or maybe the apartment.

&nbs
p; “Hi, Dad,” I said.

  “You haven’t been around much,” he said, shuffling back toward the kitchen. “I’m making some toast. Was starting to think that you’d forgotten about me.” The way he said it, I could tell that he wouldn’t necessarily object if such a thing happened.

  “I’ve had a lot going on. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. They ever find that girl?”

  “No. Not yet. I’ve actually been trying to help her sister figure out what happened.”

  “Maybe nothing happened—you ever think of that?”

  “What do you mean, nothing happened? Of course something happened. People don’t just disappear.”

  “I did.”

  “That’s a little different. And you came back.” Still, him bringing it up stung a little, having to remember the past like that, the countless nights that I’d been lying in bed, unable to sleep, wondering where my dad had gone off to, if I would ever see him again; how I could understand his pain at losing one of his sons, but wasn’t he aware of the fact that Ryan wasn’t his only kid?

  “I left because my life was unbearable at that moment. And for many, many moments after that. And I came back when I felt as if I had the ability to deal with life.” He held his can of Miller High Life up. “And so I’m doing the best I can. Sometimes people just get overwhelmed with life.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case here,” I said. “I didn’t know Isa, but she seemed to have a pretty idyllic life—the sort of life that most people only dream about.”

  He took his paper plate with the piece of slightly burnt toast on it and went out into the living room. I sat on the couch.

  “Hey,” I said. “What if we opened some of the windows and did a little cleaning? It’s feeling a little stale in here.”

  He gave me a withering look. “It suits me just fine. I’m not trying to impress anyone. Not expecting any guests over anytime.”

  “Let me at least take the trash and recycling out.”

  Dad snorted. “Boy, you know I don’t recycle.”

  I went back out to the kitchen and pulled the overflowing trash bag from the receptacle. I plucked the uppermost layer of crushed beer cans from the bag and put them in a paper grocery bag. Dad wouldn’t go down and redeem them, but if I left them out by the dumpster, someone would come along and take them.

  Having the trash out of the place helped with the rank smell; when I came back inside, I filled the sink with warm, soapy water so the dishes could soak, and wiped off the counters. I took a quick peek in the refrigerator, which was well stocked with beer but not much else.

  “When was the last time you went to the grocery store?” I called out.

  “Yesterday,” he replied.

  “I’m not talking about for beer. I mean for food.”

  “Last week. Or maybe the week before.”

  “I’ll run out to the store for you now.”

  “I don’t need you to do that.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “You’re not my wife, you know.” He snorted. “Not that your mother would have ever done something like that.”

  I sighed. Obviously my father was not in a great mood—though was he ever? Not really.

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “I won’t go to the store if you don’t want me to. I’m not trying to be your wife. Jesus. Can’t someone offer a little help without you taking it personally?”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  I didn’t respond; instead I just stayed in the kitchen and cleaned up, filling the strainer with washed dishes and getting rid of old plastic food containers. It took me a little while, but it looked much better once I was done. Not spotless, but it was a definite improvement.

  I went back out into the living room and sat with my dad for a few minutes, but it was clear that he wasn’t interested in talking. He stared moodily at the TV, where some reality show was on, though it was on mute so I couldn’t hear what the people were saying.

  “Well, okay,” I said after a long stretch of silence. “You don’t really seem to be in the mood for company right now.”

  “I just don’t recall asking you to come over and clean my apartment.”

  “I’m just trying to help out a little, that’s all. If you don’t want me to, I won’t do it again.”

  “Like I said, it’s not as if I’m going to be entertaining any guests here or anything.”

  “You could,” I said. “That girl, Emmy? We’re seeing each other. I met her mom. Emmy might not mind coming down here at some point and meeting you. I think you’d like her.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “Already met her mother, huh? Sounds serious. Still doesn’t mean I want you coming over here and cleaning my place.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, holding my hands up, the sign of defeat. “I already told you, I’m not going to do that again. And next time I’ll call you first and make sure you want me to stop by before heading over.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  I had my hand on the doorknob and was about to push the door open when Dad cleared his throat and called my name.

  “What?” I asked, turning back to look at him.

  “I almost forgot,” he said. “Someone stopped by here looking for you.”

  “For me? Who?”

  “Didn’t leave a name. Not sure why they’d be coming by here in the first place—told him I wasn’t sure when you’d be coming around again. It didn’t seem to be anything too urgent, though. Is there anything you’d like me to tell him should he decide to grace me with his presence again?”

  “What’d he look like?”

  Dad shrugged. “He looked like a regular guy. Nothing about him stood out. Probably around your age, though, so maybe someone you went to school with, wanted to look you up.”

  “Huh. Maybe,” I said, though I doubted it.

  Chapter 20

  Emmy

  What to wear?

  I stood in front of my closet and peered in, as if I were exploring a cave that had just been discovered. There didn’t seem to be much to wear out to a club on a Saturday night. Certainly nothing slinky or sexy or even that risqué. I had a few dresses and a few skirts, which I took out and laid on my bed. A black-and-gray-striped skirt. A maxi dress with blue polka dots. The only one that seemed like it might be okay was this A-line dress I’d gotten at a thrift store, so long ago now that I couldn’t remember the name of the store. But I’d always liked the dress, how it fit, how the soft fabric felt, draped across my body. The dress had cap sleeves and was navy blue with tiny pink rosebuds on emerald green stems. It would have to do. For shoes, I had a pair of ballet flats in the same color pink as the rosebuds.

  I brushed my hair and put it up in a topknot, then dusted a little blush on and applied some lip gloss. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, and decided that I looked as good as I could, given the limited clothes and accessories that I was working with.

  I drove down to Jason’s and actually managed to snag a parking spot right in front of his building. He looked great, though I had the feeling he’d spent considerably less time agonizing over what to wear than I did; he had on a pair of green cargo shorts and a black-and-gray-striped polo. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he pulled me into his arms.

  “Look at you,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. “You look stunning. You ready?”

  “I think so.”

  The club was a few blocks from 24th and Mission, so we decided to take BART instead of having to deal with parking. The energy on the train, and then once we got off the train, seemed charged, like everyone was in a good mood because they were out for the evening, enjoying themselves. And there was something exciting about having a whole night ahead of you for whatever adventure might lie in wait. I held Jason’s hand as we walked through The Mission.

  “It’s not too late to turn back,” Jason whispered as we approached the club. The building throbbed, pulsating with a heavy, frenet
ic beat. There was a line of people snaking around the corner, a festive atmosphere. Everyone seemed like they were in such a good mood. Some of the girls were wearing glitter and fairy wings, arms adorned with brightly colored beads; guys wore fuzzy vests and tall boots. Some people were not dressed outlandishly but very upscale—form-fitting, well-designed clothes that accentuated all the right places. I felt horribly underdressed, plain, and wished that I had worn something different. Why had I thought wearing this dress was a good idea? I realized, as I saw what other women were wearing, that I looked more like a librarian, or a parent who was on her way to her child’s conference.

  “I want to go,” I whispered back to him. And I did. At first, I hadn’t been sure, but how could anyone resist that look on Laurel’s face? I’d never been attracted to a woman before, and I definitely wasn’t thinking of hooking up with Laurel, but I could see how someone could be totally powerless to her whims. “Besides, it might be a good opportunity to meet someone who knows something about Isa. You never know.”

  “Right,” he said, as we passed by a couple wearing these weird one-piece rainbow skinsuits. They were pressed up against the side of the building, oblivious to the rest of the world as they made out.

  “I think they said we were on the list? So we don’t have to wait in this line? Or should we wait?”

  Jason surveyed the line of people. “We’ll be out here for a while if we do that,” he said. “Come on; follow me.” We walked on the other side of the velvet ropes, moving up to the entrance. I could feel people watching me.

  “Hey, it’s Isa!” I heard someone shout.

  More people’s gazes swiveled my way, more shouts of, “Isa! Isa!”

  “That’s not Isa,” I heard someone say. “No way in hell Isa would wear something like that.”

  I felt my face flush at that comment, and I ducked my head and walked faster toward the front of the line.

  As it turned out, Jason knew the bouncer, this big black guy he slapped palms with.