Goodbye, Good Girl

by Renee Blossom

  “I’ll make a copy of the tenant record. Will that be satisfactory?”

  “Deal. How long has the current guy been in there?”

  “Few weeks,” he said, walking away with his records. On return with a copy, he looked April and Kandace up and down, taking way longer than necessary and made no expression. April crossed her arms, shifted on her feet.

  He asked, “You work for some bounty hunter? Some lawyer’s office?”

  “We work for ourselves,” April said.

  His nose crinkled as he snickered. “Like hell you do.” He handed a short paper stack to April, then he returned his file to the cabinet. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” April said, and walked out, Kandace in tow.

  Once they were back on the street, Kandace asked, “What was all that about?”

  “We got it,” April said. “I’m happy to rustle the bushes for your dad. Damn. I saw what your mother was onto. His jawline? Those eyes? Yummy.”

  “Stop, April. Seriously,” Kandace said, vying to see the pages. “Is he on there?”

  “It’s not under his real name, girl. Here,” April said, handing pages to Kandace, one at a time. “Take a picture and send it to your friend so he can search.”

  Kandace photographed each page and texted them to Markus. He replied right away that he got them, and that finding a new lead would take a while; possibly hours.

  “Venice Boulevard, baby!” April said, “C’mon. Let’s walk around.”

  Kandace followed April down the sidewalk. “Sure, why not.” She sent a text to her father: I’m in LA looking for you

  “You look pissed. Are you okay?” April asked.

  “I just texted my dad. Ruins my whole surprise, but I’d rather see him than not.”

  “Eh. Sorry. I know what you mean. Do you think your friend can find him?”

  “I hope so. I have no clue what I’ll do if he can’t.”

  “You think maybe your sisters will come out after you find him?”

  “I doubt it, with my mom being in rehab. My aunt Viv is the only family we have to do that and I can’t see her springing for plane tickets.”

  “Yeah. Families can suck.” April pointed at a building up ahead. “Check that out.”

  A mural of a young woman in jeans and a white crop top; a soft blue sky and clouds painted on a two-story building. They wandered the market. Dogs on leashes, couples holding hands. A pregnant woman toting an unhappy baby she desperately tried to appease. Palm trees provided pleasant shade.

  Sunshine, a warm breeze, and sprightly people walking about; like a new lease on life.

  “This place is so cool,” Kandace said and April agreed, though she didn’t feel herself at all. She wanted to escape her own skin for awhile. And just be.

  Purses and crafts, fancy decor and shoes. They wandered, seeking distractions while Kandace checked her phone every few minutes for new activity. She window shopped a jeweler and paused at the door. “Should we go in? We’ve got time.”

  April shrugged. “I hope you’re not planning to do anything crazy.”

  “Oh, I’m just going to look.”

  “Tell me you saved your cash for the car, right?”

  “Yes, Mom. I kept a little. Seriously. I can look without buying.”

  Kandace’s phone chimed and she froze, freeing it from her purse. That sound was for text messages.

  Vivian: Ginger’s rehab center called about the past due balance. What happened to her bank balance?

  Huh? Kandace texted: Insurance covers that. And she has one account.A moment later: Partial pay. I can help, but she’s way short.

  Kandace closed her eyes and thought a million things. Kandace messaged: how much does she need?

  “K? You got something?” April asked, standing over a jewelry counter, surveying earrings. A well-dressed young woman offered espresso. Kandace smiled back, but didn’t want to answer.

  Vivian: $5182 but anything helps

  Oh, no. Messaged: i will send what i can.

  Vivian: don’t worry yourself, i wanted to know if ginger had more money to use

  “Miss? Would you like an espresso?” the woman asked.

  Kandace held her phone and her purse and felt as though she couldn’t understand. She nodded after her silence had gotten uncomfortable, and the woman ushered a small white cup with a saucer.

  April came over. “Have you seen a dead person? Because that’s about how you look.”

  Kandace shook her head and glanced at the exquisite jewelry on display. “Mom needs money, so I’ve got to take care of her.” She shrugged. “At least I can, for once.”

  “Do you need to leave?”

  Kandace shook her head, looking around. She sipped the espresso, licking the crema off her lips. “It can wait.”

  She had to decide—how much could she spare to cover her mother’s expenses? And what she didn’t pay for, where else might the money come from? Kandace knew her mother’s checking account held two hundred dollars. Vivian must have seen that.

  She used her phone to transfer funds between her personal checking and the joint checking she shared with Ginger. Transfer five thousand two hundred dollars, click to confirm.

  Confirmed.

  Breathe. It’s done. She could help her mother. It was the right thing to do. She texted Vivian: money transferred to mom’s checking

  Vivian messaged back: how much is in there?

  Kandace panicked, unsure of how to tell her aunt. 5400.

  Vivian: how did that happen?

  Kandace sucked in and debated with herself. How could she tell her aunt without telling her where the money came from? Her aunt wouldn’t accept the new employment—not that she required her aunt’s approval—but she didn’t want a fight and the rumors to follow would be horrible.

  Kandace: it was savings, just in case

  She hoped V wouldn’t press the issue—but would just believe that somehow Kandace’s part time job paid enough to save up five thousand dollars—as if they hadn’t needed all of her income week to week. She felt relieved, a sense of accomplishment and purpose at being able to help her mother with medical bills, but she dreaded approaching the topic of dancing with anyone else, Vivian least of all. The woman thrived on gossip like the housewife she was.

  Pushing the trouble at home aside, Kandace toured the store to fan the flame of her new situation, new surroundings. She had to curb her feelings, knowing she could take with her a fine pearl necklace—very classic and grown-up—to go with her dress. She could still afford four hundred fifty dollars for freshwater pearls, right? The staff were quick to answer questions and facilitate closer examination. She felt honored—she had been ignored at jewelers near home. Her salesman liked Kandace’s Tissot watch and recognized the model. She never had anyone like a jeweler notice something of hers. April modeled a pair of hoop earrings in a small mirror. The hoops were perfect for April’s short blonde hair.

  While studying a beautiful necklace way out of her practical price range, Kandace’s phone came alive with a call, a fitting excuse to leave. With the phone to her ear as she walked out, April trailed to the sidewalk. They stopped in the shade of the building.

  It was Markus. “From this list, several possibles stand out. Paul Kuschel matches the tenant list and the database search under a ghost corp, Paradigm Global LLC. Which brings me to a new possible address.”

  “Ghost corp?”

  “It’s a dummy company. No earnings, no taxes, no products, no offices. You search a database and find names like Paul Kuschel, then cross check against taxes, utilities and find nothing. Presumed dead businesses… we cross check a name and a match… it’s winner winner.”

  “Okay, I don’t need to understand what you’re doing as long as you find my dad.”

  “I distinctly recall informing your highness that this job could take a month. Maybe longer. LA is huge.”

  Kandace’s shoulders drooped. “Don’t say that. I don’t have a month. I… can’t make
it that long.”

  “I have another address.”

  “Where’s Clayton, by the way? Has he moved on from Seattle?” Kandace asked.

  “Interesting that you should ask, because he’s coming your way all of a sudden.”

  “Wait. What do you mean he’s coming this way?”

  “Well, this could be a good sign, but he just bought a flight to LA from Seattle. Three minutes ago.”

  22

  “Markus!” Kandace screamed. “How is that a good thing?”

  “Easy. Think it through, would ya? Clayton is a professional. Government clearances. Connections. Access. If he’s coming to LA, it’s either a crazy coincidence or your dad is there. Door number two has my vote.”

  “Why do I get the feeling none of this bothers you at all? He’s hunting my dad.”

  “How else should I feel?”

  “Uh, terrified. Horrible. Just like me.”

  “I do, but I am powerless to change any of this. He’s coming, but you’ve got time.”

  “What time?”

  “Well, twenty minutes ago you texted your dad that you’re in LA looking for him. Then Clayton buys a ticket to LA ten minutes later. So… is he monitoring your phone? Or your dad’s? Maybe both.”

  Shit. I just led Clayton right to him.

  “I just want to find him safe,” Kandace said.

  “Call me when you arrive at the next address. I’ll keep working.”

  “Thanks, Markus.”

  “Hey, what are friends for?”

  April eyed Kandace. “So… shall we move on?”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’re suddenly short on time. We need to get to the next address. Like now.”

  “Do I want to know what’s really going on?”

  “The man after my dad is flying here.”

  “Oh. That’s why you’ve been in a rush to get here. Your dad is in some real trouble.”

  Kandace slid behind the wheel of the VW. “Yeah. And I’ve got to beat this guy to him.”

  They arrived at the house fifteen minutes later.

  It was a quiet neighborhood with houses on small lots, short fences, close together. Toys, bikes and basketball hoops scattered on the neighboring sidewalks and lawns. Mostly one-story homes with short driveways. A deep green front door. The backyard had a short fence that Kandace could peer over. No one around. The lawn had narrow tire tracks, the lingering fragrance of cut grass.

  The doorbell worked fine. No answer after a minute, so Kandace tried again. The front windows were mostly covered by curtains.

  She sent a text to Markus: No answer at the E 2nd Street house.

  Markus: come back later. That could be the house

  “I need a break,” she said. “I can’t handle me when I’m like this.”

  “Beach time,” April said. “Come back in an hour?”

  “Deal,” Kandace said.

  They dug out swimwear from their suitcases, then walked down Orange Avenue to the beach.

  “I hope no one minds the car,” Kandace said.

  “I wouldn’t worry. There’s tons of cars on the street. At least it’s free parking.”

  Kandace crossed the last of a hotel’s parking lot onto sand. “Whoa. That’s one big beach. Is the ocean always this loud?”

  “Yeah. It’s way better up close.”

  They carried their shoes on the sand, Kandace walking slow to let her toes sink into its warmth. Kandace felt as though she had been released, rejuvenated at the sensation of the warm, salty breeze, fine sand under her feet. The ocean tumbled and roared. Bikes, rollerbladers, and people walking dogs were common but not overwhelmingly so.

  She needed this mental break.

  She changed on the beach into her swimwear and ran for the water after April, not knowing what would happen next, but knowing she would always remember this day, this moment.

  Another first.

  The water was cold and forceful. Kandace startled at how powerful the waves were in shallow water. The spray hit her face and she got the intense saltiness in her mouth. She discovered how easily water pushed you back while trying to swim out away from the beach. April paddled out ahead for deeper waters and breaking waves. They had a blast until it was nearly dark.

  “We should have thought about towels,” Kandace said on the way in, the tide nipping at their feet.

  “Nah. Air dry. It’s greener that way!” April said and they laughed together. “The only thing I like better than your buns are your buns with sand all over them.”

  “I know you’re jealous. We can at least rinse off, right? There’s a place for that, I hope.”

  “Yeah. Right over there, to the left. There are showers we can use. We can find a place to get towels so we don’t get your new seats wet. I think there’s a gas station right by the car.”

  “I’m down with that. Gotta protect my new baby. And oh, help me name her.”

  “Chantal?”

  Kandace laughed. “What? That’s not a name for a car!”

  “Kisha?”

  “No.”

  “Gladis?”

  “Never mind. This was insanely fun and I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “The beach is hot. Just like that bikini you’re wearing.”

  “I feel naked.”

  “Eh, almost. I wonder how long those crystals stay intact. There’s just enough fabric to hold them.”

  “I can’t believe they put actual crystal in a bikini. Seems excessive to me.”

  “If you meant excessively sexy, then I agree,” April said.

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I meant,” Kandace said, turning the knob on a public shower. “How far away is the club?”

  “The Jungle? It’s downtown. About twenty-five minutes, sometimes forty-five to forever, depending on traffic.” April turned off her shower and wrung her hair out, combed out sand the best she could. “You thinking to go dance instead of checking again for your dad?”

  “I’m so torn. If dad’s not at the house when we get back, then what else can I do? I’ve gotta make money, especially sending money home for my mom. I need to pay off the car and I hate owing money.”

  “Smart girl. You’re thinking ahead.”

  “Yeah. I splurged with the car, the dress, the watch...”

  “Keep in mind taxes, probably six grand.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. I’m young and I need the money. I’m not rich,” Kandace said. She led the way back to the car. The house hadn’t changed. “You think anyone’s home?”

  “We should dry off and change. You don’t want to meet your dad in a thong, even if it has crystal.”

  Kandace laughed. “Talk about awkward.”

  “Walgreens is across the street. They’ll have towels and water. I’m dying here.”

  Kandace agreed and retrieved her purse from the car. They had fun picking out fluorescent beach towels, after-sun lotion, natural sunscreen and bottled water. She spent sixty-four dollars and felt a little shocked at how expensive things were. They dried themselves outside the car and changed back to their clothes.

  “You ready?” April said.

  “I’ll be fine. Let’s try the door again. Now or never.”

  Kandace walked the narrow pathway and hit the doorbell twice, temped to wipe her hands on her dress. Could she live with it, if her father had this home? The house seemed nice enough. Clean. Decent city street. All the homes were close together and had tension lines running this way and that—not all that different from Pittsburgh. So why did he live in California by the beach while they were left in Pitt?

  Stop thinking like that, Kandace. Be positive. Pleasant. Put on a nice face.

  She leaned a little closer to the door, but heard no sound from inside, no footfalls. She glanced at the window; the front curtains—tasteful while not overly traditional—remained still.

  Soft and purple light. It was just after six and Kandace felt a longing sense of wanting a lost day back—she figured to have found her father by now and the
lost time felt like a monumental robbery. She dabbed her eyes, pulling at the car door’s handle. Not even new car smell could improve her mood.

  Kandace whispered at the steering wheel, “This sucks.” Her lips shook. She wished she had just stayed on the beach, let the water take her in—at least her world made sense in the sea. She could have hung out with April and forgotten about family, about problems, about Pittsburgh, college tuition and the multitude of opinions from friends.

  “I’m with you. Got another address?”

  Kandace flopped her hands on the steering wheel. “Nothing yet. I only get my hopes higher and higher to be let down. And it’s like being told I’m not good enough, again and again.” She sat, watching the semi-quiet street they were parked on. Kids were coming down the sidewalk on bikes and Kandace wondered how their childhoods differed from her own. “Today was a blast and I wanted my dad to be the highlight of it.”

  “I’m with you. It’s pretty crappy that he can’t call you. Even if it’s just like hey, I’m working, talk later. At least that’s a response. You’re worth a reply.”

  “I can’t make Dad do what I want, just like Kyle.” She started the car. “Let’s go make money. If my dad doesn’t want me, then maybe someone else will.”

  “And they pay you,” April said, clicking her seatbelt in. “Let LA be rich and horny!”

  “It’s on,” Kandace said. She had to accelerate as though in a race, to blaring horns behind her. “Do all people out here drive like they want to die?”

  April scoffed. “Welcome to California, Small Town. Too many people, so everyone’s impatient.”

  “And the speed limit is?”

  “A suggestion.”

  Kandace loathed LA traffic for the forty-minute drive to The Jungle. The colorful sign stood tall and bright against a dark sky. Brightly lit palm trees accented a stone colored two-story building. The parking lot had few empty spaces.

  “Tell me they’ll have our missing blue friends,” Kandace said.

  “Oh, yes. Jeannette uses the same supplier as Teddy. I’ll get each of us a bottle. That way you’ve got your own, but leave them at the club. Trust me.”