Theo Knight was Jack’s best friend, bartender, therapist, confidant, and sometime investigator. He was also a former client, a onetime gangbanger who easily could have ended up dead on the streets of Overtown or Liberty City. Instead, he landed on death row for a murder he didn’t commit. Jack literally saved his life. With his civil settlement from the state, Theo went on to open his own tavern—Sparky’s he’d called it, a play on words and double-barreled flip of the bird to “Old Sparky,” the nickname for the electric chair he’d escaped. Sparky’s had done well enough to get him a second bar, and even a fishing boat. Theo was hosing down his gear in Jack’s backyard as Jack pulled into the driveway.
“Got six beautiful dolphin,” said Theo.
Jack enjoyed fishing, but it had been a very long time since he’d stayed out all night to bring home a half dozen fish. “Nice,” he said.
“You look like hell. Did Andie finally come to her senses and kick you out last night?”
“No. She went into the hospital.”
Theo dropped the hose, and Jack filled him in. They both needed coffee, so the conversation moved inside to the kitchen. Theo wasn’t much help on medical matters related to pregnancy. He was a pretty quick study, however, when it came to Debra Burgette.
“The woman sounds fucked up.”
Jack wasn’t entirely comfortable with the diagnosis. “She’s been through a lot.”
“She’s fucked up.”
“So, you think I shouldn’t get involved?”
“You should, if there’s a chance this Dylan Reeves ain’t guilty. Just know the bitch is crazy.”
“She isn’t crazy.”
“That’s what you said about your first wife.”
He had a point.
Theo poured himself more coffee. “Let me shower off the fish smell and we can go talk to her. I’ll tell you what I really think.”
“It’s pretty clear what you really think.”
“Maybe I’ll change my mind.”
“Maybe pigs will fly.”
“Maybe the sick son of a bitch who really made Sashi Burgette disappear has his eye on another teenage girl.”
Jack bristled. “That’s not funny.”
“Nothing funny about an innocent man on death row.”
Jack stared right back at him over the top of his coffee cup. For a moment, he was looking into the eyes of that teenage boy he’d met through the Freedom Institute, Florida’s youngest inmate on death row.
“All right,” said Jack. “You can shower in the guest room. Then we’ll go see Debra.”
They drove south against rush-hour traffic toward Cocoplum, one of south Florida’s tony waterfront communities.
It was a breezy ride through Coconut Grove until they reached Cartagena Circle, a busy roundabout that was the Coral Gables version of the vehicular insanity surrounding the Arc de Triomphe. Traffic entered from multiple directions, almost no one understood the right-of-way rules, and even the ones who did were too busy texting to avoid a collision. Fortunately, it wasn’t Saturday morning, when the Circle—the meeting place for hundreds of weekend joggers and cyclists—transformed into the world’s greatest concentration of bulging blobs of jelly who had absolutely no business wearing form-fitting clothing.
“Bear left,” said Theo.
“Where do you think we are, London?”
Jack followed the circle counterclockwise in the shadow of sprawling banyan trees, exiting at the twin royal palms that marked the gated entrance to the Cocoplum community. A security guard checked them in and let them pass. The Burgettes’ address was programmed into Jack’s GPS, which guided them past one Mediterranean-style mansion after another. Jack stopped when the mechanical voice said, “You have arrived.” It was a pink tri-level house with arched windows, a barrel tile roof, and a fountain in the front yard. A manicured hedge with purple cocoplum berries lined the horseshoe driveway, which was empty—no sign of Debra’s Mercedes. Jack parked on the street. He and Theo climbed the steps to the front door, rang the doorbell, and waited. No answer.
“Well, this was a waste of time,” said Jack.
“Wait. Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Inside. Screaming.”
“What—”
“Shhh. There it is again: ‘There’s a black man at the door, there’s a black man at the door!’”
“No comment,” said Jack as he started down the stairs. The Burgettes’ neighbor happened to be at the curb, picking up his morning newspaper, so Jack walked over and struck up a conversation. Theo followed.
“Excuse me. Is this the Burgette residence?”
The man stopped and looked Jack over. He looked Theo over, too—twice. “Who’s asking?”
Jack introduced himself, as well as Theo—“my assistant”—and handed the man a business card. He was a balding, overweight man who confirmed his middle age by holding Jack’s card as far away as possible to read it.
“Are you related to former governor Harry Swyteck?”
“He’s my father.”
He returned Jack’s card. “Never did like that guy. Sorry.”
“Well, that’s politics.”
“At least he didn’t sign your death warrant,” added Theo.
Jack left that one alone, focusing on the neighbor. “Debra Burgette asked me to take a fresh look into the disappearance of her daughter.”
He shook his head. “Poor woman. Yesterday she gave me a stack of ‘Find Sashi’ flyers to distribute. How long has it been now? Three years? Long time to be in denial.”
“Did you know Sashi?”
“Not really. The other girl—Aquinnah—I knew since she was born. Sashi came much later. Adopted. Pretty girl. Real pretty. But not an easy kid to get to know.”
“Because of the language barrier?”
“That’s what I thought it was at first. She and her little brother came from Russia.”
“Chechnya,” said Jack.
“Right. But, no, it wasn’t a language problem. Debra had those kids in private school, English-immersion classes, the whole bit. Alexander’s a nice kid. Really a good boy. But Sashi. She . . .”
“What?”
“She had a screw loose. I don’t know how else to say it.”
“How do you mean?” asked Jack.
“Well, if you followed any of the news coverage of Sashi’s disappearance, you would think it was the first time her parents had no idea where she was.”
“You’re saying that’s not the case?”
“Not even close. Sashi must have run away from home a half dozen times before disappearing for good. Maybe more.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” said Jack.
“Oh, yeah. There was a stretch when Debra and Gavin were knocking on my door every other week, asking if I’d seen Sashi. They had a real problem on their hands.”
“It sounds like it.”
“Yeah. Sad situation. Anyway, I have to get to work. Nice talking with you fellas. Good luck with whatever it is that Debra wants from you.” He turned and walked away.
Jack and Theo started toward their car.
“That was interesting,” said Theo.
“Yeah. Also interesting that I read the entire transcript of Dylan Reeves’ trial. I didn’t see a single mention of any of those other times Sashi ran away from home.”
“Maybe the judge kept it out.”
“And normally I would agree with that. It smacks of victim assassination. But this is a murder case, and the body was never recovered.”
“What difference does that make?”
“The prosecution has to prove that a homicide was committed. A jury might not jump to the conclusion that Sashi is actually dead if they know she ran away from home a half dozen times before.”
“So you’re saying Sashi might be alive.”
“I’m saying . . .”
Theo finished the thought for him. “Maybe what crazy Debra is saying isn’t so crazy. That’s what you’re s
aying.”
Jack considered it. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess I am.”
CHAPTER 8
Breakfast was by far the best thing about her motel, but Debra wasn’t hungry.
“Just coffee,” she told the waitress. She was alone in a booth. A tall, cylinder-shaped pie display spun round and round behind her.
“The buffet looks awfully good today,” the waitress said as she filled Debra’s cup.
Debra didn’t doubt it. Virtually every customer in the restaurant was in line at the omelet station.
“Coffee is all I need, thank you.”
The waitress wrote up the check and tossed it on the table. “No rush, sweetie. Whenever you’re ready.”
It had been a lonely night at the Find Sashi command center. The high point had been Jack’s visit. Aquinnah stayed for a couple of hours, but she turned out to be part of an ambush. Debra’s two closest girlfriends had shown up, and, together with Aquinnah, the threesome mounted an “intervention” of sorts. It wasn’t anything Debra hadn’t heard before. More talk about “closure” and the need for Debra to find it. As if it were any other woman’s business.
Debra glanced across the restaurant. Aquinnah was haggling with the motel manager. She was trying to get a refund of Debra’s deposit on the ballroom. Debra had reserved it for two weeks. Debra could only imagine what, in the name of negotiating strategy, Aquinnah was saying to the manager about her “poor mother.”
Hopefully, it was kinder than the words she had screamed at Debra on her way out of the ballroom last night.
“Warm up your cup for you there, sweetie?” asked the waitress.
“Yes, thank you.”
The waitress finished the pour and stepped away. Debra stared down into her cup. She couldn’t be too angry at Aquinnah. For nearly thirteen years, her life had been perfect. An only child. Mommy’s best girlfriend. Daddy’s princess.
And then everything changed.
The patter of Aquinnah’s bare feet filled the master bedroom, and Debra was suddenly wide awake. Aquinnah jumped into the bed and tucked herself beneath the covers at her mother’s side. Her tiny voice shook, and she sounded much younger than a girl who was just two weeks shy of becoming a teenager.
“Mommy, I’m scared.”
Debra pulled her close. It was like old times, when Aquinnah would stay up to watch an age-inappropriate movie that would keep her eyes open all night.
“What’s wrong, baby? Did you have a bad dream?”
Gavin grumbled, half-asleep. Then he rolled over to the far edge of the king-size mattress.
“No,” said Aquinnah, trying to whisper, but she was too shaken to keep her voice low. “It’s Sashi. She scares me, Mommy.”
“Oh, honey. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“For you there isn’t. You get to sleep in here next to Daddy. I’m at the other end of the hall. You say we have separate rooms, but we really don’t. She can walk right through the bathroom and get into mine.”
Debra had put Sashi in one of the adjoining bedrooms of the “Jack and Jill” suite. “Sashi is not going to come in your room, Aquinnah.”
“Yeah, she does. She waits till she thinks I’m asleep. Then she opens the door a little crack, and she looks at me.”
“Aquinnah, you are imagining things.”
“I’m not making this up, Mommy!”
Gavin grumbled again, then propped up on his elbow. “I have to be at the airport in four hours. Can I get some peace and quiet, please?”
“Sorry, Gavin,” said Debra, and then she gave her daughter the shush sign.
Aquinnah lowered her voice, but it was filled with no less urgency. “Have you seen what Sashi does when she comes into a room? Her eyes are so weird, Mommy. It’s like . . . like a cat.”
“She’s getting used to us,” said Debra. “This is all new to her.”
“And she walks around naked. She won’t wear the pajamas you bought her.”
“When her English gets better she can tell us what she likes.”
“Just because she doesn’t like them doesn’t mean she has to rip them to pieces.”
“She didn’t rip them up.”
“Yes, she did, Mommy! And no offense, but she smells bad.”
“Be nice, Aquinnah. Sashi isn’t used to bathing every day. We’ll fix that.”
Gavin was awake again. “That’s it. Aquinnah, get back to your room.”
“No, no, no, please, Daddy. Let me stay, please, please. I’ll be quiet. I won’t make another sound.”
Gavin fell back onto his pillow. “All right. But that’s it: no more warnings.”
Aquinnah nuzzled against her mother. Debra put her arm around her and kept her close. The bedroom fell quiet. The air-conditioning cycled on, then off. Aquinnah was sound asleep. Gavin was snoring. Debra was wide awake.
Then she heard a noise from somewhere outside the bedroom—a thud of some sort.
“Gavin, what was that?”
He kept snoring. Debra heard it again. The noise was from downstairs. The kitchen?
Debra pried herself away from Aquinnah carefully, so as not to wake her, then slid out of bed and started carefully across the room in the darkness. The door creaked as she opened it, and she winced, fearful that she had woken Gavin. He didn’t stir. She took her robe from the wall hook, slipped it on, and stepped into the hallway. Her bare feet glided across the carpet to the stairwell, which was bathed in the yellowish glow of a night-light. She walked softly down the stairs and stopped in the foyer. She definitely heard something again—more of a rustling than a thud this time, and it was definitely coming from the kitchen.
She started down the hallway and stopped. The noise was from the pantry. She crossed the kitchen, stopped at the open pantry door, and switched on the light.
Sashi gasped, but she said nothing. Debra didn’t mean to stare, but she was so confused by what she saw that she couldn’t help it. Sashi was completely naked. She was holding a pillowcase. It appeared to be stuffed with food.
Debra’s heart sank. “Oh, honey. No. You don’t have to do that here. You don’t have to steal food. Come here, please.”
She removed her robe and offered it to her, but Sashi didn’t move. Debra stepped toward her and wanted to wrap the girl in her arms, which drew an immediate reaction.
“Noooo!” screamed Sashi. She pushed Debra away, hitting her squarely in the chest with both hands, and then ran right past her. It wasn’t a little push. It knocked Debra backward and off her feet. She took down an entire shelf of canned goods and other nonperishables as she fell to the floor. She landed on her hip, but managed not to bang her head. She lay there for a moment to get her bearings and make sure she was okay. Her hip bone throbbed as she pushed herself up from the floor.
She took a breath and started to back away from the broken shelf and the mess all over the floor. Then she noticed the stuffed pillowcase that Sashi had left behind. Debra picked it up and looked inside. Several cans of soup. A pack of crackers. A half loaf of bread. And something that sparkled, which made her reach for it.
My earring.
It was half of a pair of tricolor gold earrings that she wore almost every day and kept in a jewelry dish in her bedroom. It had been missing for a week. Debra had thought she’d lost it.
She switched off the kitchen light and walked back to the stairway, taking the stuffed pillowcase and the earring with her. The climb up the stairs took longer than usual, and she knew that her hip was going to be killing her in the morning. She finally reached the top of the stairwell, but rather than go to the master, she went in the opposite direction, toward the Jack and Jill bedrooms. Sashi’s door was closed. Debra stood outside it for a moment, but she didn’t knock. She took the earring from her robe and put it back in the pillowcase with the food that Sashi had stolen.
She laid it on the floor outside Sashi’s door.
“Good night, Sashi,” she whispered. Then she turned and walked to the other end of
the hallway, quietly entered the master bedroom, and climbed back into bed.
Okay, it’s all settled,” said Aquinnah, rousing Debra from her memories. She looked up from her cup and at her daughter on the other side of the table.
“What’s all settled?” asked Debra.
“The refund. The motel is going to charge you only for one night, as long as we have everything out of the ballroom before noon today.”
“Your father always said you should be studying business, not premed. Maybe he’s right.”
“Mom, do you have to turn everything I do into a question of whether you’re right or Dad’s right? A simple thank-you would be nice. I just saved you a two-week rental for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing.”
Aquinnah took a breath, then let it out. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not for nothing. And I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”
Debra looked up from her cup. Aquinnah had delivered some pretty “tough love” the night before in the ballroom, but her morning-after apology seemed sincere.
“Apology accepted.”
“But your friends are right. It’s time to let go.”
Aquinnah’s words hung in the air. The tag-team trio—Aquinnah and Debra’s two girlfriends—had covered this ground and re-covered it several times in the Find Sashi command center. The fact that Aquinnah would circle back and replow old ground, after an apology, made Debra’s blood boil all over again. “They say it’s time, do they?”
“Everybody does, Mom. Because it is.”
Debra bit down on her lower lip. It was all she could do to avoid another shouting match like the one in the ballroom.
“Listen to me, Aquinnah. I will tell you when it’s time for me to let it go,” she said, rising.
Aquinnah looked right back at her from the other side of the booth, and their eyes locked.
“It is time,” said Debra, “when I say it’s time. When I say it.”
Gone Again Page 4