Back to Blue Page 16

  “You’re positive it’s the same book?”

  “Yes. See?” She pointed to the last paragraph on the page. “Here’s where he’s essentially saying the perp drove the hour it takes to get here from Atlanta to snatch the girl. What kind of sense does that make? What? There were no white girls in Atlanta at the time?” Summer looked up in disgust and—

  she wasn’t in the bookstore. Wasn’t standing next to Renny. She was sitting at a table with a dusty, what-used-to-be white tablecloth, listening to a girl’s screams and a puppy’s howls.

  “Damnit!” He hurled an empty beer can, clipping the puppy in the head. “Shut the hell up. Should have thrown you out the truck when I had the chance.” He pushed back from the table, stood and wobbled before grabbing hold of the back of the chair. Damn girls always cried the first night. He’d give her that, then he’d teach her how to behave. He only hoped she learned faster than the last one.

  He slowly made his way across the room, crowded with bits of old furniture, kicking aside empty beer cans when he needed to. Outside the girl’s room he paused briefly and walked on without opening the locked door. He was tired. Too tired to deal with her tonight. But tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d start training her…

  The pounding in her head was the first thing Summer noticed. The comfort of Renny’s hand on her shoulder was the second. “He still has her and she’s not his first. Oh God, Renny. She’s not his first.”

  “Did you see him?” Renny gripped her arms.

  She shook her head and immediately regretted it. “Wherever he lives is cluttered with furniture and Busch beer cans. He was sitting at a table that had a fake flower arrangement in the center. There was a dark wood china cabinet with chipped dishes. A stack of papers about knee high, no, two stacks to the right of the table. And none of this helps Georgia.” She sighed. “They could be anywhere. Miles from here.”

  Renny rubbed her back. “It’s more than we had before.”

  “He’s going to start ‘training’ her tomorrow. Which could be today or yesterday or the day before. Oh, God.” Summer dropped the book and covered her face with her hands. “She’s not a girl anymore. He’s probably already raped her and they won’t listen to me. What can I do to make them listen to me?” She leaned into Renny, felt arms enfold her and gave in to the tears burning her eyes.

  “Oh, Summer. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t take on the blame for other people’s actions.” Tears welled in Renny’s eyes. “I’m so sorry I asked you to do this. It’s too much.”

  Summer took a shuddering breath. “Not your fault. It had to be done.” She nestled her face in the crook of Renny’s neck. “Thanks for being here. It’s easier to take with you here.”

  “Where else would I be? You ready to go?”

  “Yeah.” She wiped her face, exhaled and dared to scan the store. As expected, she and Renny seemed to be the sole focus of attention. “I’ve embarrassed us enough.”

  “This is nothing.” Renny dug around in her backpack, then handed Summer a tissue and removed one for herself. “Compared to some of the stunts I’ve pulled this isn’t even a blip. The trick is to walk out with your head held high.” She demonstrated, drawing a watery smile from Summer. They walked out of the bookstore, heads held high.

  Summer’s phone buzzed as soon as they hit the sidewalk. It was Dani. “Summer.”

  “How you holding up?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “I bet. Carla’s looking for you.”

  “Carla wants to talk to me? Why?”

  “Apparently your name came up at the station house. Carla got volunteered to feel you out, see what you might know.”

  “Why bother? They won’t believe a word I say.”

  “She doesn’t have much choice. This came from higher up.”

  “Great. Now she’ll have resentment to add to disdain.”

  “Believe me, she’ll do a better job of hiding it. So, can I give her your number?”

  Reciting the multiplication table was so easy and Summer was up to five times five before she caught herself. “Would it just be Carla?”

  “In the room. There could be others observing.”

  “It’d be like an interrogation?” Panic bit at her throat as her earlier fears returned. “I…” She looked at Renny, seeking comfort. Seeking reassurance.

  Renny held out a hand for the phone. “This is Renny. What’s this about seeing Carla?”

  “The deputy chief got wind that Summer might have some info pertinent to the abduction. To say he wasn’t very happy to hear Detective Kohner’s report on his meeting with Summer is a big understatement. The department’s feeling some pressure. They don’t have a lead, the press has gotten word that there may be two earlier abductions linked to this latest one, so they need something. Plus the GBI, that’s the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, is threatening to come take a look. Could be a big mess.”

  “And what? Summer’s supposed to ride in on her white horse and save their sorry asses? She’s done that twice and got shot down both times.”

  Dani snorted. “It’s not that bad. The deputy chief is a good guy. I can vouch for him.”

  “If she agrees to this, they’re not talking to her without me,” Renny said firmly. “That’s nonnegotiable. And we walk at the first snide remark.”

  “I don’t have the authority to negotiate, but I’d be willing to give Vincent a call. Let him know the terms and let him be the one to get the word to Carla.”

  “And I assume this Vincent is the deputy chief?”

  “That would be Vincent Chapman and, like I said, he’s a good guy.”

  “Summer and I’ll talk it over and get back with you.”

  “It’d be good if it could happen tonight.”

  “Don’t push.” Renny ended the call and returned the phone to Summer. “And that was totally heavy-handed. I’m sorry I completely took over. That was rude.”

  Summer slid the phone into her coat pocket. “That was more saving me than rude. I froze. I don’t think I could have forced a word out of my mouth.” She bumped Renny’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming in on your white horse. That’s the third time today.”

  “A record,” Renny said and smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and a salad’s not going to cut it.”

  “There’s this place, Mac’s. It’s not that far and they have good burgers.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Promise you won’t let me eat all the fries. They go straight to my butt.”

  Summer thought that was a good thing. She resisted the urge to look at said butt. “I can do that, and if you’ll be there, I think I can talk to Carla too.”

  “It’s entirely up to you,” Renny said, pushing the Walk button. “If it was me, I’d do it. Maybe insist this Vincent guy is there. It’s a chance to get in a dig at Carla. I image she’s steamed at being commanded to talk to you.”

  “That sounds like a good reason not to talk to her.” The Walk signal turned green and they crossed the six lanes of traffic.

  “You’re looking at this the wrong way. This is your chance to say whatever you want to say and she has to listen. Most importantly she has to do it without sneering. I, for one, would enjoy that.”

  Summer slowed down, pursed her lips in thought. “You may have something.” She pulled open the door to Mac’s and the smell of burgers ramped up her appetite. “Can I use my mean face?”

  “Meat,” Renny moaned. “This smells heavenly. Pardon my drool.”

  Summer smiled. Whatever happened with the police would happen. And maybe that was okay. “Still want me to police your fries?”

  “Why don’t we forget about police and abductors for now? I feel I need to focus my thoughts on burgers.”

  “Agreed.” She nodded when the hostess asked if there were two for dinner. The restaurant wasn’t as busy as it had been at lunchtime, so they were shown to a booth.

  The hostess placed a menu in front of them, saying, “Your server will be with you
shortly.”

  “Any chance you want to share spinach artichoke dip?” Renny asked.

  “I’m game.”

  “Hello, ladies. My name’s Mark. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get you to drink?” Mark was barely over five feet and that was with some heel on his boots. His hair was bleached blond and worn in a mullet.

  Summer wondered if his neon green shirt was worn for safety reasons. “I’ll have a Coke.”

  “Diet Coke for me,” Renny said. “And we’ll start with the spinach artichoke dip.”

  He smiled, showing white teeth. “Fabulous choice. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  “Should we tell him the eighties called and wants its hairstyle back?” Renny joked. “You don’t see that every day, and I for one am grateful.”

  “What’s wrong with his hair?”

  “It only went out of style when we were children. Some things are not meant to be repeated. Mullets fit firmly in that category. And big, puffy hair. Take my word on this.” Renny closed her menu. “It occurs to me we’ve never talked about what you do. I know you and Keile work in the same building, but that’s it.”

  “I’m a gofer more than anything. My boss is good friends with my dad, so when I decided it was time to get back to the real world, he offered me a job. Entry level to match my skill set.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “Started out filing under a supervisor who hated my guts from Day One. We’ll call her M&M to protect the guilty.”

  “Seems kind of harsh to name her after the candy. For the candy that is.”

  “She’s the anti-M&M. Bitter. She has issues, but if Kevin’s willing to overlook them, so am I. Besides, I don’t work under her anymore. Not sure if she’s relieved or upset about that.” Summer smiled. “I’m hoping upset. Now I review reports and presentations, make comments on the graphics. Hoping to prod my dormant artistic skills.”

  Mark returned with their drinks. “The dip should be out shortly. You ready to order?” He took their orders, then hurried to a summons at a nearby table.

  “What’s this about artistic talent?” Renny took a sip of her soda.

  “I used to paint. Mostly portraits. Lost the ability when my brain was wiped clean,” she added the information matter-of- factly and was proud of it.

  “Confession time. I know very little about art.”

  “That makes two of us.” Summer removed her straw from its wrapper and dunked it in her drink. “I don’t think I’m an art snob. Hope I never was. Speaking of artistic talent, tell me about your book. How’s it coming?”

  “Great. I should be finished with the first draft in a couple of weeks.”

  “I hope I haven’t been keeping you from it with all of this? I didn’t think.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Renny waved a hand. “I had plenty of time to write today. Plenty of words leaping from my brain so fast I had to struggle to type fast enough to keep up.”

  “Is that usual for you?”

  “Not like this. I usually have a couple of days where it flows smoothly, but more days where I poke and prod along. Maybe get through a scene, then step back to figure out where to go next. Not this puppy. It’s been off the leash. I think I needed to write about it. The abuse, the partying, all to cover the feelings of failure. I see it so clearly now. Like writing it out helps put it away. I’ll always be an addict. No getting around that.”

  “Aren’t you afraid readers will see the main character as you?”

  Renny shrugged. “I can live with the comparisons that are sure to be made.”

  “Then I can’t wait to read the book and come up with some comparisons of my own.”

  “Cheers.” Renny lifted her glass and tapped it against Summer’s. “Another reason the interruption doesn’t bother me is that I get the pleasure of enjoying your company.”

  Summer’s cheeks warmed with her own pleasure. “Is your agent still giving you grief?”

  “Not after I told her she’d have something solid to look at in a month. She won’t say, but I’d bet she’s accepted I need to spread my literary wings. And my past success should catch me if I stumble.”

  “Does that…?” She chewed on her lip, wondering if she was asking too much.

  “Go on,” Renny prompted. “I don’t mind answering questions. At least not your questions.”

  “Are you…afraid you’ll stumble?”

  “I feel that way every time I start a new project. People can be fickle. I always wonder what will happen if they don’t like it. What will I do with my life? That’s my version of the tortured soul creative people are supposed to have. Is fear of stumbling holding you back?”

  “Maybe a little. Last week I saw this little boy. Redhead with freckles for days and I wished so badly for pencil and paper.” She rubbed her fingertips. “Haven’t had the urge since. Later I did try to draw his face. Didn’t work. I didn’t feel it inside. So I guess that’s my version of the tortured soul. My shrink thinks I’ll get the urge back, but I wonder if it’s possible anymore.”

  “I’m sorry you lost so much.” Renny shook her head when Mark delivered the dip and asked if they needed anything else. She scooped out some dip and put it on a little plate. “‘Sorry’ has to be the sorriest word in the dictionary. You’d think by now someone would have come up with a better word because ‘sorry’ doesn’t really cut it. Not in this situation. Not when you’ve lost something so vital.”

  Summer nibbled on a tortilla chip. “Appreciate the sentiment. But you know about starting over, right? I mean, after the rehab. That seems like it’s a start-over to me.”

  “Only if you do it right. The first time I did it the wrong way. Did the same things I’d done before, and so, of course, I ended right back where I started.”

  “Why, uh, how did you start on drugs?”

  “It started after the show began to lose viewers. Once the ratings fall, you know cancellation is around the corner. And it was. Then I hit puberty hard. Bad acne, weight gain, you name it, I had it. Couldn’t buy a role. Or rather, my mother couldn’t buy me a role. After a couple of years of frustration, I went wild.” Renny played with the condensation on her glass. “First it was drinking, then drugs, then sex. I’m lucky in that regard. I had sex with boys, girls, strangers and all without thought of protecting myself or them.” She shrugged. “That’s what happens when you’re high. You don’t think, you don’t care, you’re invincible. And deep down I got off on the fact that the negative press really pissed Eve off. I went into rehab the first time because she made me. Threatened to withhold the funds.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Just shy of eighteen. When I got out, I was clean for probably eight months. Then I learned to hide it better. I wasn’t as wild, wasn’t as public. Fooling Eve was such a rush it took me a few years to realize the only person I was fooling was myself. One day I wake up and I have no idea where I am, I mean none, how I got there or who the naked bodies surrounding me are. Scared me shitless, so I checked myself into rehab and with a lot of work, it took.”

  “Is that when you moved here?”

  “That was five years ago. I stayed in LA because I felt like I had something to prove to all of those who’d written me off as a loser. I had to be clean and productive where the paparazzi could take note. Dumb. I should have come here sooner. Stayed with my grandmother and taken advantage of the opportunity to really get to know her. Or stayed with my father in Atlanta. He wanted me to come live with him after the first rehab stint. I didn’t go because I was afraid he’d compare me with DeAmber. She’s my half-sister and from all he’d told me, she was the perfect daughter.”

  “Look at the Borg. Perfection’s overrated.”

  “Star Trek? You a fan?”

  “My dad is. He’s a sci-fi nut and, like I told you, we’ve watched a lot of movies together.”

  “That’s right. His way of helping you after the coma.”

  “You remember that, huh?” Su
mmer smiled, grabbed another chip.

  “I remember everything you’ve told me,” Renny said, her tone serious. “I hope I have the chance to learn more.”

  Summer felt her cheeks heat up and had to look away from the intensity of Renny’s gaze, suddenly shy. “Well, yeah. Oh good. Here comes our food.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Summer looked up too late to avoid a collision with Rich. She was trying to enter the elevator and he was trying to leave. They held onto each other a brief moment, absorbing the shock. “Sorry,” she said and took a step back. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “My fault.” Rich stepped back and punched the button to hold the door open. “I’m not getting off here. Got on a damn up elevator by mistake.”

  Against her better judgment, Summer entered. She saw the button for the lobby was lit and moved to the opposite corner, away from any possible contact with Rich. As pissed off as she was from another confrontation with Marcia, she was afraid of hopping into his head again.

  “You getting out of here early?” Rich said.

  “Outside appointment.” She switched her bag to her other hand, wondering why the elevator was going so slow. They should have been to the ground floor by now.

  “I got fired,” Rich announced, seeming to need to tell someone. “Fucking unfair. I do the damn job better than anyone there. Should have been a manager by now. Bastards.”

  “Uh, sorry.” She was tempted to press the lobby button again, but that would mean getting closer to Rich and the anger shimmering around him.

  “Me too. Sorry I wasted my time with that lame-ass company. I can do better,” he boasted, looking at Summer. “Go someplace better where they’ll recognize my talent for what it is. My supervisor will be the sorry one when she realizes how much she needs me. Fucking bitch!”

  “I’m sure she will,” she said, placating him in hopes he’d lower his voice and unclench his fingers. In hopes he’d get himself under control because Lord knew she didn’t have any extra to give. Not when she was on her way to get grilled by the police. Possible third strike.