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As Liza leaned over and swished a hand in the bathwater, Violet opened the door and stuck her head in, holding Baby in her arms. The dog yapped at them, bright-eyed and happy in a braggy sort of way. Violet said, “Hey, Lies, I’m off. See you kids later.”
Violet liked to call her “Lies,” a shortened form of “Liza” but spelled differently, or at least as Liza pictured it.
Daisy tilted her face up, puckering her lips. “Kiss!”
Violet said, “Kiss, kiss from here, Honeybunch. This lipstick’s fresh and Mama doesn’t want it messed up. You be good now and do everything Liza says.”
Violet blew Daisy a kiss. Daisy pretended to catch it and then blew it back, her eyes shining at the sight of her mother, who was looking radiant. Liza waved, and as the door closed, a waft of violet cologne entered the room on a wisp of chill air.
2
The puzzle of Violet Sullivan was dumped in my lap via a phone call from a woman named Ta
The minute I heard Ta
Finally, she said, “Listen, why I called is I’m wondering if you’d sit down and have a chat with a friend of mine.”
“Sure. No problem. About what?”
“Her mother. You remember Violet Sullivan?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Come on. Sure you do. Serena Station, north county? She disappeared years ago.”
“Oh, right. Gotcha. I forgot about her. That was in the ‘40s, wasn’t it?”
“Not that far back. Fourth of July, 1953.”
When I was three, I thought. This was September 1987. I’d turned thirty-seven in May and I noticed I was starting to keep track of events in terms of my age. Dimly I dredged up a fragment of information. “Why am I thinking there’s a car involved?”
“Because her husband had just bought her a Chevrolet Bel Air and that disappeared, too. Great car-a five-passenger coupe. I saw one just like it at the car show last year.” I could hear Ta
“Happens every day.”
“Don’t I know it. You ought to hear the stories I get told, people crying in their beer. Tending bar has really warped my point of view. Anyway, lot of people are convinced Violet’s husband did her in, but there’s never been a shred of proof. No body, no car, no evidence either way, so who knows?”
“What’s this have to do with the daughter?”
“Daisy Sullivan’s an old friend. She’s here on vacation, hanging out with me for a couple of days. I grew up in north county, so we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was two years behind me from grade school all the way through high school. She’s an only child, and I’m telling you this business with her mother has messed her up bad.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, she drinks too much, and when she drinks she flirts and when she flirts she gloms on to the nearest loser. She has terrible taste in men…”
“Hey, half the women I know have bad taste in men.”
“Yeah, well, hers is worse. She’s always looking for ‘true love,’ but she doesn’t have any idea what that’s about. Not that I do, but at least I don’t marry the bums. She’s been divorced four times and she’s sitting on a ton of rage. I’m the only friend she has.”
“What’s she do for a living?”
“Medical transcription. Sits in a cubicle all day long with a headset, typing up all this crap dictated by the docs for their medical charts. She’s not unhappy, but she’s begi
“Sounds like this has been going on for years. How old is she?”
“Well, I’ll be forty-three this month, so Daisy must be forty, forty-one… somewhere in there. I can hardly keep track of my birthday, let alone hers. I know she was seven when her mother bugged out.”
“What about her father? Where’s he at this point?”
“He’s still around, but his life’s been hell. Nobody wants to have anything to do with him. He’s been shu
“Isn’t it a little late in the game?”
“I thought you liked challenges.”
“After thirty-four years? You gotta be kidding.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad. Okay, so maybe a few years have gone by, but look at it this way: the killer might be ready to bare his immortal soul.”
“Why don’t you talk to Dolan? He knows a lot of north county cops. Maybe he can help, at least steer you in the right direction.”
“Nah, no deal. I already talked to him. He and Stace are taking off on a three-week fishing trip, so he told me to call you. He says you’re a terrier when it comes to stuff like this.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but I can’t track down a woman who’s been gone thirty-four years. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You could read the articles in the newspaper at the time.”
“That goes without saying, but Daisy’s capable, I’m sure. Send her to the library periodicals room-”
“She already has all that stuff. She said she’d be happy to give you the file.”
“Ta
“I’m not comfortable with that. I mean, it’d take me forever just to fill them in. At least you’ve heard about Violet Sullivan. That’s more than most.”
“I’ve heard about Jimmy Hoffa, too, but that doesn’t mean I’d go out and start looking for him.”
“All I’m asking you to do is talk to her-”
“There’s no point in talking-”
“Tell you what,” she cut in. “Come on over to Sneaky Pete’s and I’ll make you a sandwich. Gratis, on me, completely free of charge. You don’t have to do a thing except listen to her.”
I’d already zoned out, distracted by the promise of free food. The sandwich she referred to was the Sneaky Pete house specialty, which Dolan claimed was the only thing worth ordering-spicy salami on a kaiser roll with melted pepper Jack cheese. Ta
“How about right now? My apartment’s only half a block away. Daisy can walk over from there quicker than you can drive.”