No Witness But the Moon(54)



“Where’s your car?” Vega asked the girl.

“In the same lot as Joy’s.”

“Hop in. I’ll drive you over and we can talk.”

The girl squeezed into the back seat of Vega’s truck and removed her pom-pom hat. A crackle of static filled the air.

“Katie’s from Wickford,” said Joy.

“Mmm.” Vega had no idea if this was small talk or significant. With teenage girls, you never could tell.

“Her folks live on Rose Lane. Off Perkins Road.”

“Huh.” That was right around the corner from Ricardo Luis. Vega’s palms began to sweat just thinking about those dark woods. That full moon. He willed himself to listen and not float off into his own loop of fears.

“Dad? If Katie tells you something, does it have to get reported to the police?”

“Depends.” Vega caught Katie’s eye in the rearview mirror. He needed to engage her directly. “I’ll do my best to shield you from any embarrassment. But I have to work within the law.”

“I’m like, more worried about my parents than the law,” said the girl. She pulled a brush and compact mirror out of her messenger bag and began combing her long blond hair, no doubt getting it all over Vega’s back seat. He often wondered why women considered it perfectly reasonable to fix themselves up in public. What would they say if he brought out his shaving kit right now?

Vega pulled into the student parking lot. On the far end sat a tow truck with flashing lights. A man who looked like Santa Claus in coveralls was securing Joy’s Volvo in preparation for the tow.

“Hold your thought,” said Vega. He kept his pickup running and the heater on for the girls as he hopped out. He didn’t want this guy taking Joy’s Volvo anywhere until he was sure what it would cost. Wendy had been helping Joy with the cost of maintenance and repairs but Vega suspected she’d argue that Vega was the cause of this situation and therefore he should pay. It was in his best interests to negotiate the price at the outset.

The price, it turned out, was non-negotiable. Santa Claus simply showed Vega his rates. Ninety-five dollars for a hookup and $5 per mile to Wendy’s mechanic in Lake Holly ten miles away. Vega figured he was going to pay now or pay later, so he put the $145 on his credit card and walked back to his own truck to warm up.

“Thanks, Dad,” said Joy.

“No problem.” His social life was going to consist of Chinese takeout by himself in front of the TV for a long time to come so he probably wouldn’t feel the pinch too badly anyway. Then again, he hadn’t factored in the cost of four new tires yet.

He turned to meet Katie’s eyes in back. “So you live with your parents in Wickford?”

The girl nodded. Vega was right about her family having bread.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Last night?” said Katie. “I was with my boyfriend?”

Vega suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. She had that annoying habit of turning statements into questions. “Go on.”

“He, um . . . We like to um . . . He has a friend we scored some weed from.”

Vega shot a sharp glance at Joy. This girl was her friend? First the tattoo and all that talk about not wanting to become a doctor anymore? And now potheads for friends?

Joy flared her nostrils at him. For the moment anyway, Vega had to keep his feelings in check.

“My boyfriend’s friend met us near the woods on Stillman Lane,” Katie continued. “That’s like, right around the corner from Perkins Road? He delivers pizza.”

Talk about leveraging your business interests.

“So he like, dropped some stash off on his way to a delivery. Me and my boyfriend—we were just about ready to turn back to my house—when we saw this Hispanic-looking dude run out of the woods. Like somebody was chasing him.”

“Was this before or after the gunshots?”

“We didn’t hear any shots,” said Katie. “The car windows were closed and we had our music turned up.”

“Do you remember what time you saw this man?”

“Around six-thirty?”

Vega frowned. “Are you sure about that?” He couldn’t believe he was asking a stoner if she was sure about anything. But he needed to pin her down since the shooting occurred right around six-thirty.

“Pretty sure,” said Katie. “We were watching the clock on account of, my boyfriend had to get me back home and pick up his mom from her personal trainer at seven. Her Mercedes was in the shop. She’d have grounded him if he were late.”

Vega wondered if Mom knew that while she was flexing her abs her son was smoking blunts. And then driving afterward.

“This man,” asked Vega. “Where did he go after he ran out of the woods?”

“He ran a little on Stillman Lane.”

“Toward Perkins Road? Away from it?”

“Away. He cut through one of the lawns and just sort of disappeared.”

“Did you see him get into a vehicle?”

“Nu-uh. Maybe it was parked somewhere else, but I didn’t see one. Then like, right after that, we drove off and saw all these flashing lights over on Perkins Road. My boyfriend thought the cops were coming for him.” Katie looked at Vega with pleading blue eyes. “I’m not going to get anyone in trouble, am I?”

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