The Night Before(19)

Gabe had read her mind.

Rosie stopped talking and looked at the massive complex lining the water. “I’ve only been to the park. Mason doesn’t have the patience to sit at a restaurant.”

Gabe pointed to a street off to their right.

“We’ve been down here. Melissa and I. Young crowd—younger than we are. Except for the divorced men. They come here to shop at these places—like kids in a candy store. They’re all pretty much on one block. There—two streets down.”

Gabe started walking. “We should get started.”

They went to three places before getting a lead. It was at a bar that served food, very bad bar food—but enough to keep people from leaving when they got drunk and hungry. The atmosphere was dark and it smelled of stale beer. They spoke to the bartender, who had just opened up.

He glanced at the photos, reluctantly at first, until Rosie told him that her sister was missing. His eyes focused harder then, returning to each photo to study the men.

Then a smile came and left in an instant.

“Yup,” he said, pointing at one of the men. “This guy—he’s a regular.”

The photo was attached to the screen name here4you.

“Why did you smile when you saw him? What’s funny about it?” Gabe asked.

The bartender paused, glancing at Rosie, then looking away as though he didn’t want to see her expression change when he answered the question. Instead he looked only at Gabe.

“This guy … comes in during the week. One, maybe two times. Never on the weekend. Thursdays are his favorite.”

“So he was here last night?” Rosie asked. She looked at Gabe, wide-eyed, then back to the bartender.

“Every Thursday.”

Rosie frantically pulled out her phone and found a photo of Laura. She was in their backyard pushing Mason on the swing.

“Was he with this woman? Do you recognize her?”

The bartender leaned in close to see the picture, then shook his head. “I don’t know.… There are so many people who come and go every night. Maybe.”

Gabe was suddenly frustrated, standing taller with both hands on the bar. “How are you sure you saw this guy, then? If there are so many people coming and going?”

The bartender leaned back defensively. “I know the guy because he’s a regular. Sits in the back corner. Gets the drinks at the bar. Pays cash. Leaves a shitty tip.”

“Does he ever come in with a woman? A date?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah—that’s what I’m saying. Comes on the weekdays. Usually with a different woman.”

“A different woman each time?” Rosie asked.

The bartender nodded. “Yeah. All different ages, races, thin, not so thin, short hair, long hair. He doesn’t have a type. Doesn’t seem too picky, either.”

Rosie gasped. “God, it’s him! It’s got to be!” she said.

“Hold on.” Gabe pointed to the man’s picture again. “You’re sure? This man?”

“Oh yeah. See that smug smile? How it curls up more on one side? Wears it every time,” he said. “Cheap son of a bitch. Never even orders as much as a french fry.”

“You got a name?” Gabe asked.

“No. Like I said. Pays cash and sits in the back. But wait…” He scratched his head as though ushering a memory. “A few weeks ago he went to the bathroom and this chick he was with called over a waitress and bought a round with her credit card. We had a laugh about it. First time we got a decent tip from a table he was at—but only because the woman was the one who paid.”

“Is she here? That waitress?” Rosie’s eyes were scanning the place, but it was empty.

The bartender shook his head. “She works nights. I can try to reach her. You got a number or a card or something? If she can remember what night, what they were drinking, we might be able to find the slip. It would at least give you the name of one of his dates.”

Gabe pulled a business card from his wallet. He wrote Rosie’s cell phone number on the back and handed it to the bartender.

“Try us both; it doesn’t matter,” he said. “As soon as you hear from her.”

“Will do,” the bartender said. “And text me that picture of your sister. I’ll get it to everyone who worked last night. I really hope you find her. If it’s any consolation, he seemed harmless. Just another asshole working his game.”

“Thanks, man.” Gabe shook his hand, but Rosie couldn’t wait. She was walking fast, back to their cars on the street. Gabe grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Hey,” he said. “This is good news. Laura was here last night. We know from her phone records. This has to be our guy. And now we can find him … and then find Laura.”

“I know you’re thinking the same thing I am,” Rosie said, pulling her arm away. “It’s why I haven’t called the police. It’s why you haven’t made me.”

“Rosie…”

“No—we have to stop. We have to think this through.”

“There’s nothing to think through. We found Jonathan Fields. He’s a harmless womanizer.”

“Gabe…” She looked at him with dismay. It was not possible that he was forgetting. “She didn’t get back in my car. The parking tickets—one right after she got to Richmond Street. And one in the morning. There are only two things that could have happened last night.…”