The Night Bird (Frost Easton #1)(29)
“No.”
Lucy shivered. “That’s awful.”
“It is. I’m sorry.”
“I checked with her supervisor, by the way. Brynn missed a day of work this week. She didn’t show up. She didn’t call.”
“And you have no idea where she was?” he asked.
“No.”
Frost craned his neck to study the plaza. “Did you say Dr. Stein’s office is nearby?”
Lucy pointed at a tall building on Stockton on the east side of the square. “She works in there.”
“Did Brynn say anything about seeing Dr. Stein lately? Is there a chance she could have gone to her for some kind of follow-up appointment?”
“I don’t think so. She didn’t mention it.”
“Did she say anything at all about Dr. Stein recently?”
“On the bridge, when we were stuck up there, she suggested I talk to her. She said she was pretty good. That’s it.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Lucy closed the plastic lid on her salad, as if she weren’t hungry anymore. She put her chin up, savoring the sun. “I love hanging out here, don’t you? Especially on the weekends. It’s so crazy. All the street performers. All the wild getups.”
“There’s nothing like it in the world,” Frost agreed.
She played with her hair, wrapping a curl around one of her fingers. “So did you always know you wanted to be a detective? Were you one of those little boys who played cops and robbers all the time?”
Frost shook his head. “No, when I was a kid, I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do.”
“That’s like me. I still don’t.”
“Yeah, it’s different for some people. My brother, Duane, knew he was going to be a chef when he was five years old. He was cooking dinner for all of us by the time he was seven.”
“People like that amaze me,” Lucy said. “I wish I had a dream like that, but I don’t.”
Frost shrugged. “I think the rest of the world is more like you and me. We just kind of find our way. Things happen, and we figure it all out as we go.”
“Well, I’m still trying to figure it out,” Lucy replied.
“You’ve got time. When I was your age, I was just getting out of USF law school. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.”
“Oh my God, you’re a lawyer?” Lucy asked.
“I hope that doesn’t destroy your opinion of me.”
“No, it’s just—why aren’t you practicing law?”
“Like I said, things happen,” Frost told her. “I went to SF State as an undergrad and got a dual degree in history and criminology. I was really only interested in history, but my parents said I should get some practical value out of my college education. They pushed law school on me, too. Duane was working ninety hours a week at minimum wage as a cook, and I think they figured one of the Easton boys should go make some money. It didn’t work out that way.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, there were no jobs for lawyers when I got out. That’s okay. I would have hated it.”
“So you joined the police?” Lucy asked.
“Nope.”
She was confused. “What did you do?”
“I drove a taxi for two years.”
Lucy laughed. She reached out and touched his shoulder and then quickly drew her hand back. “Wow, you really are full of surprises.”
“I liked it,” Frost said. “I got to know the ins and outs of the city, all the back roads and back routes. That still comes in pretty handy.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“I got robbed too many times. I had too many people throw up in my cab. So I hooked up with a high school buddy down on the Wharf. We ran fishing charters for a year. We slept on the boat. I liked being on the water, but I smelled like fish all the time, and girls didn’t really go for that.”
Frost was enjoying his trip down memory lane, but he knew how it ended. He felt a tightness in his stomach. Things happen, and you figure out where you’re going, but it doesn’t mean what happens is good.
“Then I spent six months working on Alcatraz as a tour guide. I loved that, being a history buff. It was my favorite job.”
“But only six months?” Lucy asked.
“Only six months.”
“What happened? Did you get laid off?”
Frost glanced at Lucy and then glanced away. They were the same age. Lucy and Katie. Both twenty-five.
“No, my sister was murdered,” Frost told her.
Lucy’s big eyes flew open even wider. He heard her inhale sharply. Without a word or thought, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. “Oh my God, Frost. I don’t know what to say.”
“Thanks. There’s nothing to say.”
She let him go, but she held on to his hand. “That’s so terrible.”
“Yeah. Katie was a sweet kid.”
He was about to say she was your age, but he didn’t. He was about to say you remind me of her, but he didn’t.
“I found her in the backseat of her car. It was—”
He stopped. It was a scene only the devil would understand.