Two Girls Down(31)

They drove in silence until Cap pulled up at the inn.

“He would’ve talked eventually. Chaney,” he said, “I had him. You didn’t have to come in like that.”

He sounded a little hurt about it. Jesus, thought Vega, now we have the ego.

“You know what the problem with that is?” said Vega.

He shook his head.

“Eventually.”

Cap looked surprised, almost in a pleasant way.

“Have a good night, Vega,” he said.

She didn’t answer him, got out of the car, went inside.

After three hours of sleep she woke up with boys’ names that could be girls’ names playing on repeat in her head. Dylan, Sam, Shane, Aidan, Peyton, Morgan.

Standing on her hands, she took slow breaths in and out through the nose. Her head started to get quiet, the only noise the heating unit humming in the corner. Cloudy paint splotches swam on her lids.

And there they were. The Brandt girls in white dresses with black velvet bands around their waists. Kylie to the left, Bailey to right, facing Vega. Vega didn’t believe in psychic visions or premonitions, but her mind wandered during the handstand, projected hazy filmstrips. It was pleasant in an autopilot sort of way, as long as it wasn’t a memory. So stay, thought Vega. Stay right where you are.

The girls inspected her like she was a painting in a museum. Then Kylie said, unexpectedly loud: “Better check your email.”

Vega’s eyes opened with a jolt, and she brought her legs down. She sat on the floor and raised her head too quickly, felt the heat leave her head and rush to her chest. After a few seconds she stood and went to her laptop, flipped it open and clicked her email. There was a new message, a Gmail address she didn’t recognize. No subject. It was a single line:

FIND NOLAN MARSH AND YOU WILL FIND THE BRANDT SISTERS





6

Cap was shocked out of sleep by the sound of Bosch next door yelling, then his own doorbell. He jumped up from the couch, still in his clothes, disoriented, his head running through the slideshow of the night before. He smelled the coffee brewing from the programmed machine in the kitchen, glanced at the blue numbers on the cable box (7:01 a.m.) as he hustled to the door, didn’t look through the glass panel before opening it. And there was Vega, looking exactly the same as she had hours earlier, except her hair was wet from the shower.

Bosch stood on the edge of his driveway and was waving his arms like he was trying to flag down a tow truck. He wore a bathrobe over his clothes.

“Cap, Cap, I tried-a teller she can’t park there,” he said.

Then Cap saw. Vega had parked in Bosch’s spot in front of the lawn where he liked to walk his dog and his mother’s cat.

“I’m not blocking the driveway,” Vega said, quiet, not defensive. She searched Cap’s eyes for an explanation.

“Cece won’t do business on a car, she don’t like the wheels,” Bosch shouted.

Cap smiled apologetically.

“We don’t park there,” he said. “You can park behind my car.”

Vega turned and stared for a moment at Bosch, who continued to talk.

“Cece gets upset, then Monty gets upset, then they don’t eat, Cap…” he said.

She walked down Cap’s front steps and headed toward her car.

“…then Ma don’t eat…”



For a moment Cap’s head flooded with concern while he watched them, Vega approaching Bosch slowly as he chattered. Then she unlocked her car with the beep from her keys and got inside, started the engine, and pulled into Cap’s driveway.

“…she’s gotter iron supplement, she can’t take it with any dairy else it don’t work,” Bosch was saying, though he was beginning to slow down.

Vega got out of the car and nodded to Bosch.

“Thank you, thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“Welcome,” said Vega.

“Thank you, thank you,” said Bosch again. “Cap, is Nell home there? Gotta book for her. She might like it.”

“Wednesday. Best to Iris,” called Cap, as he held the door open for Vega.

She passed underneath his arm, barely producing a draft. If he’d had his eyes closed he might not know she was there.

Cap let the door close and followed Vega in. Only now did he feel tired, the exhaustion of the night before pressing on him.

“Is Jamie awake?”

“I don’t think so. You want coffee?”

“No thanks,” said Vega. “I got this email a couple of hours ago.”

She handed him her phone. Cap peered at the screen.

“Who’s Nolan Marsh?”

“Twenty-five-year-old white male, disappeared three years ago. Took a walk after dinner from the home he shared with his mother and never came back. Listed as a ‘vulnerable adult.’?”

Cap leaned on the back of the couch and rubbed his eyes.

“Mentally challenged or ill,” said Cap.

“Yes. Detective Ralz is listed as the police contact.”

Cap thought.

“What’s the connection to the Brandt girls?”

“Nothing obvious. I have Marsh’s mother’s home address and a landline,” said Vega, examining her phone.

“Your guy get that?”