Two Girls Down(99)

“Not really,” said Cap. “But this is something. And they, themselves, it’s strange—like they had no problem being here, like they expected to be here.”

“Maybe they just want to help.”

“Yes, maybe. Or maybe they feel guilty about something. They haven’t asked how much longer they’ll be here, haven’t asked for a lawyer.”

“They’re still here?” said Junior. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I know—I was waiting for this from Vega’s guy,” Cap said, pointing at the screen.

Junior wiped his mouth a number of times.

“So potentially they’re just nice Christian folks who happened to experience a windfall, and we’re holding them hostage,” he said.

“They’re not under arrest,” said Cap. “And what if that money is related, in some way, to Sydney?”

Cap watched Junior ruminate. The ruminations of Junior, he thought. Alternately abashed and sniffing whatever blood may have leaked into the water.

“You want to talk to them with me?” Cap asked him.

Junior didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“Let’s go.”

—

Stacy handed the box to Vega at the door, pushed it against her body. Vega took it, and Stacy let it go and stepped back and away slowly like she was in space, floating, hands outstretched with gnarled knuckles, without her realizing it. Then she brought them down to her sides, gripping the skirt of her dress.

“You can bring them back whenever,” she said.

“Within the next few days, I promise.”

Vega thought she probably hadn’t said the words “I promise” since she was a kid, linking pinkies at recess. There was some heaviness to it she hadn’t expected as she watched Stacy drift back to her planet of squares and mouthguards.

“Whenever,” said Stacy.

They said goodbye, didn’t shake hands, and then Stacy shut the door and locked it while Vega stood there. She waited a minute in case Stacy came back out. She didn’t, so Vega left, got in the car and dropped the shoebox on the passenger seat, eager to no longer be holding it. She put her hands on the wheel and avoided looking at her own eyes in the rearview because, at this point, the emotions were so varied and numerous she was sure she’d be able to see them as swirling pinwheels in her irises. She was sure it would make her dizzy.



Then her phone buzzed, and she let her breath out, hadn’t realized she’d been storing it. Cap was calling; the relief from seeing his name almost made her laugh out loud. She put a bud in her ear and said hello.

“Hey,” he said. “Can you talk?”

“Yes,” she said, starting the car. “Just leaving Stacy Gibbons.”

“You get any breaks?” he asked, breath choppy, like he was walking.

“Nothing with ballet class. But her ex-husband, Ashley’s father, inherited a chunk of money from a dead aunt two years ago.”

“Really,” said Cap.

Vega could tell he had stopped walking.

“That’s what he told Stacy. What did my guy get on the McKennas? I didn’t have a chance to look.”

“A wire transfer—a hundred fifty K, a year ago. They’re still here—Junior and I are about to go in.”

“We’ve got to talk to Ashley’s father.”

“Not now,” said Cap. “He’s in Philly, and it’s late. You should come back. Can your guy track the account the money came from?”

“Probably. I bet the Fed and his boss could too.”

“They’re dealing with the equipment distributor,” said Cap. Then he paused. “What do you think?”

“Doesn’t fit,” said Vega, speeding on an empty county road. “None of these people strike me as the human trafficking type.”

“No,” said Cap. “So is it a better or worse story than that?”

“You asking me?”

“If you have the answer, sure.”

“I don’t have anything,” she said, and she could hear how tired she sounded in the words, her voice breaking on the last. “You should get in there. You’ll know in a minute if they’re hiding something.”

“Yes, I think we will,” said Cap, sounding distracted. “Look, drive safe but hurry.”

Vega nodded to herself in the mirror.

“Yeah, see you soon.”



She hung up, pulled out the earbud. She merged with a line of cars heading toward the on-ramp of the state route and thought about the money. A hundred fifty thousand plus probably another hundred fifty thousand makes an even three. No missing-persons situation was less shitty when money was involved. It only meant things were worse, not better. Big big big big big Bad, Vega either thought or said aloud; she wasn’t sure. One “big” for every zero.





18

Toby McKenna was standing with his broad back to the door at first, hands in his pockets, head down. Erica sat in the chair holding her purse in her lap. Neither of them was doing anything with their phones. When they heard and saw Cap and Junior, Toby turned around and Erica sat up straight. Cap introduced Junior, and they shook hands.

“I’m sorry, you think we might be able to finish this tomorrow?” said Toby, so excruciatingly polite it made Cap a little angry. Why aren’t they indignant, vengeful, filled with rage?