The Museum of Desire: An Alex Delaware Novel(44)

“Not that I heard, sir. She and Mom would have conversations but I stayed away from them. Life’s hard enough without bringing extra problems on yourself.”

“That’s for sure,” said Milo. “So she never asked you for money?”

“Never,” said Huralnik. “She had, I’da said no. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she wasn’t that crazy.”



* * *



—

Milo scrawled a few notes and sat back. “Schizophrenic?”

“Probably.”

“Completes the picture: victims with no connections.” His cell rang. A number he didn’t recognize. “Sturgis. Oh, hi, Dr. Bauer.”

He switched to speaker.

Andrea Bauer said, “This is probably nothing but the employee you spoke to—Justine—just called in a panic because another employee, Marcella McGann, is two days overdue and still hasn’t shown up. I’d already brought someone from another facility to sub and Justine’s done a few doubles, she’s exhausted. So I’m bringing an additional worker and sending Justine home for an extended weekend.”

Lots about her situation, very little about McGann.

Milo heard it, too, and rolled his eyes. “Marcella was due back Wednesday.”

“That’s right.”

“She was the one on shift when Benny Alvarez didn’t come home.”

“She was,” said Bauer. “I supposed this could be just a vacation overstay but Marcella has always been dependable. In any event, I thought you should know.”

“Thanks. Why’s Justine panicking?”

“Obviously because of what happened to Benny,” said Bauer. “Not that I can see any connection to Marcella being late. But Justine’s young and I suppose working alone could be tough. This is going to sound terribly sexist but the sub’s a man and the second person will be, as well.”

“You feel you need extra security?” said Milo.

“I don’t, it’s more a matter of reassuring Justine.” A beat. “And I suppose reassuring myself. I don’t feel any sense of personal responsibility for Benny but it is horrible. Any progress?”

“We’re working our way.”

“I see. One more thing, Lieutenant. According to Marcella’s Facebook page she’d be at a Cabo hotel called Hacienda Del Sol. Obviously, I wanted to talk to her about scheduling so I called but they told me she’s not there. I asked if she actually had a reservation, thinking maybe she’d just changed her mind. They refused to tell me, even though I speak decent Spanish. I must admit, that bothers me a bit. Mexico, you know how it is, nowadays. My husband and I used to vacation in Acapulco. Now you’re taking your life in your hands.”

“We’ll check it out,” said Milo. “As long as I have you, let me shoot a name your way: Mary Jane Huralnik.”

“Who’s that?”

“A street person Benny might’ve encountered.”

“A dangerous street person?”

“Another victim.”

“Oh,” said Bauer. “Well I’m sorry for that and it’s certainly a disgrace the way we let people live wretchedly. But I don’t see Benny developing a relationship with any of those people.”

“Why’s that?”

“Benny was trained in proper behavior. As are all our Level Ones. I’ve reviewed our procedures and they’re totally appropriate. The residents wouldn’t want me to tighten up. They wish to be treated like functional adults. Hope your luck improves, Lieutenant. And thanks for keeping things quiet.”



* * *



—

Milo said, “Every time I talk to her I start off thinking maybe there’s a heart of gold buried somewhere beneath the cashmere. Then she throws in an ulterior motive.”

I said, “Can’t think of one that would cause her to call about McGann.”

“Hmph.”

He found Marcella McGann’s social network page, learned the surname of chubby boyfriend Steve: Vollmann.

At the Hacienda Del Sol Resort and Spa in Cabo San Lucas he was met with the same stonewall Andrea Bauer had described. Unlike Bauer he had police credentials and the persistence of a retrovirus.

Three transfers later, a manager named Umberto Iglesias confirmed, in unaccented English, that the reservation had been made in Stephen W. Vollmann’s name and had not been “honored by the customer.”

“Meaning?” said Milo.

“By no-showing, they canceled a package deal,” said Iglesias. “Nonrefundable, nontransferable. We gave the room to someone else.”

“Did you try to contact Mr. Vollmann?”

“We call him?” said Iglesias. As if Milo had suggested he amputate his own nose. “Package deals are the customer’s responsibility.”

“What was the package?”

“Discounted room rate, full breakfast, tour of a tequila factory, ride on a dolphin.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“People enjoy it,” said Iglesias. “The police calling from L.A.? Is this guy a criminal?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“So why didn’t he show up?”

Milo said, “Why, indeed,” and hung up.