The Desert Behind Me Read online

  An inhale. “Don’t worry yourself on her account. She’s plenty capable, believe me. I spoke to her this morning. She lets her messages sit in her inbox and it fills up, that way, she can screen her calls and decide who to answer and you can’t leave a message. It’s an old trick. She’s fine.”

  Rafe stared out the windshield. “I’d like to verify that myself. Can you tell me where she’s staying?”

  “Jesus. You can’t mind your own business? She’s with my mother. In Mesa. I’ll give you her number.” Kandy rattled off a number and I scrambled to write it in Rafe’s notebook. “She goes there when I travel.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Shaw. I assume if you see my number on an incoming call, you’ll take it,”

  Her long exhale made me imagine her blowing cigarette smoke in Rafe’s face. “Of course, Officer.”

  He disconnected and started dialing the number I’d written.

  I stated the obvious. “She’s lying.”

  He nodded. “Probably.”

  “I’ve never understood parents who cover for their kids. Especially when they could be in danger.”

  Rafe held the phone to his ear. “Sometimes, like with Mrs. Thompson, they think they’re protecting their kid. Other times, like Cali’s mother, they want to be the cool mom. The best friend.”

  A memory scorched me.

  The scream of the blow dryer drowns out the hideous indie band that is her current favorite. My roots beg for mercy as she pulls and smooths my shoulder-length hair. She snaps off the dryer and steps back, eyeing me in the mirror. “You should wear your hair like this all the time. You look so hot.”

  I frown at her, my nerves stretched tight and my stomach swirling. “Hot is not a word for a woman my age.

  She shoves my shoulder. “Stop that. You’re not that old. Most of my friends tell me how cool you are and Troy called you a MILF, an image I’ll never get out of my head.”

  “Thanks for sharing, now I’ll feel slimy when he’s around.”

  She bends over and hugs me, framing us together in the mirror. Her silky blonde hair falls over my shoulders, her blue eyes bright and as excited as mine. “I’m kind of glad I got Dad’s hair and eyes, but thanks for the good bone structure.”

  I can’t help laughing. “You sound like your grandmother.”

  She jumps up and bounds for my closet. “Thanks. I was going for that Queen Amanda thing. I love that she’s set the standard for us strong, kick-ass women.”

  I am grateful that I’m not the kind of mother I’d had. Mom never needed my advice on anything, certainly not hair and makeup. She didn’t raise me to have the girlfriends who giggled over boys and experimented with the latest fashion trends at slumber parties. For Mom and me, life was a series of goals set, met, and moving on.

  But never for us. We would have been friends.

  The phone connected and Rafe spoke. “Mrs. Shaw?”

  An angry woman responded, “No. That’s my daughter. If she owes you money you’ll have to get it from her. I’m not responsible for her debts.”

  “Nothing like that.” He introduced himself and explained he was performing a wellness check on Cali, who was supposedly staying with her.

  She paused, then in the same harsh tone said, “If Kandy said Cali is here, why don’t you believe her? Cali is here. She’s been here for a week.”

  They exchanged a few more words but Rafe couldn’t get anything else from her and hung up.

  I slapped the seat between us. “That’s an obvious lie. Cali was at the ball field four days ago.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything for a minute. “Is that the last place anyone saw her?”

  She’d slipped into the gray sedan, a memory that jolted me. The voices wouldn’t connect those dots. “As far as I know. “He started the engine.

  35

  We pulled out of the fancy neighborhood and Rafe pointed us south.

  “Where are we going?”

  He concentrated on the late afternoon congestion. “Maybe someone at the park saw the girls and can help us find the man they were talking to.”

  “The guy is holed up somewhere with the little blonde, banging—” Frank said.

  I muttered for him to shut up, then winced, afraid Rafe heard. The constant crackle and static of the radio might have masked my utterance because Rafe showed no reaction.

  “You can’t hide your crazy from him forever.”

  I called the hospital again. The same young male voice answered as the previous two times and he was clearly annoyed to have to tell me no change, again. There had to be some change by now, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle what that might be.

  We didn’t talk for the next twenty minutes in the stop and go of the street lights. Since retirement, I didn’t miss the frustration of having to get someplace and a rush of humanity clogging my way. These days, my only destinations were wherever the Rangers sent me and my time with Tara. I easily managed that by leaving extra early to avoid the stress of being late. Trying to get to the park now felt like wading through tar.

  We finally battled our way through downtown and east to the park. If the population had changed or shifted from yesterday, an outsider like me wouldn’t notice. It seemed the same collection of weather-worn men and a few women, lounged around in their colorless clothes. Their grime and defeated air made them look nearly indistinguishable from each other.. Rafe parked in the lot and we climbed out.

  Technically, the hottest part of the day was mid-afternoon, but it always felt to me the real burn arrived an hour or two before sunset. The rays seemed to laser into my skin and the air felt too still to breathe. In another month, we’d be in the worst of it, where the wise stayed indoors from nine or ten in the morning until four or five in the afternoon. By Buffalo standards, today felt like dead of summer, Popsicle in the shade, long afternoon nap weather. For Tucson, it was spring.

  I scanned the nearest clump of homeless. Four men, ranging in age from young adult to seasoned graybeard. One lay with his head on a backpack, one stood and fidgeted from foot to foot, talking in rapid fire to a drowsy man with a blank face. Another guy, hair like sun-bleached steel wool squatted next to a grocery cart filled with dusty belongings. No Shax or the perv who’d talked to the cheerleaders.

  Rafe hadn’t joined me so I turned to see what held him up. He backed from the trunk of his car with a case of bottled water. “Want to help me here?”

  I rushed to him and took his load so he could grab another case. He slammed the trunk closed. “Come on.”

  With the peace offering, we approached four different gatherings of people. At least one person in each group knew Rafe by name. He passed out water and asked them if they knew Shax. Most of them did. Had they noticed a man about thirty, six feet tall, with dark hair, talking to girls at the fence between the ball field and the park? None of them had anything useful to pass along.

  The sun slipped behind the Tucson Mountains that stood between the heart of town and where I lived, on the western edge. Long shadows spread from the palm trees scattered around the park.

  “There,” I said and pointed toward the slight figure of Shax ambling toward the group at one of the picnic tables. I hurried to intercept him and Rafe kept up with me.

  When he saw me, Shax pulled up short. He didn’t haul around a pack or push a cart. He wore different, if not equally shabby, clothes than he’d had on the other day. More proof he had a place to live off the street.

  He met me with a sickening smile of diseased teeth. “Jamie, Jamie, sweet desert flower.”

  Rafe narrowed his eyes at Shax.

  The Chorus hummed and groaned.

  Knows your name.

  Knows your name.

  Dangerous.

  “You remember me from a few days ago?” I asked gently. Setting him off again wouldn’t be good.

  He scratched at his tattooed arms. The tendrils of vines snaked up and down through the cars, tails, eyes, claws, vehicles lost in the green leaves. The plane t
attoo looked raw. “Jamie Butler. Good cop. Doing your job.”

  “That’s right.”

  Rafe and I approached him slowly and he waited, like a skittish stray dog who might bolt if we spooked him.

  The light of the day faded and we stood in growing gloom. “Do you remember the afternoon we met?”

  That damaged grin brightened. “I do. You wore your uniform. Like it was your skin. Your skin. Yes. And you got mad. Very mad. Wanting to take care of kids. At the end of the day, always protecting children.”

  “Yes. Those three girls. The tall blonde one and the others with darker hair. Remember them?”

  He closed his mouth and nodded, eyes round like marbles. Was he high? Or had his brain mangled reality, making it hard for him to navigate society? “The pretty girls in the bumble bee dresses.”

  “Good.” I leaned toward him a little, getting a whiff of stale garbage. “Do you remember who they were talking to?”

  He grinned again, like a little kid winning a prize. “Me!” His face clouded. “They were mean. Said awful things to me. They got all the money and the pretty, pretty faces and all that sweet honey. They smelled like you want to eat them, but they taste like spoiled cabbage.”

  I tried to bring him back. “But there was someone else there, too. Do you remember who that was?”

  He looked confused. “They were too good to have a conversation with me. Not like you. You helped me.”

  That gave me another opening. “How is Petunia?”

  Rafe hadn’t said anything but he watched our exchange with intensity.

  Shax’s forehead furrowed. “Petunia?”

  “Your dog. You lost your dog that day and wanted me to help you look for her.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a dog. I don’t have a yard to keep her in. Once I had a lot of things but someone took them from me. ” His wistful expression deepened. “I even had a Jaguar. I loved driving it fast. Loved that powerful cat springing ahead.”

  The image of the jaguar launching from the car hood made me gasp at the pain. Hot and burning my chest. I forced myself to see the park. Then and now.

  Shax’s loss sank into me. I didn’t have anything to offer to make it feel better. Except knowing how it hurt. “I’m sorry.”

  He tilted his head and eyed me with an expression I couldn’t identify, sort of a curious anger. “Do you know how it feels?”

  Voices I had no names for whispered to me. “Look at him. Remember. Remember.”

  “I helped you that day. After those girls were talking to the dark-haired man by the fence. Think, can you remember that guy?”

  He focused on the grass, now a dull gray in the twilight. His head popped up. “Not that day. You didn’t help me in the day. It was at night. You came back. With the girl.”

  He was confused, so I tried to help him focus. “I was here the next day, at the baseball tournament.”

  He shook his head like a whirlwind. “No. No. No. Not when you wore your uniform. Not then. At night. You came here at night. You and the girl.”

  I gave Rafe a defeated look. This was going nowhere.

  Rafe took over. “Tell me about that. Jamie helped you that night? How?”

  Shax addressed me. “You saw me at the fence. Like in the day. At the fence watching the girls. I like to watch the girls. I don’t touch them. I just watch.”

  Rafe prompted him. “And Jamie helped you?”

  Now he looked at Rafe. “Yes. She did. I followed them across the park. They walked fast and I kept up with them. Just watching.”

  In the park that night? It must have been someone else. He was confused.

  Now Shax smiled at me. “You gave me twenty dollars.”

  I leaned toward him, into his decaying stench. “That wasn’t me. I wasn’t at the ball park that night.”

  His eyes got that glassy gleam again. “Oh no. It was you. I remember the twenty dollars. I bought us all something. You were our angel. Twenty dollars. Food and….” He slapped his hand over his mouth and gave me a horrified look.

  Rafe used that soft, commanding manner of his. “And what? What next?”

  Shax shook his head and backed away. “I’m sorry,” he said to me.

  Rafe followed him one step. “Sorry for what?”

  Shax spun away and ran.

  I caught him within a couple of steps and grabbed his arm.

  He screamed and tried to break free but Rafe took hold of him. They wrestled for several minutes, Shax crying and flailing, clearly terrified.

  Finally, Rafe was able to calm him enough that he could let go.

  Shax panted, his head down, not looking at either of us.

  As gently as possible, I tried to reach him. “Shax? What are you sorry for?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Rafe used a more commanding tone, though still kind. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Shax raised his head toward Rafe and his eyes flicked to me, then quickly away. “I remembered why she gave me the money.” He ducked his head as if I might take a swing. “She said I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about seeing her with the pretty girl.”

  36

  Rafe didn’t say anything as he maneuvered through the lighter traffic of early evening. The sun had disappeared but sent slashes of oranges and pinks to blend with the deepening purple of night falling over the desert.

  My head was stuffed with voices. Concentrating on what to say to Rafe felt like rowing into the wind. “I wasn’t at the park. I didn’t see Cali after the afternoon at the game.”

  He didn’t indicate he’d heard me and I wondered if I’d said it out loud or only in my mind.

  We skirted Sentinel Peak, the mountain that looked over all of Tucson with an A of white rock, I assumed to celebrate the University of Arizona. Headlights wound up to the overlook, people enjoying the cool of the evening, while I wound tighter and tighter, trying to calm the raging in my head.

  I couldn’t stand the silence in the car. “Shax is not reliable. He’s confused me with someone else.”

  Staring at the road, he said, “What’s going on?”

  Frank told me to grab the wheel and steer us off the road.

  Rafe frowned at me, then turned his attention back to the road. “There. Right then. Where is it you go?”

  Despite the scream of warning from the Chorus and Frank’s violent urgings, I snapped back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His face pinched in annoyance. “You’re sure making it hard for me.”

  “I’m not asking anything from you.”

  “No, you don’t ask anything from anyone, do you? You’ve got Pete, who wants to be friends and you shut her down. She says you aren’t buddies with anyone else in the Rangers and no one there seems to know anything about you. Why is that?”

  “Why make friends when they’ll disappear as soon as they find out about you?”

  Annoyance seeped into the fine lines around his eyes. “I ask you a question and it’s like you have to filter your answer. You don’t have to be so careful. Just talk to me.”

  Frank shouted at me. “Don’t tell him!”

  He’s bad.

  Don’t trust him.

  He wants to kill you.

  Silently I told The Three: I’m Jamie Butler. I’m Amanda’s daughter. I’m a retired Buffalo cop. I live in Tucson.

  His frown told me I’d taken too long to answer. I spat my words at him out of embarrassment. “Why should I talk to you when you don’t believe me?”

  His sigh carried his frustration. “About what?”

  My head pounded. “Cali. She’s been kidnapped and maybe Shax—”

  He put his hand up. “Stop it. You and I both know Cali isn’t missing. She’s been in touch with her mother and Megan. She’s not staying with her grandmother, that’s obvious. She’s probably shacked up with her boyfriend.”

  “I’m not making this up.”

  “Tell me why you’re doing this? Is it because you’re l
onely and want attention?”

  “You can’t believe what Shax said.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe you went back to the park and ran off with Cali, no. But what is going on with you?”

  The war raged inside my head.

  I closed my eyes and silently told the voices to shut up. They lowered the volume enough I could speak calmly. “Tomorrow we should go to the school early and talk to more of Cali’s friends. Megan is too good at lying and others won’t be that skilled.”

  Rafe’s jaw hardened. “No. This is it.”

  “But—"

  Those dark eyes dripped sadness. “I thought we could be friends.”

  “Why? What about me says I need or want friends?”

  “My God. First of all, even if it’s sexist, you are an attractive woman. But after that, you’re caring and kind and even with all your caution when you talk, it’s obvious you’re smart. I’ll bet somewhere inside of you, if you’d quit trying so hard to hide it, you have a sense of humor.”

  “BULLSHIT,” Frank yelled.

  There was a woman like that once. She never had a lot of friends because she was different. But she had a best friend who didn’t mind her occasional distance because it didn’t happen often. She fell in love and even if he didn’t know about the crowd inside her, he accepted her and they laughed, had adventures, made a life and a child together. The wonder of that baby and the joy as she grew, brought laughter and vitality, a race into each new day to discover what abundance it had in store.

  That woman lost everything bit by bit. The last blow stripped the fire from her and left her like snow-covered silt.

  I sounded like still water. “You’re not going to look for Cali?”

  “No, Jamie. I’m done.”

  Rafe remained silent as we left the congestion of restaurants and stores and sailed past the neighborhoods, finally to the last street on the edge of the desert. The blinker sounded like thunder as he made a left. No streetlights disrupted the darkness and only scant house-lights pocked the night. A vote of the HOA kept our neighborhood designated as a Dark Sky area, the better for star gazers. The deep cover of night usually comforted me. Free of the glare of prying eyes or a reality too harsh to bare.