Did you ever see her?”
Brad shook his head. “Not that I noticed. Sorry.”
“I saw her.”
The voice, very high and sweet, came from the rear of the store, where there was a magazine stand. Tess glanced toward the sound and found herself staring at the cover of a fashion magazine, one promising failproof tips for thicker hair, thinner thighs and better orgasms. The magazine lowered, and the gaunt, painted, pouting model fell like a mask to reveal a pretty, moon-faced teenager. She looked young not to be in school. All the eyeliner in the world—and it appeared this girl had used all the eyeliner in the world—couldn’t age this baby face.
“Don’t fib, Sukey,” the manager scolded her. “This woman is doing serious work. She doesn’t need to hear your stories.”
“It’s not a story,” the girl insisted, cheeks flushing. “I did see her. Not with Henry, but in Latrobe Park, earlier that week. She had a fuzzy coat, with a fur collar. She waswaiting for someone. Someone was supposed to meet her, but the person never came.”
The detail about the coat was dead-on. It also was on the posters the police had distributed, so Tess wasn’t too impressed.
“Why didn’t you tell the police this a year ago, when they were trying to identify her?”
Sukey rolled her eyes. “Because I didn’t know her name, which was the point, right? You asked if anyone saw her, and I did. I even talked to her a couple of times.”
“You talked to her, but she didn’t tell you her name.”
“We’re talking, and we haven’t exchanged names, have we?”
“Sukey.”
She tossed her head. “You only know my name ’cause Brad used it.”
“Tess Monaghan.” She held out her hand.
Sukey put down the magazine and came out from behind the aisle of canned goods that had hidden her body from Tess’s view. She was plump, even by South Baltimore standards, so her age was hard to ascertain. Packed into jeans, a tee-shirt, and a Starter jacket, she was full of jiggling curves. Early adolescence, Tess thought. Or a steady diet of Mounds bars.
“Sukey Brewer.” She took Tess’s hand tentatively, shaking more at the fingertips than at the palms. “Are you really a private detective?”
“It’s not something you lie about,” Tess said. “Unless you’re really twisted. How come you’re not in school, Sukey Brewer? You don’t look old enough to be a dropout.”
“Field trip day. My class went to the Smithsonian. My mom forgot to fill out the permission slip on time, so I’mhanging out here. I’m sure as shit not going to go to school if no one else is there.”
“She’s a good kid,” Brad volunteered. “She helps me out here, sometimes, doing inventory. I told her she can have a real job here when she turns sixteen next year, and has a work permit. But don’t believe a damn thing she says.”
“That’s not fair, Brad,” Sukey said. “Most of my stories are true. I just don’t get all the details right, sometimes. Like the newspaper, you know?”
“Tell the lady about the bank robbery you saw on your way over here this morning, even though there’s no bank between here and your house.”
“You weren’t listening. It was an armored truck, one of those red-and-black ones,” Sukey said. “Money was flying through the air, and people were grabbing it, then running away. It was wild.”
“Wild,” Brad repeated dryly, giving the word its Baltimore pronunciation: Wahhhhld.
Tess was not interested in that day’s robberies, real or imagined. “So, a year ago, you noticed this girl in the park. A girl in a fuzzy coat with a fur collar. What time was this?”
“About two or three.”
“She was dead by then.”
“The day before, I mean. I saw her the day before.”
“Why weren’t you in school that day?”
“Half day, teachers’ conference. I had a book I wanted to read—I read a lot.”
Brad nodded. “She does, she reads a lot. Which is why her head is so filled with nonsense.”
“I
Brad shook his head. “Not that I noticed. Sorry.”
“I saw her.”
The voice, very high and sweet, came from the rear of the store, where there was a magazine stand. Tess glanced toward the sound and found herself staring at the cover of a fashion magazine, one promising failproof tips for thicker hair, thinner thighs and better orgasms. The magazine lowered, and the gaunt, painted, pouting model fell like a mask to reveal a pretty, moon-faced teenager. She looked young not to be in school. All the eyeliner in the world—and it appeared this girl had used all the eyeliner in the world—couldn’t age this baby face.
“Don’t fib, Sukey,” the manager scolded her. “This woman is doing serious work. She doesn’t need to hear your stories.”
“It’s not a story,” the girl insisted, cheeks flushing. “I did see her. Not with Henry, but in Latrobe Park, earlier that week. She had a fuzzy coat, with a fur collar. She waswaiting for someone. Someone was supposed to meet her, but the person never came.”
The detail about the coat was dead-on. It also was on the posters the police had distributed, so Tess wasn’t too impressed.
“Why didn’t you tell the police this a year ago, when they were trying to identify her?”
Sukey rolled her eyes. “Because I didn’t know her name, which was the point, right? You asked if anyone saw her, and I did. I even talked to her a couple of times.”
“You talked to her, but she didn’t tell you her name.”
“We’re talking, and we haven’t exchanged names, have we?”
“Sukey.”
She tossed her head. “You only know my name ’cause Brad used it.”
“Tess Monaghan.” She held out her hand.
Sukey put down the magazine and came out from behind the aisle of canned goods that had hidden her body from Tess’s view. She was plump, even by South Baltimore standards, so her age was hard to ascertain. Packed into jeans, a tee-shirt, and a Starter jacket, she was full of jiggling curves. Early adolescence, Tess thought. Or a steady diet of Mounds bars.
“Sukey Brewer.” She took Tess’s hand tentatively, shaking more at the fingertips than at the palms. “Are you really a private detective?”
“It’s not something you lie about,” Tess said. “Unless you’re really twisted. How come you’re not in school, Sukey Brewer? You don’t look old enough to be a dropout.”
“Field trip day. My class went to the Smithsonian. My mom forgot to fill out the permission slip on time, so I’mhanging out here. I’m sure as shit not going to go to school if no one else is there.”
“She’s a good kid,” Brad volunteered. “She helps me out here, sometimes, doing inventory. I told her she can have a real job here when she turns sixteen next year, and has a work permit. But don’t believe a damn thing she says.”
“That’s not fair, Brad,” Sukey said. “Most of my stories are true. I just don’t get all the details right, sometimes. Like the newspaper, you know?”
“Tell the lady about the bank robbery you saw on your way over here this morning, even though there’s no bank between here and your house.”
“You weren’t listening. It was an armored truck, one of those red-and-black ones,” Sukey said. “Money was flying through the air, and people were grabbing it, then running away. It was wild.”
“Wild,” Brad repeated dryly, giving the word its Baltimore pronunciation: Wahhhhld.
Tess was not interested in that day’s robberies, real or imagined. “So, a year ago, you noticed this girl in the park. A girl in a fuzzy coat with a fur collar. What time was this?”
“About two or three.”
“She was dead by then.”
“The day before, I mean. I saw her the day before.”
“Why weren’t you in school that day?”
“Half day, teachers’ conference. I had a book I wanted to read—I read a lot.”
Brad nodded. “She does, she reads a lot. Which is why her head is so filled with nonsense.”
“I
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