Coming Home (29 page)

“Goddamn her!” she suddenly hissed. “Why can’t she just be normal? Why does everything she does have to tear me apart? I’ll
never
forgive her for this! She was clean!”

She’d fallen into hysterics, which delayed their quick escape. Lucian cradled her face and spoke softly of things that should reassure her, but there was no getting Pearl back there once her mother realized she was free to leave.

The elevator made a sound and Parker held the door. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lucian growled.

“What do you think? I’m going to help find her mother. I know the places she goes.”

“Last time you offered your help it came with conditions. We’ll manage without you.”

“Whatever. I really don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m helping Scout.”

Lucian looked at her as she wiped her nose and eyes. He must have come to some decision, because the next thing she knew they were exiting the building as a group and climbing in the limo. Lucian’s Escalade was parked at the curb, forgotten.

Once inside, Lucian directed Dugan to the tracks. The ride was made in awkward silence. She couldn’t look at Parker. Her mind continued to arrange a slideshow of the worst-case scenarios.

When they reached the tracks, she went to open the door and Lucian held her back. “No.”

“I’ll go look,” Parker said, letting himself out. The door quickly closed behind him. This was where Parker had found his own mother’s body years ago. Would he find Pearl’s as well?

They waited for what felt like days. Parker had disappeared under the torn chain link fence and vanished into the old abandoned mill. Her tears had dried and her skin was cold.

“How long ago did she leave?” she croaked.

“The nurse said they think she left around seven a.m.”

“What time is it now?”

“Almost one.”

It was about a thirty-minute ride from the rehab to the city. Would Pearl even know an address to give the cab driver? She could have told him Folsom and directed him once he got closer to roads she recognized.

The door suddenly opened and Parker slid in. “She’s not there. No one’s seen her in months. Do you have hand sanitizer?”

Lucian reached in a compartment and tossed him a small bottle. “Where else can we look?”

“She’d most likely come back here,” Parker said as he cleaned his hands.

Lucian looked at her and she shrugged. “This was her home.”

“Is there anywhere else she went? Where did she get her drugs?”

“I got them for her. It was either that or watch her sell herself until there was nothing left.”

As he drew in a deep breath, she heard the way it shook. “Where did you buy them?”

She met his gaze. Showing him this side of her past was so much more painful than telling him about it. There was no diluting the truth when it was right before his eyes. “There’s an old school about eight blocks from here. There’s a house . . .”

The limo drove as Parker directed Dugan in the right direction. The few houses that marked the way were mostly abandoned or in ill repair.

She rubbed her head, weary from worry. The thought of what this day could still bring utterly exhausted her, but she’d get through it, because that was what she’d always done. Humpty Dumpty fell down, and she put her back together again and again and again.

The school came into sight. It was vacant beyond the fact that summer was here. Scout recognized the old familiar landmarks and pointed to a run-down house across the way. It was likely an apartment at some point, but had the bones of an old Victorian.

The siding was a faded shade of maroon. Trim was painted everything from green to blue. The crumbling cement steps were barely climbable. Graffiti was scribbled everywhere, even over the wood that filled the windows like patches over empty eye sockets.

The Victorian was the crack house where everyone went to get stoned. Next to it, the small, run-down white house with blue trim was where the dealer lived.

Lucian looked to Parker and he shook his head. “He’ll only talk to Scout.”

“I’ll need some money.”

Lucian scowled at her as if she were crazy. “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re going in there alone.”

“Lucian, if you go, he’ll shoot you. He’ll think you’re a cop or worse, someone poaching from his territory. Just give me a few dollars and I’ll be right out. He’s probably already loading his gun from the window wondering what the hell a limo’s doing in his front yard. I just want to find Pearl.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Evelyn—”

Parker suddenly interrupted them. “I’ll go with her. He at least knows who I am. He doesn’t like me, but he’ll recognize me.”

Lucian’s jaw tensed. “I swear, if anything happens to her on your watch I’m holding you responsible. You have three minutes and I’m coming in.”

They climbed out of the car and approached the tiny white house. A sheet fluttered over the unbarred part of the window. They were being watched. She knocked, just as she always had, the quick, two short raps.

The knob turned and the door eased open as if by a phantom touch. They pressed through and she was immediately bombarded by the tainted scent of meth and rotting waste.

Piled-up trash crunched under her shoes, and she was incredibly grateful she wore her sneakers that day. A half-naked woman slept on a bare, stained mattress in the corner.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Scout. I’m getting one surprise after another today. You’re looking . . . well.” The dealer turned and scowled at Parker.

“Damien, we’re looking for Pearl. Have you seen her?”

He shrugged. “I see lots of people. I’m a very sought-after gentleman. Hard to keep track of who I do and don’t see.” He sat slouched on a broken couch. She made out the shape of a gun under the worn cotton of his pants.

“Please.” She held out the hundred-dollar bill Lucian gave her. “I only want to find Pearl.”

She never let Damien know Pearl was her mother. While they may have resembled one another at some point, those days were long over. Giving a man like Damien that sort of information only gave him more power.

He took the money and eased back in his seat. Feigning disinterest, he flipped back the sheet over the boarded window. Through the small cut-away space she saw the limo. They’d been gone about a minute.

“You’re rollin’ with a new kinda crowd now, eh, Scout? I’m thinking you could do a little better than this if you really wanted my attention. Why don’t you run on out there and ask your sugar daddy for some more money and I’ll help you find Pearl.

“Here, you piece of shit,” Parker said, tossing another two hundred on Damien’s lap. “Now tell us if you saw her.”

Damien picked up the money and tsked slowly. The girl in the corner moaned. The smell was getting to Evelyn and she felt like she was going to pass out if she didn’t get into some fresh air quick.

“I don’t recall inviting you in, boy. Why don’t you step outside so me and Scout here can have us a chat?”

“Not on your life.”

Damien’s lip lifted as if it were attached to a fishing hook. He laughed. “Ah, or maybe on yours.”

“Parker, go wait in the car.”

“Are you insane?” Parker hissed.

“Better do as she says . . .
Parker.
”

“I’m not leaving you here. You have about one minute before I’m the least of your problems so I suggest you talk.”

Damien sat up, his hand going to his waist. “What’s going on, Scout? Who’s in the limo?”

“No one. No one who wants any trouble. Look, Damien, please just tell me if you’ve seen Pearl and we’ll leave. If I’m not out of here within a minute, you’ll have company I know you don’t want. Just tell me what I paid you for and we’ll go.”

His bloodshot eyes narrowed. He seemed to be weighing his options. Unwanted company led to gunshots, which led to the police, which led to trouble for everyone. “A’ight. She was here first thing this morning. Bought her usual shit and left, just like you and boy wonder are gonna do right now.”

She nodded, a thousand knives tearing at her heart. There went her mother’s sobriety.

They left the house just as Lucian was getting out of the limo. She drew in a breath of fresh air that was hardly fresh. Everything around that place smelled of decay.

She quickly walked to the limo.

“Did you find out anything?”

“She bought heroin this morning. That means she’s not far. If I know my mom, she went to the first dark corner she could find to get high.”

The three of them turned and looked at the three-story Victorian. She was most likely in there.

Evelyn suddenly couldn’t move. All of her life she’d had this despicable vision of finding her mother dead. Each time she knew Pearl had gotten high she feared it would be that moment come to life.

Chances were they’d find her all doped up, she wouldn’t recognize any of them, and they’d be carrying her like a screaming banshee out of there. But the little girl in her, the one who many times tried and failed to wake her doped-up mom, feared that wasn’t the worst they could find.

Dugan appeared and handed Lucian a gun. Fuck, things were getting out of hand. “I’ll go look for her and come get you if I find her,” she said.

Lucian nodded at Dugan in some sort of code. She looked up as Dugan’s large shadow blocked the sun. The chauffeur stepped close. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.”

She squinted at him. “What?” He grabbed her and she jerked, unsure why he was suddenly restraining her, but his grip was too strong.

Lucian turned to her. “Parker and I will go in while you wait here.”

“What? No! I’m going in. It’s my mother.” He was already walking away. “Dugan, let go of me!”

“It’s for your own safety, Ms. Keats.” He dragged her to the limo and she struggled as he shoved and shut her inside. Her fingers jammed against the handle as the safety locks engaged. She smacked her palms against the glass and screamed.
“Let me out!”

There were dangerous, rotted places in the house that wouldn’t hold the weight of two grown men. Parker wouldn’t know where those spots were hidden because he never went in there.

She abandoned the door, scurried across the carpeted floor, and climbed over the front seat. Her fingers shook as she found the main controls and unlocked the door, wrenching it open. Dugan cursed and grabbed her. His fingers bit into her arms and tears rushed to her eyes.

“You don’t understand! I have to go with them!”

“I’m sorry,” was all he said as he refused to let her go.

She struggled, urgent concern choking her. “Please, Dugan. He could get hurt. They could both get hurt.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back in a few minutes. Why don’t you get back in the car?”

She nodded in defeat and turned to face the building. The cracked foundation and hollow windows were weathered beyond repair. Drawing in a deep breath, she winced, fully admitting to herself she was crazy, turned, and slammed her knee in Dugan’s groin.

He buckled like she predicted and released her arm. “I’m sorry,” she called over her shoulder.

As she raced into the building, the chauffeur wheezed her name. Her feet kept moving. The stench just inside the door was rancid. Her eyes adjusted to the sooty darkness. Floors that hadn’t seen the light of day in years were covered with a slippery layer of dust marked with footprints.

Trash littered the perimeter, and floorboards whined under her weight. Moving quickly, knowing just where to put her feet from force of long habit, she listened for where Lucian might be.

A thick banister lined the broken steps. Peeking in the large rooms on the first floor, junkies lazed here and there, mostly stoned out of their minds and uncaring of her presence. She didn’t see Lucian or Parker, which meant they’d likely already searched those rooms for Pearl.

Taking the stairs, she carefully placed her steps. At the top, she knew to avoid a soft patch of floor. Remnants from a demolition that had started long ago and never completed were piled in the middle of the largest room on the second floor. As welcome as a beam of light would be, whenever the sun pressed through a crack, it only drew her attention to how putrid this place really was.

Something shattered beneath the weight of her rubber-soled shoe, small and narrow like a crack pipe. Steady footsteps sounded behind her, echoing with heavy breath. She rushed around the pile of nails, wood, and wire, in search of Pearl or Lucian.

The low baritone of male voices drew her attention. Lucian’s broad shoulders filled the doorway of what was likely once a bedroom.

“Jesus, don’t let that be her . . .” he whispered.

“I’ll go check,” Parker said and Lucian stilled him before he entered the room to inspect whatever they were staring at.

“She’s looking at us.”

Evelyn stilled. There was something so wrong with that statement. Her blood ran cold and her limbs trembled. Her sense of speech disappeared as she watched Lucian’s expression. Her mother was dead. She had to be dead. Why did he look like that?

Halting footsteps echoed behind her, then someone grabbed her arm and she screamed. Dugan held her with unbreakable strength.

Lucian pivoted and his face contorted with outrage.
“Get her out of here!”

Words she couldn’t decipher were said and voices rose. Parker stepped out of sight and that’s when everything stopped moving in slow motion and picked up double time.

There was a horrible creak and Lucian turned. He shouted and Dugan ran, albeit with a hunching gait, after Lucian. Evelyn chased after Dugan, who blocked her way. She wedged her body into the room just as Parker’s body lost balance. The house moaned like a burg slamming into the earth from a thousand miles away. Lucian threw out his arms and Parker skidded across the floor. The noise became deafening and suddenly the floor collapsed, a cloud of dust and rotted wood particles rising in its place.

As the gaping hole came into view, every nerve ending tensed and she screamed at the top of her lungs. He was gone.

“Lucian!”

Dugan restrained her as she kicked and screamed, fully prepared to fall into hell after him. As the dust settled, her frantic eyes landed on her mother’s face. She wasn’t blinking. With all this dust, she wasn’t moving, and a trail of dried blood trailing from her discolored mouth matted with the dirt falling through the air.