When Wishes Collide (20 page)

"Summer talks too much."

"Summer also said she hadn't seen you smile that much in two years."

"I don't remember smiling," he grumbled. "And it's really no one's business. Adrianna felt guilty about not asking for help when she first met the kids, so she wants to make things right."

"That's very noble."

"She's a good person, remarkably good," he said. He saw the knowing gleam in Josh's eyes. "I don't have time for this. I need to get to work."

"All right," Josh said. "Give me about a half hour, and I'll help you."

"You're exhausted. You should go home."

"When you're so close to finding Stephanie – not a chance. What can I do?"

"Rebecca worked at that nightclub that got shut down several months ago – Ricky's. She stripped under the name Delilah Raymond. Jen may have worked there as well. I need to find anyone who worked at the club before it closed."

"I'll talk to the guys in vice. Maybe someone has a contact."

"Great, thanks."

"You know, Wyatt, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have a woman in your life."

"I'm still trying to recover from the last woman," he said, as he headed to his desk.

* * *

An hour later, Wyatt had learned a lot about Rebecca Mooney. She'd married Henry Raymond when she was twenty years old and had two children, Ben and Sara, who were now twelve and nine respectively. Henry had died in a car accident when Ben was eight and Sara was five. Rebecca had gone to work as an administrative assistant at a computer company that went out of business a year later. For two years, she had a record of temporary employment jobs, and then she'd started working at Ricky's. Since Ricky's had shut down eight months earlier, there was no record of Rebecca working anywhere in San Francisco. She was obviously being paid in cash for whatever she was doing, which was going to make the trail more difficult to follow.

Frowning, he flipped through the computer looking for more information. Rebecca's last known address was for an apartment building in San Francisco, but Ben had told him that they'd been living at the motel for months, so that was no help.

"I think I've got something," Josh said, joining him at his desk, with a piece of paper in his hand. "Kim Brady was a stripper at Ricky's. Now she works at a flower shop on Union Street, and she's working there today. I told her I was looking for some advice on flowers for my wedding. And I used your name. She's expecting you."

"That's great," he said jumping to his feet. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll keep looking for other names just in case this doesn't pan out."

"I'll call you when I'm done."

On his way out of the station, Wyatt called Adrianna, relieved when she answered right away. "Is Ben still with you?" he asked.

"Yes, he's watching TV. I'm drying his clothes now. He doesn't seem to be in a rush to leave, and he's a little more relaxed since you left. What are you doing?"

"Looking for his mother. Josh found a woman who used to work at Ricky's. I'm on my way to talk to her now. I'll call you when I'm done."

"All right. I hope she can tell us something."

"So do I."

Wyatt jumped into his car and drove across town as quickly as possible. Union Street was a popular destination in San Francisco, offering upscale boutiques, restaurants and bars. It was only a few blocks from the marina and the bay, and as he parked his car and got out, he was assailed by the aroma of seafood and sourdough bread, two smells he always associated with this part of the city.

As he walked into the flower shop, he saw an attractive redhead arranging flowers at the front counter. "Kim Brady?" he asked.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I hope you can," he said, flashing her his badge. "Wyatt Randall."

"You called about wedding flowers?"

"Actually, I'm looking for information. Did you work at Ricky's?"

She frowned. "That was a long time ago."

"Try eight months ago."

"I've turned my life around. I don't want to be involved with anything that went down at Ricky's."

Ignoring her comment, he continued on. "Did you know Delilah Raymond aka Rebecca Mooney?"
 

"I knew Becky," she said shortly, not offering up any more information.

He pulled out Jen's picture and held it up. "What about this woman?"

"That's Carly."

He felt a rush of adrenaline pound through his veins. Finally, he had a name. "What was her last name?"

"I don't think I ever knew."

"When did you last see her?"

"Probably the day Ricky's closed."

"Do you know where Carly or Becky is now?"

"I never had Carly's number, and Becky's phone has been out of service for a while."

"What about an address for either one?"

"Becky was staying at a motel in North Beach. I don't remember the name. I don't know where Carly lived. Except for Becky, Carly kept to herself." Kim paused, as if debating whether or not to tell him more. "What's this about?"

"Carly kidnapped a child," he said. "I'm trying to find her."

Kim looked shocked. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not. It's very important that you cooperate."

"That little girl called her Mommy."

His heart jumped into his throat. "You saw the child?"

"A few times. They would wait in the dressing room until we were done."

He couldn't believe Jen had left Stephanie in the dressing room of a strip club.

"The boss didn't like it when she did that, but Carly and Becky had trouble with babysitters. They tried to cover for each other, but that didn't always work out."

"Where do you think they are now?"

Kim hesitated. "I've changed my life around. I don't move in their circles anymore. It's been almost a year since I saw either one of them."

"Just think. I can't emphasize enough how critical your help could be."

She weighed his words for a long moment, then said. "One of the older strippers, Constance, started an escort service called Premiere Connections. She had met some high rollers during her days at Ricky's and other places, so she had a very exclusive clientele made up of celebrities, athletes, and wealthy businessmen who needed women to accompany them to events or on trips. Sometimes girls were needed to travel to foreign destinations. She made it sound like a dream job."

Kim opened a drawer below the counter and took out her purse. She fiddled through her wallet and removed a business card. "This is the contact number I had. I was tempted, but I never called it. I wanted to do something that didn't require me to take my clothes off. But I think Becky made the call. She was desperate for money. She had two kids to take care of, and she didn't feel like she had any options. I'm not sure about Carly."

"Is there anything else you can tell me? What about places you all used to hang out?"

"I can give you a list." She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and started writing. "Joe's Diner was a popular hangout for an early dinner before the shows."

He started at the mention of the diner. Adrianna had suggested last night that they go down there. She certainly had good instincts.

"Elton's Bar had a great happy hour with free food Monday through Friday," Kim continued. "We could usually get some guys to buy us drinks, and then we'd eat for free."

As Kim rattled off locations in San Francisco, Wyatt felt a wave of sadness that Jen's life had sunk to such a low level and that she'd taken his daughter with her.

"The Graceland Apartments were a block away from the club," Kim said. "A lot of the girls lived there. I think Carly might have been there for a while." She jotted down the name. "The only other thing I remember about Carly is that she used to spend a lot of time with one of the customers. His name was Brad. He was a music promoter or something like that. Carly told me she wanted to be a singer."

He couldn't believe Jen was still chasing that dream. She had a nice voice, but nothing that special. "I really appreciate this."

"Just don't tell anyone where you got the information. I don't need any trouble. I worked really hard to get this job, to get out of that life. I don’t want to go back."

He nodded. "I won't mention your name."

He walked out of the florist shop, pausing on the sidewalk to pull out his phone. His first call was to Josh. "Ever heard of Premiere Connections? Apparently, it's an escort service one of the strippers at Ricky's started. Kim Brady thinks that Rebecca Mooney otherwise known as Delilah Raymond went to work there."

"I can look into it," Josh said, "Anything else?"

"Quite a bit actually. Kim gave me a list of places to check. She identified Jen from her picture as someone named Carly. Carly spent time with a music promoter named Brad. Apparently, she still thought she could be a singer."

"Well, at least she was sober enough to have some goal," Josh replied.

"Kim said that Carly and Rebecca were friends, that Rebecca watched Carly's daughter. She also said that Carly had told everyone she was running away from an abusive husband." It still burned that Jen could lie about him so easily. He had never once laid a finger on her. She was the one who'd thrown a vase at his head and almost knocked him out.

"We're finally getting somewhere."
 

He sighed. "I should be happy, but I'm tired of chasing clues. I want to find my daughter already. It's been so damn long."

"You will, Wyatt. You're getting close. I can feel it."

"I hope so. I'll check back in later."

* * *

"Hey, Ben, what do you think about getting some lunch?" Adrianna stopped in the doorway of her bedroom, staring at the empty bed. The TV was still on, but there was no Ben. Shaking her head, she moved down the hall. She'd just come from the bathroom, and the door was still open, the room empty. The living room and kitchen were equally silent.
 

Ben was gone.

She opened the door to her apartment and stepped into the hall. Jogging down the stairs, she went all the way outside, looking both ways down the block. There was no sign of Ben.

Damn!

She'd only been in the bathroom a few minutes, but he'd obviously grabbed that opportunity to leave. She'd thought he was beginning to trust her, but he'd played her. He could be anywhere by now. She'd been in the bathroom at least twenty minutes.

Walking back into her building, she slowly climbed the stairs to her apartment. Wyatt was not going to be happy. All he'd asked her to do was watch Ben, and she'd screwed it up.

As if on cue, her phone rang, and Wyatt's number came up on the screen.

"Hello," she said.

"I got some new information," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "I'm on my way over to your place."

"Great," she said, wondering if she should tell him now or later that Ben had taken off.

"I'll see you in a few minutes," he said.

So, she'd tell him later, hoping that by some miracle Ben would reappear in the next several minutes. At least he hadn't left hungry, she thought, as she cleared the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table.

She probably shouldn't have been surprised that he'd left. She might have done the same thing when she was his age. He'd had a meal. His clothes were clean, and there were two adults that could take away his freedom at any moment by calling in a social worker. That was the last thing Ben wanted. She just hoped he would be all right. She liked him, and she felt a kinship to his circumstances. His father had died. His mother had struggled. It wasn't his fault he'd been born into a life of need and loneliness. He deserved more than that.

While she waited for Wyatt, she cleaned up the kitchen and then checked her email. When her phone rang a moment later, she expected it to be Wyatt again, but it was Josh Burton.

"This is Adrianna," she said in reply to his query.

"It's Inspector Burton."

"Yes, I know. What can I do for you?" she asked, an uneasy feeling spreading through her body.

"I don't know if Wyatt had a chance to speak to you, but we arrested two males last night in connection to the homicide at your restaurant."

Her legs felt suddenly weak and she sank down on a stool by the kitchen counter. "Who – who was it?" she asked. "Did they have a reason? How did you find them?" The questions tumbled out of her.

"The men were in their late teens, eighteen and nineteen. They didn't expect anyone to be in the restaurant. When your friend appeared, one of them panicked and shot him. There doesn't appear to be any premeditation or any link between your friend and the two men."

"I never thought there was," she said, even though that wasn't completely true. "Are they definitely going to jail?"

"We have a very strong case. An ex-girlfriend of one of the guys turned him in."

"That was brave."

"Apparently, he cheated on her and anger fueled her courage."