Wonderland (16 page)

Except it wasn’t.

TWENTY

G
lenn Hovey was officially MIA. Even his mother sounded a little worried.

“This isn’t like Glenny,” Sherry Hovey said when Vanessa stopped by the house again. “He missed one of my doctor’s appointments so I had to ask Margie from next door to drive me. She’s got terrible eyesight. She almost ran into a utility pole.”

“Did you want to file a missing persons report?” Vanessa asked. “It’s been a few days. I’m sure you’re concerned.”

Sherry Hovey hesitated. “Well, I don’t think we need to get all in a tizzy about it. Glenny’s always come back before.”

The security guard, who was officially a person of interest in the Homeless Harry case, had never been away from work for this long. Donnie had put officers Nate Essex, Pete Warwick, and Claire Moran in rotation stakeout shifts outside the Hovey residence, but so far the man hadn’t shown up. Vanessa liked Nate and Pete well enough and felt kind of sorry for them that they’d gotten stuck with such a boring assignment, but Claire was still on her shit list for her attitude problem on Vanessa’s first day.

It was clear to her now that there were very few people at Seaside PD who were unbiased. Everyone in the department seemed overly protective of Wonderland, and other than her conversations with Donnie Ambrose behind closed doors, she’d never heard a single person disparage the park in any way. That wasn’t normal. Even now, with four missing boys, one of whom had turned up dead with his face eaten off, nobody seemed willing to say anything negative about Wonderland.

Even her daughter was beginning to drink the Kool-Aid, as Donnie had once put it. Ava was over the moon about her transfer to Elm Street, and as far as the fourteen-year-old was concerned, Wonderland was the next best thing to a One Direction concert.

“It happened just like that, Mom,” her daughter said, snapping her fingers. “I got the email this morning. I must have made a good impression on Bianca Bishop. That’s the CEO,” she added, as if Vanessa didn’t know. “I can’t wait to tell Katya and McKenzie. And you want to know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“No more purple uniform.” Ava’s eyes were alight with triumph. “Elm Streeters wear all black, and the T-shirts have a white clown face on the front. I mean, I would wear the T-shirt
anyway
. It’s, like, a genuinely cool shirt.”

“That’s amazing, honey.” Vanessa was delighted for her daughter, even though she suspected Oscar might have played a hand in this. But that was best kept to herself, because Ava was finally speaking to her again. “Who’s Katya?”

“My friend from work.” Ava was practically bouncing, high on excitement and teenage hormones. “She starts at Seaside Academy in September, too. She’s sleeping over tonight, by the way. Her shift ends the same time as mine, so you can pick us both up. You’ll like her. Her parents are Russian, and they’re even stricter than you are. They only said she could sleep over because Katya told them you’re the deputy chief.” She paused. “Who would have thought your job would actually be a good thing for my social life?”

With everything at home much better, Vanessa decided it was best not to complicate her life further by adding a man to the mix. Oscar Trejo had called earlier, politely inquiring about Wonderland’s security hard drive, which was still in Seaside PD’s possession. Vanessa debated whether to email him or call him back. Email would be a lot less intimate, but a phone call seemed more professional.

Oscar answered on the first ring, and without preamble, she politely informed him that they needed to hang on to the hard drive as her detective was still combing through it. The security footage hadn’t been helpful in the Homeless Harry case—which was why she’d originally asked for it—but she did need it for the Wonder Wheel Kid case. Blake Dozier was officially a missing person, and the park was the last place he was seen anywhere. Oscar said he understood and asked how the investigations were going. She replied that it was too soon to tell. Then the conversation changed.

“I want to see you again,” Oscar blurted.

She closed her eyes. “We already discussed this—”

“Let’s discuss it again,” he said. “I want to see you. Have dinner with me. We’ll eat, talk, not get drunk, get to know each other.”

“I have a lot of baggage, Oz. More than you can handle.”

“You need to let me decide what I can and can’t handle,” Oscar said. “You don’t think I have baggage? Who doesn’t?”

“The Wonder Wheel Kid is an active case. It would be . . . inappropriate of me to spend time with you. On a personal level, I mean.”

“Am I suspect in his disappearance now?”

“Of course not,” she said, caught off guard. “You were with me the night he climbed the wheel.”

“Then why is it inappropriate?”

“Because . . .” Vanessa couldn’t seem to come up with a good reason. “It just is.”

“Vanessa—”

“I’m sorry, Oz.” She hung up before she could change her mind.

The best way to get Oscar Trejo out of her head was to throw herself into her work. If she was using her job as an excuse not to get involved with him, then she’d damn well better
do
her job, even though it was her day off and she was at home. She turned her attention to Kyle Grimmie, the kid that her old friend Jerry had told her about on the phone the other night. Kyle had gone missing during a concert at Wonderland’s Bandstand, three years after Tyler Wilkins, and two years before Blake Dozier.

According to the case file, a band called The Philosopher Kings had been playing that night, and the last time anyone could remember seeing Kyle was shortly before the commotion caused by the electrical fire backstage. His belongings, normally stored in a locker inside the staff lounge, were gone. This suggested—much like Aiden and Tyler—that Kyle had left town of his own accord. Carl Weiss had conducted a few short interviews with the people who’d worked with Kyle that night, but no leads had surfaced.

Was that because there were no leads? Or because former deputy chief Carl Weiss had done yet another piss-poor job investigating this boy’s disappearance? She had thought about speaking to him before, but had always gotten sidetracked. She couldn’t put it off any longer. This was getting ridiculous.

Vanessa was working all four cases simultaneously, and had spent most of the last day making calls to Wonder Workers who’d known Blake, Aiden, Kyle, and Tyler. So far nothing had panned out. It was hard enough tracking down employees who’d left Seaside long ago, and when she was able to get one on the phone, they either couldn’t seem to remember much, or there was simply not much to remember.

For obvious reasons, retired police officers didn’t have publicly listed phone numbers, but Carl Weiss’s contact information was easy enough to access once Vanessa logged into Seaside PD’s system from her home laptop. A few seconds later, the phone was ringing, and she prepared herself to finally hear the voice of the man whose name was on three of the four cases she was currently looking into.

To her disappointment, the former deputy chief of Seaside wasn’t home. But his wife was, and she cheerfully informed Vanessa that her husband was in Cabo San Lucas with two of his fishing buddies. It was their annual boys’ trip, and he wouldn’t be home for another few days.

“Would you care to leave a message?” Mrs. Weiss asked. “I assume this has something to do with Homeless Harry? That was Carl’s case, you know. Aiden Cole’s father called Carl all the time about the slow progress. But there just wasn’t any information—it was like he upped and vanished. Poof. Gone. Then all of a sudden he turns up at the park and he’s all
mauled
? By some animal? I can’t even imagine. How did his father take the news? I’m sure he was—”

“Thank you, ma’am. I won’t keep you. I’ll try calling your husband again in few days.”

“We should have lunch sometime,” Mrs. Weiss said. “Are you a member of the Seaside Racquet Club? I play tennis there twice a week, and the café makes wonderful lettuce wraps if you’re doing the low-carb thing. You’re new in Seaside, aren’t you? It’s important you get acquainted with the right people. Did you receive a welcome package when you moved in?”

“I did not, ma’am, no,” Vanessa said.

“Now, see, that’s exactly why I stepped down as the head of the welcoming committee, because no one seems committed to doing their job.” On the other end, Mrs. Weiss clucked. “I also have a weekly mah-jongg group if you’re into—”

“Oh, my other phone is ringing,” Vanessa said, which of course it wasn’t. “It was wonderful talking to you, Mrs. Weiss. I’m sure we’ll speak again.” She disconnected quickly.

She needed a break. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to put the files away for a bit and actually use her day off as a day off. For the first time in a long time, she had nowhere to go and nowhere to be. John-John was at day camp. Ava was working her first shift somewhere on Elm Street. It might be nice to go out and do something normal. Go shopping. Grab coffee. Get a pedicure. Or call Oscar Trejo back, tell him she’d changed her mind, and that she was up for a little afternoon delight if he was.

The doorbell rang, and her crazy thought evaporated. “Saved by the bell,” she said to herself with a small laugh.

She padded to the door to see who it was. This time of the afternoon, it was probably a delivery. Maybe Jerry’s file had finally arrived. She pulled back the sheer curtain to peer out the window, and let out a squeal of delight.

The man standing on her porch was skinny, six four, with a short, neatly trimmed Afro. His arm was raised as if he’d been about to ring the doorbell again. Their eyes met, and a grin spread over his face, white teeth bright against his dark complexion. She flung open the door and threw herself at him.

“Didn’t think you were going to answer the door,” Jerry Isaac said in his hoarse baritone, laughing. “My next stop was the beach.”

Vanessa pulled back to look at her friend. She hadn’t seen him in six months, and the former Seattle PD detective looked really good. For the first time in years, he wasn’t wearing a turtleneck. The scar at his throat, exposed by the loose T-shirt he was wearing, was still visible, but it had faded to a flat, slightly pink line.

“Am I dreaming?” She was unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I said I’d FedEx Tyler Wilkins’s file to you.” He lifted up an old file folder. “Consider me FedEx, pretty lady.”

She hugged him again. “God, am I glad you’re here,” she said. “I was about to do something really stupid, and you just saved me.”

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“Come in,” she said. “I’ve got food, I’ve got drinks, we can sit and talk and catch up—”

“Slow down,” he said, laughing. “I’m here all week, honey. Decided I deserved a little beach time and so I’ve got me a room at the White Oaks Inn. They had a last-minute cancellation and I called at exactly the right time.”

“White Oaks Inn?” She gave Jerry her best dirty look. “What, my house isn’t good enough for you? Cancel it. You can take John-John’s room and he can bunk in the living room. He likes doing that, anyway.”

“I do that, people will say we’re in love.” Jerry grinned at her. “Hell, even I know how fast rumors spread in Seaside and I don’t even live here. Honey, I’m fine with the inn. It’s walking distance to the beach, and from what I remember, they do a mean sausage and waffles in the morning.” He patted his nonexistent stomach. “That should help fatten me up.”

“Well, at least come in and let me make you some lunch.”

“I was thinking we could go out. I thought I’d stop by the Devil’s Dukes, say hello to Tanner. Why don’t you come with? I’m sure he’d love to see you.” There was a gleam in Jerry’s eye.

“Love to see me?” Vanessa reached for her purse. “Are you being sarcastic? Both times I’ve seen that man, he’s yelled at me.”

“I think that means he likes you.”

“Oh, stop,” Vanessa said.

“Too soon?” Jerry suddenly looked embarrassed. “Shee-it. I’m not here five minutes and already my foot’s lodged in my mouth. It hasn’t been that long since John—”

“Don’t be silly,” Vanessa said with a smile. She followed Jerry out to the driveway. “That’s not what I meant. I’m a cop. He’s a biker and an ex-outlaw. Not exactly a match made in heaven.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll drive.” She unlocked the unmarked. “You’re really here for a week?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jerry said. “Talking to you got me all riled up about Tyler again, and I feel bad that I never looked into Kyle Grimmie when Tanner asked me to. Maybe I could have prevented the next two boys from disappearing. Or maybe not, I don’t know. But what I do know is I’m not going home until I figure out what happened to Tyler Wilkins, once and for all.”

TWENTY-ONE

I
n his office at Wonderland, Oscar looked down at the number he’d scrawled on the scratch pad in front of him. Wendy Kerse, the loan officer from the bank in Seaside, had left a voice mail on his cell phone asking him to call her back. It was, of course, regarding the loan he’d applied for to buy the restaurant by the beach. But he couldn’t determine from her tone whether the news would be good or bad, and he was afraid to find out.

Taking a breath, he called her anyway.

“Oz, great news. You’ve been approved,” Wendy Kerse said. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I got you an interest rate at a point lower than I originally quoted.”

“That’s . . . fantastic.” Oscar couldn’t speak for a few seconds as he processed this news. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll have the paperwork ready for you in an hour or so, so come in anytime and we’ll get everything signed. It should be a quick escrow so you’ll have the keys in thirty days. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Wendy.”

“Anytime.” There was a slight pause, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded a little softer. “Listen, if you’re here around noon, we could do the paperwork over lunch. The café right next door does a great tuna melt.”

“I . . .” Oscar was thrown. Was she suggesting a date? Wendy Kerse was a few years younger than he was, and quite attractive, and ordinarily he would have been interested. But his thoughts were still with Vanessa, and he had a feeling that if he was spotted out with the bank officer—something that was bound to happen—it would kill any chance of anything happening with the deputy chief.

“I’m sorry, I actually have a lunch meeting. But I can come near the end of the day, if that works.” He purposefully did not suggest having lunch at another time.

She got the hint. “Of course.” She spoke a little too quickly. “See you then.”

He hung up, and a moment later, a silly grin spread across his face.

Goddammit, he was about to own his own restaurant. Cuban and Spanish food, live music, an expanded patio for breezy summer dinners, maybe even a small dance floor—he could see it all in his head. El Mago would be the start of a new life.

He swiveled his chair to face the window, looking down at the park below. Was he finally ready to leave this place? He’d be walking away from a good salary, generous benefits, and a job he knew so well he could do it in his sleep. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Could he spend the next twenty years of his life at a job he could do without thinking?

His intercom buzzed.

“Good, you’re there,” Bianca said when he answered. Instantly, Oscar’s happy buzz faded. “I need to talk to you in my office. Now.”

“Can it wait?” he said. “I’m right about to—” There was no point in finishing his sentence. She’d hung up already.

Cursing, he stepped out of his office and into the main waiting area, where Jamie was seated at the reception desk. She looked up, her thick black-framed glasses perched at the tip of her nose.

“When did Bianca get in?” He kept his voice low.

“Just now.”

“What kind of mood is she in?”

Jamie rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses farther up her face. “The same mood she’s always in. Hurried and bossy, with a side of mildly annoyed.”

Oscar stifled a sigh. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Why does she want to see you?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

“Why would I know? She doesn’t tell me anything.” Jamie frowned. “Quit standing there and skedaddle. Or do you want to add ‘pissed off’ to the menu?”

She had a point. A few seconds later, Oscar was down the hall and at Bianca’s door.

The CEO was sitting on the small sofa near the far window, legs crossed primly, the view of Wonderland unobstructed behind her. Of course her office had the best view of the park, second only to her apartment on the top floor.

Not that he’d been inside her apartment for a while.

“Close the door, Oz.”

He did as he was told. “Everything okay?” he asked.

She directed him to sit, and he took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, as far away from her as possible. She always made him just a little bit nervous, although he supposed that was part of the attraction. But all that was in the past. Now there was someone new he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I just called Earl Schultz and got an update on the Homeless Harry case,” she said. “They’re still investigating, Oz.”

“Of course they are,” Oscar said. “It’s a homicide now.”

“And the Wonder Wheel Kid?” Bianca stared at him, her face unreadable. “They’re still investigating him, too. Earl’s been doing the best he can to deflect attention away from the park, but that’s getting harder to do considering their pictures are splashed all over the Internet.”

“Give it time.” He did his best to sound reassuring. “It’ll die down.”

“Once something’s on the Internet, it’s there forever.” The CEO’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Earl told me the new deputy chief’s been working on both cases. What’s your take on her?”

“I don’t know anything about her.” Oscar shifted slightly. Bianca knew nothing about his night with Vanessa, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. “Why would I?”

“You talked to her for a while the other day, didn’t you? When she was here at the park. What was your impression of her?”

“She’s . . .” Oscar thought hard, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “She’s very professional. She seems to know what she’s doing.”

“But the surveillance footage didn’t show anything, right?”

“I watched it before I handed it over. It just showed the Wonder Wheel kid climbing, that’s all.”

She exhaled. “I hate that PD has our hard drive. It makes me feel very . . . exposed.”

Only Bianca Bishop could take something like that personally.

“I had to give it to her,” Oscar said. “It’s best to cooperate, and she would have gotten a warrant, anyway.”

“I looked her up,” Bianca said. “She’s very attractive. Recently widowed. Two kids. New in town. I imagine she’s lonely. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you . . . befriended her. I’m sure you were your usual charming self when you met her, but why not invite her to lunch? Or dinner? You’re both single. Nothing wrong with that.”

Oscar frowned. “You trying to pimp me out?”

“Jesus Christ.” Bianca gave him a dirty look. “Don’t be so goddamned sensitive. I’m not saying you should fuck her. I’m saying, get closer to her. She probably doesn’t know many people here. She might appreciate the friendship, and we’d be able to keep tabs on how the Homeless Harry and the Wonder Wheel Kid investigations are progressing.”

“I thought Earl was keeping you informed.”

She pursed her lips. “Good old Earl seems to have taken a step back. He’s been slow returning my calls, and when we spoke earlier, he actually encouraged me to contact the new deputy chief directly. I understand he’s busy with all that city council revitalization bullshit, but I hate that I can’t rely on him to give me updates in real time right now. I have to wonder if he’s on his way out of the department. Did you know that the reason he hired Vanessa Castro is because she’s friends with Frank Greenberg?”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Apparently our mayor and her late husband were in the army together. Mayor Greenberg made it very clear to Earl that if he didn’t hire her, his job was in jeopardy. Talk about calling in a favor, since it seems like she left Seattle PD under some controversy. Apparently one of her old boyfriends is a drug dealer. And her husband might have killed himself, though the official report says he shot himself by accident. Which I suppose I understand; she does have kids. The stigma of suicide would be terrible.”

“Everyone has a past, B.” Oscar met Bianca’s gaze with a steady one of his own. “Even you.”

“I’m just saying. Get a little closer. It couldn’t hurt.”

Oscar sighed. He didn’t know why he was even bothering to argue; Bianca would push and push until she got him to agree. He could always save himself the trouble and just tell her that he already had a relationship—of sorts—with Vanessa, but for some reason, he was feeling extremely protective of whatever it was he had with the new deputy chief. And he didn’t want to tell Bianca about it because he didn’t want his former lover to belittle or diminish it, something she was likely to do.

Ironically, the last woman he’d felt this protective over was Bianca herself.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally said.

“Does she know I was here at the park that night?” Bianca asked.

Oscar shook his head. “I never mentioned it. To anyone.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” The CEO smiled. “Anyway, that’s not the only reason I wanted to speak to you. Here,” she said, handing him a letter-sized envelope. It must have been in her hand the whole time, but he hadn’t noticed it. “Surprise. You’ve earned it.”

Not understanding, Oscar took the sealed envelope and tore it open. Inside was a certified check made out to him, and the amount had four zeros attached. Nick Bishop’s signature scrawl was in the bottom right corner. He stared at it, completely confused. It was a signature he hadn’t seen in years. Everybody at Wonderland was paid electronically; they employed a team of accountants for that.

He looked up. “How is this—” he said, but Bianca cut him off.

“It’s a bonus,” she said. “I know our profits are a bit down, but that’s not your fault. Cash it, you’ve earned it. I know we could have done this electronically, but there’s such an air of ceremony in cashing a check, don’t you think? Besides, when you go to the bank and deposit your bonus in person, people will know the park is doing well, and we need for people to believe that. We’ve taken such a beating in the media lately.”

Oscar stared at her. Had she lost her mind? “I don’t understand,” he said.

“Come on, Oz.” Bianca tilted her head slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me. I was at the bank this morning. I know about the restaurant. Your loan was approved, wasn’t it?”

Fuck. Was nothing confidential in Seaside?
Oscar sat up straighter. “Yes, but I haven’t made any final decisions. I just thought it was worth exploring. I didn’t say I was actually going to do it. And if I did, it doesn’t mean I’d leave the park. It would be, you know, a side thing.”

As soon as he said the words, he knew it was a lie. He wanted out. He had never wanted out more than this moment.

He was so, so done.

“Oz, nobody understands more than I do what it’s like to have worked here for so long.” Bianca turned and looked at the view of Wonderland. “Over twenty years for you, nineteen for me. I was only seventeen when I started here. It was supposed to be a summer job. You think I thought I’d still be here almost two decades later, running this place? Sometimes I think the best thing to do would be to sell it.”

“Then sell it.”

Her gaze reverted back to him. “It’s always a possibility, Oz. Six Flags calls every year to see if we’re interested in making a deal, and I got word that Cedar Fair might be interested, too. I feel like any year could be our last year here at the park . . . at least the park as we know it. If a big corporation takes over, they won’t keep us. They’ll clean house and appoint a new management team. And then what would I do?”

She was unbelievable. Everything, as always, was all about her. “I’m sure you could work out a deal so that you, at least, could stay. If not, you’d move on to something else. As would I.”

“Doing what? I never went to college. The park is all I know.” Bianca’s voice was matter-of-fact. “You’re buying a restaurant, for god’s sake. That’s a full-time job, Oz. I went through this with Uncle Nick. I know an exit strategy when I see one.”

Oscar said nothing, because there was nothing he could say to that.

“But I’m not ready to leave yet,” she said. “Maybe one day, but not yet. And while I’m here, I want you to be here, with me. With Uncle Nick gone, I can’t do this by myself. You know how hard it is for me to admit that.”

Oscar again didn’t know what to say. Nothing he was thinking at the moment was anything he could share with her.

He had his secrets, she had hers.

They sat in silence for a moment. Looking out the window again, she reached up and unfastened her signature bun from its tight coil, allowing her auburn hair to spill over her shoulders in waves. Instantly it made her look years younger, not that she was old to begin with. At thirty-six, she was twelve years younger than Oscar, and very beautiful. People often didn’t notice how attractive she was because of her strict demeanor and the buttoned-up way she dressed and wore her hair.

Running her fingers through the strands, she massaged her scalp, the tension gradually easing out of her face. Her hair was almost waist length, something most people didn’t realize. She rarely allowed herself to be seen wearing it loose.

With the late-morning sun on her face, she looked vulnerable. And sad. He still felt affection when he looked at her, this hellion of a girl who’d agreed to work at the park only because her uncle talked her into it. He’d watched her grow up and mature, until that one crazy night when they’d discovered each other in a physically intimate way that had changed him forever.