Grave Matters

The waitress laughed, once. 'Hey, you aren't dumb, are you?'

Sara laughed herself. 'Not very.'

'I mean, it ain't like Kathy was Queen Slut or anything…. It's just, when you got parent issues like that, when you're not under their thumb, away from the house? You kinda tend to cut loose. And did Kathy ever cut loose….'

'Funny. To hear her parents tell it, she spent all her time at her job, the blood bank, and school.'

'They don't know shit, do they? She was a good student-and at track? She was amazing. But she only volunteered at the blood bank about, oh…two hours a week? But she had her parents thinking she was there three or four hours, three nights a week.'

'Did she exaggerate her Habinero's hours to her folks?'

The waitress shook her head. 'No, she probably would've, but she couldn't, really. Mommy and Daddy, they came in here at least once a week-but always different days. They said they liked the food, but what they were doing was, they were checking up on her. You know, I haven't seen them once at this place, since she disappeared. So much for the food.'

'Tell me more about her 'complicated' social life, Abeja.'

'Well…sometimes her friends had to help her set up dates. Her folks really were freaks about her using the phone or meeting guys. She didn't even bother having a phone in her room-used a cell, but even there they limited her hours. And Kathy told me they monitored her e-mail.'

'Her friends helped her how?'

The young woman shrugged. 'They would talk to the guys for Kathy, set up times and places, then get the info to Kathy in a sort of code…and she would find a way to meet them.'

'A lot of guys?'

'Well, like I said, she would see two or three at the same time. Always some older dude for sure-daddy issues. You know, before she turned eighteen? The list of guys who coulda got in a statutory jam over Kathy…you don't even wanna think about it.'

'You know the name of the latest older dude?'

'No-but she had this new guy she was really having fun with.'

'Old or young?'

'I don't think she ever said.'

'You know his name?'

'Just FB-like in the note.'

Sara frowned in frustration. 'Anybody you can think of, guy here at the restaurant maybe, with initials like that?'

'Wouldn't matter, 'cause she never used their real names. You don't know the James Bond life she led, 'cause of those sick parents of hers…. Kathy and whatever friend set up the date always had a secret name for whoever the guy was.'

Sara sighed. 'Abeja, I don't mean to give you a hard time…but I can't understand how you could come to write a note about a person you don't even know.'

The young woman shrugged elaborately, and gestured with the photocopy of the note. 'Hey, this was from the day she disappeared! Well, technically, I guess, day before. But I wrote this on Saturday and she wasn't, like, really missing until Sunday.'

'Got it,' Sara said. 'So what happened Saturday?'

'Janie…she's a friend of Kathy's? And I kind of know her and stuff, well, she came in and was looking for Kathy, only Kathy was just working the lunch rush, 'cause she had a babysitting gig that night. Anyway, Janie came in early, like right after we opened at eleven. She had set up a date for Kathy after babysitting-that's the 0100 in the note, one A.M.? The reference to 'your place' wasn't Kathy's house, but where they picked out they were going to meet.'

'Was that always the same?'

'No, Kathy liked to move it around, you know, just in case her parents were on to her somehow-they'd never be able to stake out just one place.'

Sara asked, 'But did she have a favorite spot?'

Abeja nodded. 'There was this convenience store out in Pahrump she liked? And I know she met the dudes there, sometimes. She could park her car there, and know it would be safe if they went somewhere in the guy's car.'

Sara was nodding. 'All right. So this Janie came in Saturday, early. Does she have a last name?'

'Glover. Janie Glover. Doesn't work here at Habinero's, just knew she could find Kathy here.'

'I see.'

'Yeah, anyway, Janie stops by and Kathy isn't here yet. Janie has to go, I don't remember why, and she just gives me the message and I write it down on my order pad to give to Kathy when she comes in.'

'Which you did?'

'Which I did.'

A tall, well-built Hispanic man strode out into the parking lot, looking around, then spotted Sara and the waitress.

'Oh, hell,' the young woman said, stubbing out the second cigarette. 'That's Pablo-my boss! He's probably coming to tear me a new one.' She stuffed the note back into Sara's hand.

Pablo-in a white open-neck shirt and black slacks with black sports jacket, to distinguish himself from the waiters-looked displeased. His straight black hair was swept back and he had a full, black mustache; he was maybe forty.

'Shawna,' he said, noticeably not using the affectionate nickname, 'this is an unscheduled break, and Sherry says it's already longer than any scheduled break! If you and your friend-'

Sara stepped up and displayed her ID. 'Las Vegas Crime Lab. Talking to Shawna about the disappearance of your employee, Kathy Dean.'

Pablo stopped cold and his surly expression dissolved into a somber one. He crossed himself. 'Kathy-such a nice girl. If there's anything we can do to help….'

'I'm just curious,' Sara said. 'What kind of employee was Kathy?'

Taking this opportunity to make a different kind of break, Shawna scurried back inside the restaurant.

Pablo seemed on the verge of tears himself. 'The best employee. Smart, hardworking, pleasant…'

Sara immediately wondered if she might be talking to one of the succession of 'older dudes' with whom Kathy had worked out her 'daddy issues'….

'Kathy and that one,' Pablo was saying, pointing toward where Shawna/Abeja had disappeared, 'they're my two best girls. Detective Sidle…?'

'CSI Sidle. Yes?'

'Will you find the animal that did this thing?'

Sara nodded. 'We'll find him. And cage him.'

'Good,' Pablo said, his voice icy. 'So many bad people live long lives. For Azucar to die so young? There's no justice.'

'Actually, sometimes there is,' Sara said, and asked the manager if they could talk in his office.

Brass waited while the young greeter, Jimmy Doyle, knocked at his boss's closed office door.

'Yes?' came a voice from within.

'Mr. Black,' the assistant said, edging the door open, 'that detective is here to see you again-'

Brass pushed past Doyle, saying, 'Thanks son,' and then closed the door on the boy's wide-eyed expression.

The mortician rose behind the big uncluttered desk. His face was dark red with rage. 'Captain Brass-this is outright harassment!'

Helping himself to a client chair, a mildly smiling Brass crossed a leg and said, 'Might be considered harassment…if you'd ever bothered to tell us the truth at any point during this investigation.'

The mortician leaned his hands on the desk. His angry expression remained, but his shaky voice conveyed