Jack had his back turned when the manager came out.
“Can I help?”
Jack cast a glance over his shoulder. The woman was a long-haired brunette, wearing glasses, and dressed impeccably. Everything about her screamed class. She turned her nose up at him as if he was some bum off the street. He already thought she wouldn’t help him but looks could be deceiving.
“A close member of my family went missing about a week ago. She was last seen here at the Plaza.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I noticed you had CCTV cameras outside. How long do you keep your footage before overwrite?”
“Thirty days.”
“Listen, I know this is going to sound like a strange request but would you mind if I go through the footage? If I can just—”
“Do you work for the police?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then I can’t do that. Speak to the police.”
She turned to leave.
“Please, I’ll pay. Good money.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a wad of cash.
She glanced at it and looked back at him, then raised a finger and excused herself. Jack remained for a few seconds, unsure if she had gone out to make a copy of the recording. While waiting he walked the full length of the room and then leaned over the counter and saw the manager on the phone. As soon as she saw him she slammed the phone down. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Who did you call?”
“I need you to leave.”
His hand slipped to the small of his back.
For a split second he thought of doing what he would have done in the past but as he was expecting to stay in Santa Fe for a while, and he didn’t want to bring trouble down on Tyson, he opted to leave without causing a scene. There were other ways. Outside he crossed back into the Plaza, glancing over his shoulder at the jewelry shop. The manager stared at him out of the double doors so he darted into the bustling marketplace. Satisfied he was out of sight, he slipped between booths and down an alley then doubled around the building to find out who she’d called. Sure enough once he had the store in sight a cop car was stationed outside. She must have got spooked and thought he was a criminal intent on robbing the place. Jack sighed, glanced at his watch and walked away from the Plaza. He wasn’t meant to be meeting Tyson there for another hour, by then he hoped the cops would be gone.
To avoid trouble he stayed off the street and visited a few art galleries. Had Dana been here? She loved art and took every opportunity to take it in.
In New York he would have known where to go, what doors to bang on, who to contact to find out where she’d gone but here he felt like a small fish in a large ocean. Fourteen months away from what he did for a living had made him rusty. Had he lost the edge?
When Jack returned to the Plaza later that day he was much more cautious. He saw Tyson standing by the monument doing a 360-degree turn wondering where he was. The problem was the cops weren’t gone. The cruiser was still parked outside the jewelry store. Thinking fast he gestured for a group of ragtag kids in a park to come over. Jack hunched over and gave one of them a twenty-dollar bill and told him to take a message over to Tyson if he wanted another. The looks on their young faces were priceless. It was probably more money than they made in a few months hustling tourists for photos. They would offer to take a photo and then after ask for a donation. It was a clever act that sometimes paid well. New York ghetto kids had been doing it for years. They shot off at lightning speed, returning with Tyson and their hands out a minute later.
He paid the kids off, and they set off for Cosmo’s place.
Along the way he brought him up to speed on his attempt to find footage of the area. His desperation to get a lead, anything that might bring her back was beginning to cloud his judgment.
“What the hell? Jack, you can’t be flashing that kind of money around here. The cops are as dirty as they come. They’ll take the cash, shoot you and bury you in a shallow grave on the outskirts of town. Besides, there’s no need, Cosmo is a whiz when it comes to this kind of shit. You’ll see.”
Upon their arrival at Cosmo’s, he beckoned them into his apartment. It was a squalor of a place. A one-bedroom hole in the wall with a bathroom that hadn’t seen a cleaning cloth in years, and reeked of piss. The living room was set up like a NASA control room. He had two computers, three servers, three monitors and a desk stacked with all manner of electronic equipment. The kitchen was open and extended into his living area. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, as was the garbage can. An open box of pizza was on the counter, with two moldy slices inside, and there were bags full of empty wine bottles, and beer cans. Without asking them if they wanted a drink he went over to the fridge and grabbed out a couple of Buds, tossed them over and plunked himself down in front of his computer. Immediately to his right was a well-used bong, and a large doobie.
“Photos are over there,” he said, pointing to a printer. Jack scooped up a large number of missing person flyers. He had Dana’s name at the top, some brief information on where she was last seen and what she was wearing, and a close-up shot of her taken from the video. “Right now on to the good shit. First, who is this chick?”
Jack glared at him.
“Cosmo, just tell us what you found.”
“On
