Strike (Gentry Generations) Read online

  I was backing away from the bar and wiping my wet hands on my pants with my mind careening in a million different directions when Dalton appeared. He stopped and his face grew puzzled at the sight of me but that was probably because I looked weird.

  “Found it,” he said, handing me the bottle.

  I wiped my hands on my pants once more. Carmen’s driver’s license – sturdy, plastic, undamaged by exposure to the lake – felt like it was burning a hole in my back pocket.

  Of course the feeling was my imagination. Yet the object was real.

  My voice sounded artificial, fake when I told Dalton I needed to get back. He was disappointed when I said I couldn’t have dinner with him and for a second I nearly blurted out the truth.

  But I didn’t know what the truth was.

  I had identification belonging to a possible missing woman in my pocket, a woman who might have been stirring up trouble, a woman who had apparently worked here for a time, if George Atwater had all his information correct.

  “No kiss goodbye?” Dalton said and I tipped my face up to meet his lips. It was only the stingiest of kisses. I knew if I lingered for another moment then he’d be able to tell something was wrong.

  Dalton had told me he’d never heard of a woman named Carmen. He’d answered without hesitation when I asked and his gaze never wavered. Maybe that was the truth. Or maybe there were still some important questions that needed to be asked. I remembered the brief conversation with Uncle Deck weeks earlier, when he’d offered a very prophetic piece of advice.

  “Be careful when it comes to what questions you ask and who you ask them to.”

  “Not sure I understand.”

  “Some people have secrets they’ll do anything to keep. And the sound of a question can remind them of that.”

  Cradling the bottle of wine I practically ran out of Aqua Room. It was a good thing no one was in my path as I drove wildly back to Blue Rain Spa because I wasn’t really exercising caution. I hurled the wine bottle into Eleanor’s anxious arms and stammered that I wasn’t feeling very well. Eleanor’s face immediately softened to sympathy and she told me that I ought to go lie down in one of the empty spa rooms. She would get Holly to cover the front desk for a little while.

  I did close myself inside one of the empty spa rooms but I didn’t lie down on the massage table. I pulled out my phone and Carmen’s driver’s license. I stared at them both. Carmen Carerra was pretty with luminous brown eyes and hair as black as raven’s feathers. She looked younger than her thirty-one years, although the picture on the license could have been taken years ago. I stared at her face until my eyes started to blur. I’d seen her before. She was wearing heavy makeup and a red dress but I was sure the woman in my mind was the same one. I just couldn’t place her in a location. I wasn’t even sure if it was here at the resort.

  Music was piped into the spa rooms, the dreamy new age kind that I could imagine falling asleep to. The volume was low but it was enough to drown out my voice as long as I didn’t speak too loudly. I found George Atwater in my list of contacts and pressed the call button, not really expecting him to pick up.

  “Atwater here,” he said gruffly.

  “George, this is Camille Gentry. I’m really sorry to bother you but I need to ask you a few questions about Carmen Carerra.”

  There was a long pause. He didn’t sound surprised when he did answer. Only cautious. “I’ll do my best to answer them as long as we can agree this conversation, like our last one, is off the record.”

  “Understood.” I swallowed thickly. Carmen’s face was in my palm. I turned it over. “Do you know what kind of work Carmen was doing here at Wild Spring? Was she doing something administrative, or maybe working as a waitress in one of the restaurants?”

  The question was hopeful. I was afraid of the answer.

  “Carmen is a singer,” George said. “A good one. She’s been performing for years at clubs around the valley. She was hired at Aqua Room to sing twice a week.”

  “Aqua Room,” I echoed. “She was hired at Aqua Room.”

  I remembered Dalton’s words the day we met, the day he assumed I was here to interview for a position at his club.

  “I make it a point to personally interview every applicant….”

  Suddenly my claim about feeling unwell wasn’t a lie. I leaned against the massage table for support. “How long has it been since anyone has heard from her?”

  “According to her roommate it’ll be a month on the twenty fifth.”

  My mind flipped backwards through dates. I remembered that day. It stuck in my mind because it was the day Cassie and I had our disastrous visit to Aqua Room. And then in an instant I knew where I had seen Carmen. She’d been leaning against the bar when Cassie and I sat down. She glanced our way but said nothing. Maybe she was singing that night and I just hadn’t caught her performance because Cassie and I left early after the whole Ivan fiasco.

  Recalling all of this reminded me that there were a number of unsavory characters that hung around the club. It would be tough to guess which of them, if any, had some connection to Carmen.

  I took a deep breath. “I know this will be a sensitive question but is there any way you can tell me who or what Carmen was investigating here at Wild Spring?”

  The answer was a long time coming. “Carmen had sent me some of her early notes. You must understand I cannot detail their contents for you.”

  “Of course,” I mumbled.

  “However,” he said and I got the feeling he was choosing his words extremely carefully, “you might take interest in the fact that Congressman Anders is a rather high level investor with Sullivan Enterprises.”

  The puzzle pieces were starting to click together. “I guess that explains why he’s here all the time.”

  “Is he? That’s interesting, especially since he is now running for governor. I wonder what he does with his time there.”

  George Atwater’s voice was vague, as if he was thinking aloud, but I would bet the contents of my meager bank account that he knew much more than he was willing to say.

  “Do you wonder the same thing, Camille?” he asked.

  It was all connected; Carmen, the Congressman, the powerful Sullivan Enterprises, maybe even Debra Martinez. All mixed up in some kind of sordid shuffle that remained unclear. And how was Dalton involved?

  I closed my eyes. “Yes, sir. I do wonder.”

  It didn’t take much to convince Eleanor I was too sick to finish out my shift. A glance in the bathroom mirror showed me how pale my face was and even though I wasn’t shaking on the outside, I was a mess inside. I left Wild Spring without talking to Dalton and as I reached the main road I wasn’t even sure where I was going. I was too keyed up to go sit at home and stew over things I didn’t quite understand.

  No, I needed to sort this out before deciding what my next move should be. I needed advice. And luckily I knew where to find it.

  My father and his cousin, Deck Gentry, opened up the famous tattoo parlor, Scratch, shortly after Cassie and I were born. It was the largest establishment of its kind in the southwest and had even been featured on a few television segments. The clientele ranged from giggling sorority girls from the nearby university to hardcore bikers who rode all the way here from hardscrabble places like Emblem, the dusty prison town where the Gentrys originated.

  The front desk receptionist greeted me with enthusiasm. Her name was Aspen and she’d been working here since I was a kid. Most of Scratch’s employees were long term since they were always treated right. And as Scratch’s fame grew, so did its business so there was never a shortage of work. When my internship fell through I knew my father would have been glad to scrounge up some administrative work for me to do here even if he didn’t really need the help but I didn’t want to put him in that position.

  “You looking for your dad?” Aspen asked. “I think he’s in with a client but you’re always welcome to wait in his office.”

  “Actually, I’m looki
ng for my Uncle Deck.”

  “Oh, he’s out all week. He took Jenny and Izzy to a beach house on Balboa Island and they won’t be back until after the weekend.”

  “Damn, that’s right.”

  I remembered now. My mother had mentioned the trip because my sisters and I had been invited to accompany them. But since Cassie and I were working and Cadence was doing whatever Cadence did these days we didn’t go along.

  “I sure wish I was at the beach right about now,” Aspen laughed and I managed a weak smile.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “You okay, Cami? You look a little upset.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just the heat. I should get going.”

  She was puzzled. “You sure you don’t want to stick around for a few minutes and see your dad?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll catch up with him at home.”

  I escaped before Aspen could ask me any more questions.

  Or worse, before my father discovered me there.

  Because with the way I was feeling I might just run to him and weep like a little girl who just found out Santa Claus isn’t real and all dogs probably do not go to heaven.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Camille

  Six hours after I left the lobby of Scratch, Cassie watched me as I got dressed in our bedroom.

  “Did you and Dalton have a fight?” She asked the question from her yoga pose on the floor.

  “No. Why would I be going down to Aqua Room tonight if we had a fight?”

  Dalton had been surprised but pleased when I texted him to say I was going to stop by the club tonight. I felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that he wouldn’t be so excited if he knew why I was really coming. I couldn’t really believe he had anything to do with Carmen’s disappearance but there were a few questions he needed to answer. And since I knew Griffin Sullivan was also going to be there I planned to corner him for a chat as well.

  None of this had been mentioned to Cassie. Or to anyone else.

  “You seem kind of off,” Cassie said, bending her body into a downward dog position.

  “I had too much caffeine today.” I stared at myself critically in the mirror, applied a dash of lipstick and grabbed my purse. Carmen’s driver’s license was inside. I knew I ought to turn it over to the police but according to George Atwater the police had been rather dismissive of any concerns regarding Carmen. I wanted to hand over something a little more enlightening than an ID that had been dropped in a lake at an unknown time.

  “Going out?” my father asked from the couch when I tried to quietly exit the front door.

  I tried to sound casual. “For a little while. I won’t be gone long.”

  He shrugged and turned the television off. He’d been watching one of those house flipping shows, which meant he probably wasn’t watching it at all. “I was just asking. You know you don’t have a curfew, Cams.”

  I did know that but it had always seemed like a technicality. Coming home always made me feel like a kid eager to please her parents and this summer was no exception.

  “Where’s Mom?” I asked him.

  “In her writer’s cave. I heard you stopped by the shop today.”

  “I just wanted to say hi.”

  Cordero Gentry had such penetrating blue eyes, like his brothers. When they zeroed in on you, you were sure they didn’t miss much. “Aspen said you were asking to talk to Deck.”

  “It’s not important.”

  He nodded but I could tell he didn’t believe me. His fingers moved on his broad knee, like he was absently sketching. He often did that when he was thinking. Half the time he probably didn’t even realize it.

  “I’m here, Camille,” he told me seriously. “I hope you and your sisters never forget that no matter what happens or how old you get, I’m still your daddy. And I’ll always be here for you.”

  I had to turn toward the door because if I didn’t he’d see the tears in my eyes. “I know, Dad. I never doubted it.”

  “You drive safe,” he said with a sigh. He let me walk out of the house.

  Then again, he didn’t really have a choice. It occurred to me that was both the prize and punishment of being a parent, the fact that your children were destined to grow up.

  When I reached Wild Spring I didn’t want to deal with the Aqua Room valet so I parked in a neighboring lot and walked over. It was dark but I wasn’t afraid. The resort was well lit at night and I was only a hundred yards from Aqua Room’s entrance. But the sudden splash on my right made me jump. It was followed by a rather angry quack and a pair of birds took flight into the night. I watched their silhouettes disappear into the inky blackness. There was no moon tonight. The stars were especially brilliant. I thought of a night beside another lake. I thought of lying on my back and marveling over the impassive sky as Dalton moved above me, inside of me. I thought of the way I clutched his strong arms and cried out when I came and how he held me afterwards.

  “I have known the stars too well to be fearful of the night.”

  Shrill laughter echoed across the lake and I stopped to look toward the opposite bank. I saw nothing but shadowy brush. The lake was small, shallow and murky. It had been designed as a resort feature. It was fake, filled in with water transported from the Colorado River. I wondered if Carmen had stood right where I was standing. I wondered where she was now.

  I was about to move on when I heard something. A woman was sobbing. The sound was faint, haunting, but it wasn’t my imagination.

  “Baby, don’t cry.” A man’s voice, pleading.

  “Stop it,” was the response, raw and agonized. “I can’t.”

  A figure careened out of the darkness and nearly collided with me on the path. She was barefoot and her arm covered her eyes as she choked on her own sobs. The light was adequate enough in this spot to see clearly. If she had looked up she probably would have recognized me the way I recognized her. But she didn’t look up and she didn’t stop running even though her feet must have been getting cut up by the gravel as she veered away from the path in favor of a more direct route to the main resort building.

  “Shit,” sighed the man and he stepped away from the darkness. He must have been standing near the water’s edge. He flinched when he saw me standing there staring at him. After dipping his head slightly in wary acknowledgement he started to walk in the direction of the club.

  “Congressman Anders,” I called.

  He stopped in his tracks.

  I crossed the distance between us and he slowly turned around.

  “You probably don’t remember me,” I said. “I interviewed you for my high school newspaper. It was five years ago, in your downtown office.”

  He seemed to relax. He even flashed his customary politician grin, probably figuring he’d just happened to run into an admiring constituent in the dark beside the lake just after he’d done something to make a woman cry.

  “I thought you looked familiar,” he said and I didn’t know if that was bullshit or not. In any case I didn’t miss the way his eyes swept over my body as his grin widened. “What was your name again?”

  I pointedly crossed my arms over my breasts, a silent rebuke meant to say ‘Fuck you for looking’. “I’m Camille Gentry.”

  “Right,” he nodded although I was pretty sure the name meant less than nothing to him. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Camille. Are you headed to the club? You’re welcome to join my table for a drink.”

  Being out here with him gave me the creeps but I wasn’t about to let him scurry away unchallenged. “That sounds nice,” I said. “We can talk about your campaign for governor. Oh, and we can also talk about Deb Martin, the woman who just ran away in tears, the one I’ve seen you with around the resort. In high school her name was Debra Martinez.”

  His smile had disappeared. His eyes were cold now. I was no longer some sexy fan who would hang on his every word. I was a threat.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” he said icily. “You must be mistaken. And my party is
awaiting my return.”

  Anders could move fast when he wanted to. He reached the Aqua Room red carpet before I took three steps. Several figures in dark suits, Anders’ bodyguards, must have been hanging back and watching. The men materialized out of nowhere and they all proceeded indoors together.

  “Can I help you?” said the bitchy Annabella at the door although I could tell from the narrowing of her eyes that she remembered me very well.

  “My name is Cami Gentry,” I said, prepared to read her the riot act if she refused to let me in. “I’m here to see Dalton Tremaine and if you don’t let me pass immediately I promise you he will want to know why.”

  Annabella’s lip curled but she gave the nod that allowed the doorman, good old Granite Face, to stand aside and open the door.

  Aqua Room was crowded, more so than the last time I was here. But the beautiful surroundings and the beautiful people no longer looked beautiful to me. It all seemed like a façade, or like one of those shiny gold circles you eagerly scratch off with your fingernail only to receive the bad news that no, you are not a winner. This wasn’t a place I wanted to be.

  Then I saw Dalton. He was on the other side of the room and he spotted me in the same instant. His face was lit up with the kind of smile that always made my heart do a peculiar little dance because I knew it was for me, that smile.

  I lifted my hand to wave to him but the gesture died in midair because ten feet away Jeff Anders, United States Congressman, was sitting at a table quietly talking to Griffin Sullivan. Griffin was nodding over whatever he was being told. I stared at the two men, thinking about all the pieces still missing from the puzzle I’d started to put together earlier while on the phone with George Atwater. I might not get another chance to search for the rest of those pieces.

  “Carmen Carerra,” I said loudly, thinking the music would come to an abrupt halt and everyone would stop and turn. Instead only a few people glanced at me with curiosity. Dalton was still making his way over but he stopped and stared, the smile disappearing from his face.