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“You recognize it?” Ty asked.
He studied Amy-Rose’s body again, and then he looked at the photos of Lily Hayes and Dahlia Anderson. “The older work looks like Smoothy’s hand. Can I show it to Buzz?”
“Sure.”
“Hold on.” He walked out of the room.
“Smoothy. Do these people have real names?” Ty asked. “I’m gonna start calling you something. I need to think on it.”
“I’m gonna call you Windbag.”
Ty grinned and tried it on for size. “Windbag. I like it.”
“You have no shame.” Owen laughed, and Tweak returned with a guy who was as inked as he was; even his bald head was covered in a skull. Not exactly clever, but it worked for the dude.
Buzz inspected the photos. “Smoothy left one of his albums here. Hold up.” He left, then returned. “Yeah. Check this out.” He pointed to a page full of roses. “Looks the same, no doubt.”
“What about this one?” Ty showed the photo of Lily’s unicorn with the flowers coming out of the mouth.
“Oh yeah, that’s him. His signature’s on it. Barely but it’s there. That’s why he got fired. He was putting his brand on the tats, hidden, but one of the girls noticed it embedded and had a meltdown. He’s been gone a year now maybe?”
“Name?” Ty asked.
They shrugged. “We called him Smoothy because he didn’t have a single piece of work on his body. Nowhere. That’s odd for an inker.”
“Does anyone know his real name?”
Ty’s earlier vibes were being confirmed. This was a cash-under-the-table kind of place, with who knew what all going on in back rooms. Maybe drugs changing hands. They were definitely smoking pot. And it was still illegal in North Carolina.
“Maybe Tarique does, but probably not.” Tweak and Buzz exchanged a knowing look. This place was not on the up and up, which meant he likely didn’t care about names or licenses to tat.
“Can you draw him?”
“I’m not a sketch artist. I don’t do portraits,” Tweak said.
“Neither do I. But Pimp does. I can have him do it when he comes in and text it to you. Probably be this Saturday. That work?” Buzz said.
It would have to do. “Sure. Can you show me the embedded signature on both tattoos?”
Buzz brought the magnifier down and grabbed a pencil. Using the tip, he showed them a faint little picture within a picture. It wasn’t visible upon first glance. It was like focusing on a stereogram. Once it came into focus, it couldn’t be unseen.
Ty recognized the signature brand.
It was a small cross with dogwood flowers in the center.
The Family of Glory’s logo.
Blue Harbor
Bexley’s Hemmingway’s home
Tuesday, September 4
8:44 p.m.
Bexley nestled on the couch and yawned more out of emotional exhaustion than the physical need to sleep. Every day Ahnah was gone was another day Bexley feared the worst. She’d gone back through Ahnah’s room and called every number that had been marked somewhere, which had turned out to only be three numbers, but no one knew a thing.
She’d driven to all Ahnah’s favorite places—again—and repeated the same questions she had before, and was given the same answers. What else could she do?
