Page 43 of Jasmine Street Blues

Sonny leaned forward and squinted for a better look. “I don’t know her. Sorry.” He started to close the door but Mac placed one big booted foot in the way.

“I know you recognize her,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Don’t bullshit me. Don’t make me take you down to the station for a formal interview.”

Sonny sighed, then said, “Well, shit. Come on in, I guess.”

He offered them both coffee. What was it with these people and coffee? Mac refused, too.

At Sonny’s insistence, the three of them sat at a wooden kitchen table. He kept both hands on his coffee mug. A few dishes were stacked in the sink, but for the most part Sonny kept his small home neat and clean. Like Mac, he had no art on the walls. That was something Loran always noticed.

“Carrie worked for you, I hear,” Mac said. It was amazing that he managed to keep his tone so even.

Sonny relented. “Fine, yes, she worked for me for a while. Not for long and she did her best to stay out of sight. She was skittish, especially at first. Mostly I let her handle phone calls and clean out the shop, but after she’d been here a while she did go on a few jobs with me, when I needed a hand. She picked up a couple of odd jobs here and there, too, but she did her best to stay out of the spotlight. She babysat for a couple of my regular customers, now and then.”

Which was why Brant had recognized her.

“Did you touch her?” Mac growled.

Sonny didn’t look frightened by the question. He was insulted and angry. “Hell no! She was just a kid. She said she was eighteen, but I didn’t believe her.”

“Then why did you hire her?”

Sonny stood. “When Carrie came here looking for work she was a kid in trouble. I saw it in her. Reminded me of my little sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sonny said sharply. “She died years ago.”

Was there really a dead sister? There was no way to know, not in this moment. Could be a play for sympathy, a deflection. Looking at the handyman’s expression, Loran didn’t think that was the case.

“Look,” Sonny continued, “Carrie was afraid of something, but she’d never tell me what. She did mention an asshole stepfather once, and it was obvious she was terrified of him. She started to tell me why, then clammed up. The look on her face…” He shook his head. “From the start it was clear something was going on, so I paid Carrie cash and found her a decent room to rent from a landlord who didn’t ask too many questions. She made a little extra money babysitting for a couple of my regular customers. They all liked her. I thought she’d stay a while, relax, maybe open up about what brought her here. But one day she was just gone. I have no idea what spooked her. When you showed up a couple months later with a photo of a child who was obviously Carrie, I assumed you were the asshole stepfather. Am I wrong?”

Mac went white. He had no answer for that, nothing to say.

It was Loran who said, “Thank you for helping her when she needed it.”

Mac remained silent. She could only imagine how it hit him to hear that Carrie had been running from him.

“She was a good kid,” Sonny said as he reclaimed his seat. “Smart, too. I tried to convince her to enroll in school, but she couldn’t do that, not without an ID and a parent or guardian. After she’d been here for a couple of months she dumped her cell phone. She said it would be too easy to track her, even though she didn’t have an active plan any more. She just kept it for pictures, and some music she’d downloaded. I guess in an emergency she could call 9-1-1.”

Color came back to Mac’s cheeks. He took a deep breath, before he said, “I appreciate all you did for Carrie. Sorry if I came on too strong, but I’ve been worried about her.”

“Are you, now?” Sonny asked with more attitude than was necessary. Apology or not, he’d had enough.

The two men sized each other up, in that way men sometimes did.

“I’ve been looking for her for five years,” Mac said. “All I want to do is make sure she’s safe.”

Sonny relaxed. His expression softened. He took a long moment before he finally said, “I did get a postcard from her, a while back.”

“Why didn’t you mention that sooner?” Mac bellowed.

Sonny lifted a silencing hand. “Whoa. I spent months helping Carrie, keeping her safe. I didn’t see any reason to stop now, not until… not until I was sure you weren’t a danger to her.”

“I would never hurt her,” Mac said.

“I can see that, now.” Sonny stood, turned, and walked to a kitchen drawer. Even from her vantage point Loran could see that it was the universal kitchen junk drawer, the kind almost everyone had.

Unless they moved frequently, the way she did. A woman on the run didn’t have time to collect enough stuff to fill a drawer. Why did she suddenly long for her own junk drawer?