Silent City Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Though, I can’t say I really know what this is about.”
    “Thanks for coming. I appreciate it.” Chaz’s eyes were tired and empty. Pete could still smell whiskey on his breath. “At this point, I feel like I need to take any help I can get.”
    “Well, what can I do?” Pete said. “I don’t really know Kathy that well. So, she’s missing?”
    “I don’t really know. She was fine a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t seen her since.”
    “Well, OK. How does that mean she’s missing?” Pete asked. “Has she been to work?”
    “I only realized she was gone yesterday,” Chaz explained. He trailed off a bit as the bartender served his beer. He took a hungry gulp. Most of the beer was finished with one lift. Pete felt like he was getting a glimpse of what he might look like in 30 years. Or was he just being melodramatic? Chaz closed his eyes for a second and then looked at Pete. “Sorry. It’s hot as fuck outside. I hate this city. Even at night it’s hot. No breeze, just heat, sweat, and smell. Too much. It’s too much sometimes.”
    “I guess,” Pete said. He looked up at one of the muted TV screens. Repeats of the evening news. A gator found in Homestead. He’d have to call Emily to see if it had crawled through her yard. Or not, he thought. Pete could already hear her laughing on the other end of the line.
    Chaz slid a finger over his glass. He didn’t respond.
    “Why don’t you go to the cops?” Pete asked.
    “The cops don’t think she’s missing.”
    “Doesn’t that count for something?”
    “They think that she’s just not talking to me, since we don’t have much of a relationship.” Chaz looked away from Pete and finished his beer in one pull.
    “Maybe she’s on vacation? I don’t know,” Pete shrugged. His buzz was fading and he was getting bored.
    “She’s been off my radar for a few weeks. She usually calls once a week, on Sundays,” Chaz said. “To chat, to say hello, to ask for money. The usual routine. The last time we talked she sounded frazzled. Just…I dunno…off. She’s been seeing this guy, Javier.”
    “Javier what?”
    “Reyes. You know him, right?”
    “Yeah, I know him. We went to high school together,” Pete said. He hadn’t thought of Javier in years. He vaguely remembered Emily or Mike mentioning something about Javier and Kathy. The few times Pete had hung out while Kathy was around, the topic of Javier never came up. Neither did her having a boyfriend. He felt slightly disheartened to discover she wasn’t single. Javier and Pete had run together in high school, back when Pete wasn’t much more than a wannabe street thug—petty theft, minor dealing. If it hadn’t been for Pete’s dad and his discipline, he’d more than likely be doing time or struggling to get back on his feet after doing time.
    “Early thirties—about your age. Kind of a smartass. Acts like he’s hot shit but still talks like he’d just pulled his raft off the beach. Has the same ‘¿Que Pasa USA?’ accent all those new Mexicans or Cubans have.” Chaz stopped himself, realizing he was drunk and not in control of his tongue. “Aw shit, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Pete sighed and slid his empty glass toward the bartender. His system could probably handle one more. But his patience was wearing thin. This was going nowhere. He still felt the residual pounding of the morning’s hangover.
    The proverbial collision of two worlds—his misspent youth and his misspent present—had taken him by surprise. Of all places to find Javier, he would have never expected it’d be at the Abbey with Chaz Bentley.
    “So they were dating?” Pete was surprised at the directness of his own question.
    “I guess so,” Chaz muttered. “They’re always together when she comes over, all wide-eyed and chatty, hopped up on who-knows-what.”
    Pete scratched his chin, rubbing against his four-day stubble. The bartender poured him another. He closed his eyes