do
you know about her? Do you know where she is?"
"No,
but I need to find her." Then I added for good measure, "I want to
help her. That's all. Just to find her and to help her."
She set
the drink down on the floor. Her head took a soft turn toward the window.
Outside, southbound traffic backed up on the interstate. Beyond that, the city
lay still in the winter chill.
She said,
"How do I know that?"
"You
don't. Her family wants to find her. They want to know that she's safe."
She ran a
hand through her hair, then she came back to the bed. Her body language was
more relaxed, as she sat next to me. She picked her drink up, but didn't take
any of it.
"We're
best friends." Her voice quickly moved to the edge of tears. "We used
to see each other nearly every night. You know, after we got done with our
dates. We'd go out for a drink, play a few slots, that kind of thing. We were
even neighbors over on Sierra Vista. Before she moved out."
"And
so?"
"It
was a few days ago. I called her cell and she didn't answer. I left one
message, then two, then a whole bunch, and … and … she never called me
back." The first tears showed themselves. I gave her a handkerchief.
"What
happened to her?"
"I
asked around. Nobody wanted to talk about it. But I kept asking."
"Did
you find out anything?"
"I
heard through the grapevine that one of her dates was, like, a senator or
congressman or something. Some kind of big shot. He saw her about once a week.
Right here at Bellagio, as a matter of fact. Then they had this big blow-up. I
don't know how it started, but Stormy told me she, like, threatened to tell his
wife. She even said she might go to the media, and tell them all about this
self-righteous son of a bitch. She even had a videotape of the two of them
together.
"A
videotape?"
"Right.
From one of those new mini-recorder things. She had a big purse and the camera
was inside it. She put the purse on a table across the room, then set it on its
side so the opening was facing the bed. The thing was deep in her purse so you
couldn't really see it. She turned the TV on to cover up the noise. He never
suspected a thing."
"Why
would she make that tape?"
"I
think she was planning on blackmailing him. She could be pretty conniving when
she wanted to be. Always looking for a way to put money in her pocket."
"Blackmail's
a pretty risky game."
"You
got that right. But apparently, this guy's a real hypocrite. You know, standing
up for family values and Christian beliefs, while keeping a paid mistress on
the side. One from an escort service, no less. He was into real kinky shit,
too, you know?"
She
sniffled a little, then put her drink down again to blow her nose. Then, she
picked up the drink and polished it off in one swallow.
"Where's
the videotape now?"
"She
gave it to me so no one would ever find it in her possession."
I had to
admit, Emily was one sharp cookie.
"So
what happened then?"
"I
don't know. That's when I … when I … lost touch with her."
"Does
Sonny know where she is?"
She shook
her head. "He asked me if I knew. He's looking for her, too. He really
wants to find her."
"Well,
what do you think happened?"
She blew
her nose again.
"I
don't know for sure, but if that politician told Sonny about it, there's no
telling what could've happened. Sonny's a … a … " Her face contorted into
crying position. A few more tears, then: "He slaps us around all the time.
He's capable of anything. Anything!" She finally went into a good cry.
I took
her in my arms, giving her my shoulder. She stayed there for a while. Then she
finally looked up at me to say through her sobs, "Do you really want to
help her? Really?"
"I
really do," I replied. And I meant it. I said, "Can you find out what
happened to her? Is there any chance?"
"I
don't know," she said between sniffles. "I can try."
"Do
that, honey. Please." I got a pen from the desk, then wrote my cell phone
number on a piece of scratch paper. "And call me when you find
Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci