When I reached my room, I reached straight for the black section of my wardrobe. It was my favorite color, but I didn’t wear solid black often as it made me look like a New Yorker wannabe. I pulled on a black skirt my mom had bought me in Taiwan. It was ankle-length, but very thin. I pulled on a matching black top, also bought in Taiwan. It bordered on see-through, but it was cute with its scooping neck and capped sleeves. The Taiwanese knew how to make clothing that kept you covered but also kept you cool—and they looked damn good, too. I twisted my shoulder-length hair into a bun and rimmed my ‘good’ eyes lightly with black kohl. I added a dark red lipstick that finished off the look. I pulled myself to my full height of five-feet five inches and gave myself the once-over. I grabbed a few accoutrements and stuffed them into a black bag. I declared myself done and went into the living room where Matt was watching SportsCenter.
“Damn, you look great,” Matt said admiringly, casing me up and down. “Do you have a broom to go with that outfit?”
“Very funny,” I said sourly, pursing my lips at him. I was in a foul mood at the prospect of talking to Kayla, and the last thing I needed was heckling from Matt. “I’m out of here.”
On the drive over, I plotted my plan of attack. I knew the only way to get Kayla to break was to go on the offensive. She was the type of woman who could thrust and parry all day long without tiring. I would have to jolt her out of her complacency in order to get anything useful out of her. I had a hunch that not only did she know who had taken her son, but she wasn’t all the eager to retrieve him. That wasn’t my intuition talking—just my gut. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that she wanted harm to come to Danny, but she was looking out for Number One. She had something to fear from the people who took Danny, and she had to make sure nothing happened to her while attempting to get him back.
I muttered a curse under my breath as I was nearly sideswiped by an SUV who was too fucking cool to use his side mirrors to change lanes, or, God forbid, signal. I blasted my horn as I wasn’t ruled by the inane concept of Minnesota Nice that dictated car horns were strictly for show. Although lately, that was slowly changing as more cases of road rage cropped up due to the changing demographics. The SUV driver glanced my way as I passed her, an embarrassed look on her face. She was yapping on her cell phone, of course, which was probably another reason she was driving like shit. Look, folks, it’s this simple. Most of you drive for shit when you’re doing nothing but driving. Adding a cell phone to the equation was just asking for trouble. There ought to be a law that cell phones can only be used for emergencies while driving. The only exception would be if the driver had a headset so she didn’t have to touch the phone.
“Wake up, Scar.” I heard an annoying buzzing in my ear which I tried to block out by placing a pillow over my head. “Come on, Scar. Get up.” There was shaking involved, and I was ready to seriously hurt whomever was rousing me from the land of sleep. “Scar! Get your ass out of bed this instant!” Someone was shrieking at me, and I didn’t appreciate it.
About a year ago, Kayla graduated from booze and an occasional pot-smoking to the harder stuff. She had been having a harder time getting through her sets at works, so her stripper friends introduced her to meth, which they said worked wonders. She didn’t like it much, but she liked the energy it gave her. She tried crack, heroin, and coke in rapid succession before deciding that coke was her drug of choice when she needed a little boost. She promised herself that it would just be an occasional thing, but she found herself increasingly agitated the days she didn’t use it. The customers looked seedier, her self-loathing was higher, and she was about ready to jump out of her skin. About three months ago, she started using daily along with the booze and a Valium to come down before sleeping. Somehow, she became hooked. Her words, not Matt’s. As if it serendipitously happened, as if she had no hand in it.
A horrible feeling washed over me. No, not that Danny was dead, but that Kayla knew exactly who had taken Danny and why. If she didn’t know for sure, she could make a pretty educated guess, but for some reason, she was choosing not to share. I knew that Matt was going to have to sweat her to get the information we needed, but I had a feeling that it was going to take a lot to get her to spill her guts. For some reason, and I wasn’t sure why, she was more afraid of telling what she knew than she was of losing her son. I knew Matt wasn’t going to like hearing that, but I couldn’t lie to him. This was too important for massaging egos and tiptoeing around hurtful truths. Matt was a big boy; he could take care of himself.
“Kayla, where the fuck are you?” He burst into her bedroom without knocking. Kayla was bending over something, her body hiding whatever it was. “Fuck it, Kayla!” Matt strode over to her and knocked her gear to the ground.
“Scarlett, thanks so much for doing this.” Kayla’s eyes were reddened as she greeted me, but that might be because of whatever she was on.
“This is pretty close,” Matt commented casually, not at all agitated as he would be if it were the Red Sox in the same jam. Nevertheless, he watched closely as Nathan struggled through Rodriguez’s at bat, falling behind three and one.
“You want spaghetti?” Matt called out to me as I watched the Twins get trounced by the hated Yankees. I didn’t answer because the Twins were mounting a mini-rally in the bottom of the fifth inning to pull within five. Matt Garza had better shape up in a hurry, or I was going to demand they ship him out. Hey, I knew he was only a rookie, but so what? This was the bigs, baby, so you better bring your big-league game. Too bad Liriano had to go on the disabled list.
“Dodo!” Mona shrieked, throwing her arms around me. “What happened? Mom said you were in some sort of trouble.”
I wondered why she was so mad at me as we had been getting along so famously before I made my move. Most likely she was starting to think that we were bonding or some ridiculous shit like that and took my escape as a rejection. Which was ridiculous, really, considering that she was going to kill me. Talk about the ultimate rejection. Then again, I didn’t think she was wrapped too tightly right now as evidenced by the high-speed chase. I had a feeling that the only thing on her mind was removing me from this earth, and it didn’t matter whom else she hurt while attempting to do so. I had a hunch she wouldn’t even care if she died as long as she took me with her. I pressed on the gas and sped up to ninety miles an hour. I was thankful that I was in my mother’s car and not mine because mine would never had withstood the pressure.