The Timer Game. Susan Smith Arnout

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СКАЧАТЬ He frowned and shifted gears.

      ‘Wait. You’re the one we sent to Guatemala, right? From the parish. We were in Portugal that year. We heard she died over there. Sister Mary Clare.’

      ‘Yeah. Yeah, she did.’ The bad things crowded into her mind, fresh from their naps and grinning, wanting to play.

      ‘We heard there was a fire.’

      A bad thing bared its blunt teeth and cocked its shaggy head, and Grace could feel the whiff of its breath on her face. Her heart was starting to hammer. She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to find her quiet place, quiet the demons.

      ‘We heard you were going to be a heart doctor. Work with kids. Then you quit.’

      Grace studied her hands and looked up. ‘Mr. Esguio, I’m sorry about your van. They have to process it for prints and –’

      ‘That doesn’t take two years.’

      The waitress put down the plates. Esguio gazed longingly at her French toast.

      ‘No, but when something’s been used in the commission of a felony, when somebody’s been murdered and that was the vehicle used to transport the suspect …’

      Esguio watched as she poured syrup, a slow dawning growing across his face. He looked pained. ‘I’m never going to see that van again in my lifetime, am I?’

      ‘Probably not.’ Grace shoveled in a forkful of food and washed it down with orange juice. ‘Mr. Esguio, somebody bad is after me. Somebody Eddie knew.’

      ‘No kidding,’ Esguio marveled. ‘Do the police know?’

      ‘I am the police.’ Or close enough. ‘That’s why I’m asking these questions and why it’s important you tell me what you know. How did you come to hire Eddie Loud?’

      ‘This recruiter came to the Portuguese Hall. Trying to place these folks. I got a card here someplace.’ Esguio fished it out of his wallet and passed it over the table.

      

      NEW LIFE

       giving those ready a second chance

      CURTIS CRUMWALD, DIRECTOR

       an outreach of the Center for BioChimera

      ‘He told us how the Center sounds like a science place, but it’s got a big hospital there, too. Where they do research, helping people. Eddie had problems, but he’d been in a halfway house three years, no incidents. It was all monitored. He’d never even had a parking ticket, Grace. Nothing. He even liked to cook.’ A small lost laugh.

      ‘Can I keep the card?’

      ‘Sure. I’m not going to be needing it. Know how much money is tied up in that van? I can’t believe it. Gone, poof, just like that. Damn. Two in one day.’

      Some antenna tweaked. ‘What happened to the other van?’

      ‘Wasn’t a van, just a food cart, thank the good Lord and all His Saints.’ Esguio crossed himself. ‘Still.’

      ‘Tell me about the other guy you hired for the food cart. What happened to him?’

      ‘Woman.’ Esguio made a face and drained his water glass. ‘Heartburn. Acid reflux.’ He eyed her untouched water glass and Grace passed it over.

      ‘Thanks.’ He took a deep drink and crunched ice. ‘Where was I?’

      ‘The woman you hired to work your food cart,’ Grace prompted. ‘Something went wrong with it.’

      ‘Jazz Studio, that was her name. Should have been my first tip-off, right? Somebody with a fake name isn’t going to think twice about trashing the cart. I blame Eddie, though.’

      ‘How’s that?’

      ‘They had a big fight right beforehand. I think whatever he said got her stirred up.’

      ‘How’d they know each other?’

      ‘Hired them from the same place.’

      Grace studied the card.

      ‘So this Jazz Studio and Eddie Loud are both outpatients at the Center for BioChimera. What were they being treated for?’

      ‘They never said what exactly. “Patient confidentiality.” That’s where they get you over the barrel. I should have stuck to distributing turkeys to St. Vincent’s at Christmas.’

      ‘Did Eddie Loud ever talk about video, or TV recording, or hidden cameras?’

      ‘Never. Although when he was really tired, he’d start acting like he thought somebody was after him, out to get him.’

      Grace mulled that over. ‘Where’d you have Jazz working?’

      ‘The Center. Nice easy job, no stress. Everybody loves the food cart, right? And I thought it would be familiar. They had Jazz working in Records for a while so she knew the building.’

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘Her first day on the cart’s yesterday, Sunday? Gave her that on purpose, because it’s a light day at the Center, only people there are those who have to be. So she takes the cart to Records, where she used to work? Hadn’t been there ten minutes when she causes this ruckus and her old boss has to call security.’ Esguio shook his head.

      ‘Ever find out what set her off?’

      ‘No. But something scared her. Bad.’

      Grace pushed the plates out of the way. ‘Any idea where she lives?’

      Esguio shook his head. ‘Or Eddie either. They keep that part quiet. Jazz could be living at the Center now in a nice padded room, for all I know.’

      ‘Could I have your home number, if I have any more questions?’

      He scribbled it on the back of a napkin and passed it over. ‘Know where it is? That Center for BioChimera?’

      She looked away. ‘Oh, yeah.’

       EIGHT

      The Center for BioChimera was part of a strip of high-end biotech research centers, hospitals, and the University of California, San Diego, in an area of La Jolla known as Biotech Mesa. Grace took 5 North to Genesee and Torrey Pines Road and made the familiar climb.

      The view sweeping to the Pacific didn’t engage her; Grace was preoccupied with what she’d learned. Eddie Loud was mentally ill. How did a mentally ill outpatient at the Center for BioChimera driving a taco van get her name? What did Eddie Loud have to do with her?

      The Center slanted in two wings facing the ocean, its back in a V toward the road. Three stories low to the СКАЧАТЬ