My parents came to mind, all those years of them openly resenting each other for reasons never explained to me. My father died when I was sixteen, two years after he abandoned my mother for an identical woman: same age and height, same dark curly hair, same everything except she wasn’t my mother. When he was dying in the hospital and the cancer in his lungs had muted his once sonorous voice, I asked him why he left her, and he said that love just dies sometimes, and when it does, you can’t save it anymore than you can revive a corpse. The words rasped in his throat, but I could still hear his confidence, his certainty. He had never lost it, not for a second. I suppose I had always admired him for this trait. Everything else about him was cold and cruel.
I thought again of all the reasons Suzy had to leave me and wondered how many Sonny had given her.
One thing I was sure of: when and if I found her, delivering her was out of the question. They couldn’t possibly expect me to discover the real reasons why she left, as I surely would, and then just hand her over like a lost puppy. I suspected Junior already anticipated I’d feel this way, which unsettled me all the more. Why would he give me the chance to disobey him yet again?
Other half-formed questions flitted through my head. I dropped my cigarette in the coffee just to hear the satisfying hiss.
On the room telephone, I dialed Tommy, my old partner during my time in narcotics. He was a lieutenant now and had been working homicide for the last decade. Before I met Suzy, we used to go out drinking and I’d spend all night watching him start fights and chase ass. Nowadays he played the devoted husband and father, something he once drunkenly swore he’d never do, not even if life put a gun to his head.
“Yeah?” his dull voice muttered over the line. His idea of answering the phone was to communicate his displeasure at being called.
“Tommy. It’s me.”
“Where’ve you been hiding? You were MIA at Laura’s birthday a few weeks ago.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I still have her present, actually. I’ll give it to you next time I see you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I got a favor to ask. That call you put in for me to Vegas Metro six months back? On a Sonny Van Nguyen? I need a narrative on one of his assault charges. Incident at a casino. He threw a chair at some guy.”
“This again?”
“It’s N-G-U—”
“I know how to spell Nguyen, Bob. We live in California, for fuck’s sake.”
“Two more things. Can you run a tag for me?” I read him the plate for Suzy’s Toyota. “I’m also curious about priors on 2121 E. Warm Springs Road, 89119. Anything in the last six months.”
“Jesus, you running a federal investigation?”
“Just some questions that need answering. You still have that Vegas contact, right?”
“You know, man, if you want to play detective, just apply to be one again.”
“Look, I know you’re busy, but if you can do this asap for me, I’ll owe you forever. I’ll call you back in an hour.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of the house, man. Go visit an old friend. Call him for something other than a favor.”
He hung up. Peevish and sensitive as always. I hadn’t told anyone yet about Suzy moving to Vegas and remarrying. But Tommy knew something was up. He knew five months ago and either didn’t want to pry or didn’t care enough to. Probably the latter. The world is full of people who care but never quite care enough.
It was half past noon. How many hours would I have to wait? How many was I willing to wait? I tried to imagine Suzy’s face once she saw me. I’m here to help you, I’d say and put up my hands like someone surrendering, like I’d always done at some point in our arguments. I have money saved, I’d say. We can jump in a taxi and get out of town, away from this desert, back to California and back to the ocean, and then we can go wherever you want to go and forget everything that happened here and you won’t have to say a single thing to me except yes I’ll go with you. Was this what she had wanted to hear all those years ago? Could she already be there next door, sitting in an identical room, on an identical bed, staring — as I was — at the door that separated our adjoined rooms?
I fell back on the bed, letting my head sink into the pillows.
Some faraway sound startled me awake an hour later. I jumped out of bed and went to the adjoining door and tried knocking a few more times. I put my ear to the door, as though waiting for an echo.
A glass of water cleared my head a bit, and I called Tommy back.
“Yeah, I got your info,” he said, his voice less irritable now. “No priors on the address you gave me. And no activity on the tag. Sorry if that disappoints you. That casino incident, however, is a little less boring.”
“Go ahead.”
I heard him sip some hot coffee while a baby started crying in the background. I’d caught him on his day off. He was probably still in his pajamas and sitting in his kitchen with the morning newspaper. I could see Laura sitting across from him, trying to nurse the baby.
“Looks like your guy Nguyen was playing poker downtown two years ago and got into an argument with another player at the table. White twentysomething male who tossed a hundred-dollar chip at his chest and called him a Chinaman. Very creative. Anyway, Nguyen went at the kid and tried to strangle him. Kid had fifty pounds on him but apparently didn’t fare very well. Casino security rushed in to break things up and managed to pry Nguyen off him, but he got loose and picked up a chair and flung it at the kid’s head. Knocked him out cold. Kid was fine but suffered a mild concussion, cut to the head, bruises to the neck. Your guy was held by security until Vegas Metro came and arrested him.”
“The casino blacklist him? Which one was it?”
“Let’s see. .” I could hear him flipping through his notes. “The Coronado. I’ve been there actually. Years ago. One of those old downtown joints on Fremont Street. Ain’t no models waitressing there. And yeah, he got himself a criminal trespass. Immediate arrest if seen on the premises. That goes the same, by the way, for his son.”
“His son?”
“Yeah. A Jonathan Van Nguyen. Twenty-eight years old. Runs his daddy’s restaurants. He showed up during the melee and tangled with security. One of the reasons his father got free and was able to throw the chair. The casino didn’t press any charges on the son, but they did ban the both of them. Anyway, Nguyen Senior pled out and got two years’ probation, which actually expires in three months. I doubt he wants to make trouble any time soon. If he’s been throwing chairs at people lately, he’s probably doing it in private.”
Tommy let my silence go for a few seconds before saying, “Exciting enough for you?”
“That’s what I needed.”
“Sure that’s all you need?”
“Of course.”
“Should I be asking you anything?”
“Sounds like you already are. I’m just curious about the guy.”
“Uh-huh.” I could hear him nodding doubtfully at me. “We should have a drink at McGee’s next week. I’m off Wednesday night. You free?”
“I’ll call you. Thanks again, man. Really.”
“Bob. . ” he said soberly. “Call me, right?”
“Of course.” I hung up.
I took a swig of cold coffee but spat it back into the cup, retching a little as I smelled the cigarette still floating there. I rinsed the cup and my mouth in the sink, then poured myself a new cup. I downed it in three gulps.
I put on my jacket and stuffed its pockets with the cell phone, the surveillance photo, and my badge, which now felt unfamiliar and useless.