Cap nodded. He generally didn’t like the type of guys who went out of their way to tell you what type of guys they were.
“But you didn’t believe it, that he was late because of his mother. You thought he was into drugs.”
“A little of each, I guess. When he was here, he’d work, but if there was a minute of downtime, he’d literally nod off for that minute. Just sitting on the dock, leaning on a box.” Bennett paused. “I can’t believe he’s really dead. He was a nice kid,” he said, wistful.
“We’re going to need a list from you, Mr. Bennett,” said Cap. “Every employee who came in contact with Evan Marsh, addresses, phone numbers.”
“And Charlie Bright,” said Vega.
Bennett nodded.
“Of course, Mr. Caplan, Miss Vega,” he said, standing straighter. “Anything I can do to help.”
He handed Vega her wallet back and looked very sorry about everything.
“Thanks, Mr. Bennett,” said Vega. “Mr. Caplan and I appreciate it.”
—
Here was the message from the Bastard:
Hey, AV, can’t find residence for Charles Bright in Denville, PA/surrounding areas, just PO Box from old payroll. IRS is wrecking my shit, can’t get in.
Vega played with a pair of nylon restraint cuffs in her hands, shine from the streetlights passing over her like little camera flashes. Cap had pouches under his eyes; he stretched his lips out, trying not to yawn.
“My guy doesn’t have anything. He’s looking,” said Vega.
Cap nodded, stopped at a light.
“We can call it in to Traynor and Junior. I doubt they can get something your guy can’t. Where did you get those?” he said, examining the restraints in her lap.
“I got them off Junior’s belt when he grabbed me.”
“Of course you did,” he said. “Hey, so, how did you know all that stuff about his wife?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I saw the Facebook page—it’s all about fitness, but all the likes are from guys. I just figured Hollows was insecure enough about it that it must bother him. Just a guess.”
Cap’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it. He smiled so faintly Vega couldn’t tell if it was from something he was reading right now or something he was remembering that was vaguely pleasant.
“My daughter,” he said, shaking the phone. “Telling me to eat something.”
Vega made herself smile politely.
“Hey, are you hungry?” Cap said.
“What?”
“Hungry, you know, food?”
“Not really.”
“Yeah, I could’ve seen that coming,” he said. “I’m pretty starving, and my daughter made some dinner. So look, why don’t we go to my place—we’re a few blocks away, have some food. We can look over the files from Traynor and wait for your guy. Go from there?”
Something about the way he asked made her embarrassed. She couldn’t remember the last time she was embarrassed. Junior high school, maybe. She’d refused to wear a bra. Boys stared at her breasts. She looked out her window.
“Unless you’re one of these gluten-free, dairy-free people? Or a pescatarian?” he said. “You are from California. Don’t you all eat locally farmed kelp and stuff like that? Mashed yeast?”
“Mashed yeast?” she said, turning to him, confused. “No, I eat anything. I don’t eat much but I eat anything.” Then she looked out the window again and repeated, quietly, “Anything.”
“Then we’re good,” he said.
He smiled a little, like he had a secret, and took the corners quick.
It felt like a first date. Vega had never been on a first date. She could not remember sleeping with someone she hadn’t been in a fistfight with first.
This wasn’t a date, she said to herself. This was a pause.
Cap’s house looked like one of those houses in a miniature Christmas village, lit from the inside with yellow light; Vega almost expected to see artificial snow sprayed on the windows, smoke puffing from the metal flue on the roof.
Cap pulled into the driveway, and Vega stepped out into the air. It was dark and cold, and she breathed in fast and held it.
“Come on, you can’t back out now,” said Cap from the front steps, teasing.
Vega shook her head and followed him inside. The house was warm and full of food smells. Garlic and onions and oil.
“I’m home,” called Cap. “And I have a special guest star.”
Vega looked at her hands and felt like a freeloader suddenly, someone Cap just picked up off the street out of charity. Then a girl appeared from the kitchen, tall and athletic looking with a thoughtful expression. Here was Nell, Vega thought, the owner of the sneakers by the door and the copy of Othello. When the girl’s eyes landed on Vega she looked nicely surprised.
“Hello,” she said.
“Nell, Alice Vega,” said Cap.
“Nice to meet you,” said Nell, coming forward to shake her hand.
“Hi,” said Vega.
It was a firm handshake for a young girl. Self-assured. When she let go, she backed up and examined Cap’s face.
“Are you swollen?”
“Yeah,” Cap said, touching his chin. “I got in a tussle.”
“What kind of tussle? Who hit you?” she said, calm.
“Brad Ralz.”
“Brad Ralz hit you? Why would he do that?”
“There’s a story,” said Cap. “Let’s eat and we’ll tell you all about it.”
“Well, okay then,” she said. Then, confessional: “I made too much food.”
“Great,” said Cap. “You ate, didn’t you?”
“Not yet.”
Cap shrugged at her, incredulous.
“It’s after nine,” he said.
“I had an apple after practice and I’ve been studying.” Then she looked at Vega. “My dad has a tendency to worry. Have you noticed this, Miss Vega?”
“I have.”
“He forgets I’m not seven,” she said.
“There needs to be at least one person in the household who maintains healthy eating and sleeping habits,” said Cap, removing his jacket and dropping it on the couch. “It was specified on the census.”
Nell sighed and said, “Whatever.” Then she went back to the kitchen.
“What?” said Cap, holding his hands out. He looked at Vega like, Can you believe this kid?
She knew right then he was a dorky dad, like one on TV. Here in this cartoonishly inviting house with a smart, witty teenage daughter. And she, Vega, was here with them.
She smiled, and it was real.
—
Nell was impossibly good with people, Cap thought, as he watched her pile whole wheat spaghetti onto Vega’s plate with tongs. It was like she was the perfect mix of him and Jules: She had Jules’s intensity and sincerity that came from the education background; the look on her face said I am listening to everything you’re saying and taking it very seriously. This combined with Cap’s easy smile and ability to make a stranger comfortable and therefore likely to tell him secrets.
But there was no calculation in Nell’s demeanor; she asked Vega polite questions and passed her bread and butter, refilled her club soda, apologized for the lack of lemons. Vega said more words in ten minutes than she’d done in two days. And there was something so surprising and soothing about it, listening to them talk, watching Vega actually smile, one tooth overlapping the other like the one in front was trying to hug the one in back.