Poppy said, “Hear what?”
Irritably, Troy said, “Okay, I banged her. Iris. What the fuck, Poppy. You don’t own me.”
The animation drained from Poppy’s face. Where she’d been tentative and wounded, pushing for a reply, she now turned to stone. She did a slow pivot until she was looking straight at Sloan, still standing at the sink.
She crossed the distance between them in two steps and slapped Sloan across the face. The impact made a wet smacking sound that startled everyone. There was dead silence. Sloan was so stunned, she didn’t react. Poppy slapped her again and only then did Sloan lift a hand to her cheek in wonder. “Jesus, Poppy. Why piss all over me? I didn’t screw your boyfriend. Iris did!”
Poppy would have slapped her a third time if Austin hadn’t grabbed her wrist.
“Cool it,” he said.
“You cool it, asshole!” Poppy snapped at him. She turned to Sloan. “You should have told me the truth. You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“Iris is your friend, Poppy. I’m the one you dumped.”
“I will never forgive you. Never. You knew all the time and you let me walk into this. You can get your own damn ride home.”
Poppy snatched up her clothes and her purse. As she passed Iris, she paused. “You’re pathetic,” she said and then she moved on.
In silence, Iris watched her leave the cabin, her expression forlorn.
29
Tuesday, October 3, 1989
Tuesday morning, I arrived at the office to find Iris Lehmann and her fiancé, Joey Seay, sitting in a ten-year-old VW bug parked out front. As soon as I pulled into the drive, the two got out and proceeded to my front door. After a brief exchange of greetings, they stood by while I went through my ritual of unlocking the door and disarming the system, after which I ushered them into my office. The mailman had shoved a handful of bills and catalogues through the mail slot. I leaned over and swept up the pile and set it on my desk. I gestured for them to take a seat and then went around my desk and settled in my swivel chair. “Would you like coffee?” I asked.
Iris sat with her arms crossed, refusing to look at me. “I don’t have time. Joey has to drop me off downtown so I can open the store.”
“Up to you,” I said.
I couldn’t help but note the differences between them. His complexion was speckled red from the healing of old acne scars that probably undercut his confidence as a teen. His ears weren’t comically large, but otoplasty wouldn’t have been out of the question. I was again struck by the worry lines that had been etched across his forehead. I could imagine him at ages five, ten, and fifteen with the same burdened look. His outfit had that odd air of stunted youth. He wore tattered running shoes and his jeans were cinched with a brown leather belt taken down to the last hole. His long-sleeved T-shirt had wide horizontal stripes in red, yellow, and green. I wondered how seasoned construction workers felt about his management skills, given that he was half their age and seemed even younger.
Iris wore a vintage outfit that consisted of a long navy-blue silk skirt with a long-sleeved, high-necked blouse. The stand-up collar was edged with ruffles and was made of a cotton fabric referred to as “lawn” in the few romance novels I’d read. Lawn is lightweight, known for its semi-transparency, which here translated into a garment that covered her bosom primly while at the same time revealing and emphasizing her voluptuous flesh. Where Joey looked like a kid who suffered from arrested development, Iris was as ripe as a peach. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes straying to her cleavage with a giddy look of disbelief. How a boychick of his unsophisticated demeanor had been granted access to such riches probably had him lying awake at night, marveling.
Iris said, “Joey’s stepmom showed me your business card. When you came into Yesterday, you claimed you were a journalist. Now I find out you’re a private detective.”
“I understand why that might not sit well—”
“Might not sit well? Are you kidding me? You lied!”
“I did and I’m sorry about that. I was looking for information and I couldn’t think of any other way to get it.”
“Well, how nice for you. I guess you think that justifies dishonesty, but I don’t think there’s any excuse for misrepresenting yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Iris. If I’d known you, I’d have tried a straightforward approach, which might have been better for both of us.”
“Better for you maybe . . .”
Joey put a consoling hand on her arm and his tone was mild. “Babe, she apologized. Let’s not get sidetracked when that has nothing to do with why we’re here.”
She shot him a look, but seemed to accept his point. Clearly, he knew how to handle her and I gave him credit for a maturity that wasn’t visible on sight.
Both of them now seemed ill at ease. It was Joey who broke the ice. “Reason we’re here is something came up and my stepmom thought we should tell you.”
“I’m all ears,” I said before remembering that his protruded like the sideview mirrors on a car.
He turned to Iris. “You want to talk or you want me to?”
“I’ll do it,” she said. She still seemed sulky and out of sorts, but at least she’d finished berating me. “What happened is I thought I saw Austin Brown a couple times last week.”
“Really. When was this?”
“First time was Tuesday of last week when me and Joey were playing pool at the Clockworks over on lower State Street. I was lining up a shot and I happened to glance to my left and I saw Austin in the other room. Just a flash, but I knew it was him.”
“How did you know?”
“Have you seen pictures of him? You don’t forget a face like his. He’s a good-looking guy. He has those honed cheeks and the slight smirk, like he’s better than the rest of us. He’d grown his hair long and he had on these mirrored sunglasses, but when he saw me, he took them off and we locked eyes. I was so flustered I missed my shot and when I looked up again, he was gone.”
“You think he wanted you to see him?”
“He didn’t make any effort to conceal himself. On the other hand, if I hadn’t looked up when I did, he might have walked right on by.”
“What do you think he was doing at the Clockworks?”
“We used to hang out there in high school. Not me so much after I dropped out of Climp, but a lot of kids. He might have gone for old times’ sake.”
I watched her, trying to make sense of what she’d said. “Seems odd to me.”
“Why?”
“It’s just not very smart of him. He succeeded in vanishing for ten years. Now suddenly he’s back and he walks into a place where he could be recognized?”
“It’s the other way around. Austin always acts like he’s in charge, like he knows what he’s doing. Maybe he didn’t expect to see me, but when he realized I had seen him, he had to make it seem like his idea. Something he’d done on purpose instead of being caught out.”
“I can understand that,” I said. “You mentioned seeing him more than once.”