Six weeks passed, and still no Lucy. Rumors ran through The Pink Flamingo like a tidal wave. Some said she had lit out for California, was living underground for a time, and had surfaced in San Francisco, where she was waiting tables at an upscale gay restaurant. Others had her performing as a showgirl in Las Vegas.
Early in their investigation, the Tacoma County Police had received an anonymous tip regarding Lucy's involvement with Big Tom Tunney that eventful night. For a week or two, the Sheriff's department put out a BOLO for Lucy, but the investigation quickly went cold.
I suspected that only one person knew the truth. That person was Holly Krakowski, and she wasn't saying squat.
Then, one morning, Emeril Smith-Jones, who slopped out the bathrooms in The Corner Pocket every day around 5:00 am, motioned to me to meet him in the MEN'S john. Smith-Jones was the size of a diesel truck, but some kind of brain injury he suffered when he was an all-star lineman on his high school football team left him as simple as a three-penny nail and completely harmless.
"What's going on, Em?" I asked as I turned a corner and stepped into the bathroom.
"Mistah still be lookin' for Miss Lucy?" the awkward janitor asked, his eyes rolling away from looking at me directly.
"Why? What do you know?" I asked nonchalantly. I had heard all the rumors, and I wasn't in much a mood to entertain another one.
"Might wanta see what's what over in Marathon then."
"What do you mean, Em?"
"Mista might want to see what's what over in Marathon is all. But youse don't wanna be telling no one 'bout it, not no one at all."
Then the big guy pushed past me and nearly knocked me over on his way out, leaving me to ponder what he said as I stood by the scrubbed out urinals. I shook my head, somewhat dismayed with all the talk that continued to swirl around Lucy's disappearance, and headed off to my room.
As I undressed, a scrap of paper fluttered from my shirt pocket and fell to the floor. I picked it up and unfolded it. On it was scrawled an address, 304 Rainbow Lane, Marathon . Emeril must have somehow slipped it to me as he left the bathroom.
I folded it back up and placed it on my dresser. One side of my brain said it was just another wild goose chase, but the other side of my brain wouldn't let it go.
I poured myself a shot of Jack in a tall glass, and sat outside to have a smoke. As I was watching the sun come up, Holly walked by, and without even looking my way, she asked with something of a jeer, "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
I watched her ass wiggle as she continued down the breezeway and then called after her.
"Holly," I barked, "I need a couple of days off."
She turned back, took a few steps toward me, and asked, "Are you quitting then?" She paused for effect, and then added, "You see, I don't know just who would take your place? I suppose I'll have to hire one of the boys away from Jimmy's."
Jimmy's was a illicit casino, run by ne'er-do-wells out by the highway. It attracted hard-core gamblers, criminals, and the odd crooked politician. You didn't go in unless you were packing heat.
"Not quitting," I returned, "just need a few days vacation."
"Vacation?" the old woman mused. "Hmm, seems to me that your life here is like a vacation. Free lodging, free room service, free meals, free booze, lots of free time to yourself. What more could you want?"
I could tell that this wasn't going to end well.
Holly took a few steps closer to me. "Where are you planning to take this vacation?" she asked.
I wasn't sure whether to say much more, but I knew I would never get time off unless I convinced her it was important. So I lied.
"My sister," I began, "she's dying. Cancer. Pancreatic cancer. Doctors say she'll be gone in a matter of weeks. I need to see her before then. Get some stuff figured out."
"Where's she at?" Holly wondered blankly.
"Marathon," I said, and the moment I spoke, I knew I was an idiot for telling her where I planned to go.
"Marathon?" Holly yelped. "Oh, I don't think you want to be going to Marathon."
It was then that I knew she knew what was up.
"You see," she continued, "Marathon can be a dangerous place to visit."
"Won't be more than a couple of days," I offered. "I'll be back before you know it."
A dark look crossed Holly's face, but her eyes lit up with a kind of fiery anger.
"Well," she snarled, "you is your own man. You can travel to Marathon, and I can't do anything about that. But, I also can't promise your job will here when you get back."
She turned and walked away, and her fury left a smoke trail behind her.
The sun rose over the palm trees dotting the western horizon, but I was overcome with a sensation that I was still completely in the dark.
The Hooters ♫ Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
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