Page 92 of Jig's Last Dance
“I know. Alice, Sal Castinetti is a freak,” she says softly, and I nod.
“I know. Or at least I do now. But I’m stuck, and now I think he’s using me to find my dad. The question is, who’s the bigger bad guy?”
Shawn eyes me with pity before shaking her head. There is no good answer to that question.
“What does Ben say?” Shawn asks.
“He still won’t talk to me,” I whisper miserably.
“Fucker. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No.” I shake my head. Not knowing what he’s up to makes him dangerous, and I’ve already told Shawn too much.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Start with what you do know.”
I guess the suspense is killing me, but I have to go with what I have and hope it leads to more information.
“Thanks,” I say, leaning my head against her shoulder.
“What can I do?” she asks, tapping my head.
“I don’t want you involved.”
“Too bad. What’s next?”
Staring into her blue eyes, I sigh. “C’mon, we can start with an address I found.”
This may lead nowhere, but Iris saved the info for a reason. If it leads back to John, all the better for me. I need that skeevy fucker off my back.
Somehow, they’re all involved. I just have to connect the dots.
∞∞∞
We leave Sal’s car behind because the last thing I need is him knowing where I’m going.
The area where the address leads us is all industrial and, judging by the sad facades, long since out of use.
“Where the fuck are we?” Shawn mutters.
I meet the dead eyes of a girl standing on the sidewalk. She’s maybe a few years older than me, wearing a tight black dress, frayed fishnet stockings, and a sneer.
Shifting, I look away, shame burning my cheeks. It’s not my fault she’s on the street and presumably waiting for her next job. But still, I’m uneasy.
“Should be a couple of blocks down and over,” I say, avoiding the scene on the street altogether.
There are so many. My heart hurts at where they’ve chosen to be, assuming they chose at all. Where are their parents? Families? People who care?
“This is so creepy,” she says, turning a corner.
The next block is empty, and I slowly exhale as we approach the water, a river running behind the broken-down buildings.
When we reach the end, I glance around with a frown. This is the address, but there’s no building, just rocks and water.
Shawn taps her fingers against the wheel, and I look at her with a shrug.
“Where did you get this address?”