Ephemeral creatures, p.25
Ephemeral Creatures, page 25
“Do you know a guy who calls himself Hrym?” Kevin asked. “Used to work here a few years ago. White guy, about six-seven, with a foreign accent.”
“No, can’t say I do,” the linebacker replied. “But I’ve only been here a few months. You know that dude?” he asked the skinhead. “What did you say his name was?”
“Hrym.”
The skinhead peeled his eyes away from Tara for a moment. “Heard stories about Hrym, but I never knew him.”
“How long you been here?” Kevin asked.
“Three years or so.”
“Check with Jeff,” the linebacker said. “He’s the manager. Door off to the right with the Staff Only sign. Either knock at the door, or if you see a dude with blue hair and piercings hanging out, ask him.”
“Cool, thanks. There a cover charge?”
“Nope. Just when there’s a concert or something like tomorrow.” He held open the door, and they walked inside.
Megadeth’s “A Tout le Monde” was playing, the volume near concert level. At quarter after ten, the place was about half full, from what Kevin could discern in the dim confines. It seemed pretty chill, with most people mingling or just sitting and drinking, rather than the crazy mosh pit he had expected to find. A haze of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air.
Tara grabbed his arm. “Over there.” She pointed at a blue-haired guy engrossed with his phone, sitting beside a closed Staff Only door.
Blue Hair glanced at them with a blank stare when they approached. His face was filled with enough metal piercings to just about fill a toolbox, complementing his spiked blue hair. The guy had a sallow, junkie look about him.
“Hey, can we talk to Jeff?” Kevin asked, having to shout to be heard.
Blue Hair stared and made no reply long enough that Kevin opened his mouth again, thinking he hadn’t heard them.
“In regards to?” Blue Hair finally asked.
He repeated his query about looking for Hrym. “Bouncer said to check with Jeff, the manager.”
Blue Hair shrugged. “Wait here.” He disappeared through the door.
After a minute or two, he returned. “Go on back.”
They entered a dark storage room. The music became muffled when the door swung shut. Light shone from the open doorway of a back office. Inside, an aging Vince Neil lookalike reclined behind a desk, feet propped on top, idly punching keys on a laptop.
“Can I help you?” His bored expression sharpened to one of interest when he caught sight of Tara, and he smoothed back his permed blond hair. He could’ve stepped right out of a hair metal band from thirty years ago with the leather vest and pants. Maybe he had since the guy was probably in his fifties.
Tara put a hand on Kevin’s arm, and he let her take the lead.
“You must be Jeff,” she said with a smile.
“That’s me.” Jeff took his feet off the desk and sat up straight. “And who might you be, gorgeous?”
She introduced the three of them, though Kevin doubted Jeff heard or cared beyond Tara’s name.
“We’re hoping you can put us in touch with a former employee of yours,” Tara said. “Guy who calls himself Hrym. Big guy, foreign accent. You know him?”
Jeff sighed and flipped his hair back. “What do you want with him? Dude’s the epitome of bad news.” He pulled a cigarette from a crumpled pack and lit up.
She briefly told him what they’d told Matt about investigating the death of their friend.
“And you think Hrym killed your friend? Always knew he was trouble. Had a screw loose.”
“Can you give us a name and address?” Kevin asked.
Jeff shook his head. “Nope, no can do.”
“We can make it worth your while…” Tara had downsized to a much smaller purse, from which she withdrew her wallet. “How much you want?”
Jeff held up a hand. “That’s not it. I don’t have the info.”
“You don’t keep employee information on file?” Tara asked dubiously.
“If he would have come in here looking for work today, then yeah, I’d have all that. But this was… shit, eleven, twelve years ago now when he started. If I remember right, and pretty sure I do, he claimed to have an issue with his immigration status. I didn’t ask questions back then. In fact, I paid him under the table.”
Kevin exchanged skeptical looks with the others.
“Seriously, man?” Chad spoke up for the first time. “You got nothing on him? No W-4 or pay stubs or anything?”
Jeff got a pained look on his face. “Let’s just say he, ah, provided me a service besides doorman.” He lowered his voice and looked around uneasily as if they might be overheard. “I had a habit back then… coke, you know? I’d scored from him once or twice before, but then he showed up here one day, wanting a job so he could look legit. I was mostly interested in my benefit from the deal—supplying my habit. In exchange, I let him work and paid him under the table. Sounded good, right? I know, I know—I’m an asshole. But hey, I was a junkie back then. Anyways, it worked out fine for both of us. He bounced whenever he felt like it, supplied my coke when I needed it, I paid him in cash, and that was that.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Kevin asked.
“About five or six years now. Cops came looking for him shortly after he tossed this dickhead one night. Dude was fucked up and causing trouble, so Hrym booted him. They scuffled a little, and Hrym body-slammed his ass to the pavement. Broke the dude’s neck. He’ll never walk again. So he hired a lawyer and sued. He wanted to press charges, too, and suddenly, I got the cops up in here, hassling me. They found my stash of coke, and next thing I know, I’m being put in a squad car. Total fucking shitshow. I tipped off Hrym, and the fucker skipped town. He did pay for my lawyer, though, which was unexpected. But I guess he was really paying me to keep my mouth shut. Luckily, I was able to settle the lawsuits. Had my business license revoked for six months, though. Got clean during that time, so it all worked out in the end, for the most part.” Jeff cursed and brushed away a piece of ash that had fallen on his leather-clad thigh.
Kevin tried to fight down his acute disappointment at Jeff’s inability to give them anything. After all this, and now a dead end.
“You don’t have any idea where he could have gone?” Tara pressed. “No phone number or email or any other way to contact him?”
“Nah, he used those burner phones, like they do on the TV shows. No clue where he might be now. I just know he traveled around the southwest a lot. He’d disappear for weeks at a time. I do know he was touring with Abaddon’s Call as a roadie for a while.” He nodded at Tara’s shirt. “Maybe you could look them up?”
“Already did,” Kevin said. “That’s how we ended up here.”
“Oh. Don’t know what else to tell you, man. Sorry. I’m just happy to have that drama gone from my life. I run a clean club now. No drugs anymore.”
Kevin looked at the others. Chad shrugged and turned to leave. Tara shook her head. Guess we’re done here. This sucks.
“Well, thanks for your time, Jeff,” Tara said.
“Anytime, darlin’.” He winked.
They left his office, dejected.
“What now?” Tara asked while they were still in the storage room, where they could actually hold a conversation.
“Hey, wait!” Jeff popped his head out of the office. “Talk to Lin—she might know something. They had a dustup back in the day.”
“Lin?” she asked.
“Bartender. She’s worked for me for years. Mixes a mean drink.”
***
As they neared the bar, Tara spotted Lin right away—short, wiry, and plenty of attitude on display with her tattoos and piercings, including a nose ring and a hoop through one eyebrow. The bartender was rocking a fauxhawk, her hair dyed frost white. She wore leather pants and a clingy, midriff-baring scarlet top. A tattoo of an Asian dragon curled around her pierced belly button.
They pulled up at the less-crowded end of the bar. Kevin took the lead, turning on his charming smile. “Hey, are you Lin?”
The woman barely spared him a glance with her onyx-black eyes. “Get you something?”
“Sure. Club soda, please. And whatever my friends want.”
“Lone Star draft,” Chad hollered over the music, which had picked up in intensity with a screaming guitar riff.
“Martini,” Tara added.
Lin spared Tara a much longer look than the guys, enough to give her the once-over before turning to fix their drinks.
So that’s how she rolls, huh? Tara leaned up against the counter to give the bartender an eyeful of cleavage.
“So, Lin!” Kevin shouted. “Was wondering if you might be able to help us out and provide us some information? Jeff said you were the person to talk to.”
Lin either didn’t hear or was ignoring him. Tara thought the latter more likely.
Kevin and Chad exchanged a look. Chad shrugged. When Kevin glanced at Tara, she put a hand on his arm.
“Let me try.”
“That’ll be sixteen,” Lin said curtly as she set their drinks on the counter. She barely looked at the men but snuck a peek at Tara’s chest.
Tara dialed up her winningest smile as she slid two twenties across the bar. Lin’s sour look finally cracked, and she raised a pierced eyebrow.
“Pour one for yourself and keep the change,” Tara said.
Lin nodded, her thin lips quirking for a brief moment. The cash disappeared with a flash of nimble fingers. She went down the bar and hollered something into a back room. After a minute, Blue Hair from earlier came out to relieve her.
Tara took a drink of her martini. Jeff had been right about Lin’s mixology skills. The drink was damn near perfect.
Lin fixed herself what looked like a Long Island iced tea then came down to the end of the bar where Tara and the others waited. She lit up a cigarette, took a long drag, and tilted her head back to exhale the smoke.
Whatever thrash metal song was playing ended, mercifully, and Metallica’s “The Unforgiven” began. If Tara had to pick a metal band she could listen to, Metallica was it.
“Thanks for the drink,” Lin said. “Was overdue for a break anyway.”
“My pleasure,” Tara answered.
“You guys aren’t regulars.” She briefly glanced at the men before her attention returned to Tara.
“No, we actually drove down here after stopping in Austin to pay a visit to the Abaddon’s Call frontman.” Tara pointed at her shirt.
Lin actually smiled for the first time. “Great band. Was sad to hear they stopped touring. We used to sell out every time they played here. Matt’s a cool guy. Did he say anything about them getting back together?” She looked hopeful.
“He wasn’t sure—family stuff going on right now. And their lead guitarist is working side gigs.”
“Silverman. Yeah, the guy fuckin’ rocks. That sucks. I’ve been hoping they’d announce a reunion tour.” She took a long drink then looked at Kevin. “Sorry I was a bitch earlier. It’s been one of those nights, man.”
“No problem—we’ve all been there,” he replied easily.
Lin nodded again and turned back to Tara. “So what brings you here?”
“Was wondering if you might be able to help us out with some information. Looking for a guy who calls himself Hrym.” As Lin’s face darkened, Tara pressed on. “Talked to your manager, Jeff, but he wasn’t able to give us much. Mentioned you and Hrym had some history, though.”
“You could say that. Creep took a liking to me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Told him I don’t swing that way, but he didn’t seem to care. Got handsy in the back room one time. Knee to the balls convinced him the error of his ways.”
Tara laughed. “That usually works, I’ve found.”
Lin took another long drag on her smoke. “Why you looking for that asshole anyway? It was good riddance when he left.”
“He murdered a friend of ours ten years ago. We can’t go to the police with no evidence so figured we’d have to do something about it ourselves.”
Lin’s eyes went wide. “Damn. Sorry to hear about your friend. Doesn’t surprise me, honestly.” Lin downed another gulp of her drink and glanced over at Blue Hair covering the bar for her. She shook her head when he overfilled a draft beer and gave a snort of disapproval.
“You know anything about Hrym?” Tara pressed. “This is probably wishful thinking, but if there’s anything you can remember, his real name or phone number or anything?”
Lin’s face took on a decidedly wicked expression. “I might be able to help you out with that, sister.” She took out her phone and swiped at it. “Don’t hold this against me, but I wasn’t always on the up-and-up. Ran with the wrong crowd when I was younger and did some time in juvie… more than I like to admit. Got my shit together, more or less, but some habits die hard. And Hrym was an asshole. Figured he deserved getting his shit messed with.” After finding what she sought, she slid her phone across the counter with a satisfied smile.
Tara, Kevin, and Chad all eagerly leaned in to study what looked like a spreadsheet with credit card information: names, card numbers, expiration dates, and security codes. Lin had highlighted the name Axel Vollan.
“Made the mistake of going to him for some molly a few times,” Lin said. “Girl I was with at the time liked to party, and I overheard Axel there had connections. After I made a few buys, he somehow got the wrong impression about us. I had his phone number at one point but deleted it.” She shrugged. “Think it was a burner anyway. Luckily, he left shortly after the incident in the back room. I was having a hard time sleeping, thinking about that creep and what he might do to get back at me. But before he left, there was one night he wasn’t working but came in pissed about something and drinking heavily. I might have taken the liberty of acquiring his card information when the opportunity was too good to pass up.”
“Nice work.” Chad grinned.
“May I?” When Lin nodded, Tara snapped a picture of Vollan’s information. The expired credit card information was useless, but she wanted to make sure she had the correct name spelling.
Lin looked pleased with herself. “Never did use it though. I was always afraid he’d find out if I did—asshole was pretty scary. Anyway, I hope that helps. I gotta get back to work, but if you catch up with the bastard, be careful. He’s a cruel motherfucker. I’ve seen him hurt the people he bounces just because he enjoys it. Stomps on fingers to break bones when they’re down and shit like that.”
“This is a huge help—thanks.” Tara slid Lin’s phone back to her.
Lin seemed to gather her courage and blurted, “I take it you’re probably into guys, huh?”
Tara nodded. “Afraid so. If I wasn’t, though, you’d probably be my type.”
Lin smiled again, and her cheeks actually colored. “Well, good luck, you guys. Hope you make that asshole pay. Give him a good kick in the junk for me.”
Tara caught her hand and squeezed it. “Thanks so much, Lin.”
“Happy to help.” Lin nodded, then returned to reclaim her bar from the fill-in she clearly wasn’t impressed with.
The three of them exchanged grins. After their chat with Jeff, Tara had been afraid the trail had gone cold. But having a real name opened possibilities.
“Nice work, Tara,” Kevin said. “Guess it’s not only guys who can’t resist your charm.”
Tara slipped her arm through his and smiled. “Why, Kevin, that’s the nicest thing you’ve said in ten years. Other than the comment about the pic on my IG that one time.”
Chad slammed the rest of his beer and pushed the glass away. “So now what?”
“Now, I think we should leave before this noise gives me a migraine. I know you guys like it, but not my thing. I need to give Mal a call.” She drained the rest of her martini.
“I won’t say no to some quiet,” Kevin said. “This is a little on the heavy side. Chad?”
“I’m cool going somewhere a little more chill.”
Tara’s eardrums thanked her when they reached the sidewalk outside. She phoned Mallory, and her PA picked up on the second ring like always, despite the late hour.
“Mal? Hey, it’s me.”
“Hi, Tara. How’s it going?”
“It’s going fine. Better than fine, actually, thanks to this chick at the club. Never mind. But I need you to work your internet voodoo and look something up—see what you can find on one of those sketchy background-check sites. I need whatever you can get on an Axel Vollan.” She spelled the name out. “Current address being top of the list.”
“I can do that. When are you needing it by?”
“If you can give me something tomorrow, you’ll totally make my day. I should be back Sunday. Long-ass drive from San Antonio.”
“Not a problem. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mal. You rock.”
She hung up and turned to her friends with a smile. “I’ve got my PA all over it. She’s good—she’ll find something. In the meantime, on the way here, I saw an Irish pub a few blocks away. How about we celebrate our good fortune?”
-33-
“I know she doesn’t want to hear it, but we should seriously consider what happens if we catch up to this bastard.”
Kevin let out a long breath and nodded slowly to acknowledge Chad’s statement. He glanced toward the back of the Irish pub but didn’t see Tara. She’d gone to the ladies’ room a couple minutes earlier.
“Are we prepared to do what it takes?” Chad asked. “And by that, I mean putting an end to this fucker. Plenty of places in the desert to get rid of a body.”
“Shit,” Kevin said. “You serious, man?” Back at Griffith’s place, he had said they would take care of the matter without much thought of what they would actually do if and when they caught up with Lidia’s killer. But he knew Chad was right—they needed a plan if it came down to a confrontation.
“Just being practical. I doubt this piece of shit will ever see the inside of a prison cell. And the justice system being as jacked up as it is, if he does do time, he could very well be back out again before you know it. You prepared to risk what might happen when the tables are turned, and he comes after us?”
