Jimmy turned out to be a wiry guy with grey hair who looked as tough as an old goat. Fred gave him the photo of Olivia. He stared at it for a good ten seconds before handing it back.
“I seen her. Tuesday night, some time after eleven.”
Shannon asked, “Anyone with her?”
“Two guys.”
“Can you describe them?”
Jimmy looked at Fred. “She a cop?”
Fred shook his head. “No, a friend. She’s looking for the girl.”
The airport employee grunted. “I figured out that much. Look lady, I really didn’t pay attention. A cute thing like her I certainly glance at, but I don’t have time for guys, know what I mean? And besides, they were in a real big hurry. Wanted their plane refuelled like yesterday.”
“So they took off right away?”
“Not really. Their pilot wasn’t ready, and it took a while to get through all the formalities. They weren’t happy. The shorter of the two guys took the girl onto the plane while they waited.”
“And the other person?”
“He drove off in the car almost right away. Can’t say if he didn’t just return it to the rental place and take a cab back, though.”
Shannon filed that bit of information away. Now for the million dollar question. “Any idea where they were flying to?”
“The plane was from the States, if that’s what you mean. I believe they flew in from California. Can’t really say if they were going back there, though. I was pretty busy that night. Hardly had time to think.”
He did have time to ogle a pretty girl, though, and that had been a good thing.
Fred spoke up. “I can get you that information.” Shannon wondered how much it might cost her. A year ago, he’d
fleeced her for three hundred dollars for the same sort of info. This time she’d stipulate that he share some of it with Jimmy. The sharp-eyed gas jockey had saved her a lot of time.
As she drove along Highway 401 on the way back to her office, Shannon considered her next move.
According to the flight plan that had been filed, the plane had a final destination of San Diego. That didn’t necessarily mean that it couldn’t have stopped somewhere first to drop off passengers. Pilots amended their flight plans all the time. She’d have to follow that up. Perhaps the pilot or the owners of the plane would be willing to talk. That would require the proper leverage, since they generally protected their clientele, especially if they were bounty hunters.
The news that the bozo who’d poked her client in the eye might still be around was something that required careful consideration, too. Was there a reason for that? If so, what?
Swinging north onto the 404, Shannon’s thoughts were back on Jackie Goode. After their meeting that morning, she had the feeling she might have caught lightning in a bottle. Then again, there was the comment by one of Goode’s instructors in a Seneca College Police Foundations course: “The kid’s got street smarts and savvy, but she’s also got a big mouth and is pigheaded to boot. I’d watch my step with her.”
Shannon would keep her on a short lead.
***
At two o’clock sharp, Jackie walked up the steps of Andrew Curran’s house. On one of the tree-lined streets running east off Broadview south of Danforth Avenue, he had an enviable location in one of Toronto’s hottest neighbourhoods, speaking in real estate terms.
The house itself looked a tad run down, but the windows were new. The broad porch was in need of fresh paint, the bushes in front of it were overgrown and the cement walk was crumbling. Playing drums must keep him busy – or else he didn’t care about protecting his investment.
Curran had been watching for her, because he was waiting behind the storm door as she mounted the steps.
“I’m Jackie Goode,” she said, offering her hand.
“Is this going to take long? I thought I answered all the questions yesterday.”
He seemed distracted as he led her into the living room.
As she sat down on a small sofa and looked around (not much furniture and most of it new), Jackie pulled a notebook out of her backpack before setting it on the floor. Only one small painting adorned the walls, but she could see marks where several others had once hung. The mantel above the fireplace at the far end was also bare. Frankly, the place looked as if he’d just moved in. The only thing of any consequence was an impressive sound system, a large bookcase crammed with CDs on one wall and another with double layers of books on the opposite side. Mr. Curran obviously liked to listen to music and read.
He made no move to turn on a lamp, and the porch outside cast further darkness into the room. Parking himself on one of those curved IKEA chairs, he didn’t lounge back the way the seat was designed to encourage. The man was clearly uneasy.
Jackie made a show of looking for her pen as she considered how to proceed in light of this.“To answer your question,”she said, opening her notebook,“I’m hoping this won’t take long at all. Do you have someplace you need to be?”
“Just my gig tonight, but there are some other things that need doing before I leave.”
She smiled. “Okay, I’ll be as speedy as I can.”
If it was up to her, she’d take the bold frontal approach and come right out and ask it: “What exactly was your relationship with this woman you’ve hired us to find?” But that would definitely be a bad idea, considering how stiff her potential employer seemed to be. Still, the idea had its charm...
Curran was staring at her.“When Ms O’Brien called this morning, I thought she had news for me. Have you found out anything?”
Jackie shook her head.“It’s pretty early, and you didn’t give us much to start with. One thing we’re doing is checking all the airports to see if that gives us any fresh leads on where they took your girl.”
The client squirmed and coloured a bit at her deliberate choice of words. “I saw you at the club last night,” was his deflecting response.
“Seems you’re not the only one hung up on this girl. I think half the people I spoke to last night have a crush on her.”
This time Curran visibly cringed. Jackie felt a bit sorry for him, but she also didn’t like people who lied – or at least played around with the truth.
Making a show of flipping pages in her notebook, she asked, “You worked with Olivia how long?”
“A little under two months.” “You told my employer that she lived on the street. Surely that can’t be true.”
“Olivia kept to herself. I don’t know much more about her than I told Ms O’Brien yesterday.”
She pounced, but gently. “How did you get in touch with her then? Go down to the train station whenever you wanted to tell her something?”
Curran flopped back into the chair and looked out the window over Jackie’s shoulder, his eyes far away. She waited silently for a good half minute.
“I asked Olivia to move in here shortly after we asked her to sing with the trio. Before that, she was sharing a room somewhere in the west end.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this yesterday?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly.“I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I just want to find out if she’s okay.You see, I feel responsible.”
“Why?”
“That’s sort of hard to explain. Maggie,