Part 46 (1/2)
”Phoebe is only thirteen. She disappeared while walking to dance cla.s.s.”
Celine's hand paused, then resumed mas.h.i.+ng the b.u.t.t. ”You got a kid?”
”No,” I said.
”Me neither.” Celine stared at the jar lid, but I don't think she saw it. She was looking at a place and time far removed from the little table in Le Pa.s.sage Noir. ”Thirteen years old. I wanted to be a ballerina.”
”This is Phoebe.” I slipped a picture from Ryan's envelope and placed it on the table. ”It's her seventh-grade cla.s.s photo.”
Celine considered the image. I watched for a reaction, but saw none.
”Cute kid.” Celine cleared her throat and looked away.
”Ever see her here?” I asked.
”No.” Celine continued gazing off into s.p.a.ce.
I replaced Phoebe's photo with that of Kelly Sicard.
”How about her?”
This time there was a twitch in her lips and movement in her eyes. Nervously, she rubbed her nose with the back of a wrist.
”Celine?”
”I've seen her. But like you said, it was a long time ago.”
I felt a ripple of excitement. ”Here?”
Celine looked over her shoulder and around the bar.
”Mr. Bastarache has a place in Moncton. Le Chat Rouge. This kid danced there. But not for long.”
”Her name was Kelly Sicard?”
”Doesn't click.”
”Kitty Stanley?”
A fake pink nail came up. ”Yeah. That was it. She danced as Kitty Chaton. Cute, eh? Kitty Kitten.”
”When was this?”
She gave a bitter smile. ”Too long ago, suns.h.i.+ne.”
”Do you know what happened to her?”
Celine tapped another cigarette from her pack. ”Kitty hit the lottery. Married a regular and got out of the business.”
”Do you recall the man's name?”
”It's not that kind of business.”
”Can you remember anything about him?”
”He was short and had a skinny a.s.s.”
Celine lit up, idly waved the smoke from her face with one hand. ”Wait. There is one thing. Everyone called him Bouquet Beaupre.”
”Because?”
”He owned a flower shop in Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupre.”
Celine's gaze was steady now, her mouth skewed with the hint of a grin. ”Yeah. Kitty Kitten got out.”
Looking at the woman, I felt an unexpected sadness. She'd been pretty once, might still be save for the overdone makeup and bleach.
”Thank you,” I said.
”Kitty was a good kid.” She flicked her ash to the floor.
”Celine,” I said. ”You could get out, too.”
She shook her head slowly, eyes suggesting the abandonment of all illusion.
At that moment, Ryan appeared.
”Found something curious.”
34.
C ELINE AND ELINE AND I I FOLLOWED FOLLOWED R RYAN THROUGH THE ILLUMINATED SORTIE SORTIE into a dim back hall. Deschenes watched our approach, heavy-lidded and bored. To his right was a small dressing room, door ajar. Through a smoky haze I could see the bartender and the kimono girls amid mirrors and makeup and sequined things that must have been costumes. into a dim back hall. Deschenes watched our approach, heavy-lidded and bored. To his right was a small dressing room, door ajar. Through a smoky haze I could see the bartender and the kimono girls amid mirrors and makeup and sequined things that must have been costumes.
A faux-wood-paneled room was on the left. Hippo was in it sorting through papers at a desk.
Celine joined her coworkers. Ryan and I joined Hippo.
”Anything?” Ryan asked.
”Doesn't look like he's used this office for a while. Bills and receipts are all at least two years old.”
”I got something.”
Both men looked at me.