The Big Dirt Nap

Twenty-two

"Someone you drove home isn't there? Is that really why you're calling me at this ungodly hour?"

Detective Stacy Winters was lucky I hung up the first time I called, almost two hours earlier.

No one had answered at Oksana's place and repeatedly calling her name before six A.M. got me nothing but angry responses from her neighbors. The loudest was the guy with the peace sign. I drove to the casino, and from there back to Titans, checking the rearview mirror so often I nearly missed the exit for the hotel.

I should have been exhausted but too much information was coming at me all at once and I needed to talk to someone about what, if anything, all of this meant. When I finally broke down and called Winters, I spilled everything I knew about Lucy's disappearance, Oksana's story, the Crawford brothers, and the Ukrainians.

"Look, I know I told you to call me if you thought of anything else, but lots of times we just say that. We don't really think you're going to call us. If we thought you really knew anything about Vigoriti's murder we'd still be questioning you."

Stacy Winters was in no danger of being burdened with either a warm bedside manner or an insatiable curiosity. Even after I told her about Nick's involvement with the Mishkins and the Crawford brothers.

"Nick was always claiming he knew more than he did," she said, unimpressed. "He should have gone into politics. With his looks and shtick he could have been governor. You don't have to be smart, you get all the dates you want, and you get to rub shoulders with big-time criminals—not the small fry Nick usually hung out with." I could hear her slurp a drink and rustle a few papers in the background.

"Look, you're what? A gardener? Go plant some tulips and leave the police work to the professionals."

What was her obsession with tulips? Was that the only plant she knew? I was tempted to tell her you don't plant tulips in the spring, but somehow I knew it wouldn't be received as the scathing criticism I meant it to be, so I didn't respond.

"What about my friend Lucy? I haven't spoken to her in two days."

"I've got friends I haven't heard from in ten years," she said. Big surprise.

"What was her last message? Two men . . . ? She could have been sending you a joke—Two men walk into a bar."

"Why would she have called Nick twice?" I said.

"How should I know? Maybe she was asking him to bring the K-Y jelly. We don't know that she did call him twice. Or even once. Oksana Smolova is what we in law enforcement refer to as an unreliable source."

She told me Oksana had been picked up for soliciting three years ago when she was still a teenager, bailed out by a local dirt-bag who claimed to be her guardian.

"Sweet old Uncle Sergei, that nice man with the doggies."

Apparently, Oksana and Sergei had had a falling out when she went to work at Titans. She failed to catch the eye of the newly widowed Bernie Mishkin, who they both assumed was rolling in dough; then she latched on to Nick Vigoriti.

"Never one to say no to the horizontal hora, Nick took her out a few times, then they cooled off. At least he did. She was still looking for that sugar daddy or meal ticket. You know you're lucky she didn't lead you into a trap where some of her Ukrainian buddies slapped you around. Or worse."

Winters let the words hang in the air for effect. I couldn't have been so wrong about Oksana. That girl was terrified. Still, she did admit to telling the Michelin Man about me. Was he the one who'd ransacked my place? And she'd told him about Lucy. I'd called all of Lucy's numbers a dozen times since her first text message. Where the hell was she?

According to Winters, Lucy wasn't considered one of the missing. If you're over the age of eighteen in the state of Connecticut and there doesn't appear to be any evidence of foul play, you're just gone.

"So how long does she have to be gone before she's missing?"

"You're not listening. It's not a time thing. No evidence of a crime, no missing person."

"So, poof, someone's gone, just like that?" I asked.

"Just like that."