Free True Detectives by Jonathan Kellerman Page B

before that it was
The
Riptide. I don’t know exactly how old it is, but probably at least forty years.”
    Making that sound antique. Liana suppressed a flinch.
    “No more
the,”
she said. “Industry honchos thought it was hip-per.”
    “No, they were cheap. A storm knocked down part of the sign. They stuck on that neon martini glass instead.”
    “Subtle,” said Liana.
    Rau chuckled. “This is tragic, Laura.”
    “What is?”
    “I meet a highly intelligent woman who looks like a movie star and she’s smart enough not to be impulsive.”
    Liana smiled.
    “I guess if you did agree to go off with me, I’d wonder about your judgment.” He shrugged. “Story of my life. Ambivalence and second-guessing. My ex said it drove her crazy. My lack of quote unquote ‘constructive recklessness.’ Why it took eleven years and division of assets for her to reach that insight, she couldn’t explain.” Deep blush. “Sorry, that was stunningly awkward and inappropriate.”
    “Hey,” said Liana, “you’ve been through it. Three months is pretty fresh.”
    “Papers came through three months ago. We’ve been separated for three years.”
    His look said it had taken him a long time to give up hope.
    “Steve, I, for one, appreciate that you understand about the need for caution. A girl can’t be too careful. Even in a nice place like this.”
    Rau didn’t answer.
    “It is a nice place?” she asked.
    “Never seen a brawl,” said Rau. “And Gus keeps his eye on the inebriation level. Yeah, it’s nice. Back when the celebs used to show up— two, three years ago—it could get… a little different.”
    “Different, how?”
    “Long stays in the bathroom.” He touched his nose. “Obviously underage girls, fake I.D.’s. People getting up and dirty-dancing when the music didn’t call for it.”
    “Sounds like fun.”
    “Gobs, Laura. I stopped coming for a while. Things are a lot quieter now, and I’m sure the owners are feeling it in the pocketbook but I, for one—and I’ll bet I speak for all the regulars—don’t miss those days.”
    “Celebs,” said Liana. “They do get entitled.”
    Rau got more aggressive with his beer, taking two deep gulps. He dribbled a tad and wiped his lips with his napkin.
    “How come the egomaniacs don’t come here anymore, Steve?”
    “They moved on, Laura. That’s what they do, it’s all about the Next Big Thing.”
    “Ah,” she said.
    Rau emptied his mug. Looked over at the bartender but when Gus pointed to the tap, he shook his head.
    Liana said, “So two years since it’s been celebbed up.”
    “Two, three. Here’s the irony, Laura: Back then, with all the bodyguards and drivers and such hanging around, you’d think it would’ve been safer than milk. But that’s when there were some problems.”
    He wrapped both hands around the empty mug. The music had switched to Brian Wilson singing about the wonders of his room.
    “What kind of problems, Steve?”
    “Forget it,” said Rau. “Last thing I want to do is spook you. Because I
do
want you to come back.”
    Staring at her. Soft brown eyes.
    Liana said, “I’m a big girl.”
    “Not important—ancient history.”
    “Come on, Steve. I don’t spook easily.”
    Rau knuckled his forehead. “Brilliant, Rau.”
    “What happened?”
    “I’m not saying it had anything to do with this place. I’m sure it didn’t, because it happened outside … oh Lord, I’m
bad
at being single.”
    Liana wet her lips with Seabreeze. She’d taken in maybe a quarter ounce, felt sharp and on her game as she waited the guy out.
    He said, “You really want to know?”
    “I do.”
    “A girl who worked here—in the dining room, as a hostess—back then they served more food—she left after her shift was over and was never seen again. But nothing happened to her here—we’re talking a year and a half ago, something like that… so I guess some celebs were still here. At least that’s the way I remember it. The irony,