Page 12 of All In
I raced forward and yanked the receiver out of her bewildered hands. I put it to my ear and said in a rush “Hello? Don’t hang up.”
My ears burned, poised to hear Kacey’s voice—rich and clear, with a little gravel at the edges.
“Is this Teddy?”
It was a man’s voice. Disappointment caved my chest in.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, turning away from Viv’s raised brows. “Who’s this?”
“Name’s Mike Budny. Listen, this might be a long shot, but do you know a girl by the name of Kacey Dawson?”
I froze.She’s dead.
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I know her. She was my brother’s girlfriend.”
“Thankfuck,” the guy said. “I been making long-distance Hail Mary calls all day, looking for a tattoo artist in Vegas named Teddy. Do you have anyideahow many tattoo shops Vegas has?”
I squeezed the phone. “You found me. What’s going on?”
She’s dead.
“Yeah, listen, do you know her family? Or a friend? Someone who can help her out?”
“Me,” I said, like staking a claim. “I’m a friend. Where is she?”
“New Orleans. I’m a bartender at a club called Le Chacal. She sings here every Thursday night. You getting all this?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I fumbled around Vivian’s desk for a pen and paper, ignoring her frantic gesture at three other calls flashing on hold. “New Orleans. Chacal. Thursday nights.” I scratched the words down stupidly, as if I’d forget where Kacey was now that I’d found her.
“How is she?” I asked at the same time the bartender said, “How soon can you get here?”
The panic in my chest ignited and tightened. “Fast. Tomorrow if I have to. Why? What’s wrong? Is she okay?”
“No, man.” The sigh he exhaled was somewhere between relief and resignation. “She’s pretty fucking far from okay.”
I hung up with Mike feeling like a runner at the start of the most important race of his life. Vivian was yammering at me, but I hardly heard her. My heart was pounding, and my stomach twisted as I made a mental list of all the stuff I had to do to get to Kacey as fast as possible.
In New Orleans.
She went halfway across the country to drink herself to death.
“I gotta go,” I said, snatching my black jacket off the coatrack. “Cancel the rest of my appointments.”
Vivian stared. “Cancel your… Where are yougoing?”
I headed for the door. “Call Gus for me. Tell him I gotta leave town for a few days. Family emergency.”
“A few days?Gus’ll lose his shit. He’ll fire you.”
“Just call him, Viv, okay?” I pushed out the front door without waiting for a reply.
I raced to my truck and sped down the Vegas streets, equal parts frustration and relief. Cursing at every red light while wanting to cry like a baby because I’d found her.
The rest of my conversation with Mike Budny echoed in my head:Drunk all the time… Keeps to herself, no friends… They call her the Drowned Girl, and man, it’s true. She’s fucking drowning.
I had a second chance to make things right.
I hit another red light and slammed the heel of my hand on the steering wheel, then honked the horn. The sound howled in the desert air, then faded away to nothing.
