I didn’t have the bumper sticker here. This was an eighth-of-an-aisle hair-product area, stuck in the back of Rite Aid like it was the back of the bus. And I was in a car with no idea where the registration or insurance was located. I’d been too distracted to ask, and now I was paying for it.
Karma indeed.
I ran down the rules, then temporarily replaced Super Black Woman with Perky Black Girl and hoped for the best. The cop took his time getting to me. If it was an intimidation tactic, it worked. I spied him in the rearview mirror, all white and bald but with the ruddy complexion of a redhead. I sucked at guessing people’s ages, but I pegged him for a well-kept white forty-five. （Black forty-five was a completely different thing.） He looked like he belonged to the Anytime Fitness I’d passed on my way in and viewed the name as a personal challenge.
My hands on the steering wheel, I counted Mississippis until he finally sauntered over. My window was already down so I heard the whistle. It was not directed at me.
“Santorini black.”
I said nothing, just pasted on that Perky smile while I wondered if I should be offended.
Another whistle. “A 2019 Jaguar F-Type First Edition R-Dynamic. Only comes in three colors. Zero to sixty in four point nine seconds. I’ve never seen one in person before.”
He finally bent down and smiled like he was expecting me to congratulate him. He had a slight gap and pretty pink gums.
“I’m going to assume I’m not arrested,” I said, still smiling.
“Disappointed?” He looked at the car, whistling again. One more time and I’d suggest he switch careers to construction. Satisfied, he nodded to the Dodsons’ duplex. “Them two got some sort of old-lady turf war going on. Wanna spend their last days trying to get the other arrested. Last call was reporting the Dodson lady for whistling. Apparently that’s illegal here.”
“So you just broke the law.” I smiled, still in Perky Black Girl mode. “Should I make a citizen’s arrest?”
“If you’re gonna haul me in with this car, I might consider it.” He waited a beat before speaking again. I could practically see him putting on his official cop hat. “You lost?”
“Not at all. I just left the Dodson house. I’m looking for Karma.”
He smiled again. More gums this time though same amount of gap. “Of course you are. Can’t even say you’re the first person in a fancy car looking for that girl. She ain’t in there. A good thing. Trust me.”
“She doesn’t live here anymore?”
“Haven’t seen her,” he said. Then, “You should probably go. Maybe not come back.”
I gestured back at the house, at the neighbor who hated whistling. “I’m sure you’ll know if I do.”
He took a step back as I turned the car on and pulled away. I waited until I was in motion to wave. I waited a bit longer to flick the middle finger at the snitch next door.
Erin’s car had Bluetooth—for a First Edition, I wouldn’t expect anything less—so I called her as soon as I turned off the block. “They called the cops.”
“Karma?”
“Her neighbor. The mother’s probably asleep inside.”
“How high is your bail? I can have my finance guy wire it to the police station.”
For once I understood why rich people had so many friends. “I’m not in jail,” I said. Yet. “He let me go. I’m on my way back.”
“Great. I should be done soon.”
“I’ll drop the car off at your place in Chelsea.”
“Cool. Text me when you’re on your way. Just park it on the street if I’m not there. I’ll move it to my garage when I get home. You can give me the keys later. I have another set.”
Of course.
After we hung up, I had every intention of getting back on I-78. But I wasn’t ready to go. Not when I was literally twenty-five feet from the answers I needed.
I decided to waste a few hours in town, then risk trying my luck again. Though I still had no appetite, a restaurant felt like my best bet. I pulled out my phone and found the Jersey girl version of comfort food. A diner.
The Tick Tock diner was the same glossy silver as an Airstream. It had the look of a place that claimed “World Famous Burgers” without sharing any definitive proof. Their array of oversize desserts should come with an expiration date.
When I got inside, all I saw was mauve. Mauve walls. Mauve tabletops. Even mauve name tags. My waitress was named Sophia. White with dark brown hair and black-rimmed green eyes, she looked like she subsisted on a steady diet of salads and YouTube makeup tutorials. She had the disposition of someone who still believed the world could be theirs.
It was a bit too early for the lunch crowd so I practically had the place to myself save for two trucker types minding their own business at the counter. Perfect. I took a four-top by a window in the back. Sophia waited patiently as I sat and checked a menu so thick it could rival a Cheesecake Factory’s.
“I’ll take a burger,” I said.
“No.”
“Okay, then.” I chose the next photo I saw. “Spaghetti.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Salad…？”
“Definitely not.”
Finally, I closed the menu. “What would you suggest?”
“Grilled cheese.”
“Works for me.”
She smiled then, flashing her Invisalign and taking my menu. “You the one camping outside the Dodson place?”
I had been, but still. “Nosy Neighbor called you too?”
“That old bat? Nope. Try Broadcastify. It’s got police feeds. Someone reported a sports car.”
“Santorini black,” I said. She just looked at me.
Sophia sure was a nosy one. I decided to make that a good thing, especially since I was in no rush to get my plate. “You know Karma?”
She had to. Even with the makeup pancaked on and just missing syrup, her face looked young. According to the DOB Stu had sent over, they were probably the same age. “We went to school together,” she said.
“Friends?”
“Ha. No one was Karma’s friend. Closest she had was Lisa, and she slept with Lisa’s boyfriend during prom. Not before. Not after. During.”
Not exactly the work of a Good Samaritan in the making, but still. “The cop made it sound like she’d moved.”
“Yeah,” Sophia said. “I mean, I woulda been surprised if she hadn’t. She talked about it enough. I figured she’d lead a ticker-tape parade out of town as soon as graduation was over. But she stayed a couple of years, pretending to go to classes at LCCC. Then one day, like a year or so ago, she just disappeared. Poof. Vamoose. Gone off the face of the Earth.”
It was the last thing I wanted to hear. “New York?” I said, hopeful.
She thought it over. “Maybe. Bev over there thinks she’s someplace exotic, like Paris. I’m thinking LA. Miami. Someplace you can rock cleavage all four seasons. But maybe you’re right. She’d go to the city every weekend. Someone swore she had a boyfriend in the Village.”
I perked up. Desiree’s accident had been in the early hours of a Saturday. Maybe Karma was Zor-El after all. “She ever mention seeing a bad car accident while there? It’d be a couple of years ago.” Sophia shook her head. I went a different track. “What about a celeb sighting? She ever mention meeting Desiree Pierce?”