49. Eddie

"Tell me about it!" Bonnie could have kicked herself for not making good on the chance to escape before the subject of Eddie could arise. All it would have taken was a tiny white lie… "I've been expecting him to visit the Conservation Station anytime these last two weeks, but he's been a no-show."

"The reason I ask… he may have mentioned we were seeing each other pretty steady for a while there…"

"Now that you mention it, he did say something about the two of you last time I talked to him. Something about having a ton of fun and a lot of laughs."

Val perked up noticeably. "He said that? I was wondering, you know, because he hasn't called or come by lately. I texted him a few times, too — just a 'Hey, there! How's it going?" — but no answer."

"That's Eddie for you!" Bonnie shook her head with not-entirely-feigned annoyance. "He's always dropping off the face of the earth without the least warning. It's maddening! He's going to get an earful from me next time he surfaces, I guarantee you!"

Val paused a moment to take this in. "So, it's a regular thing with him? He disappears, and doesn't contact anyone?"

Bonnie nodded. "Standard Eddie Booth operating procedure. Usually, he's incommunicado for a few weeks, but there've been times he was out of touch for more than a month."

"Wow! That's really… weird. How's he explain being gone so long?"

"He doesn't. He just pops back up whenever, and acts like nothing's happened. And it's no use asking questions. If he answers at all, it's always in the vaguest possible terms, which is Eddie's subtle way of saying 'back off.' He even told me once I was better off not knowing, for what that's worth."

Val's eyes grew round with conjecture. "Do you suppose he's a secret undercover agent, like for the CIA or one of those private security outfits? That could be why he's so mysterious."

"It wouldn't surprise me." Bonnie preferred to think Eddie's clandestine activities were more in the nature of interventions on behalf of friends, or friends of friends, who found themselves in dire straits, but the principle was the same. "Our grandfather worked for the FBI, so some of that passion for bringing down bad guys could've rubbed off on him. Or, not." She shrugged elaborately. "There's just no knowing. But I think it's safe to say, whatever's behind this most recent vanishing act has nothing to do with you. Or me, for that matter."

Val brightened with nascent hope. "Then, it wasn't anything I did, or didn't do?"

"Exactly! It's not you. It's him."

"So, he could still call when he gets back from wherever."

"Er… Sure." Bonnie's attempt to spare Val's feelings had, apparently, been only too successful. "You do know, Val, that Eddie's not a good bet for a long-term relationship, right? From what he tells me, he's usually pretty upfront about that."

"Yeah, we had the 'keeping things casual' talk. But people change."

"I wouldn't bank on that with Eddie. Don't get me wrong: he's a great guy, with lots of admirable qualities, but staying-power isn't one of them. He doesn't stick, not with anyone or anything. Not for long, anyway."

Val regarded her skeptically. "He's never had a serious girlfriend?"

"Well, Eddie being Eddie, I can't be one hundred percent certain, but if he has, he's kept her completely under wraps. He's brought a few women home to meet the family over the years, but it's never been the same one twice. No, hold on." If she was going to badmouth her cousin, she could at least be fair. "There was one girl…"

"Let me guess," Val broke in. "Deena, right?"

Thrown off-stride, Bonnie could only stare a moment in confusion. "I… er, no. I was going to say Terry, Eddie's high-school flame. Who's Deena?"

"You don't know? Eddie calls her 'Aldina' when she's being especially irritating." Val waited for signs of dawning recognition, but Bonnie could not oblige. "Aldina Clemens?"

The full name did ring a bell, but so faintly as to be useless. Bonnie shook her head.

"She owns and operates a bar called Paradise Lost. The place comes as advertised, let me tell you. I wouldn't normally set foot in such a dive, but it's Eddie's favorite hang-out for some reason."

It came to Bonnie then: an Aldo Clemens, former priest and one-time proprietor of Paradise Lost, had been her grandfather's close friend and spiritual advisor, a man so valued and trusted he had officiated at her grandparents' wedding. He figured in several photos taken at the ceremony, a trim, dark-haired gentleman with soulful eyes and, even on so joyous an occasion, a rather melancholy air. He had met with a sad end, Bonnie seemed to recall: a downward spiral into addiction, insolvency and ultimately a brutal death. Her grandparents had always spoken of him in sober tones and with palpable grief. "I know the place you mean. Are you sure this Aldina owns the bar, though? It belonged once to an Aldo Clemens…"

Val nodded. "Her grandfather."

That gave Bonnie pause. Among the tragedies of Aldo's life, as she understood it, were his never having found his soulmate or fathered children. "She inherited the bar? I thought Aldo sold it, or was bought out by a partner, before he died."

"That's the official version, but apparently there's a whole lot more to the story. The way I heard it, Deena was brought up to believe her grandfather was cheated out of the bar by one of his employees, Tom something or other. Supposedly, this Tom guy introduced Aldo to heroine, and kept him supplied pretty cheaply with some high-grade stuff until he was good and hooked, and then, he claimed he couldn't get him any more. Aldo had to start buying from regular dealers, and the price was so steep, he went through his money in no time. Eventually, he was so desperate for cash, he sold the bar to Tom for a fraction of what it was worth. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, Tom made up stories about Aldo stealing from the tip jar and getting violent with customers so he'd have an excuse to throw him out on the street. To hear him tell it, he was the victim, when all along he was the one who took advantage of Aldo and brought him down. Some scumbag, huh?"

"If it's true. Did Deena take him or his heirs to court? Is that how she got the bar?"

"I don't know all the ins and outs, but I got the impression it wasn't exactly handled through legal channels. Eddie helped her out somehow, that much I know. Not that you'd ever guess from the way she treats him. She's always rude to him and uppity, like she can barely stand him. Every so often he tries to give her advice, or he makes some harmless comment about the bar, and it's 'you're not the boss of me,' and 'if I wanted your two cents, I'd ask for it.' I figure, what with all the hostility, they were probably an item at some point and then, went through a really nasty break-up. The tension's so thick between them sometimes, the air practically crackles."

Bonnie resolved on the spot to swing by Paradise Lost at the first opportunity. A woman impervious to Eddie's legendary charms was a specimen rare enough to deserve scoping out. "Does she work at the bar as well as own it?"

"Oh, yeah. Mostly she's behind the counter, but she's not above waiting tables. Eddie gets after her to hire more servers, but she ignores him. I guess, after what happened to her grandfather, it makes sense."

Bonnie could sympathize with Deena's trust issues, but what she couldn't fathom was Eddie's behavior. Why would he continue to frequent a seedy watering hole where he was subjected to abuse and generally made to feel unwelcome? It was not his temperament to submit meekly to aggravation and disrespect. Unless… She could envisage a scenario in which their grandfather, having learned of Deena's existence and her contentions regarding Aldo's death, had taken it upon himself to provide support and assistance to his old comrade's granddaughter. He would have enlisted Eddie to deal with the practical details, and, once the bar had been restored, by means fair or foul, to Deena, Eddie would likely have been detailed to keep a benevolent eye on her in case she could use additional help or guidance. If Deena was as fiercely self-reliant as Val made her out to be, she would naturally resent having a watchdog set on her, especially, Bonnie suspected, if she was young and inexperienced enough actually to need one. "How old is Deena, would you say?"

"Twenty-five," Val answered without hesitation. "She carded me once — just to be a royal pain, mind you — and happened to notice we were born the same month and year." She smiled dryly at the surprise Bonnie wasn't quick enough to hide. "You thought I was older."

Bonnie had pegged her as close to thirty, in fact. "It's just… well, Danny's five…"

"I was nineteen when I had him, eighteen when I got married."

"Really!" Bonnie wasn't comfortable with the sudden turn the conversation had taken, and floundered for something to say that would not be construed as encouragement. "That's… awfully young."

"Too young. I wasn't ready to be a wife, let alone a mother."

"Not many teenagers would be."

Bonnie held her breath, but for a wonder, Val picked up on her unwillingness to play the role of sympathetic listener, and did not pursue the subject. "You have to run, I know," she said, putting a polite spin on Bonnie's reluctance to indulge her. "Thanks for letting me chew your ear off. No, no! Leave it," she insisted, when Bonnie would have cleared away her trash. "I'll take care of it. You don't want to be late."

Bonnie slipped gratefully out of her seat, and stood an awkward moment by the table. "Thanks for lunch, Val." It was good talking to you. Let's get together again soon. My treat next time. The usual phrases came easily to mind, but she couldn't bring herself to say them with any sincerity. "I'll be sure to call Danny this coming Monday at seven, as we agreed," she said, instead.

Val's lips turned up in the semblance of a smile. "Okay, great. Have a good weekend."

"You, too."

Bonnie smiled in farewell, and was about to turn away, when Val stopped her with, "One last thing before you go? If you should see Eddie…"

"I'll tell him you were asking for him."