Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,53
waitress gave me a sly wink.
“Yeah.” I blushed. “It’s sort of crazy.”
“Not really.” She poured coffee in each of our mugs. “I mean, if your best friend is marrying a liar, you’re doing him a favor.”
I slapped my hand down on the countertop. “That’s right.”
Betsy took a sip of coffee. “Regardless, we can’t find any trace of her around here, so we’re not helping anyone out today.”
The waitress wrinkled her nose. “You sure she’s from here?”
“Absolutely sure she is. I mean, she said that she went to South Summit high school.”
“No kidding?” She put the coffeepot back on the burner.
Betsy’s eyes lit up. “Did you go there?”
The waitress adjusted her blond ponytail. “I did.”
“You did?” Kim grinned at me.
“Sure did.” The waitress moved to grab a plate under the hot light. “I’m Hannah. So what’s her name?”
“The family name is Von Longorial. Er, Long, I guess.” When no sign of recognition crossed her face, I added, “They supposedly own most of the waste management facilities in the area.”
Hannah looked at us with a perplexed expression. “Doesn’t the city own them?”
“Could the city rent or lease the buildings and lots from a private land owner?” Betsy asked.
“I don’t know…possibly. Hey, Hal?” Hannah cut a slice of pie and put it on a plate for an old man at the other end of the counter. The old man reluctantly raised his eyes off his paper. “Who owns the waste facilities?”
“The state owns the main waste management facilities. But the private one? Portland Waste? Well, the city bought those properties a few years ago. Before that, they were leasing them from some Portland bigwig. What was his name?” The old man spoke in a raspy smoker’s voice, and the front of his shirt was streaked with oil. “West. It was Blakely West and his family. That guy who owns stock in some damn computer company, and now his family owns half the city. Damn Republicans.” He went back to his paper, and started in on his pie.
Kim raised her water glass at Hal. “Hear, hear.”
I focused back on Hannah. “So now the city owns all the facilities?”
She shrugged. “If that’s what Hal says, I would trust him. He’s worked on darn near every truck in this city, including the garbage trucks.”
Betsy craned to look at Hal again. “Excuse me? Hal?”
He looked up with a scowl and a speck of pie on his lip. “What?”
“You work on the city’s garbage trucks?”
“Most of them. City’s got a contract with my boss.”
My eyes widened. “Then do you know anybody by the name of Von Longorial. Er, Long?”
“Von…long….go…what?”
“Von Longorial,” I pronounced slowly. “But that’s her stage name.”
“Ain’t nobody driving a garbage truck around here with that crazy ass name.” He went back to his paper with a grunt. “Stage name. Huh.”
I looked back at Hannah, my heart sinking. “I think I’m looking in the wrong place. Maybe I misheard where she went to school.”
Hannah went to check on some tables, and Kim began messing with my hair, murmuring, “I think you should sit in my chair this week and let me lighten your hair a bit more. You’ll look hot if you go to a cool white blond for the wedding.”
“Heaven forbid I mess up Alicia’s wedding photos with my crazy hair.” My voice was lackluster.
“Did you say Alicia?” Hannah came back around the counter.
“Yeah.” I took a sip of my coffee.
Hannah covered her mouth and cracked up. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Alicia Long? I should’ve put two and two together.”
Kim and Betsy both sat up straight. “What? Why?” Kim asked.
Hannah folded her arms across her chest. “Because everyone around here knows her.”
“How?”
Hannah’s smile grew tight. “Alicia Long, or Von Longorial, or whatever she calls herself these days, is a celebrity in her own mind.”
“Give us the dirt on her,” Betsy demanded.
“First off, her name isn’t Ah-lees-ee-uh. It’s Uh-lee-shuh.” Hannah washed the counter as she spoke. “She changed the pronunciation when we were in high school. Started making the teachers call her that during her sophomore year. And her last name isn’t even Von…long…whatever the crap she calls it…”
“Von Longorial,” I said.
“Yeah, what’s up with that stupid name?” Hannah laughed dryly and wiped a napkin dispenser. “That didn’t change that until she graduated and moved away. When she was here, she was plain old Alicia Long. Her parents are Joyce and Roy Long.”
“Roy Long?” Hal grumbled from behind his paper.
“You know him, Hal?” Hannah grabbed a stack of paper napkins and began rolling them around