True to form, the police had focused on him as a person of interest. Always suspect the family member first. They’d questioned him about why he hadn’t reported the boy being missing for more than four hours. He’d said he’d been tied up that afternoon in a meeting with an automobile repair man and gave them Savos’ name as a witness.
But today was productive. He’d spent it first communicating with his Michigan distributors via the Virtual Private Network he set up on the second-hand laptop he’d picked up for cash. The VPN made the communications untraceable back to the computer’s IP address and his location. On the same laptop he stored the coded records of his receipts, not only from Michigan but Northern Ontario as well. This was an accounting he’d do once a week.
The Bitcoin payments were working out well with only minor startup problems. It was Savos’ job to keep track of the daily fluctuations of the currency, charging the distributors the correct amount for goods received. The coins would be deposited in Urban’s account and duplicates of the transactions would be forwarded to his Virtual Private Network address. The whole system was untraceable as long as Savos and his computers were well hidden from all but the most exhaustive search. Yes, Savos was a potentially weak link, but Urban needed someone other than himself to deliver product across the border.
He poured a well-deserved helping of Glenlivet into a brandy snifter, breathing in the peaty aroma. He would spend the rest of the evening working on the update report for tomorrow’s Rotary meeting. The new mall project was important if he was going to find a way to launder this new influx of cash.
But those are the kind of problems you want.
~ * ~
“Rice Krispies or Cheerios?” Eddie asked. He’d learned the hard way that Joey was averse to any food that was not bland in color or had sharp edges like the Wheat Chex he’d tried before.
“Ch-eerios, please.” Joey sat at the kitchen table, his favorite #24 race car parked, lined up perfectly with the orange juice carton.
It was day three. Eddie and Marly were no closer to a solution as to what to do with Joey than on that first night. She had come home from work early yesterday, upset over what to do. She’d broken down in tears.
That was an unforgettable moment. Without thinking, he’d put his arm around her…she’d looked so helpless. What followed was—shit, it was magical!—like in a movie! She had turned around, put her arms around his waist and clung to him.
They stayed that way for a long time—seemed like forever—before Joey tugged on his shirt.
“Are you mmmm-aking love?” he asked, which got them laughing.
They spent the remainder of the day playing and reading—rather being read to—with Joey. Marly had brought home some chicken breasts and new potatoes which she whipped up into Eddie’s first home-cooked dinner since leaving the house of his aunt.
Later, after getting Joey to sleep in the spare bedroom, they shared two beers on the living room sofa before Marly rose, pulling Eddie along. She led him upstairs to her room.
Eddie was no virgin, but he had never truly experienced the act of love until then.
~ * ~
It was a little after 9am on the next morning that Eddie heard someone rapping on the front door. Marly had left for work much earlier, kissing him goodbye like they were a pair of old marrieds. Joey was still asleep when Eddie looked in on the way downstairs to answer the knock.
The door opened onto a guy maybe in his fifties. Full head of white hair, chinos, white shirt, tie and jacket.
“Yeah?”
“Excuse me, my name is Campbell. Is Marilyn Quinn at home?”
The question threw Eddie. He’d seen her full name once on the rental papers, but doubted he’d ever heard it used.
He had the presence of mind to reply, “Who are you?”
“I met her earlier. She came to see me at Social Services. I’m working there.”
“Yeah? What about?”
The man ignored the question. “And you—?
“This is my house. I rent a room to Marly…Miss Quinn.”
After glancing at a note, the man said, “Then you are Mr. Hoyne?”
“Look, mister. If you’re looking for Marly, you’re out of luck. She’s working.”
“Sure. I just thought she’d want to talk some more about the boy.”
“What boy?”
“The one she babysits.”
What the hell! “I don’t know nothing about that!” The man didn’t say anything but seemed to be looking past Eddie into the living room. “So, if you don’t mind, I got a lot to do,” he said, starting to close the door.
“Give her this!” The man thrust out a card. “It’s my mobile number. She can call me whenever she feels the need.”
Eddie closed the door but not before the card found its way into his hand. He turned to the living room where the three of them had been playing after dinner. Joey’s cars were still lined up in precision along the carpet’s border.
At the top of the stairs, Joey stood in his underwear, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
~ * ~
It was late afternoon. Andy had staked out the Hub Trail all day, watching for drug exchanges. She’d wasted half that time following a suspected pusher back to a car dealer where she found he was employed as a mechanic. She’d followed the wrong person, assuming the pusher would be a man and not the middle-aged woman he been talking to. Frustrated, she’d returned to the detachment to find Arnold at his desk, his nose in the newspaper.
“That kid is still missing,” he said, looking up and flipping spectacles atop his baldness.
“Suspects yet?” she asked.
“The father will be, of course. Family first, you know. He’s a single parent. The housekeeper says he’s had trouble handling the boy. No other clues.” He studied her for a moment. “How did it go?” he asked.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“That bad? Well, I’ve done better then, I’ll wager.”
“If you don’t rub it in,” she said, “I’ll listen.”
“I got a name for that assailant from the manager of the Stage Door. His last name is Hobbs.”
“That’s all?”
“Well hell…so far!” Terry pulled his face into a pout.
Andy released a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m being pissy. Is he from around here?”
“The manager didn’t know. I’m searching the database for anyone with that name and a record.”
~ * ~
Andy was writing up a description of the woman at the Hub when Terry returned holding a printout. “Raymond Hobbs, aka Ray ‘Teach’ Teacher, multiple assault charges in Toronto and Windsor. Also, a murder charge in Windsor that didn’t lead to a conviction. He had an alibi the prosecution couldn’t break.”
“Photo?” Andy queried.
“Bet your life! I’m off to the hospital for a positive ID on this guy. If he’s still in town, we’re on to something.”
“Nice work, Arnold,” Andy said half-heartedly.
But he’d already grabbed his raincoat and fedora from behind the door and was on his way out.
Her phone buzzed, showing a 249-area code. “Blake,” she answered.
“A most professional greeting, I must say!” It was Kevin Campbell.
“I suppose you really mean ‘macho.’ I never know how to answer my mobile. Most of them are OPP-related.”
He laughed. “I like it.” After a pause he said, “I wanted to tell you what I was doing today. It has to do with that girl I told you about. The one that visited me at Social Services.”
“About the autistic boy?”
“Yes. It seems she’d been there before…having to do with finding affordable housing. The receptionist recognized her; gave me a name—Marilyn Quinn—and an address.”
“You went there.”
“I did. A guy about her age answered the door. Seemed somewhat defensive and surprised when I mentioned her babysitting a boy with special needs. I’m not sure,
but it looked like kids’ toys on the living room floor…like some kid’s spending more than just a little time there.”
“And you’re telling me why?”
“Something seems wrong. The house owner’s name is Edward Hoyne, twenty-two, single. I looked up the property tax records. The girl’s been living there for less than two months. I can’t see parents of a special-needs boy entrusting him outside their home to that environment. I need you to tell me what I can legally do to intervene.”
Andy didn’t hesitate. “Nothing…not from the information you’ve given me so far.” She paused before adding, “Look, you say she came to you seeking advice. Sounds to me she has the boy’s interest at heart. Why not give her some credit? Maybe she thinks the parents aren’t giving enough attention to the boy’s needs. I think you need more to go on before you get the authorities involved.”
She could almost hear Campbell processing what she said. Then he answered. “You’re right! See? That’s why I called. Now…when can I see you again, Miss Blake?”
Nineteen
Eddie was waiting at the door when Marly came home that evening.
“What’s wrong?” she said, searching his face.
“Uh…nothing…well, something.” He told her about the visit of “some guy from Social Services” who said she’d come to see him. He handed her Campbell’s business card.
“Yeah. Yesterday morning,” she allowed.
“What the hell! What are you thinking? Getting people to stick their noses into our—”
“I had to know!” She cut him off. “I had to know if Joey’s autistic. I was right.”
“He thinks you’re just a babysitter.”
“I think he’s our answer,” she said.
“To what?”
“To getting this kid off our hands without going to jail! Where is he, by the way?”
“Downstairs playing on my computer. What do you think that guy’s gonna possibly do?”
Marly studied Campbell’s card. “I don’t know, but I like him and I’m gonna find out.” She retrieved her cellphone and dialed.
~ * ~
Mort sat, washing his whiskers, on the best chair in the house, tonight’s meal having been consumed. Andy stood staring out the window at nothing, her mind occupied with what to say when she returned Grant’s call.
Her phone had buzzed on the drive home, displaying his name. It surprised her. She hadn’t thought about him for two days. Was Kevin Campbell the reason? Damned if she knew what to think! She held her breath and punched Grant Stacey’s preset.
“Hi!” His voice on the other end sounded wary.
“Hi. I got your call in the car.” She let it go at that, having nothing to say.
“We haven’t talked in a while,” he said.
She waited.
“So…a lot has happened in just a few days.”
“It would seem so. I talked with Earla.”
“Uh, yeah. Well, things haven’t gone as planned.”
Again, she let him wait before continuing.
“The sale of my business fell through. They couldn’t get the financing. I’m relieved, to be honest.”
“And your house in South Carolina?”
“That, too. It didn’t make much sense with a business to run up here, and you…well, you know…” his voice trailed off.
“So, everything goes back to the way it was,” she said.
“I’d like to think so.”
“I’d like to think so too, Grant, but it won’t be, will it? I was furious with you—no, I was hurt, then furious and I’m not over it.”
“Come on, Andy! It’s not like I wasn’t doing this for you.”
“For me! You don’t get it, do you? If you were doing it for me, we’d have talked it through.”
“Andy, I—”
“Sorry, Grant. I’ve got to take some time to get past this, if I can. Maybe we’ll talk later.” She disconnected.
Mort yawned, stretched, and contemplated his mistress as if to say, “Now that went well, didn’t it?”
~ * ~
Eddie and Joey were eating breakfast when Marly came downstairs. He’d lightly toasted (n--not too dark) an English muffin and spread it with peanut butter, Joey’s rare concession to eating any dark colored food. The muffins were preferred to toasted bread because they were round.
“You’re l--late,” Joey said.
Despite their lovemaking the previous night, Eddie had slept in his apartment and Marly hadn’t argued. The question of whether they were a couple was still undetermined.
“And you’re talking with your mouth full.” She gave Joey a kiss on the top of his head.
Eddie smiled. “You’re working the eleven to seven shift again.” It was a statement, not a question.
They’d stayed up waiting for an answer to the message Marly had left on Dr. Campbell’s phone, but it hadn’t come.
“Yeah. You going to Savos?” She dropped a piece of bread into the toaster.
“Nah.”
“Eddie! You gotta work off that debt.”
“I don’t know. Something’s changed. I don’t go over the bridge as often once they stopped bringing those manila envelopes back over. Must be getting paid some other way.”
“Go in, anyway. Find something to do for him, or he’ll make good on busting your ass.”
“He’s a crook, Marly, I—”
“You owe him money, Eddie. You gotta get out from under.”
“I gotta watch the kid.”
“Go in and talk to him this morning. I’ll watch him for an hour or two. See what Savos has for you.”
~ * ~
The Corvette was in its space when Eddie arrived at Savos’ shop. He wondered when and where Nick Savos slept. He was always in the shop. That trip to Joey’s father’s place was the only exception he’d experienced.
There was the blue pickup Eddie recognized parked, as well. Eddie shut the door to the Taurus and pushed his way into the shop.
“Get the fuck outta here!” the goon named “Teach” shouted at Eddie.
“I say who comes and goes here!” Savos shouted back. The two had obviously been arguing and were in an elevated state of ire. “How many times I gotta tell you,” Savos continued, “I don’t need you being seen around here!”
“You gave me a job to do…I did it.”
“I told you to rough him up, not fuckin’ kill him! Now I see somthin’ in the paper about it. The cops get involved, the guy could finger you. And then you show up here. Are you fuckin’ brain-dead?”
“You owe me for that job.”
“I always paid you!”
“Not since you kicked my ass outta here!”
Savos reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills Eddie thought could choke an elephant. “Here!” He peeled off at least a dozen bills that looked like hundreds. “Now get lost before you have the local cops, the OPP and the Mounties bustin’ down my door.”
Teach counted the bills, glared at Savos, and brushed passed Eddie on the way to his truck. Savos watched him go, then turned to Eddie. “What do you want?”
“I wanna know if you need me, Nick. I gotta pay off my debt.”
“For chrissake fuck off, will ya? I got more to think about than you. I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Okay, if you say so. Just keep that ape away from me!” Eddie didn’t wait for a response, happy to be away for the time being. He held no illusions the debt would be forgotten, but he’d just bought some much-needed time.
~ * ~
Marly was getting ready for work when the call came in. The number she’d dialed on the previous night showed on the recycled phone she’d bought for herself. She answered with a tentative “Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Quinn. I got your message.”
She had left word with Dr. Campbell, saying she’d gotten herself into a predicament having to do with the autistic boy in her charge, and thought he could be the person who could help. “Yeah. I thought if yo
u came out here to talk it might be better than there.”
“I can be there in ten minutes,” he said.
“No…make it an hour, okay?” she wanted time to call in sick at the diner, give Eddie time to return, and clean up the mess in the kitchen and front room.
“That’ll work fine,” Campbell said. “See you around eleven.”
She was finishing up in the kitchen when Eddie walked in the back door. “Where’s Joey?”
“Upstairs. That doctor is gonna be here in a few.”
Eddie looked stricken, despite having known about Marly’s call to Campbell. “What are you gonna say?”
“The truth, Eddie. We did nothing wrong. We need someone with creds to hear your story.”
“Oh, shit! Nobody’s gonna believe it!”
“Eddie! Go pick up the crap in the front room, then go get Joey. We gotta tell him about the man who’s coming to see us or else he’ll flip out.”
Eddie got Joey’s hair slicked down and shirt tucked into his shorts, looking as presentable as possible in the clothes he’d worn for almost a week.
“He’s here,” Marly said, peering from the window. She opened the door to invite him inside.
~ * ~
Eddie thought the doctor was less intimidating sitting on the sofa in a short-sleeved shirt and jeans. Campbell had no trouble engaging Joey, encouraging him to share some of his interests, even getting him to laugh. He even got Eddie to tell a little about himself and how he came to own this house. When he found out Marly was from Sudbury, they shared their common experiences about the place.
Marly had waited before dropping the bomb about who Joey really was for which Eddie was grateful, but when she did it was without preamble.
“I’m not babysitting Joey. Neither is Eddie.”
Eddie watched Campbell’s face for a reaction. It remained impassive.
Marly pushed on. “He showed up at our door last week, and that’s the truth!”
Campbell turned to Joey, sitting next to him on the sofa. “Want to tell us about that, Joey?”
“Joey ‘n Eddie. W-e’re friends.”
“How did you get here, Joey?”
“T-aurus. N-nineteen nhh-eighty-six.”
Eddie interjected. “That’s my car, but I wasn’t in it.”
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