by Scott Cook
I sighed, “Shade says he didn’t put a bomb on Wayne’s car last night.”
“Yeah… how convenient,” Lisa grumbled.
“I wonder…” I pondered, draining half my beer. “I wonder… it’s not unusual for copycat criminals to pop up on a sensational case. Wonder if last night…”
“Or he’s fucking with you,” Lisa said. “Wants to throw you off the scent.”
We ordered lunch and I asked Lisa how her interview with Bryce had gone.
“They let him out of the hospital and he’s recovering at home,” She said. “He’s still a prick, if you’re curious. He didn’t remember me at first. Actually tried to come on to me, if you can believe that.”
I scoffed, “Really? A knockout like you shows up at the cat’s door and he hits on you? Weird…”
She grinned, “Well, when I told him I was working with you, he sure turned into a sour puss. Said he didn’t know anything and that even if he did, he sure as shit wouldn’t tell you. Then he got rude.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
“He said you were a pompous, arrogant, overblown bag of dog shit that couldn’t empty water out of a boot with instructions on the heel,” She said with evident amusement.
“Did he also call me a Denebian Slime Devil?”
“Yes! And he said that you were an overbearing, swaggering, tin-plated dictator with delusions of Godhood,” She said with a twinkle in her eye.
“And that’s when you kicked him in the balls?”
“Well… no,” Lisa said, scandalized. “You said not to cause trouble… and I didn’t see that it was worth fighting over.”
I cleared my throat, “Ahem… so what started the fight?”
“They called the Enterprise a garbage scow… sir!”
I laughed, “And that’s when you hit the Klingons.”
She laughed with me.
“I’m so glad you get these obscure references,” I stated.
“I don’t’ think The Trouble with Tribbles is that obscure,” Lisa pointed out. “Anyway, you’ve exposed me to all this stuff.”
I shrugged, “Just passing it along, love. So in short, Bryce was a prick and we’ve learned nothing.”
“Yeah pretty much.”
“I wouldn’t say that we’re entirely in the dark,” I proposed. “We do know a couple of things. They may not mean much yet, but we do at least have a few puzzle pieces.”
“Okay… but what action can we take? I mean… we don’t even have the edges, so we can at least start putting the puzzle together. What can we do to move forward instead of just waiting around to react?”
I sighed, “Good question. I don’t like the situation either. Shade is in total control and we’re just watching and waiting. At this point, though, I don’t see that we have any choice.”
On the way back to the office, I got a call from Pauli Franco.
“I’m just calling’ to let you know we’re good,” He said when I answered.
“I know… we’ve been keeping tabs on you.”
“Nah, I mean we don’t need you to do that anymore,” Paul clarified. “I got four of my guys on the job. Watching me and Marie twenty-four seven.”
“Paul… you had two of your guys on Marie the other night and look what happened.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, and I had you and Lisa on her too. So seems to me I might as well use my own people.”
“What does Marie think of this?”
“I’m on board,” she said from the background. “Don’t take it personal, Scott… it don’t mean we don’t appreciate what you done.”
“Yeah, this ain’t prejudicial,” Pauli said, almost sounding proud of his term. “Just business.”
“Okay, if that’s what you both want. Let me know how everything goes, though, huh?”
Well there went one line of communication, or at least option. Of course… that didn’t mean I couldn’t still keep tabs on the Francos. The fact that Shade had targeted them must mean something.
For now, though, I just had to wait. Not my favorite thing…
At a little after seven the next morning, Orlando firefighters were called in to deal with a vehicle fire reported behind a small abandoned shopping center on Orange Avenue about a mile south of downtown.
It turned out to be two vehicles in fact. A small RV and a small coupe had been set ablaze and were so destroyed by the fire that investigators felt that they would find very little evidence. However, they did find that there had been a person inside the motorhome.
After the fire had been put out and what was left of the vehicles had cooled enough to be sorted through, there wasn’t even enough left of them to get serial numbers. However, it turned out that there was enough left of the body to identify it through dental records.
Although there apparently was no fingerprint record on file for Thomas P. Lissard, the FBI did have dental records. It was discovered that the decedent was not in fact a southerner named Lissard but a man named Anthony Soares of Cranston, Rhode Island.
I would find all this out, and more, several days later and from a most unlikely source.
Chapter 11
I got the call about Wayne a little before eight the next morning. I’d just gotten out of bed and got the coffee going when my phone dinged. That was early for many, so I thought that was odd until I saw that it was Wanda Jackson, Wayne’s mother.
Wayne’s father had run off when he was very small. He barely even remembered him. Wanda had raised Wayne by herself, sometimes working two jobs and putting herself through nursing school. Somehow she’d managed it and also managed to bring up an intelligent, kind hearted and courageous son who wanted to spend his life serving the city in which he grew up.
The message read only: He’s awake.
My heart began to race as I ran into the bedroom and woke Lisa. Although Wanda didn’t work at the branch of Florida Hospital where Wayne had been taken, she’d been by his bedside since early the previous morning.
“Come on!” I said, shaking her gently. “Wayne’s regained consciousness.”
Lisa’s groggy grumbling at being awakened at such an ungodly hour vanished and she sat bolt upright in bed. She threw off the covers, jumped to her feet… yes, I had a moment to take her nudity in… and struggled into her usual yoga pants and my T-shirt. She went into the bathroom, made a hasty attempt at straightening her hair, mumbled something disreputable and pulled it into a pony tail.
“That must be a record,’ I joked as we headed for the garage door.
“I would’ve been faster if somebody hadn’t given me sex hair!” she accused with a giggle.
“Well, let me know what they looked like and I’ll track em’ down and see that never happens again.”
“The hell you say.”
I opened the garage but instead of taking my jeep, we opted for her Mercedes. She pulled out onto Chickasaw and turned right, speeding up to a velocity beyond the recommended limit.
“Did Wanda say anything else?” Lisa asked.
“No, just that he was awake,” I said, grinning. Then a bolt of sadness struck me. I was thrilled that he was awake… but that didn’t mean he was okay. It also didn’t bring Sheila back and I wondered if Wanda had said anything.
Lisa seemed to catch my mood change and frowned, “Oh, Christ…”
“Let’s just see when we get there. No use in speculating.”
We arrived at the hospital and were told at the front desk to go to room 414. We rode the elevator up, my guts twisting the whole way.
Wanda met us just outside the door to Wayne’s room. She was a pretty woman of forty-six and a little on the plump side. As soon as she saw me, she ran into my arms and started to cry. I thought my stomach was going to do a one-eighty.
“Wanda…” I began. “Is he… is he… okay?”
Wanda stepped back and sniffled, “he seems to be, baby. And it’s all thanks to you. And you.”
She went and wrapped Lisa up in her arms and the two wom
en cried together. I felt like a weight had been lifted. He must’ve talked or something to make her say that.
“He spoke to you?” I asked Wanda.
She stepped back and pulled a handkerchief from her purse and blew her nose, “Yeah… made some wise crack about you, of course.”
“Wanda… did you tell him…” Lisa tried to ask, not quite knowing how to broach the subject.
Wanda took in a steadying breath and shivered a little, “No… he only came out of it twenty minutes ago. I… I wasn’t quite sure how to tell him about poor Sheila. Such a sweet girl… lord, he’s gonna be crushed. He was talking about marrying her.”
I felt my eyes grow hot and had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself, “Can we see him?”
Wanda nodded and smiled a little, “Yeah, come on in.”
We followed her in and I was surprised to see Wayne sitting up in bed and wolfing down eggs, hash browns and toast. He looked up from his tray and grinned, “What’s up, crackuh?”
“Wayne Luther Jackson!” Wanda scolded. Her huge smile gave her away, though. “What kind of language is that? Especially to your best friend!”
“That’s okay, Wanda,” I said, coming over and leaning in to half hug Wayne. “I’ve come to expect nothing less.”
“You should hear what he says to me!” Wayne said with a huge grin.
Lisa came in and got her squeeze in too, “That’s weird… Wayne never says anything but nice things to me.”
“Well, yeah,” Wayne said. “You’re way sweeter than him. And a lot prettier, too.”
“Oh, is that it?” I gybed. “Bigotry doesn’t apply to pretty girls?”
“Nah,” Wayne replied. “It’s not that I don’t like other ethnicities… it’s just you.”
I guffawed, “Man… how many friends do you have?”
“Oh my God…” Wanda groaned.
“It’s okay, Wanda, they’re always like this,” Lisa confessed.
“Don’t I know it, baby girl.”
Wayne reached out and took my hand, “Scott… seriously man… I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, brother,” I squeezed back. “I love you and that’s all there is to say.”
“Okay, now that I’m back from lala land… how’s Sheila? She here too?”
I had to wonder if my face looked even half as crestfallen as the two women. It must have because Wayne set his plate carefully back on the tray beside him and met my eyes.
“Scott… what is it, man? You’re tan just faded away.”
“Baby…” Wanda came over to the other side of the bed and took Wayne’s other hand.
I was still holding his left and it squeezed down hard. I could see real fear in his eyes, and deep rooted pain in his mother’s.
I took a deep breath and cut her off. Wanda had been through enough over the past day and a half, “Wayne… Sheila… she didn’t make it.”
“What do you mean?” He asked in disbelief. “You got us both out… I saw you doing CPR on her…”
“You guys were under for a couple of minutes,” I all but croaked. I could feel the tears threatening again. “The car was on its side… the passenger side. I had to get you out first and then go back for her. We tried… the EMTs tried… the ER tried… but… but she’s gone. I’m so sorry.”
He just stared at me blankly. He didn’t seem to have heard. More probably his mind just wasn’t going to accept what he’d just heard.
His lower lip began to protrude and the grip he had on my hand tightened even more. Even in his weakened condition, he had a hell of a grip. I saw him cut his eyes to the two women and his jaw muscles begin to work.
“Lisa, please take Wanda out into the hall,” I said softly.
“Scott, I ain’t gonna leave—“ Wanda began to protest.
I met her eyes and then Lisa’s, “Please, ladies. Just go grab a cup of coffee or something, huh?”
Wanda nodded and they left. Lisa cast a quick glance at me before softly closing the door behind her. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Wayne.
“Come on, man…” he said pleadingly. “Come on and tell me it’s a joke…”
I shook my head slowly back and forth, a heavy sadness weighing on me. A sadness for Sheila and a sadness for the pain my friend was having to endure.
He sat upright and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face into my shoulder and began to sob. He wailed as his tears soaked into my shirt and it was a heartbreaking sound. A deeply woeful sound of a man who’s heart had been torn asunder and to whom no consolation could set it right again.
“It ain’t fair!” he balled. “Goddammit, Scott… not her… not my Sheila! Why? Why?”
There was nothing I could say. I just held him and let his grief wash over me. After what seemed like hours but was no more than four or five minutes, he pulled back and sagged onto his pillows. He seemed suddenly drawn and weak and deflated.
“Let me alone for a while,” he said coldly.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Just go, man!” He barked, suddenly sounding furious.
“Okay,” I said, getting to my feet. “You want me to send your mom in?”
“I want you to send my girl in, that’s what I fuckin’ want!” he said harshly, real anger in his steadily rising voice. “But I guess that ain’t gonna happen, is it? Too bad the great Scott fuckin’ Jarvis couldn’t have really been there when it fuckin’ counted! Just get the fuck out, goddamn you!”
I walked to the door and opened it. Just before I stepped into the hall, I heard him mutter: “Why couldn’t you have saved her instead…”
I looked back but he wasn’t looking at me. I sighed and trudged back out into the hall, feeling drained and less than useless. Like a failure. I hadn’t come through when it had really counted…
The two women had gone down by the nurse’s station. When they saw me, they hurried over. Wanda saw the wet stain on my left shoulder.
“He okay?” She asked, taking my hand.
I frowned, “He needed to get it out. Don’t think he wanted either of you to see it. But then he got pretty mad… told me to leave.”
“Oh, don’t take it hard, baby,” Wanda said, wrapping me in a hug. “Wayne loves you. You don’t know what you mean to him.”
I scoffed, “Right now I just feel… inadequate. Like I can’t help him or be there for him. Like… I failed him.”
“No you didn’t, baby… if anything, you may have started him on the road to healing,” Wanda chuffed, “Only you could’ve gotten that boy to cry, honey. You and Sheila.”
“I think Wayne’s always kind of seen you as a big brother, Scott,” Lisa added.
“More than that,” Wanda said to me. “I think you’re a little bit of a father figure to him, too.”
I laughed softly, “We’re not even five years apart, Wanda.”
She pulled back and looked into my eyes, “That doesn’t matter. His daddy… his daddy was never around, as you know. When you and he became friends, I think he kind of looked up to you. Yeah, maybe as a big brother, but as a role model, too.”
I snorted, “That’s the last thing I should ever be.”
Lisa scoffed, “Oh, please. Don’t be so fu… darn modest.”
Wanda chuckled, “She’s right. You’re an upstanding man, Scott. You do what’s right. You’re honest, you have a strong character and integrity. You don’t lie and you always keep your word. I think that to Wayne, you’ve got some of those idealistic father qualities that he didn’t have growing up.”
“I agree,” Lisa stated.
“He had you,” I said, trying to brush the praise off.
Wanda smiled, “Oh, I’m amazing, baby, there’s no question about it… but I’m not a man. Do you understand?”
I nodded, “I think so. I just hope he doesn’t stay mad. He… he feels like I failed him, I think…”
Wanda smiled again, “He’s not mad at you, baby. He’s mad that she’s
gone. Just give him a little time.”
“Maybe you should go in,” I suggested.
“I will,” She replied. “Why don’t you two go back home. I’ll call you later and let you know how he’s doing. Don’t worry. I know how he is. You’re one of the most important things in the world to him, Scott… and you two, baby girl.”
Lisa and I headed back down to the parking lot. She could see that I was bothered still.
“Scott, he doesn’t hate you,” She reassured me. “Let me guess… he cried like a baby in your arms, right?”
“Yeah.”
“There you go. He might be a little embarrassed… but believe me, that’s not just a friend finding comfort in his friend. That’s a little boy wanting only what a father can give. One thing a father is is a rock… and sometimes, when you’re hurting, you need to beat your fists on that rock, all the while knowing it won’t break under you… do you know what I mean? It’ll be okay.”
The rest of Sunday was pretty mundane, all things considered. We lounged around the house, had a late breakfast and then took the boys to the dog park. After that, we met up with Sharon and Juan and went to Volcano Bay, Universal’s new waterpark and had fun splashing around for the rest of the afternoon.
It was odd, yet it was a little bit of a catharsis for all of us. A way to ease the pain by coating it in a thin film of normalcy.
On Monday morning, we arrived at my office at a little before ten and found that we had a visitor. A visitor I knew and was less than thrilled to see again.
A well-dressed and well-built black man with salt and pepper hair was thumbing through one of my magazines. He looked exactly as he had the last time I’d seen him. Black suit and brilliantly polished shoes. He stood to his full five foot ten and smiled. He was probably in his mid-fifties, although he exuded a youthfulness and vigor that made it hard to tell.
“Good morning, Scott,” Colonel Warner Grayson said pleasantly. “And is this the lovely Ms. Gonzalez I’ve heard so much about? A pleasure.”