The Truant Officer v5

by Derek Ciccone

Darren took his first real look at the girl. She had a natural pretty face and wore little make-up. Her skin was fair with a cluster of freckles around her nose. He didn’t understand why such an attractive girl would choose such a severe look, with the pink streaks and the wire fence of earrings on the top part of her ear.

  Darren searched for the name LaPoint gave him, and then remembered, “Rebecca, right?”

  “Rebecca Ryan, but everybody calls me Becks,” she said and simultaneously handed him the pile of textbooks she was hugging close to her chest. “My boyfriend used to carry my books for me—very 1950s, I know—but he ran off with your wife, so I figure you owe me one.”

  Darren instinctively defended, “We need to reserve judgment until we hear her side of the story.”

  “I have some prom photos that show her side of the story, if you’d like to take a look at them some time.”

  That one hurt. Becks began walking swiftly down the hallway like the rest of the students. Darren followed her closely, carrying her books, and he wasn’t sure why.

  “All I’m concerned about right now is her safety. Once she’s safe, then we’ll figure out the rest,” he said robotically.

  Becks sarcastically rolled her eyes. “And by safe, do you mean did Brett wear a condom?”

  If she weren’t a teenage girl, he would’ve punched her. But he could tell she was equally hurt, and just displaying it in a different way. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

  “I have senior English next period, but no worries, I got a sub. My teacher got abducted by a gang member or something like that.”

  She kept digging in the knife and Darren kept taking it. It was like she was providing the anger and hatred he couldn’t summon for Lilly. In a strange way, it felt cathartic. Maybe that’s why he kept following her through the hallway and out the double-doors into the glare of the bright morning sun.

  Becks arrived at her outdoor locker. Her progress was impeded by a couple intertwined in a make-out session. The looks, fashion, and technology had changed since Darren was in school, but some things remained a constant.

  “Will you two get a room,” Becks shot angrily at the couple and physically shoved them away from her locker.

  The girl, the attractive blonde cheerleader type, shot Becks a look to kill. “Maybe we can share a room with Mrs. McLaughlin and Brett.”

  The boyfriend, the stereotypical jock from pick-your-movie, laughed. “Better be nice, Tara, or she’ll have her dad beat you up.”

  They both looked at Darren and laughed the cruel, mocking laughs of teenagers. He got it—he was the dad in their scenario. But the good news was they didn’t recognize him.

  “I was thinking about rebounding with you, Evan, but then I remembered I’m not a lesbian,” Becks fired back at the boyfriend. The other locker minglers didn’t even give a second glance. Darren got the idea that these types of outbursts weren’t unusual for her.

  “Sorry, I don’t go for the clown hair,” he got the last word as the couple sashayed away.

  Without missing a beat, Becks demanded her textbooks. When he handed them to her, she flung them into her open locker to the sound of twanging metal. “That bitch ruined my life,” she screamed.

  Darren knew she meant Lilly, not the cheerleader. He again started to defend her and was met by an angry jab of Becks’ finger.

  “Don’t you dare stick up for that slut,” she screeched.

  “Stop calling her that.”

  “You’re right—by running off across state lines with an underage student, that would make her a pedophile and a kidnapper. Sorry for my poor choice of terms, but my English teacher has been a little distracted the last month, so my language skills are a little off.”

  Becks tossed a backpack over her shoulder and began stomping away in her flip-flops. Darren stood in stunned silence, watching her pink and blonde hair bounce like a pompom.

  She turned back to him with an annoyed look. “What are you waiting for? Let’s blow this joint.”

  “Don’t you have to get to class?” Darren asked, as he trailed her toward the student parking lot. “I’d hate to see you get that suspension.”

  “I told you, I have a sub. Besides, book learning is overrated. I’m going to incorporate what I learned in your wife’s class into the real world.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s been teaching us Shakespeare. You know what Billy Shakespeare was into?”

  He said nothing, afraid to ask.

  “Revenge. Do you know what the best revenge is, Darren?”

  “Living well, I think,” he said hesitantly.

  “Wrong. It’s going to Vegas and killing my cheating boyfriend and your slut wife.”

  Chapter 27

  Lilly rarely met a risk she didn’t like. But they were really pushing things with this side trip. All Nick would tell her was that he had “something to take care of.” The intensity in his face deterred all further inquiries.

  Nick drove the SUV into Henderson, a suburb of Vegas that advertised itself as the fastest growing city in the US. Lilly had no idea where he was headed, but a city of exploding population didn’t seem like the best place to find anonymity.

  They entered a sprawling suburban neighborhood that looked very similar to the one she and Darren lived in back in Chandler. Nick appeared to know exactly where he was going, and drove into a driveway of one of the homes. He hopped out of the vehicle with a purpose and Lilly followed him to the front door, where Nick impatiently rang the bell.

  A mustached man answered the door, and Lilly could tell that he knew Nick. He didn’t look thrilled by their unannounced visit. The man was rail-thin with unhealthy looking pale skin, probably in his fifties. He wore only a pair of swimming trucks with a towel hung around his neck.

  He ran his bony hand through his wet hair. “You shouldn’t be here, Nick,” he warned. His tone seemed more worried than angry. “You and your teacher friend are all over the news.”

  Nick made the introduction, “Lilly McLaughlin, this is Detective Tony Dantelli. He is the lead investigator in the murders. And the one who arrested Alexei Sarvydas.”

  Dantelli ushered them into the house and shut the door. The interior was very “Vegas,” draped in gold and leather, while the walls were covered in plasma TVs as if they were paintings. “Nick, I’m just a lowly cop, and no trial expert, but this can’t be helping our case.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Nick said coldly.

  Dantelli picked up a phone and began to dial. “I’m going to call Eicher and have his men pick you up. We need you in one piece for next week.”

  Nick took the phone from his hand. “I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”

  Dantelli looked perturbed, but escorted them through a set of French doors into a backyard with a desert landscape motif. A large swimming pool took up most of the real estate. He led them to a glass table, where a breakfast spread was set up.

  He smirked. “I love Vegas. Back in New York I’d be sitting in my closet-size apartment trying to decide if the day was more cloudy or overcast. And I don’t need to tell you about the women, Nick.” His eyes roamed over Lilly’s body, making her feel uncomfortable. His vibe was creepy.

  As Dantelli dug into a fruit salad, Nick viewed the yard and its trimmings. “I like it—although, I must say the feds put me up in a nice place, the Buckleys own a very lucrative software company.”

  “But I’m sure it’s nothing like that castle you grew up in back in Long Island.”

  “I’m surprised you chose not to go into protection. Testifying against Sarvydas doesn’t sound like it’s good for the health.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t sticking around New York with all his thugs there. So I took early retirement and moved west. No way was I putting my life in the hands of a bunch of federal bureaucrats who can’t stand the NYPD. I’ll take my chances with my own protection. I‘ve been known to be a pretty good shot.”

  “Yeah, you sure are,”
Nick continued calmly, “especially when you did all those hits for Sarvydas. I’ll bet being on his payroll is the best protection a man can have. Who needs the feds when you have Viktor Sarvydas watching over you.”

  Dantelli almost choked on a slice of melon. He looked up, startled. But before he could even respond, Nick leaped off his seat and picked up a pair of hedge-clippers. He pounded the handle into Dantelli’s forehead, knocking him to the ground.

  Lilly was astounded by the turn of events. Nick turned to her, his face on fire. “What Detective Dantelli failed to mention, was that he worked with Sarvydas to set up Karl’s murder. Then, after the deed was done, he returned as the first officer on the scene and acted like a hero.”

  “Is the heat getting to you, Nick?” Dantelli asked angrily. “I’m the lead investigator in this case. I’m going to be testifying against Alexei Sarvydas next week. Now why would I do that if I was working for him?”

  Nick walked up to him like a lion stalking prey. “Are you saying you didn’t do jobs for Viktor Sarvydas!?”

  Dantelli hesitated. Big mistake. Nick dragged him to the pool and dunked his head. After about fifteen seconds, he pulled him up.

  “We both want the same thing, Nick. We both want Alexei put away,” he said in between gasps for air.

  “Sure—until you magically change your testimony at trial and he walks. I can assure you we’re not on the same side, you dirty cop.”

  This time Nick dunked him scary-long.

  “No, Nick!” Lilly screamed out.

  But he wasn’t listening. He jerked Dantelli’s head out from under the water. The cop’s cocky smirk was gone, replaced with fear. “You haven’t answered my question—do you work for Viktor Sarvydas?” Nick shouted.

  “C’mon, Nick.”

  “Answer the question!”

  Dantelli was boiling with anger. Lilly could tell he was used to doing the pushing around. “Hell yeah I did, and I can only hope he lets me be the one to cut you into pieces when he finds you!”

  His head disappeared under water again. When Lilly looked into Nick’s distant eyes, she was sure he was going to kill him.

  Chapter 28

  “Why didn’t you go to the police if you knew this?” Lilly desperately asked Nick, as he continued to hold Dantelli’s head under the water.

  “He is the police, Lilly! They all work for Sarvydas. I don’t know who I can trust—I have to take care of this my way.”

  Lilly didn’t like the sound of that. “Please, Nick—don’t do it. You’re better than him.”

  He lifted Dantelli out of the water and belted him in the face.

  “So how many innocent people did you kill while pretending to protect and serve?” the former law student sounded like a prosecutor. He also appeared to be the judge and jury.

  Dantelli desperately sucked air into his lungs. “Sarvydas called the shots, but nobody was more ruthless than Karl Zellen. And I did so much work for your father that I’m practically part of your family, Nicky.”

  This sent Nick into another rage. He began pounding Dantelli unmercifully.

  “No, Nick!” Lilly shouted.

  He turned to her. “I thought you of all people would understand, Lilly.”

  “I do understand, Nick. That is why you can’t do this. You can’t let the anger beat you.”

  For a brief moment, he appeared to be accepting her words. But the anger won out. He grabbed a handful of Dantelli’s slick hair and dragged him along the poolside deck, scraping his skeletal knees and leaving a trail of blood. Nick picked up the hedge-clippers in his free hand and a chill came over Lilly. She tried to scream again, but this time nothing came out. She resigned herself to the fact that Nick was going to kill him.

  Nick tossed Dantelli on the diving board. He didn’t try to run away or fight. Perhaps he was just hoping to die at this point. Nick raised the hedge-clippers and Lilly prayed to any god who would listen.

  And her prayers were answered, at least momentarily. Nick walked to the side of the pool and fished out a couple of life preservers. He used the clippers to cut the ropes away from the preservers, before returning to Dantelli, who appeared only semi conscious. Nick tied him tightly to the diving board with the rope.

  Dantelli’s body was limp, but his beady eyes were no longer glassed over by shock. It was like he had stored one last reserve tank of energy to fight. “Go ahead and kill me, Nicky. Killing was always your destiny. You’re the son of a killer and now you’ve grown up to be just like him.”

  “Shut your mouth!”

  “It’s in your DNA—there’s no turning back now. Your father tried to hide his murderous ways, but he was more depraved than any of them.”

  Nick punched him again—he was going to make this long and painful. More blood trickled into the pool.

  Lilly made one last attempt. After betraying her husband, she wasn’t exactly on the moral high ground. But she never did the deeds of her own father. She never murdered or sold drugs to children. Nick didn’t have to be like his father. “Nick, please let’s just get out of here. It’s our life—it doesn’t matter what our parents did.”

  Another cocky laugh from Dantelli recaptured Nick’s focus. “Killing me is the smart move, Nicky. The last thing you want to do is go to trial, and without you or me, there is no case. A trial would bring out all that dirty laundry of the Sarvydas and Zellen families that led up to your parents’ murders. You’ve got to kill me to save your myth, Nicky, so go ahead and kill me!”

  Nick turned to Lilly. “Give me your panties.”

  The request caught her off guard. “What?”

  “I said give me your panties!”

  He was in a rage and in no position to be argued with. She reached under her short skirt and removed them.

  Nick grabbed the underwear out of her hands and shoved it into Dantelli’s mouth. He then raised the hedge clippers to Dantelli’s throat.

  As he did, he looked at Lilly. She felt the same powerful connection as on the day he first walked into her classroom. The same class where she had taught him Frost, the poet whose most famous work ends by choosing to take the road less traveled. Her eyes implored Nick to do the same—revenge was the easy path.

  After a tense moment, he dropped the clippers and tears began to roll down his face. Lilly ran to him and hugged him tightly. She could have stayed there in that embrace forever. But time was getting short.

  She took his hand and led him to the SUV. They headed for the airport.

  Chapter 29

  Zubov eased his rental car to a stop beside the curb in a quaint neighborhood in Henderson, Nevada. Mothers pushed strollers, and joggers—one American custom he would never understand—ran by in the heat. It seemed like your typical boring suburban neighborhood. But he had arrived to add a little excitement, at least for this day.

  He checked himself in the car’s mirror and came away impressed. Not bad for a man in his fifties who had been in the killing business for over forty years. It was a business that aged many, and those were the lucky ones. He ran his stubby fingers through his short-cropped hair and fluffed his salt and pepper mustache. Satisfied, he stepped out of the rental car and adjusted his Armani suit. He was on a business call, and believed one should always be well presented when conducting business.

  His enemies liked to say he had contempt for all things living. But that wasn’t completely true. He admittedly did remove emotion from the equation—the way business should be conducted—but he took great pride in that he’d never harmed an innocent person. That wasn’t to say he didn’t like his image, or use it to his advantage to inject fear into his opponent.

  It was a myth that began in Chernivtsi, a small city in western Ukraine. By age nine, he was known throughout the country as one of its best pickpockets—a tremendous honor in Ukrainian society. He made his first kill at age eleven, and didn’t stop until he was incarcerated in the most inhumane of all the Siberian gulags.

  It was there he met Viktor Sarvydas.
They formed a bond of vors, and Zubov later followed him to Brighton Beach in the early eighties.

  Zubov and Sarvydas worked for “Psyk” Miklacz, the don of Brighton Beach, a man Zubov thought had no honor because he would harm and torture the innocent. Their big break came when Sarvydas married Miklacz’s daughter, Trina, making him royalty. And soon after, the opportunity to seize control presented itself.

  From that time on, Zubov became Sarvydas’ top soldier as they set out on a quest for world domination, often fighting off their arch-rivals, Stevanro Parmalov and the Moziafs. That was, until those bastards finally grasped that joining Team Sarvydas would increase their life expectancy. A merger that Zubov was against from the outset.

  Zubov casually strolled toward the house, smiling at a young girl riding her bike. He chuckled at how soft American kids were raised to be—helmets to ride a bike!? The desert sun scorched his face. He had detested the desert ever since spending time in a stifling Israeli prison, but he didn’t plan to be here long.

  He found the door unlocked and walked in. It looked like he wasn’t the first guest to arrive at the party. He wandered through the house, impressed by the plasma TVs, while the smell of cigarettes gave him a craving. He quit six months ago and it was the hardest thing he ever had done in his life.

  He found Dantelli by the pool, tied to a diving board. He couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic sight before him. He walked up to him and removed the panties from Dantelli’s mouth. He assumed they belonged to Lilly McLaughlin. He’d developed a fondness for her from afar, and not just for her beauty—he respected her fearlessness. He looked forward to meeting her.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Dantelli greeted him rudely.

  “Is that any way to talk to an old friend,” Zubov said, still admiring the underwear. “I was trailing Nick and his lady friend. According to my information, they were here.”

  “Your information always seems to be a day late and a dollar short. Now untie me so I can go kill that little punk.”