"Hopefully."
Hal leaned back in his chair. Sun reflected from his forehead and confused the camera for a moment. I looked down at the keyboard. "Kramer relayed a job offer. It's in New Mexico."
"Oh, excrement."
"Exactly. Good news, bad news."
"I have begun to ponder the notion that you may be in the wrong business anyway, stallion. Imagine the money you could make if you started getting paid for all of this . . . extra-curricular activity."
"Just imagine." I stared at the screen, my face letting him know I considered that a terrible idea.
"It was just a thought."
"Believe me, Hal, sometimes I do think about changing careers, but I suppose I enjoy it enough to keep going."
"Really?"
"Well, the therapy part, anyway."
"Consider carefully. Mick Callahan, Private Eye."
"Sounds like bad television."
"And your point would be. . . . ?"
"Up yours, old man."
We both grinned. Hal said, "I just have to ask you one question, Mick. It is a very serious question. Do you love this young policewoman? Love her enough to seal the bargain?"
"If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't have to come to you for advice."
"That seems slippery, and perhaps beneath you."
I leaned forward. "I love Darlene, Hal. How much and in exactly what way is the question. And to be honest with you, if I proposed I don't think she'd accept, for a lot of different reasons."
"Give me two."
"We fight way too often. My work makes me travel. Finally, she is dedicated to her own career."
Hal pursed his lips. "Unfortunately, those are very good reasons."
"I know."
"I feel like a stroll along the sand," Hal said. "May I check back with you later this morning?"
"Sure, or I'll call you."
"How are the finances, do you need anything?"
I shook my head. "You're very generous, as usual. Jerry has plenty of cash for what he's doing, Lopez is caught up, and our other expenses have been covered."
"Do you require a loan whilst unemployed?"
"I'm fine. Go study butt cheeks."
"I shall, I assure you. I shall indeed."
We broke the connection. I sat back in the chair and rolled backwards, away from the computer just as my fax machine whirred and began printing. Two pages of text arrived; a cover sheet from a public machine and a one-page fax from Darlene. As I studied it, my stomach sank to the hardwood floor and even did a bit of mopping. When it rains, it freaking pours. . . .
It took me a good five minutes to work up the gumption to dial her on the cell. She picked me up from caller ID. "First, I want you to know I just put in for some personal time. I get the distinct feeling you're going to need all the help you can get. I'm on leave when I wrap up my shift this afternoon."
"I don't know what to say."
"Try you're beautiful, sexy, and I love you more than life itself."
"You're beautiful and sexy and I love you more than life itself."
"Once more with feeling."
"Later. I'll work on it, I promise."
The humor was a bit forced. We both knew it. Finally, Darlene said, "Did you get my fax? I sent it from an office supply on Vineland in North Hollywood."
"Yes, it just arrived."
"And?"
I sighed. "To be honest with you, Darlene, I'm feeling pretty strange right now."
"Me, too."
"Because I don't know how to take this."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," I said quite carefully, "last night you were complaining about being dragged into a bunch of new problems and having your career endangered. Today you say you're taking time off to watch my back, and you dig into Mary Kate's past and fax me her jacket."
"No good deed goes unpunished."
"What possessed you to take the risk of running her through the system?"
"Did it ever occur to you to thank me?"
"I sincerely thank you for being in my life, Darlene."
"Mick, I'm trying to help."
"And I appreciate that. But this is my sister we're talking about, not some lowlife we just stumbled across. Suddenly reading about her past problems with the law sort of gives me the creeps."
Uh oh. Darlene was steaming again. "Mick, just in case you need glasses, Mary Callahan, your newly discovered sister, has used the alias Mary Catherine Carter. She has an open warrant in Texas for failing to show up for sentencing on a DWI. She's also been busted for kiting checks, case dismissed for lack of evidence. Oh, and she was once charged with prostitution but charges were dropped when she turned State's on the escort service."
"Okay. Okay."
"Look, nothing personal, but she doesn't seem like the kind of girl that should have the spare keys to your car or access to any of your finances, and I thought you should know."
"Okay, now I know."
Darlene took a deep breath. I heard voices approaching her. "I have to go," she said. "And, Mick? It gets worse. We were right. According to CSI they found some of Bud Stone's prints at the Gordo murder scene. There's a warrant and an APB on your friend as of this morning. I'm sorry."
The phone went dead. I closed my eyes. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too."
Twenty-two
"You've got mail."
I opened my eyes again, checked the screen. The E-mail said "may have found that Range Rover for you." I deleted the obsolete message and stared at my hands for a long beat. Wondered if it was really time to put up or shut up with Darlene. I couldn't fathom the idea of being married. I had enough trouble trying to get along with any woman for more than a couple of months.
Something caught my eye. A second E-mail had been caught by the spam filter. I didn't recognize the E-mail address. Almost on a whim, I opened it up. It was a text message. It read: ITS ME. PESCI BEHIND MESS. MORE SOON W/C L8R BONE. I had the palpable sense that things were finally breaking our way. My heart began to pick up speed.
I suddenly realized I hadn't given the radio job in New Mexico another thought. That awareness didn't please me. More violence. What if Hal was right? Maybe I was born for pain and chaos, but part of me hoped not. It clashed badly with the man I'd intended to become. In school they showed us something called the Johari Window, a sketch that showed how little a man can actually see of his own, true personality. The human capacity for self-deception never ceases to amaze. Including my own.
Someone tried the front door. Had I locked it? I was on my feet in a half second, and headed down the hall. The person stepped into the living room.
Mary Kate and I stared at each other for a long beat. Then we surprised ourselves by melting into a hug. I rapped two fingers on the top of her head. "You scared me. I thought you'd taken off."
She'd been crying. "I meant to." Mary Kate reached into the pocket of her jeans, took out two twenty-dollar bills, put them in my hand and forced my fist closed. "I stole this from the coffee can in the kitchen."
I didn't say anything, but kept the money. Waited, watched. "I went to the liquor store down the street," she said, "the one with the Mexican name. I was going to get some beer. There was an old guy out front, passed out. His pants were soaked with piss. I don't know why, but that really upset me."
I stepped back. "Go on."
"So I go into the store and over to the booze, you know? I find the beer section, and open the glass door but just stand there. And the icy air feels so cool, so nice. I can taste a cold bottle of beer like it's already on my lips, but I don't reach for the six-pack. I just stand there in the breeze. My arms get all bumpy and the sweat dries on my clothes. Finally the guy behind the counter, he clears his throat real loud, it's like someone clapping their hands, meaning it really startles me, snaps me out if it."
"What did you do?"
Mary Kate was still there, in that funky liquor store. "I let the door close. Step back. And suddenly I don't want a drink. I jus
t want a good cry." She looked up at me. "Does that make sense?"
"You want me to take you to a meeting?"
"Now?"
I shrugged. "I haven't been to one myself in quite a while. Now seems as good a time as any."
"Can I think about it?"
My gut told me this was not a good time to push. I smiled and nodded instead. "If you don't go wandering off."
Mary Kate brightened and smiled back. "Any more coffee?"
"I'll put some on." I wandered into the kitchen and made another pot. "Do you want me to whip up a protein shake?"
She made a face. "Sounds gross."
"It's not, really. Chocolate or strawberry with half a banana and some fresh fruit. I've gotten used to them."
"Yeah, well you seem to work out a lot. Okay, guess I can give it a shot."
I brought out the fixings. "Mary Kate, if you're going to stay glued to me today, be advised I have to do a lot of running around. Some of it might seem a little weird, and discretion will be necessary."
"Discretion?"
"Fancy way of saying you'll have to keep your mouth shut."
A big smile. "Why, Mick Callahan, are you breaking the law?"
"Let's just say I have been known to bend the rules." I went to the counter and dug a sharp knife out of the drawer. Laid it to one side and washed some fruit. "And I'm dead serious. I need your word."
"Sure. What's this all about?" Mary Kate moved next to me and started cutting up the strawberries.
"It's kind of complicated, but I'm helping out an old friend. He's in trouble with some very shady people."
"What kind of trouble, if you don't mind me asking?"
"The kind that starts small and turns out big."
Mary Kate cupped her hands around the strawberries and dropped them into the blender. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "I know something about that kind," she said sadly. "Does he have the law on his ass, too?"
"As of this morning."
"Well, then I'll have to be kind of careful," Mary Kate said. "I have a live warrant in another state. I can't afford to get nailed for anything. That's one of the reasons I didn't want to call the cops when Talbot beat me up, you know? Something would have turned up, and then where'd I be?"
She'd told me the truth, and almost casually. That felt good. Still, I couldn't help but wonder. Did Mary Kate have any ulterior motives for looking me up, like maybe thinking I had serious money? Darlene had planted the thought in my mind, and it had a surprising amount of traction. And what if we stumbled across the missing drug money Bud needed to pay off Pesci? Would some cash grow legs and walk away?
Mary Kate was looking at me. I hadn't responded. "We should be able to keep you away from the cops."
"Then let me give you a hand."
I considered. My sister sighed. "Look, I can't go anywhere without money or friends. I'm scared of being alone and terrified of Talbot, mostly because I will probably have to shoot his sorry ass if he touches me again, you know? And I sure as hell don't want to sit around your house climbing the walls, wanting to drink. Let me make myself useful."
"I'll think on it."
The cell phone rang. I left my sister in the kitchen and jogged around the house trying to remember where I'd left it. It was on the stereo. Another text message. Jerry wanted to talk and was online. I went to the computer and his face appeared on the screen. His burn scar was suffused with blood, probably due to excitement.
"I think I figured out how they fooled us. It started with the rental of that Range Rover Faber and Toole drove to Vegas and back. We didn't find any other credit card records because somebody mirrored them off Faber's history."
"Mirrored?"
Jerry held up a piece of paper with some numbers and a sketch of what seemed like computer screens. "They used some damned fine tricks to switch the charges to another account and then another, just kind of bounced them around, so that stuff appeared paid for but it was always a bitch tracing the costs back to the original account numbers. You can get away with that for a while sometimes before the card people catch on and stop it. They did that a couple of hours ago, shut down Faber's account."
My pulse quickened again. "So? Do we know where he is?"
"That girl you talked to at the rental company gave us the records, but they were useless. Well, that's because it was only what now turns out to be a mirrored address, okay? So what I had to do was trace it back through the scam to the original. The one they were trying to hide."
"You've got it?"
"I've got it." Jerry focused on something behind me and stopped talking at once. I spun my chair.
Mary Kate was in the doorway. She'd heard every word. I turned back to the screen. "Jerry, meet Mary Kate Callahan. My half sister."
"Howdy. Where did she come from?"
"It's a long story, Jerry. Anyway, go on."
"The house is paid off, no mortgage. The guy on the title is some old fart name of Anderson. He lives in San Diego. In other words, it's a rental property. My guess is Faber and Toole paid someone to lease it in a different name. I got it off an old application for a gas card. They've been hiding in plain sight, Mick. In fact, right under our noses."
Jerry gave me the address. It was maybe four or five miles south and east of me, in a decent area called Valley Village. I whistled. "You really figure this is where they're staying?"
"If it ain't they sure went to a hell of a lot of trouble to hide it, comprende? I mean, why bother unless you plan on hanging out by the pool and don't want to be bothered any time soon."
We heard the vague screech of tires as someone had a fender bender up the block. "Brilliant work, Jerry. Way to go. I really owe you one." I smiled and began to turn off the computer.
"Wait. Don't."
I stopped. "Don't what?"
"Don't move on this. Let me ask Donato to turn us on to somebody that plays rough. A pro that can check this out."
"Why risk another man's skin? I'll do it myself."
"Think it through, Mick. Maybe you don't want any of this to have your scent on it. For starters, you can't tell Darlene. She would need to immediately report it to her bosses, or IAD would toast her buns for good. It's a Murder One warrant, my man."
"Sit on this for me, Jerry. I'll get back to you."
Jerry frowned. "You'll think about what I just said?"
"I promise." I signed off, turned to Mary Kate.
"That poor boy," she said. "What happened to his face?" I told her the whole story. "His foster mother burned him with an iron? God, that's awful." Mary Kate's eyebrows arched in query. "You said you were going to think about what he said. Well?"
I grinned. "I did. And I'm going."
She laughed with a mix of excitement and surprise. "Then I'm going with you."
"Not this time. He's right, it could be dangerous."
"You can die on the freeway," Mary Kate said, "or up at the end of your block, from the sound of it." She crossed her arms. She looked ten years old and cute as hell. "I'm not letting you go alone."
I didn't want to leave her in the house by herself. I sighed. "We'll just have a look, and beat feet after, okay? If they seem to be there, or there's any real possibility of trouble, we'll take off and get reinforcements. Fair enough?"
I put the address in a search engine and got directions. We went out into the harsh sunlight just in time to hear an ambulance arrive. I watched my sister take a quick and nervous look around. The accident up the block had gathered a crowd of pedestrians, and now neighbors' cars were coming and going as well. That made it impossible to know if Ed Talbot was nearby.
Although it was clear that the house was quite near the Hollywood Freeway exit, I took surface streets and a few deliberate wrong turns. I thought one brown Ford stayed on our tail for a while, but it was hard to be certain.
"What's your ex-boyfriend driving, MK?"
"Talbot hot-wires a lot of his rides, but as of last night it was a brown Taurus."
"Think he's s
killed enough to tail us without being spotted?"
Mary Kate hugged herself and cracked a thin smile. "Ed is good at a lot of things people shouldn't be good at."
"I may have seen him a couple of minutes ago, can't be sure. If it was him, seems to be gone now."
"Shit, I hope not."
"Me, too."
Mary Kate laughed softly. I raised an eyebrow in query. "You just gave me my nickname," she said. "You called me MK."
"So I did."
"I kind of like it."
We drove down Colfax and had to pause to let a stream of adolescents saunter through the crosswalk. This was a nice, middle-class LA neighborhood, meaning the home prices were through the roof because it was close to a decent public school. We got to Moorpark, turned, went a couple of blocks east and turned north again.
The street came to a dead end. The day was hot and many houses were closed up tight. Air conditioners hummed like purring lions. Large fans spun rapidly in prefab windows. Most of the cars were gone, and those that were left bristled with sunlight reflected from hubcaps and fenders like shards of broken mirrors. I parked several doors down, left the keys in the ignition and the engine and air-conditioning running. Mary Kate's eyes were wide.
"You don't even have a gun, do you?"
"Not with me." I shrugged. "I don't much like them, they tend to escalate things. Besides, I don't plan on being here long or attracting much attention. Just want to see if anyone is living there, and if so, could it be Faber or Toole."
"That's it?"
"That's all." I patted her hand, gave her my cell phone. "Get over in the driver's seat and wait for me. If anyone else shows up, and it looks like trouble, honk the horn twice, wave at one of the other houses like you're saying goodbye to somebody and just drive away."
"Drive where?"
I thought for a second. "Did you notice that coffee shop a ways back, the one by the freeway? Go and get something cold to drink. I'll meet you there."
Mary Kate nodded. "Okay. Watch your ass."
I got out, slammed the door and rapped my knuckles once on the windshield. Turned my back on the car, looked around carefully. It was too damned hot for anyone to be hanging around their front yard. I figured we'd have some time. I jogged closer. The house we wanted was compact, most likely a two-bedroom with one bath. It was painted green and white and had a small backyard. I walked by and took a quick look. Closed up tight, but so was every other place in the neighborhood. Couple of warning stickers in the windows, but probably fake. No sign of a real alarm system.
One of the Wicked: A Mick Callahan Novel Page 18