“Are your parents…normal?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mia’s voice was angry.
“No, I mean, physically.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“It’s just that…” He hesitated.
“It’s that what?”
He wanted to say a million things. But he figured anything he said would make it worse. So he said nothing.
Mia didn’t have that problem. “Listen, Gulliver, we all have shit in our lives. Your height doesn’t make you that special. I’ve been lonely. All the men that come into the office are either married or gay. You’re handsome. You’re the most handsome straight single man that’s come into the office in weeks. And when I saw you with what is the ugliest dog in the world…I don’t know. I just liked you. I can’t explain it better than that. My parents aren’t little people. I don’t take home strays. I asked you to dinner because I like you.”
“I…” He didn’t know what to say.
At the next red light, Mia got out of the van. She held the door open and turned to Gulliver. “Tonight’s just not going to work. I like you. And if you ask me out again, I’ll say yes. But you need to do some thinking between now and then.”
“Please don’t do this. At least let me take you—”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Not only didn’t he sleep, he barely shut his eyes. Yes, he was worried about whether Mia had gotten home safely. He had no address for her. No phone number. No way of checking until she was back at work at the clinic. But it was more than that. Her words were still going round and round in his head. Did he think he was special? Was his handsome face the curse he always made it out to be? He had never thought of things quite that way. He couldn’t take it anymore. His head hurt from too much thinking.
Fifteen minutes later, he and Ugly were back doing a post-midnight walk on Ferris Street. This time, Gulliver had brought an led flashlight with him. It was small but powerful. “Kinda like me,” he said to Ugly. Kinda like Mia. Mia was much on his mind.
Tonight if a car appeared out of nowhere, he was ready to shoot first and ask questions later. But this wasn’t to be an aimless walk. He knew where they were going. Straight to the empty warehouse that Ellis Torres and Ugly had once called home.
The warehouse was spooky. The sound his boots made as they scraped along the dirty floor echoed in the emptiness. The flashlight beam cut deep gashes in the darkness. Ugly pulled hard on his leash. This was home. He didn’t need a flashlight to find his way. Gulliver did.
The makeshift apartment the kid had set up for himself and his dog looked different under the harsh light of the beam. But really, nothing had changed. Everything seemed to be as it had been. The mattress. The coolers. The—Bang! Gulliver bumped into something. The ladder. There was something about the ladder. What was it? He struggled to remember. He stepped back and shone the flashlight on it and the photos scattered around its base. He’d thought the kid used it for shelving. But there were dusty, kid-sized footprints on the rungs of the ladder. Footprints that went all the way to the top.
Gulliver let go of Ugly’s leash. He checked the ladder to make sure it was sturdy against the wall. Then he climbed the rungs. Slowly. One at a time. At the top rung, he could just barely see out the bottom of a big window. The kid, being a little taller, would have been able to see more. Shining his flashlight out the window, Gulliver saw enough. This back wall of the warehouse was no more than thirty feet from the water. And just beyond the concrete seawall was a dock.
“What did you see here, Ellis Torres?” he whispered to himself. “What did you see?”
He climbed down the ladder. He needed to see the area behind the warehouse in daylight. For that, he would need[inhohat happened some help. He sent a text message to Ahmed Foster. Ahmed was a night owl, but even owls were asleep by now. Gulliver didn’t expect an answer back until later in the morning. He got Ugly and headed back to Visitation Place.
When he got upstairs, his old-fashioned answering machine was blinking red at him. It was Keisha’s answering machine. He could never bring himself to toss it. He pressed the Play button.
“Gulliver, hi.” It was Mia. “I’m sure you’re sleeping. I just wanted to let you know I got home okay hours ago their horns.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ugly went out of his mind when he came into Ellis Torres’s room. He did flips. Ran circles around the kid’s bed. Squealed. Barked. Rolled over. Then the little mutt jumped all the way up onto the bed. The kid was just as happy to see Ugly. But Gulliver could tell that Ellis’s head still hurt.
Concussions could be really serious stuff. Gulliver knew just how the kid felt. He had had two himself. Bad ones. He never wanted another. The last one had lasted a long time. He’d had a constant headache for weeks. His thinking was confused. His memory was spotty. His vision got blurry. And when he’d moved too quickly, he got sick to his stomach.
It was amazing to watch the two of them together. It was easy to see why people loved dogs. Sometimes it was harder to see why dogs loved people. Not so with Ellis Torres and Ugly. They were a matched pair. The kid started crying as he squeezed the dog in his arms. But things went wrong when he began rocking back and forth with him. Ellis got sick all over the bed and the dog. Not even that bothered Ugly.
Gulliver. Detective Patrick. Detective Rigo. They all stepped out in[. iother directionto the hallway while the nurses cleaned up the mess. The reunion between the kid and the dog had made Rigo a little less nasty. He even shook Gulliver’s hand hello.
Patrick eyed the bandage on Gulliver’s forehead. “What happened to you?”
“Fell down. Smacked my head. Ten stitches.”
“Makes you look tough,” Rigo said.
Gulliver joked, “I’d have to grow two feet to look tough.”
“Not even then.” Patrick shook his head. “Not with that face. You’ve got the face of an angel.”
“Well, I’m the right size.”
They all laughed at that.
“So does the kid remember anything else?” Gulliver asked.
“It seems like he’s remembering something,” Patrick said.
“But then he can’t seem to say it,” Rigo added.
“I’ve gotten bonked on the head bad,” Gulliver told them. “It can really screw you up.”
The nurses came out of the room and told the three men they could go back inside. An African-American nurse with rich black skin like Keisha’s pointed at them. “Don’t you let that boy get all excited again. You understand me? You do and I’ll make you clean up next time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said as one, nodding their heads.
They went back into the kid’s room. Ellis was sitting up in bed. He was rubbing Ugly’s belly.
“Thank you for finding Ugly, mister,” he said to Gulliver. “And you got him all cleaned up and everything.”
“Got him fixed up too,” said Dowd. “He got all kinds of shots and stuff to protect him.”
The kid frowned. “But I got no way to pay you for—”
“Don’t worry about that, Ellis. I was happy to do it for you. And I kinda like that dog of yours. He’s been real good company for me. I don’t look so weird when I’m walking next to him.”
Ellis laughed. “That’s funny, mister.”
“Okay, kid, that’s great but—” Rigo began.
Patrick cut him off. “Let the kid and Dowd talk.”
Gulliver nodded thanks to Detective Patrick. Then he hopped up on the kid’s bed. “Listen, Ellis, I know these detectives have already asked you. But can you remember anything about what happened to you?”
Ellis Torres’s face turned red, like he was embarrassed. His eyes darted from the detectives to Gulliver and back to the detectives.
“Guys,” Gulliver said, turning to the cops, “can you give Ellis and me a few minutes?”
Rigo didn’t like it. He opened his mouth to say something. But Patrick shook his hea
d. “Sure, Dowd,” Patrick said. “But only a few minutes.”
The detectives left the room.
“Okay, Ellis, they’re +dr ed he saidgone. I know you want to tell me something.”
“They would laugh at me. I don’t like when people laugh at me. You gonna laugh at me?”
Boy, did Gulliver Dowd understand not liking to be laughed at. He raised his right hand. “I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
“My memory is kinda, like, stupid. The last thing I remembered before waking up here is…” The kid stopped himself. “It’s stupid.”
“No, Ellis. Please tell me. Look, I found the place in the warehouse where you and Ugly live. I didn’t tell the cops. I won’t tell them. I saw the pictures. You made a nice place for you guys. I know it’s hard for you to trust people. But please try to trust me.”
“The last thing I remember was, like, this crazy screaming. But not like a person screaming. It was like nothing I ever heard before. I was, like, sleeping, you know? And it woke me up. At least, that’s what I think I remember.”
Gulliver Dowd wasn’t laughing. All he could think about was Mary Shea’s banshees. “Did you climb up the ladder to look out the window? Did you look out the window to see what was screaming?”
Ellis shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. I’m not sure what happened. Buil. His heart
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ahmed Foster had backed his white Cadillac Escalade down the street to keep anyone from seeing what the two of them were up to. And what they were up to was no good. They had already checked the street and nearby buildings for closed-circuit tv cameras. There were none that they could see. Ahmed’s suv was just to block the view of passersby.
Gulliver took the bolt cutters out of the back of the Caddy and handed them to Ahmed. Both he and Ahmed were wearing latex gloves. Strictly speaking, the two of them were committing a crime. More than one. Breaking and entering. Destruction of private property. Trespassing. The list would probably grow. Ahmed squeezed the handles of the bolt cutter together. Snap! The thick U-shaped steel shackle broke cleanly in half. Gulliver twisted the lock. It fell to the ground.+aiother direction
Ahmed swung the gate open. “After you, little man.”
Gulliver went through. Ahmed followed. The first thing they noticed when they got to the back of the warehouse was the smell.
“Man, it stinks bad back in here,” said Ahmed.
Gulliver agreed. “Terrible. Like a giant box of kitty litter or something.”
“Maybe there’s a backed-up sewer around here. I mean, this building looks like nobody’s done any work on it in years.”
Other than the smell, there wasn’t much behind the warehouse. There were some old footprints. There were some drag marks. Some ruts left in the ground. But mostly there was just a slab of cracked concrete. Ahmed went over to the dock that was jutting into the harbor. Checked out the moorings a boat might have tied up to.
“These have gotten some use lately,” Ahmed said. “See here. There’s some slime growin’ on top. But look where the ropes tie around. You can see where the ropes cleaned the slime away down to the metal. Other than that, I can’t tell you anything.”
Gulliver walked the length of the back of the warehouse. There was nothing else to see. He was disappointed. He had hoped there was an answer here. But there was no answer. Only that terrible smell.
“Come on, Ahmed. Let’s get out of here.”
They closed the gate behind them. Gulliver replaced the lock. He taped the shackle together where the bolt cutters had snapped it. He set the lock in place so the tape hardly showed.
Gulliver handed Ahmed some cash when they got back in the suv.
“Thank you, Ahmed.”
“Anytime, little man. You want me to drop you back at your place?”
“No,” he said, then gave Ahmed the address for Dr. Prentice’s clinic.
Mia’s face lit up when Gulliver stepped through the glass door to the waiting room. The room was crowded with pets and their owners. There was a regal Siamese cat in a harness on a woman’s lap. The cat kept sneezing.
“Oh, poor poor Julius,” the woman said, wiping the cat’s nose with a folded tissue.
Julius Sneezer, Gulliver thought. He laughed to himself.
There was a goofy boxer puppy flopping around on the floor. There was a man holding a plastic case with tiny air holes. Gulliver couldn’t tell what was in the case. To his left was a woman full of piercings and tattoos, holding a cage on her lap. In the cage was a large white macaw. The macaw kept crowning the feathers on its head as it looked around the room.
“What’s that guy got in his lap?” Gulliver whispered to Mia as he came to the counter.
“An albino python,” she whispered back.
“It’s like Noah’s ark in here today.”
“Dr. Prentice is an exotic-animal specialist. We get all kinds of animals in here. Monkeys. Even bats.”
“I’m sorry I missed calling you, but—”
“It’s okay,” she[fedkas said. “I shouldn’t have been so rough on you last night. I hardly know you and I—”
“Forget it. I came here to tell you that what you said was a good thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Maybe it was me who shouldn’t have said what I said. Would you like to try for a do-over?”
Mia smiled. It was a very pretty smile. “Sure. How about tonight?”
“Same time?” he asked.
“Perfect. You know, Gulliver, I felt bad about something else,” she said.
“What?”
“I never asked about Ugly’s owner. The kid who got attacked. How is he doing?”
It made Gulliver happy that Mia cared. Maybe there was something they could build together. But he fought hard not to hope. The only thing hope ever did to him was hurt him.
“Oh, the kid’s doing much better. I saw him today with the detectives handling his case.”
“Does he remember anything about what happened?” she asked.
But before Gulliver could answer, Dr. Prentice interrupted.
“Hello, Mr. Dowd.”
“Doctor,” Gulliver said. He didn’t know how much the vet had heard. He didn’t want Mia to get in any trouble over his being there for a visit. “I was just telling Mia about the boy whose dog I brought in the other day.”
“Yes, I heard. How is he?” the vet asked.
“Much better. His memories are a little confused. But not totally gone.” Then Gulliver remembered the insects Prentice had found on Ugly. “What did the Department of Agriculture have to say about those beetles?”
Mia frowned when Gulliver asked that question. Uh-oh, he thought. He better get out of there before Mia did get in trouble.
“Oh, those,” Dr. Prentice said, clearing his throat. “N" aid="F891E">
CHAPTER FIFTEEN+; margin-top: iother direction
Gulliver spent the rest of the afternoon working on a different case. In the wake of Keisha’s murder, he had set up a tip hotline. He had used some of his savings and some of Keisha’s life-insurance money to set up a reward. At first, there were many phone tips. But as the years went on, there were fewer and fewer. Now hardly any came in. A few a year. Mostly from crazies. People who confessed to anything. People who blamed aliens or Elvis’s ghost.
For the first few years, Gulliver shared the tips with the police. Then he stopped. Keisha’s murder was still officially an open case. But even a dead cop’s case is pushed to the bottom of the pile when the trail is cold. The first detectives on the case were now both retired. Gulliver had hoped the detectives who took over would see something the others hadn’t. Fresh eyes can be good. Nothing came of it. It wasn’t that the cops didn’t care. They did. Everybody cared. There was just nothing new.
Gulliver had to confess that he himself wasn’t as tireless in chasing down leads as he had been. At first, there was no lead he wouldn’t follow. No lead he wouldn’t push the cops to follow. Once he got his PI license, his carry permit, his kni
fe and fighting training, there was no place he wouldn’t go to track down a lead or a suspect. It was a good thing his job paid him well. He had spent a lot of time and money traveling all over to talk to people. He had even gone to Alaska to talk to a retired cop who had worked in Keisha’s precinct for a few months. But, like all the other leads, it came to nothing.
That cop had some crazy theory about a secret plan inside the NYPD. A plot to do away with cops who refused to join a secret society. It turned out that the guy had a very bad record. That he was trouble no matter where he went. He had been transferred fifteen times in twenty years. He had been on medical leave many times. And it wasn’t hard to figure out why. He was crazy. When Gulliver talked to other cops who had worked with the guy, they all laughed. Nuts. Paranoid. Schizo. Loony. Bonkers. Cuckoo. Wack-job. Out there, was how they described him.
In the last year Gulliver had lost heart. And he had been so busy with his own cases. He knew Keisha would be okay with that. She’d always wanted him to shed his bitterness. To make a life for himself the way she had. He’d wondered what Keisha would think of Mia. That’s what got him started looking at his old files on Keisha’s murder. And then there was Detective Patrick. It was amazing that of all the detectives in the NYPD, it was Patrick who caught the Ellis Torres case. That happens in life sometimes. Things come together by accident.
So when Gulliver got back to the loft, he took out his old Keisha files. He felt many things. His heart sank at the huge size of the pile. It was nearly as tall as he was. And that wasn’t even counting the things he had stored on his computer. Thousands of tips. Hundreds of interviews. All of it leading nowhere. Then deep sadness as he recalled identifying Keisha’s body. The horror at the sight of what the bullets had done to her. Then happiness as he recalled how much they had loved each other. It was always the two of them against the world. Then swelling pride for what his sister had done with her life.
Valentino Pier (Rapid Reads) Page 4