Faye Kellerman

by Street Dreams

  “Don’t know. Haven’t thought about it.”

  Decker said, “Do Industry PD, the precinct on Twenty-third and Preston.”

  “Okay. You got a phone number? I’ll call you when it’s cleared.”

  “Not necessary,” Decker said. “Just do your job and we’ll all be happy.”

  “Tell me how the car came to your attention?” I asked him.

  “Not much to tell, sweetheart. Guy comes in here six-thirty in the morning and tells me he needs to dump a hot mark. All those bullet holes, I’m figuring it was a messy holdup or gang warfare. Either way, I don’t want no part of that shit. I tell him where to go for scrap. That’s it.”

  “Who’s the guy?” I asked.

  “Don’t know him.”

  “You don’t know him?” I tossed him a look. “You gave out the address of a chop shop to a guy you don’t know?”

  “He’s the stepbrother of a greaser that used to work for me.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s the greaser’s name?”

  He brushed his tongue over his teeth. “We’re back up to a hundred.”

  “Fine,” I said. “What’s his name … the greaser?”

  “Germando El Paso.”

  My father and I exchanged glances. Decker said, “What’d this guy look like?”

  “I dunno. Maybe around five-ten.”

  “Hair color, eye color?”

  “I don’t pay attention to that kinda crap.”

  “Think, Angus,” I told him. “It’s important.”

  “Real short hair … stubble. Look, I got work to do, ’specially if you want me to do what you’re asking me to do. So get outta here and let me do it.”

  “Where’s the scrap yard?” I asked.

  Angus narrowed his eyes. “You don’t got no warrant. I ain’t got nothin’ else to say to you.” He started to turn his back.

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  He stopped, pivoted around, and stared at me.

  “Thank you very much,” I said. “I’ll get you the money. I promise.”

  His eyes took in my face. He nodded.

  “One more thing?”

  He waited.

  “You’re sure you don’t know this guy’s name? You can understand why I’d want to know that.”

  He was silent.

  I said, “Angus, how about if I say some names. You don’t even have to tell me yes or no. I’ll just look at your face. And I’ll throw in an extra twenty-five.”

  He didn’t move. I took it as an indication for me to continue. I rattled off a few fillers before I got to the meat. “Pepe Renaldes?”

  Nothing.

  “Juice Fedek?”

  Angus was good, but the tic of the eye was involuntary.

  “Juice Fedek is Germando El Paso’s stepbrother?” When Angus didn’t answer, I turned to my father. “Hence the mixed gang.”

  “Are you leavin’ or what?” Angus stepped out into the working area and looked across the street at my father’s Porsche. “Is that your wheels?”

  Decker said, “You touch it, you’re dead.”

  “Need any parts? I got an ’81 nine-one-one engine with twenty thousand original miles.”

  “As tempting as it is, I think I’ll pass.”

  I said, “When you locate the car, tell the Industry PD to call Hollywood substation. Tell them you heard that the Nova was used in an officer-involved shooting.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Angus shook his head and said, “You know, this talk ain’t doing wonders for either of our images.”

  “C’mon,” my father told me. When we were across the street, he put his arm around me. “Masterful.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  He took in my eyes. “I don’t know if you had the best this morning.”

  “Then it’s good that I’ve seen him work under less emotional conditions.”

  “Very good for him.”

  The Loo unlocked the door. Renaldes was just where we’d left him. I pushed forward the driver’s seat and squeezed into my space. I leaned over and tucked the remaining halves of the three torn twenty-dollar bills into his pocket. But I still had severe reservations. This man, however cowed he was at this moment, was potentially a willing participant in a gang rape. I kept that in the back of my mind. I patted his shoulder. “You did good, Pepe.”

  He smiled. “You fin’ him?”

  “The less you know, the better,” I told him. Evasiveness helped keep his anxiety level up. I weighed my words carefully. “You know, if we need you again for something else, you’d better come through.”

  Dad translated my words into Spanish.

  He squirmed. “Que quiere?”

  “Nothing right now,” I told him. “But you never know.”

  “Well stated,” the Loo complimented. He started the engine and we were off. I made Decker stop at a Burger King and bought Pepe a Shaq pack. I placed the bag on the floor of the car. He eyed it ravenously.

  “I no can eat with the faja.”

  “‘Faja’ is the belt,” Dad told me.

  I said, “You’ll eat when you get home. In the meantime, you can smell it.”

  To me, the odor was greasy and nauseating. It was especially sickening because it took us over an hour to make it back to Pepe’s apartment. Traffic was in full swing: bumper to bumper, chrome reflecting in the sunlight, exhaust clogging up the air, and it wasn’t even afternoon rush hour yet. Finally, by one-thirty in the afternoon, we were back where we started, Renaldes delivered in one piece, a chastened man. I undid the wrist restraints and he picked up the bag of food. He took out some French fries and stuffed them into his mouth before we got to the door of his apartment. As soon as my father inserted Renaldes’s key in the lock, the dog went nuts. When he opened the door, I could smell feces and urine. Someone had shown displeasure in a very primal way.

  Pepe didn’t seem to notice. He was already unwrapping his hamburger. Before he made his escape, I grabbed his arm and glowered at him. “You say anything about this visit, I tell Angus. And don’t even think about leaving town. I got eyes in the back of my head. Comprende?”

  He regarded my face, then looked at my hand around his arm. Slowly, I let it go.

  “Pistola?” Renaldes said. “Este es un mundo muy peligroso.”

  That much I could understand. I said, “If it’s clean, you’ll get it back.” I slapped his cheek. “Stay out of trouble.”

  We walked back to Dad’s Porsche. It felt wonderful to sit in a normal seat. I didn’t realize how raw and tender my back muscles had become by my contortions in the backseat. I gave my legs a long stretch.

  I said, “Think Angus is reliable?”

  “No,” Dad answered. “But we know where to find him if he isn’t. Where’s your car?”

  “At home.”

  Decker got back on the freeway. Within minutes, my eyelids closed. By the time we arrived at my apartment, I had napped over forty minutes. I woke up, tired and groggy.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” Decker told me.

  “You don’t have to—”

  But he was already out of the car. He opened my door, and I leaned on him as we climbed the stairs to my unit. Behind the wall, I could hear my phone ringing. I managed to unlock my door and grab the receiver before the caller hung up. Dad followed me inside.

  “Where’ve you been?” the voice asked me.

  Shit! It was Lieutenant Stone. I had forgotten to call in at noon. It was almost three.

  “Sleeping.” It was the truth. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant.”

  “Stone?” my dad mouthed.

  I nodded.

  “Shit,” he mouthed back. “Sorry.”

  I waved him off. “What’s up, sir? Any new gunshot-wound victims show up in any hospital since I left the station house?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “Decker, I just got the strangest call. Someone from Industry PD told me about a shot-up Nova abo
ut to be junked. They had heard from an anonymous tip that it was used in a cop pop.”

  “Oh my God!” I didn’t have to pretend to be surprised. I was surprised. Angus had worked even quicker than promised. I made a mental note to fire off the money in today’s mail. “Is it true?”

  “Brill’s going to Industry to check it out.” A long pause. “How do you think word got around that fast?”

  I smiled. “Obviously, someone bragged.”

  “And where were you all this time?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, I was sleeping alone, but I wasn’t alone in the house. My father’s been with me the entire time. He took the day off because he knew I was rattled. He’s here now. Want to talk to him?” I called him to the phone in a loud voice, speaking with enough volume so that Stone could hear over the line. I told Dad that Industry PD had a fix on the car. He clapped his hands, gave me a thumbs-up sign.

  He took the phone but held it open so I could hear Stone’s responses. Dad said, “You’ve got a location for the vehicle?”

  “A possible location,” Stone answered. “You’ve been with her the entire time?”

  “Yes, I have been with her the entire time.”

  A long pause. “Doing what?”

  “Mostly reading while she slept.” He glanced at one of my magazines—a subscription to Earth and Heaven that I acquired with odd-lot miles from Delta. He read from the cover article. “Did you know that the universe is expanding at roughly twice the rate than previously thought, according to the latest redshift data?”

  “Very interesting, Pete,” Stone said. “Don’t you think the Nova just popping up like this is a big coincidence?”

  Decker’s smile was slow and wide. “The world runs on coincidences, Mack. So does our business. Would you like to talk to Officer Decker again?”

  “No need. Just tell her that if this tip pans out, I’ll need her for vehicle identification. Then we’ll have to clear her gun with a shooting team. Once we get the okay from them, she can report back for active duty. That’ll probably come through day after tomorrow, but when I say to call in at noon, I mean call in at noon.”

  “Why are you castigating me? I’m not my daughter’s keeper.”

  “I’m not castigating you, Pete; I’m asking you to pass along the message with feeling.”

  “Got it.” Decker winked at me. “Thanks for everything, Mack. I’ll remember this.”

  “Yeah.” A weary voice. “Fine. Bye.”

  Dad hung up the line, then depressed the flash button. “Someone’s beeping in.” He handed me the phone.

  “You tell me this morning you call by nine. That was six hours ago. I call you a dozen times. Where have you been?”

  “I’m just fine, Koby. Thanks for asking.”

  A pause. He said, “How are you?”

  “Tired and nauseated. I’ve been out, but if anyone asks you, I’ve been home sleeping.”

  Another pause. “Cynthia, what is going on?”

  “Nothing.” I softened my voice. “Really. I’m all right. How are you?”

  “I’m all right, now I know that you’re all right. I don’t know where you are. I was crazy with worry.”

  So now you know what it’s like to wait and wonder. Of course, I didn’t say that. The poor man had been shot at, his car totaled and impounded. He was tired and grumpy and worried and without a set of wheels. It was not the time to make points. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Honestly, I was preoccupied and forgot.”

  “You forgot?”

  “Koby, my father’s here. He’s about to leave. Could you hold for a minute so I can say good-bye to him?”

  Another exasperated sigh, but he said he’d hold. I put the receiver down and got up. I smiled at my father. “What can I say, Decker? Thanks a heap.”

  “Anytime.”

  Tears suddenly fell from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. I hugged my father with profound gratitude that went way beyond this incident. “I love you.”

  He hugged me back with equal enthusiasm. “I love you, too, Princess.”

  I finally broke away. Or maybe he broke away. He said, “I’ll let myself out.”

  “No, I’ll walk you to the door.” I whispered, “He can wait.”

  Dad’s smile was immediate and conspiratorial. As soon as I closed the door and locked it, I plopped down on the couch, phone in hand. “I’m back. Where are you now?”

  “At work.”

  “You found a car?”

  “Marnie picked me up.”

  “Marnie?”

  “Yes, Marnie. When can we see each other?”

  “I guess soon, or Marnie will move in on my territory.”

  “Stop it, Cynthia! I’m in no mood. She’s engaged to a very nice doctor and it is you who have the key to my house.”

  I didn’t answer right away, waiting for him to apologize for snapping at me. He didn’t. So I said, “I’m sorry. The humor is defensive. I’m still shaken. I’m sure you are as well.”

  A loud sigh. “I’m sorry, too. I just want to hear your voice, that’s all.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  “Baruch Hashem!” There was a long silence over the phone. “I ache for you. Please. When can we see each other?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Can you come pick me up after work?”

  “Of course, Koby. What time?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I’ll be there unless I have to do vehicle identification.” I apprised him of the situation.

  “That’s incredible!” His voice turned bright. “That is so lucky.”

  “Yes, it is very lucky,” I told him.

  I smiled to myself.

  Sometimes you make your own luck.

  38

  The William Tell Overture was never my favorite piece to begin with. It was especially obnoxious as a jingle coming from my cell phone. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and keep sleeping, but because my current work situation was tenuous, I reconsidered. I reached down to the floor, rooted through my handbag, and came up with the infernal machine.

  Koby shifted onto his stomach, then pulled the covers over his head. “Ignore it.”

  I depressed the call button. “Hello?”

  “It’s Brill.”

  I sat up, my heart reminding me I was alive. “What’s going on?”

  “Just giving you a heads-up and it’s all good. Shooting team is just about done. You’re fine.”

  Suddenly, I could breathe easily. “Oh my God, that’s great! Did Forensics pull anything from the Nova?”

  “Lots of prints. We’ll run through the electronic file by midafternoon.”

  “Thanks, Justice. That’s a real load off.”

  “That’s why I called.”

  Koby yanked the covers off and bolted up. My eyes followed his body—upright as well as erect—as he walked to the bathroom.

  “Someone will officially call you,” Justice told me. “You want to know where the shots landed?”

  “Where?”

  “All in the hood of the car, nothing through the windshield. Your aim was good. Except you fired six and the team only recovered four.”

  “I must have shot a couple of wild ones,” I lied.

  “Yeah, so long as they didn’t land in the wrong place. So far, so good.”

  “Thanks again, Justice. Call me as soon as the prints go through, even if there isn’t a hit.”

  A pause. “Maybe we should have that cup of coffee, Decker.”

  “Whenever you’re ready to talk about the Sarah Sanders rape case—with Russ MacGregor’s permission, of course—I’m up for it.”

  “Yeah, that too. You have the day off. How about a drink when I get off—around six. I should know something about the car’s prints by then.”

  “Can I get back to you? I’ve got to arrange my schedule with my boyfriend. He’s still half-asleep right now.”

  “Sure, Decker. Call me back.”<
br />
  “Thanks, Justice. Bye.”

  Koby slithered back into bed. “What schedule are we arranging?”

  “Detective Brill wants to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “Prints in the Nova. He’s running them through this afternoon. He suggested talking over drinks when he gets off from work.”

  “He asked you out?”

  “He’s married, Koby.”

  “A ring on the finger is not a ring on the gonads.”

  “And that’s why I mentioned my boyfriend. He’s not stupid.”

  “Are you going?” He sulked.

  “I’ll call and find out what popped up on National Register. If it’s legit, yes, I’m going. I’ve been in this position before. I know these guys and I know how to steer it to business. Our dating makes it that much easier. Plus, Brill’s a superior. I need a jump start on the Sarah Sanders rape case, and if he can help me, great.”

  “There are sexual-harassment laws in this country, you know.”

  “He’s not harassing me, he’s throwing out feelers. Don’t worry.”

  But his face held resentment. He waited a moment; then his long fingers skittered over my nipples.

  “Let me brush my teeth,” I told him. As soon as I returned to bed, he turned to his side and propped himself up onto an elbow. He took in my nakedness.

  “You are so gorgeous.”

  I stroked his cheek. “So are you. Please don’t doubt me.”

  He brought my hand to his erection. “I don’t doubt you, but I know men.”

  My cell went off again.

  “Let it ring,” Koby snapped.

  “It might be important.”

  Koby plopped down onto his back, smoldering eyes on the ceiling, and said nothing. This time, it was Rina.

  “I just wanted to know when you’re going to pick up the old Volvo.”

  “Oh … hold on.” I turned to my bedmate. “When do you want to pick up the Volvo?”

  He exhaled loudly. “What time is it?”

  “Around nine.”

  “I have to be in at three. Twelve, twelve-thirty?”

  “How about twelve-thirty?” I asked Rina.

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

  I hung up.

  “Turn it off,” Koby said. “If it goes again, I will break it.”

  I turned it off.