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Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2

Page 6

by Dan Petrosini


  Chapter 16

  Stewart

  “Some make it happen, some watch it happen, and some say, ‘What happened?’” - Anonymous

  My cell rang. It was her. Sweet.

  “Hey, Robin. What’s shaking, sunshine?”

  “I called for Detective Luca, but he’s out on sick leave.”

  I pumped a fist in the air. “Oh. I wonder what happened to him.”

  “Now nobody is going to be looking for Phil.”

  Here we go again. Sometimes she could be so dramatic. “I’m sure they work in teams. Don’t panic, Robin.”

  “I’m not panicking, Dom! Every day Phil is gone it’s more likely he’ll never come back. I can feel it, that something happened to him, and you don’t seem to care.”

  “I care. He was my best friend.”

  “Well, you’re not doing much to help him.”

  “That’s not fair, Robin. Look, I know it’s not looking good, but you never know. He could be kidnapped or something by some lunatics.”

  “Something bad has happened to him. I had a very bad dream last night.”

  So that was it, a dream unsettled her. I calmed her down and told her I’d contact the police and find out who was taking over the case from Luca.

  My call for Luca was connected to a woman by the name of Mary Ann Vargas. She sounded nice over the phone. I wondered what she looked like.

  “I was looking for Detective Luca.”

  “He’s out on leave. I’m his partner. What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “Good, you see, he was handling a missing person case, and we’re wondering what’s going on with it.”

  “Who is the person in question?”

  “You have more than one?”

  “Name?”

  She was another pile of fun.

  “Gabelli, Phil Gabelli. You know anything about it?”

  “Of course. As I said, I’m Detective Luca’s partner.”

  “But we never heard about you.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  “You know what’s going on?”

  “I have the case file. May I ask why you’re following up rather than Mrs. Gabelli?”

  “Robin said she called but couldn’t get any information.”

  “There’s nothing to report.”

  “Oh. No one’s looking for Phil?”

  “This is an active investigation and we’re pursuing a couple of leads.”

  Leads? What did she mean by that? “Oh, something’s in the mix?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss the case, but you can assure Mrs. Gabelli that we’re continuing to determine the whereabouts of her husband.”

  “So, you think he’s taken off somewhere.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Not exactly, but you said the whereabouts, and that kinda means—”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. You can tell Mrs. Gabelli we’ll be in touch as things develop.”

  Develop? It sounded like they had something. The question was what.

  I thanked her and said goodbye. Then I thought things over for a minute before texting Robin.

  Chapter 17

  Luca

  I woke up in recovery feeling like a sumo wrestler had used my midsection as a trampoline. My mouth was bone dry, and there were a bunch of tubes stuck in me, scaring the hell out of me. Why so many tubes? They didn’t tell me about them. Did something go wrong?

  The worst was the tube up my nose; it was irritating the hell out of me. I was hazy and wanted to rip it out but could barely lift my arm up.

  This was far worse than I expected. It looked to me that the doctors weren’t able to make me a bladder. When they opened me they probably saw that the cancer had spread all over. Damn it, Luca, whatever luck you had just went up in smoke. I was a goner. No sense fighting the grogginess, so I just let it take me away.

  A clearing throat woke me. Dr. Murray came to see me, but he seemed to be alone. I tried to see if anyone was behind him. Nobody. Dr. Lino was nowhere in sight, and my worst fears were about to be confirmed.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. Luca?”

  “Like I’ve been run over.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, but I’m certain you’ll be back to normal quickly.”

  “If you call living with a bag of piss hanging off you normal.”

  Murray just stood there for a second before stammering, “I, I . . .”

  “It’s okay, Doc, I know you couldn’t make a bladder.”

  “No, no, we did.”

  “What? Where’s Dr. Lino?”

  “He was called in on an emergency surgery.”

  “So, he, you, were able to make a new bladder for me?”

  Murray smiled. “Yes, it was difficult but successful.”

  “I, when I didn’t see Dr. Lino I figured . . .”

  “Oh, I see now.”

  He started to laugh and I joined in, but my belly started yapping. Murray gave me a rundown on what they did. He claimed to be confident they removed all the cancer and said it had not spread to the lymph nodes, or anywhere. If I could have gotten up, I would’ve planted a big kiss on him. He left saying he’d be back with Lino as soon as I was moved out of recovery.

  ***

  The following morning, they had me up and walking the halls, even though I was connected to an assortment of bags and lines. It was slow going and painful. I started feeling a little better after breakfast and really turned the corner when they took the catheter out in the late afternoon.

  Vargas showed up right after dinner with a card and a white orchid.

  “How are you feeling, Luc?”

  “Better than I expected. That’s for sure.”

  “That’s wonderful. I was worried about you, partner.” She took a seat in a blue plastic chair.

  “I told you it’d be all right.”

  “I know, but you scared me the other day. You weren’t yourself.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Luca, we ain’t been partners for ages, but we know each other. No?”

  “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

  “So, what do the doctors say?”

  “They’re pretty sure they got it all.” She didn’t need to know about my new bladder.

  “Thank God, thank God. You see, praying works.”

  “You’ll make a believer out of me yet, Vargas.”

  “You’re my pet project, Frank. If I can turn you around, the pearly gates will be wide open for me.”

  “Very funny. Hey, what happened with Tommy Thumbs?”

  “This is a social visit, Frank.”

  “Oh, come on, I’m here only a week, and already I’m outta my mind.”

  “Let’s just call it interesting.”

  “Don’t play with me, Vargas. What’s going on?”

  “Like I said, it’s a social visit, and you need your rest. We’ll talk, maybe tomorrow.”

  Before I could protest, Vargas headed for the door. She pulled it open and turned around.

  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you.” She was smiling ear to ear.

  “What? Spit it out.”

  “Some nice young lady, well, she seemed young, called for you.”

  Could it have been Kayla? “Who was it?”

  “Said her name was Kayla. She was worried about you. Said she was out with you when you took the nosedive.”

  Kayla. I had to admit I’d thought about her a couple of times, but with the medical things moving at asteroid speed and the nature of my problem it didn’t seem like a good time to chat. Now I seemed to be in the clear and wanted, almost needed, to talk with her.

  A nurse came in.

  “How are you doing, Frank?”

  “Pretty good. Do you know where my phone is?”

  “Uh, no. I’ll chec
k with the desk as soon as we get done here.”

  “What are you going to do? Take blood again?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve got to relieve yourself.”

  “I don’t feel like I have to go.”

  “I know. That’s because you no longer have the nerve system that signals it’s time to go.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

  The nurse helped me get up and moved the IV pole along with me to the bathroom. I turned my back to her at the bowl, and she said, “You’ll have to sit, Frank.”

  I shook my head.

  She backed out and said, “Try pushing.”

  I didn’t feel like going, and nothing was coming out, even though I was pushing.

  “I can’t go. Nothing’s coming out.”

  “It helps to raise your knees. Try getting on your tippy toes. Also rub or kinda tickle your abdomen. But be careful with the wound.”

  I did as she said and after about five minutes of counting the yellow tiles on the wall, a trickle of pee finally dribbled out.

  “Good, Frank. Now, when you’re done, try to see if you can feel the difference in your abdomen. I know everything is sore down there, but a lot of patients learn to detect a bit of pressure when they really have to go. It’ll be something to concentrate on.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  She wanted me to walk the halls before getting back in bed. I had no choice; my call would have to wait.

  We got back in after circling the floor two times. It was tiring. The nurse dug out my phone from the room’s locker, and of course it needed to be charged, and I didn’t have a charger. The nurse said she’d get one for me and left.

  She came back with a cord dangling from her hand and a smile beaming from her face.

  “Here you go.”

  I took the charger and tossed it on the nightstand.

  “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to make a call.”

  “Changed my mind.” Fact was, I realized I didn’t have Kayla’s number. I tried to recall her last name but was so exhausted I nodded out.

  Chapter 18

  Stewart

  “Don’t wait. The time will never be just right.” - Napoleon Hill

  What does she want? Phil’s not coming back, so move on already. I couldn’t understand why Robin was clinging to her old life. That was history. What, was she bullshitting when she’d say you gotta move on?

  I was anxious. Could it be I was pressing things a little too fast? They were married ten years. I guess that’s a long time. But Philly wasn’t some devoted husband. Maybe she was just putting on a show for everybody, acting the way most people do. What you’re expected to do. All the mourning bullshit as the weeks and months fly by. Fools, that’s what they are. Who wants to waste years of your life holed up, playing poor me?

  The head doctors all say you’ve got to give it time. Time heals all wounds, blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile, as the clock is ticking, your life is slipping away. That’s plain stupid. If you’re eventually gonna recover, why not force the rebound sooner?

  Mental toughness. Take the emotion out. That’s what it takes. Know what the plan is and shut the rest of the shit down.

  I wish I would’ve realized it years ago. But looking back doesn’t do anything for anybody. Robin’s got to keep focused on today and maybe tomorrow. She can’t be wasting anymore of her time or mine.

  I had to find a way to wake her up. In need of reinforcement, I got up to grab the new inspirational quote book I bought, then I remembered Robin’s birthday was coming up.

  I’d have to do something nice for her. Something different. Go to a fresh place with no memories of Phil. Maybe the new place on the water in Marco. I can’t remember if she’d been there. Food’s a hair better than okay, but the setting is pretty sweet. A couple of cocktails with a sunset and you’d be as relaxed as liquid. I gotta ask her if she’d been there without tipping her off.

  I sat down on the lanai and opened to a random page. Unreal, one of my favorite quotes:

  “All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.”

  This guy T. E. Lawrence was a genius.

  ***

  What the fuck? I couldn’t believe my ears that some woman detective had come to the office asking about me. It must’ve been Luca’s partner, that Detective Vargas. Now I gotta listen to Greely’s bullshit? Maybe I should just quit, tell them to fuck off.

  Nobody but Tony said anything, but I could tell the way everybody looked at me they knew the police had come. I wanted to punch that bitch Judy in the face when she said Mr. Greely wanted to see me. Her voice was dripping with contempt, like I was some street thug. She never liked me, the old bag.

  Who do these cops think they are? Shouldn’t they have told me they were coming? Don’t they give a damn if they screw with somebody’s job? I didn’t give two dumps for the job, but when I go, I’m going out on my terms.

  What could Greely say? He had nothing to talk about. What, I’m late every now and then. I make a couple of mistakes here and there. The cops are wasting their time, and you know what? That’s a good thing as far as I’m concerned. Let them chase their tails with my job. They won’t find anything there.

  Chapter 19

  Luca

  An August sun shower broke out and I jogged, nah floated, into the station. I felt as happy to be here as I was the first day out of the academy. I couldn’t believe my eyes; everyone was standing and clapping. These people and most everyone I’d run into down here were always off the hook nice. But getting an ovation for being in the hospital?

  I shook a few hands and thanked everyone as I made it to my little piece of real estate. It was uncomfortable for me, but I was glad to be back in my office after almost three months away.

  Vargas was behind her desk, looking as good as she ever did. She had a smile as wide as the Gulf of Mexico.

  “Good to have you back, Frank.”

  “But not good enough for a standing O like everyone else?”

  She threw a ball of paper at me.

  “They do this every time someone gets sick around here?”

  “You didn’t just get sick, bozo, you had cancer, and you’ve beat it.”

  I still hated hearing the C word. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Don’t be getting gloomy on me, Luca. My horoscope says it’s going to be a surprisingly upbeat day.”

  I waved her off and asked, “Can you update me on the cases?”

  Vargas filled me in on four drug cases, two armed robberies, and an assault, before getting to the Gabelli case. It was virtually the only case I had been thinking about while recovering.

  I asked, “What did you ever find out about the bookie, Tommy Thumbs?”

  She grabbed a file and opened it.

  “He was tight-lipped, but no doubt that Gabelli was in deep to him.”

  “How deep?”

  She grimaced. “Wouldn’t say exactly, but said it was a lot and that he was concerned but not worried about the debt.”

  “Concerned but not worried? Gabelli get behind the eight ball regularly?”

  Vargas nodded. “Tommy said there was a handful of times that Gabelli had an unlucky streak.”

  “We got time frames?”

  “Said he didn’t keep records, but said it was over the last two years or so. Said he was sorry to lose such a good customer.”

  “What was your sense of him?”

  “He’s creepy. I didn’t like the fact he knew Gabelli was missing. When I pressed him, he said Gabelli owed him money and went looking to collect.”

  “Makes sense. Can’t collect from a dead man.”

  “So why you so hot on what Tommy Thumbs had to say?”

  “Gives me a better handle
on what’s going on. If Gabelli was into Thumbs for big wood, then chances are he was in over his head with another bookie or two. Plus, these guys play hardball to collect, and sometimes things just get out of hand and somebody ends up dead.”

  “It could show Gabelli was desperate if he owed to a couple—”

  “Bingo, Vargas, you’re learning.”

  “And desperate men do desperate things.”

  She threw one of my favorite phrases back at me. I thought it sounded pretty damn good.

  “What now? How do you want to follow this?”

  I said, “Why don’t you go see Stewart? Ask him again about why he never said anything about his buddy Phil gambling. He may be hiding something, and I’ll go see the missus and also swing by Gabelli’s office.”

  ***

  The Gabelli house had the new coastal contemporary look. It was off-white with dark Bahama shutters and had modern-looking garage doors with opaque windows. Everything had straight lines and a simple elegance to it. When I first started seeing the new style it felt too modern, but I came around quickly, and this one was real nice. I liked the way the pavers were laid in a herringbone pattern. I figured the home was worth a minimum of two and a half to three million as I rang the bell.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Robin’s gleaming smile and warm handshake threw me off. She was dressed in a red silky dress. Did she wear that just for my visit? The dress hugged her, outlining a body worthy of any men’s magazine. Not a straight line anywhere, I thought, as Robin showed me into a two-storied family room.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Detective?”

  I took a seat in a light blue armchair. “I’m okay, but thanks anyway.”

  She smoothed the dress where it hit her ass and sat in a swivel club chair with black piping.

  “I so glad you’re feeling better, Frank.”

  She went from detective to Frank in a nanosecond.

  “Thank you. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions.”

  “Sure. Fire away.”

  “I understand that Mr. Stewart and you had an affair. What can you tell me about that?”

 

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