Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2

by Dan Petrosini

  “Are you sure, Frank?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got to get it off your chest.”

  “I know. Look, we’ll talk about it another time. Okay?”

  “Your call. Frank, I’m not the one getting nightmares.”

  ***

  I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair shaking my head. Not only was I physically exhausted, but I was tired of hitting brick walls. The PT Cruiser lead turned out to be nothing more than two do-gooders camping out at the beach to protect sea turtle nests. I’m telling you, I got nothing against turtles, and I think the effort to protect their nests is a good one. In fact, I think baby turtles are cute. However, we seem to be going a little too far interfering to be sure they make it into the gulf before some bird grabs them as dinner. What about the birds? Don’t they have to eat?

  Maybe this case just isn’t gonna be resolved. Maybe twenty years from today a bored Collier County detective will eat up his day by poring over this cold case. It was seeming likely, and it pissed me off. A break seemed in order.

  Stepping away seemed to work for me. Not all the time, but sometimes, things hit you when you’re not knee-deep in a case. Time for this detective to dust off an old case.

  I got up and dragged a box of files over, running my hand over the archives. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. I pulled one out and started reading.

  Halfway through the papers documenting the investigation into the murder of a Boris Laskin, an intern knocked on the door and handed me a report.

  It was the DMV license plate report I’d requested on the Cube. I plopped it into the in-basket and got back to the Laskin case. A reference in the case to a stolen car made me stop and I grabbed the DMV report.

  Two pages of plate numbers, and who they were registered to, surprised me. That many people wanted a Cube? And in white? Maybe they limited the color choices. This would require a ton of follow up. Maybe we could get the uniforms to run them down. I flipped the first page over and my heart began to race.

  Chapter 42

  Stewart

  “Risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.” - Leo Buscaglia

  I saw him from the kitchen window; it was that damn detective again. Heading down the stairs, I pulled my inhaler out, took a hit, and opened the door.

  “Oh, hello, Detective Luca. What I can do for you?”

  “I’ve got a couple of questions for you. May I come in?”

  Hell no, you can’t come in. “Sure.”

  He sat in the same chair as the first time he came, but this time I wasn’t offering him anything. It doesn’t pay to be nice to these guys.

  “Do you own a white, 2010 Nissan Cube?”

  “Nope.”

  The detective drew a document out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Really? Well here’s a copy of the registration.”

  “I used to own one, but I sold it.”

  “Now’s not the time to be playing games, Mr. Stewart.”

  Screw you, Luca, you said do I ‘own’ one. “Perhaps you should be clearer when questioning.”

  The detective wasn’t happy. He stared at me for a bit too long, then he said, “You go down to Clam Pass often?”

  “I like the beach there, but I don’t go as much as I would like. Besides, I think Vanderbilt’s nicer.”

  “You mean at night?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective.”

  The bastard dug into his pocket again. What was he, a magician?

  “Here’s a photo of you in your Cube driving into Clam Pass in the middle of the night on May first.”

  I looked at the gray, grainy picture and said, “Is that against the law?”

  “No, but it lines up nicely with the day that your best friend went missing.”

  I smiled. “Oh, I get it, so now you think I must’ve taken Phil’s body there and dumped my best bud in the water.”

  “What were you doing there that night?”

  “It wasn’t me. I lent my car to a neighbor.”

  Luca threw his head back and snickered. The smug son of a gun said, “And how is it you recall that?”

  “It’s easy, Detective Luca, it’s the night my best friend in the whole world disappeared. I have a crystal-clear recollection of that night.”

  “I see. And who is the neighbor you say you lent the car to?”

  “I didn’t just say, I did let him use my car. Lenny Nership, he lives just across the street. You can go and ask him.”

  “Believe me, I will.”

  Man, I was really starting to hate this guy. “Be my guest.”

  “What’s his address?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not the one directly across from me but the one to the left. He’s the lower unit.”

  “Why’d you sell the car?”

  “What, selling a car’s a crime these days?”

  “Did you trade it in or sell it privately?”

  “Traded it.”

  “Where?”

  “You can save yourself a lot of time by just going to see Lenny.”

  “Where was it traded in?”

  This Luca was anal and getting on my nerves real fast. I was thinking of giving him a Lexus dealer or something to jerk him around, but said, “Germain Honda, down on Davis.”

  The detective made a note. He looked like he was about to ask another question, but he stood, jammed the notebook in his pocket, and said, “That’ll be all for now.”

  I watched him through the window. Sure enough, he made a beeline to Lenny’s place. I knew Lenny wasn’t home and smiled at the thought that Luca would have to make another trip. The next time he comes around I’m not going to answer the door. What did being so available get me anyway?

  ***

  Early the next morning, Lenny texted me and said that Luca had just left. Said the detective wanted to know if he borrowed my Cube and that he told him yes. When Luca asked him why, he said he had a date and that his car was a junker. And that was the end of that.

  I hoped Luca would leave me alone now.

  Chapter 43

  Luca

  Vargas took one look at me and said, “What happened?”

  I shook my head. “I really thought we’d tie Stewart to Clam Pass. But it seems he lent his car to a neighbor.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, the neighbor had a date and his car’s a junker, so he used Stewart’s Cube.”

  “Date part going to Clam Pass at night makes sense.”

  “I know, the guy was a little off, though.”

  “You think he was lying?”

  “No, no. I mean he was just kinda weird, I don’t know, like a touch of autism or something.”

  “What? Now you can diagnosis autism?”

  “No, I don’t know what else to call it. He was the kinda guy who’d have his car covered in stickers. You know what I mean?”

  Vargas shook her head. “You know, Frank, anybody else would think you’re crazy.”

  “Me? You’re the one who believes in stuff like horoscopes.”

  “Don’t get so defensive, Frank. I was trying to say that I did understand what you meant by the sticker reference.”

  “You did?”

  “You’re wound too tight, partner. You still not sleeping?”

  I nodded.

  “I think I can help if you just open up a little.”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me about the dreams.”

  Vargas closed the door and I opened up. I told her about the recurring nightmares featuring the hanging Barrow kid and the new twist about me dying.

  “They sound terrifying. Tell me about the Barrow case.”

  I hung my head. “It’s embarrassing, Mary Ann. You’re not going to like it, but trust me, I learned from it.”

  “Frank, there’s no judging here. I’m your partner and friend.”

  “It was the first
homicide case that I had real input on. It was sort of a high-profile case, as the victim was the niece of a county official. I worked the case with an old-timer, Bob Stone, who was a year away from retiring. I thought it’d be a real learning experience, working with a veteran, but it was almost the complete opposite. This poor girl was strangled with a rope and found in the woods of a park less than a mile from her home. Right away the focus went on the ex-boyfriend, a kid named Dominick Barrow. They’d broken up just two weeks before she was found dead. The girl had ended the year-long relationship, crushing Barrow.”

  I took a sip of water and continued.

  “Given the relationship, I knew the kid was a primary suspect, but Barrow had no record and we had no forensic evidence. We brought the kid in and got nothing other than an admission he was distraught over the relationship. But we did catch him in a lie. He said he’d been nowhere near the park on the day she went missing, but CCTV footage had him walking out of the park. He couldn’t explain it and never changed his story. That bothered me, but when I pushed Stone to broaden the search for other suspects it went nowhere. A search of Barrow’s house turned up a rope that the medical examiner said could be the murder weapon. The problem for me was there wasn’t any forensic evidence to tie it to the body. Stone was adamant, though, said the kid could’ve cut off the part he used or had bought two ropes.”

  “Oh boy, sounds flimsy.”

  “It was, but the brass was pushing for closure, claiming pressure from the Freeholders, that’s the name of the town, Freehold, and when a kid came out of nowhere to say that Barrow had recently strangled a stray cat, it was game over for Barrow.”

  “What happened?”

  “I knew we didn’t have enough. I felt it was less than circumstantial. Even if the kid did strangle a cat, it’s sickening and cruel, but killing another human being is a long leap. Stone wanted to arrest the kid, but I said it was too early and that we needed more. Next thing I know, Stone and the captain, this bastard named Kilihan, they corner me, asking me if I’m a team player or not. What’s to lose by arresting him? Maybe he confesses, they say. So, I go against my better judgment and agree to sign off on it.” I shook my head and said, “Well, we arrest this poor kid, and the kid hangs himself the first night in custody.”

  “Oh Jesus.”

  “I know, it gets worse. Of course, the parents blamed us for the death of their kid, who they said was innocent, and less than three months later someone confesses to the murder.”

  “That’s a tough one, partner.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s completely understandable that you are overwhelmed by guilt, but you’ve got to put it into context. It wasn’t your decision alone.”

  “Yeah, but I could’ve prevented it.”

  “Remember you were a rookie, Frank. You didn’t have any pull.”

  “I could’ve went to the press.”

  Vargas shook her head. “You wouldn’t have done that. You couldn’t put your neck that far out. That would’ve been the end of your career.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybes. You had a role, a minor one, Frank, but if you didn’t go along with it, do you honestly believe they wouldn’t have brought the kid in? Cut yourself a break. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to remember the kid didn’t help himself with the misleading alibi.”

  I shrugged. She had a point, but I had chewed this over and over and over. I said, “But don’t you think it was terrible to go along?”

  “Let me ask you a question. If nobody confessed to the strangulation, would you feel better about it?”

  “Of course.”

  “But that wouldn’t mean this Barrow kid did it, right?”

  “But we would’ve kept investigating.”

  “Do you really believe that? If the kid was getting framed he wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “Something might have come up.”

  “You can continue to beat yourself up over it, but that isn’t going to change anything. Accept it, you made a mistake, but the reality is, even if you would’ve tried to buck the pressure, the kid was going to be arrested. No doubt in my mind, and if you’re honest with yourself you’d see it as well. It’s time to move on, Frank. This was over ten years ago.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “You’ve been through a tremendous amount of stress, Frank. It’s completely normal to experience unsettling dreams, but you can help yourself by letting go of this unfortunate case. Promise me you’ll try.”

  I nodded.

  Mary Ann said, “Now the vision of your cancer coming back is typical. It’s a natural fear, and, though you have a clean bill of health, is completely normal. You had a brush with death, and you would have experienced these visions even without the lingering guilt over the Barrow case. But they wouldn’t have been so severe. Somewhere in your mind, you think you should be punished for the Barrow case and that’s why you got cancer. Do you understand that, Frank?”

  I had to think that through. “It makes sense. I didn’t connect the two.”

  “The cancer you can’t control, but the guilt you can. Does that help?”

  Something clicked, not a mountain mover, but I understood the logic. “More than you’d think. Thanks, Mary Ann. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, anytime. Look, I hate to run, but I got to get to court.”

  ***

  Mary Ann was something. What she said made complete sense; she nailed it. There was no doubt I was going try my hardest to let the Barrow case go. At a minimum, I owed it to myself and to her. She deserved it. I wonder why she never got married. Maybe being a cop pushed away a lot of suitors. It was a shame. Vargas was a sweet, understanding woman, and she was a pretty good looker as well. She deserved someone who could appreciate her, but there were a lot of whackos out there.

  Speaking of whack jobs got me back to Stewart. What an enigma. I thought about my visit with him, which kept bothering me. Even though the car thing panned out, there was no doubt Stewart didn’t like seeing me at his door. To be fair, all people, even the most honest Abes, are nervous around cops. But Stewart? I thought I could smell fear coming off him.

  He wasn’t as neatly dressed as usual, and his place was messy. But I’d come unannounced. Maybe he was like everybody and straightened up only when people were coming around. But the way he had held back information smelled like he was protecting somebody. The likeliest prospect was Robin, but I wasn’t seeing her as a killer any longer.

  I felt kinda pissed at myself that I’d pushed the theory that she and Phil planned this to collect the insurance money. That theory imploded when Gabelli’s swollen body was pulled out of Clam Pass. The conspiracy part went up in smoke, but that didn’t mean she had nothing to do with the death of her husband. Her bank account was sitting on three million dollars of motivation. Plus, she had a sack full of marital problems.

  Chapter 44

  Luca

  Sometimes you gotta go after things like crazy, and sometimes they just fall in your lap. I finished the call and hung up the phone.

  “You’re not gonna believe this, Vargas, but that was Goren.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy who owned that construction firm, Simmons Construction, that Gabelli worked for.”

  “Oh yeah, he was a creep. He’d nearly drooled when I went to see him.”

  “Oh, so I’ve got something in common with him then?”

  Vargas smiled, and I thought there was a hint of a blush in her cheeks.

  “Anyway, he said they uncovered what he said looked like fraud on a contract that Gabelli was responsible for.”

  Vargas leaned forward. “They think he was stealing?”

  “Looks like that. Goren said Gabelli signed off on a wire for a project they were building in Barbados to a recipient whose name was close enough to pass. They followed the money, and as soon as the wire hit, it was bounced to another bank in Sain
t Martin before going to a bank in the Caymans, where it disappeared.”

  “How much we talking?”

  “Six hundred K.”

  “Six hundred thousand is a lot of money. How did it take so long to surface?”

  “He said it was a long-term, multi-building project that’d been going on for a couple of years, and when it was over a contractor said there was a balance due.”

  “Now what?”

  “They’re doing an audit, but this could be the crack in the egg.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Gabelli had good reason to hightail it, especially if they uncover anything else.”

  Vargas nodded. “Or he was stealing to cover his gambling debts.”

  “I don’t know, could be he covered his losses knowing this would surface and took off before it did.”

  “Plausible.”

  I had to agree. “Yeah, definitely in the mix, but I need more info before moving off him taking the dough and splitting, maybe even with another one of his playmates.”

  “You think he was working the fraud with someone else, and when it came time for them to split the money Gabelli said no?”

  I nodded. “Or he gambled the money away. Didn’t have it, and he finally got whacked.”

  My cell buzzed. It was Kayla. I headed outside and answered, “Hello.”

  “Frank, hi, it’s Kayla.”

  “Hey, how you doing?”

  “I’m doing good, but how are you feeling?”

  “A hundred and fifty percent. Everything’s back to normal.”

  “That’s great. What happened?”

  “I had to have some surgery, had a couple of small tumors in my bladder, of all places.”

  “Oh my God. That must have been scary for you.”

  “Let’s say I didn’t need the drama, especially in the middle of my first date with you-know-who.”

  “I called to check on you, you know.”

  “Thanks, my partner told me. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t have your number, and things were crazy, to say the least.”