I’d thought I had myself under control, but the look on his face…
I balled my right hand into a fist and clenched my teeth. I wanted to hit this man, to hurt him.
He leaned toward me, his smile replaced by a smirk. “You want to kill me, don’t you?”
“You’re damn right I want to kill you, but I’ll be satisfied with putting you in prison—for a long time.”
He wagged his finger at me, as if I were a child. “Detective, of all people, you should know I won’t be here for long.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask your father. He’ll tell you how it works.”
“What the hell do you mean, ask my father? You never knew my father.”
Carlos said, “I see that blood runs strong in your family. You are just like him.”
“Like my…father?” I said. His words set me back. I wasn’t about to let him know he was getting to me, but I did wonder what the hell he was talking about. “Ramble on all you want, Cortes.”
The smirk on Carlos’ face begged to be smacked off. “I would have thought he taught you his business. It doesn’t matter; soon you’ll find that you don’t know Dominic Mangini like you think you do. He is no different than I am.”
“Dominic Mangini has nothing to do with me. Regardless, he might have broken a few laws in his life, but he’s a good man.”
Carlos laughed. “Yes, I’m sure he is. My children think the same of me.”
“Your children do? I’m not Dominic’s daughter.”
Carlos cocked his head to the side. “Really?”
I was getting pissed now. “Yeah, really. Mr. Mangini happened to be a friend of my mother’s, and he helped raise me when she died. I call him an uncle, but he’s no relation.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“Perhaps to try to convince yourself.”
Tip reached over and grabbed my arm. “Forget it, Connie.”
I shook him off and glared at Carlos. “Listen, asshole. Who Dominic Mangini is or isn’t doesn’t matter. What matters is what you did to that woman, and what matters more is where you’re hiding that little girl.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me about him?”
I scoffed. “Dominic Mangini is not my father.”
“Ask him,” Carlos said. “If he isn’t, someone went to great lengths to cover up who your father was. It certainly wasn’t Tommy Gianelli.”
I leaned back in my chair. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your father had a birth record,” Carlos said. “He had a marriage license. He had a death certificate. He had a credit card and a driver’s license. What he didn’t have, though, were church records. He was never baptized. Or confirmed. Or married. Not in a Catholic church.” Carlos waited a few seconds and then said, “Don’t you think a good Italian couple would have been blessed by the Church?”
I stood and leaned toward Carlos. “In a few minutes, I’ll be going home, and tonight, I’ll pray that someone in here has the balls to kill you.”
“Don’t waste your prayers on such foolishness, Detective. In here, I am a king.”
I walked to the door and opened it. “Tip, I’m going down the hall. I won’t mind if you kill him.”
“Don’t leave angry, Detective. I will tell my men to look out for the girl. After all, she has such beautiful lips—like her mother.”
I started after him, but Tip stepped between me and Carlos, and then he shoved me out the door. “Get out of here. I’ve got this.”
***
Tip put the cuffs on Carlos and yanked him toward the door. “Time to go.”
They walked down the hall, past the coffee room and the bathrooms on the way to the lockup.
“Your partner gets upset easily, Detective. Just like a woman.”
Tip stopped, turned, and headed back the way they had come. “I need to use the bathroom,” he said, and dragged Carlos with him. Once inside, Tip checked the stalls and then slammed Carlos against the wall. The first punch went to Carlos’ right kidney, dropping him to the floor. “That was for Kassie,” Tip said. “She was a damn good dog.”
He hit Carlos again, this time in the left kidney. “That was for Kelly.”
As he lay on the floor, gasping for breath, Tip kicked him in the balls. “And that’s for what you’re doing to the Sniders.”
Carlos screamed, and he squirmed away. Tip reached down and grabbed him by the hair, yanking him to his feet. “If that girl dies, or if anything happens to her, I’ll make sure you suffer.”
Carlos brushed his hair back in place with one hand, and pressed firmly against his kidney with the other. His face tightened with a look of pain. “Señor, you are the one who will suffer. Trust me. You will suffer like no other.”
Chapter 45
In the Dark of Night
Delgado grabbed the keys from Julie’s desk and walked to the coffee room, surprised to find Herb and Charlie still there. “Coop have you working late?”
“Everybody’s working late,” Herb said. “I think Coop called in every off-duty officer, and the chief has a dozen deputies from County on it too.”
“We need to find her,” Delgado said. “And quick.” He poured a coffee and grabbed a pack of cheese crackers from the table.
Charlie said, “Y’all heading out?”
“As soon as I finish this coffee and bleed the lizard.”
“Bleed the lizard?” Herb said.
Charlie laughed. “He means take a piss. Don’t tell me you never heard that.”
Ribs gulped down the last sip of coffee and tossed the cup in the trash. “Time for me to go.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Charlie said. “I’m going outside to catch a smoke anyway.”
“Wait up,” Herb said. “I need a smoke myself.”
Ribs gathered up Cruz and the Sniders. He held his hand out to Trisha. “Want to ride with me?”
She shook her head and grabbed her mother’s hand.
Ribs laughed. “I don’t blame you. I’d ride with your mom too if I were you.” He turned to Mr. Snider. “We’re ready.”
“What’s the plan?” Snider asked. “Where is this place?”
“I’ll be driving the lead car. Your family will be in the second car with two deputies, and Detective Cruz will follow them. It’s not far from here, but we’ll be taking a lot of detours and roundabout ways to get there. Don’t worry. No one will be able to follow us.”
Snider nodded and then he whispered, “I want to get them someplace so they can sleep.”
“I understand,” Delgado said and headed for the door. “Let’s move.”
The trip from the station to the safe house was only about 20 miles, but Ribs and Cruz had planned a route designed to lose a tail. That turned a twenty-five-minute drive into almost an hour, but it ensured a safe arrival. Ribs parked on the street in front of a ranch house with a two-car garage facing the street. After scanning the area, he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Cruz signaled to the deputies to stay put and then followed Ribs inside.
Delgado unlocked the door, and he and Cruz entered, weapons drawn. The door opened into a small entry hall. A few short strides led them to a hall branching to the left.
“Three bedrooms down there,” Ribs said. “Stay here while I clear the kitchen and garage.”
The living room lay open straight ahead, with a sliding door that led to the back patio and yard. To the right of the living room was a large kitchen with a table big enough to seat eight.
“Kitchen clear,” Ribs called then walked slowly toward the laundry room. He opened the door leading to the garage. “Clear,” he said. He then joined Cruz, and together they checked the bedrooms. After ten minutes, they came out of the house and gave the okay sign. The deputies pulled into the driveway and escorted the Sniders into the house.
“Is this where we’re gonna live?” Trisha asked.
“Only for a little while,” her mot
her said. “Just until Marissa comes home.”
Ribs waited to catch their attention. “Remember the rules. No calls to anyone. Not friends or relatives. Not even your mother. No leaving the house.” He knelt next to Trisha and pinched her cheeks. “And no worrying.”
She smiled. “I won’t.”
“Good girl,” he said, and rubbed her head.
Before leaving, he took Cruz aside. “A relief watch will be here in the morning. The password is ‘mansion.’ If they don’t have the password, shoot them.”
“We’re good,” Cruz said. “And tell Rosalee she owes me for this. I canceled a date.”
“I think it’s your date who owes me,” Ribs said. “See you tomorrow.”
***
Cruz shut the door and locked it before joining the Sniders in the kitchen. “In case you haven’t been introduced,” he said to the Sniders, “these fine deputies are Justin and Daniel.”
“We met in the car,” Cathy said. She fidgeted in her chair as she glanced around the room. “Will we be safe here?”
“We’ve got three officers, who will be with you the entire time,” Cruz said, and then he turned to one of the deputies. “Justin, why don’t you show Trisha to her room and find something on TV for her?”
“She’s going to sleep with us,” Cathy Snider said. “At least for tonight.”
“Of course,” Cruz said. He turned to Justin. “The master bedroom is at the end of the hall on the right.”
“Come on, Trish,” Justin said. “I’ll get you settled.”
When she was gone, Cruz sat with the Sniders. “Do you have any questions? Is there anything you need?”
Cathy Snider’s hands gripped the seat of the chair. She was shaking. “I’m worried about tomorrow.”
“About the lineup?”
She nodded.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ll be in a separate room, behind one-way glass. He won’t be able to see you, and after that, you won’t have to see him again until the trial, if there even is one.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’m still frightened. That man terrifies me.”
Patrick wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. “It’s all right. This will be over soon. We’ll get Marissa back and be a family again.”
“Your husband is right about that, ma’am. We will get her back.”
Patrick kissed her forehead. “You should take a shower and try to relax. After tomorrow, things will be better.”
“Your husband is right again, ma’am. We’ll get you through tomorrow, and then things will look up.”
“Have you ever done this before?” Cathy asked.
“You mean sat all night at a safe house?” Cruz laughed. “Detective Delgado and I spent three nights one time with a family, and the house was much smaller than this. I might add you should be thankful that Delgado isn’t here. He snores louder than anyone I know.”
Cathy Snider cracked a smile. “He seems like a nice man.”
“He is a good friend and an excellent detective. And more importantly, he is a wonderful husband and father. If I get married—I should say when I get married—I intend to learn from Delgado.” Cruz walked to the refrigerator and poured a glass of iced tea. As he returned to the table, he said, “But don’t you dare tell him I said that.”
Mrs. Snider smiled again. “Your secret is safe with me.” Her hand reached to cover a yawn. “Patrick, if you don’t mind, I think I will take that shower you suggested. Good night, Detective Cruz. You’ve been very helpful.”
“Good night, ma’am.”
***
Tico’s phone rang as he was driving back to Carlos’ house. Chappo was in the passenger seat. “Hello?” Answering in English felt unnatural, but Carlos insisted on them perfecting the language, and Carlos was not a man one disobeyed.
“Don’t go home,” the voice said in a thick Mexican accent. “Carlos has been arrested, and cops are at the house.”
“Thank you for the call.”
“That’s not all. I have an address.”
“Wait,” Tico said, and he pulled to the side of the road. He opened the console and found a pen and a pad of paper. “What is it?”
The voice gave him an address, which Tico scribbled on the notepad. He confirmed the address and then hung up.
“Who was that?” Chappo asked.
“A voice on the telephone,” Tico said, and he turned at the next intersection.
“Where are we going?”
“To the warehouse. Police have Carlos, and they are waiting at the house.”
At the next traffic signal, Tico turned on the overhead light and looked up a number. He dialed the phone. A woman answered.
“I have an address for you,” Tico said.
Chapter 46
Who Is My Father?
I drove home slower than normal, afraid I’d fall asleep and kill myself, or worse, someone else. My head throbbed, and I didn’t know if it was the muggy weather or the stress of this case. None of it was helped by what Carlos had said. No matter how much I tried dismissing it as his trying to get under my skin, the fact was, what he said carried the ring of truth. If there really weren’t any church records—why not?
I never knew my father, but if I knew anything, it was that my mother would have never been married outside the Church.
If Carlos is telling the truth, why aren’t there church records?
Other things came to mind. How Dominic took care of Mom, the way he read to her when she was bedridden, and how he took her to church every Sunday, no matter what else he had to do.
Why did he do that? And why didn’t Mom get married again? I stopped, dumbstruck. For the first time in my stupid life, I realized that Dominic was in love with her.
Is Carlos right?
I resisted the urge to dial Dominic’s number. In ten minutes I’d be home; I could call him from there. When I walked in the front door, Hotshot greeted me with a swat. I scooped him up and gave him a hug. He must have been in a good mood because he let me squeeze him. After a few minutes of pampering the silly cat, I took a deep breath and got down to business. This was not going to be a pleasant call.
Dominic answered on the third ring. He seldom let it go longer. “Pronto.”
“Uncle Dominic, it’s me.”
“Concetta, what did I do to deserve a call from you?”
How to answer that? I decided on the truth. “That’s what I’m calling to find out.”
“What does that mean?”
Uncle Dominic appreciated directness in others. I hoped he wouldn’t mind it from me. “What you told me about my father, was it the truth?”
“About your father? Why do you ask?”
“You taught me too well, Uncle Dominic. That sounds like a question given to avoid an answer.”
“I told you before. Your father died when you were young. No more than a few months old.”
“You told me my father was a drug addict.”
“He was, and he died because of drugs.”
Something didn’t feel right about this conversation. Despite that, I wanted to believe him. “Uncle Dominic, I have trusted you and loved you all of my life. Please tell me the truth. Are you my father?”
A moment of silence followed. I thought for sure that when he spoke again, I’d be hearing a lie. “My dear, Concetta. Nothing in the world would make me prouder, or happier, than to be your true father. But I’m not. What I told you is true. Your father died when you were young. If you don’t believe me, do one of those tests with DNA.”
“And my mother?”
He was silent for what seemed like an hour, and when he spoke, his pain came through the phone. “Maria was the only woman I have ever loved. I would have done anything for her, but she wouldn’t marry me because of who I was. My biggest regret in life is not marrying her.”
I heard familiar sounds through the phone—the dull thud of Uncle Dominic’s pipe as he tapped it against the cork surrounding his ashtray; the click o
f his lighter followed by the intake of short, rapid breaths, as he brought life to the tobacco; and the subtle hiss of air being sucked through the twisted stem. I could almost see the billows of smoke, smell the pungent aroma.
God, I miss my family.
“I would have,” he said.
“Would have what, Uncle Dominic?”
“I would have married her.”
Tears ran down the side of my face. “I’m sorry I asked. It’s just…”
“That’s all right. I understand. Ti voglio bene.”
I wiped my eyes, and said, “I love you, too, Uncle Dominic.”
“Now that we have that nonsense settled, you better get to bed. It’s late.”
I laughed. Uncle Dominic was forever telling me to get sleep, but he seldom heeded his own advice. “I will. Goodnight.”
“Buonanotte.”
I felt better after talking to Uncle Dominic. I hated to admit it, but I usually did. He had a way of making me see things in a different light. I should have known that Carlos was full of shit, but…something in the way he’d said it made me believe him.
After a quick shower, I put on pajamas and crawled under the covers. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I decided I needed to say a prayer. I clasped my hands and closed my eyes.
“God, I know you don’t hear much from me, but I guess you know that when I do ask a favor, it’s real, and it’s not for me. I know you’re supposed to see everything, but in case you haven’t been paying close attention, we’ve got a family suffering down here. Their little girl has been taken by horrible people. You’ve got to help me find her, God. Please? I’ll owe you one if you do.”
I made the sign of the cross and laid my head on the pillow sideways. Then I reverted to the folded-hands position. “One more thing, God. Try to help Uncle Dominic. I know he’s done a lot of wrong, but he’s a good man. He just needs guidance.”
I had a smile on my face as I drifted off to sleep.
***
Dominic hung up the phone and drew heavily on his pipe. After a few moments, he poured a glass of brandy, and took a seat in his favorite chair, overlooking the patio. He didn’t stir when Zeppe walked in.
Bullet From Dominic Page 24