“She’s not gonna quit, is she?” Brad asked.
“Not until she gets through to you. Believe me, I tried to ignore her the best I could. It’s easier to get with the program. Look, I’ve been where you are. It’s an ugly process. I was at my lowest point when Roni came along. You still have arms that work. I’d give anything to have what you have. My accident profoundly changed my life, but the weird thing is that I am a better man than I was before. I have a great relationship with my children now because I work at it and I’ve never been happier. There’s so much you can still do.”
“I can’t even feed my family anymore,” Brad said. “I can’t work construction. I didn’t go to college. What else am I going to do?”
“Go to rehab. Work your butt off and then come and work for me. I rehab hotels all over the world. I’m always looking for people who know about construction.”
Chapter Twenty
Anxiously awaiting the great chase, Roni and I sipped Quick Trip coffee while we waited for Ho Chi Minh to finish her session at the Work Simulator. The building also housed a number of physicians whose practices involved multiple specialties so there was a steady stream of patients arriving and leaving.
We were sitting in a sleek black Cadillac Escalade that belonged to Harley’s dad, who got stuck driving a five-year old Ford Focus. When we had discussed the plan, Riley Edelin had tried to craft a much more exotic role than the one he ended up with.
It was Harley who convinced his dad he should switch cars and pretend to be an older patient entering the building. At first, Riley had taken offense to Harley’s use of the word old gomer when describing Riley’s role. Ruffled feathers eventually soothed, Riley waited just down from the main entrance in his ride for his part of the plan to unfold.
Rain threatened as black clouds hovered and a constant drumbeat of distant thunder rumbled from the west. Roni was again reading the information Lionel Phelps had faxed as if there would be more revelations gleaned if she continued to study the pages.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” I asked.
“Our little Marian got her start as Marian Cirillo in Lexington, Kentucky. I booked a flight for tomorrow morning. I’ll see what I can dig up there and play it by ear after that.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” I said. “Lionel has access to some sophisticated search engines. We might have to expand our research capabilities at some point.”
“I think some of the more advanced stuff is pricey. It might be awhile before we can do that.”
“That’s true,” I said. “By the way, I finally found a home for the last kitten.”
“Have you figured out a strategy for your revenge?”
“I’m working on it,” I said. “Most of what I’ve come up seems a little harsh. I kind of like the idea of Harley looking over his shoulder, waiting for something to happen. It’s a little hard to stay focused. I like having a cat. I had Harley neutered and declawed. She seems very affectionate for a cat. I always thought cats were aloof but Harley’s a lap cat. That doesn’t mean some kind of retribution isn’t in the offing.”
“I understand. I’m sure it’s a matter of principle. Just try to keep the physical and property damage to a minimum.”
“Here comes Ho,” I said as the black Mustang pulled to the curb. Riley gunned the engine and pulled the Ford in front of the Mustang while Harley parked his lawn service company truck on the Mustang’s rear bumper.
Riley exited the Ford with a pronounced limp, grabbed a borrowed walker from the back seat, and proceeded to amble toward the front door. Harley jumped out of the truck, brushed the dirt off the back license plate of the Mustang, slid the GPS under the carriage, and hurried to the rear end of his truck to begin removing a lawn mower and other paraphernalia.
Roni and I watched the Mustang, wondering how long it would take for Ho or the driver to get out of the vehicle. A tall Asian man climbed out of the driver’s seat, looking angry and leaning into the car to finish a heated conversation with Ho before taking on Harley.
After he finally slammed his door shut, he stormed to the back of Harley’s truck and began pointing and shouting at Harley. Unfazed at first, Harley ignored the furious man, who continued to wave his arms dramatically.
“I wonder if he’s doing that for Ho’s benefit?” Roni asked.
“Yeah, he’s quite the little drama queen, isn’t he?”
“Harley’s starting to look pissed,” Roni said.
Harley seemed to be taking the tirade in stride until it became apparent, mostly because of the balled fists at his sides and the red blush on his face, that Harley might actually throw a punch.
“Oh Oh,” Roni said. “Come on, Harley, don’t blow it now.”
It suddenly seemed to dawn on Harley that his role wasn’t supposed to involve having a fistfight with Ho’s companion. He raised his arms in mock surrender, slowly loading his lawn equipment back in the truck while the Asian man glared at him. Satisfied he had performed brilliantly, Harley bowed for the benefit of the Asian man, climbed in his truck, and drove away.
“Harley is such a shit,” I said. “We’ll have to have a talk with him about overacting.”
The Asian man got back in the Mustang and pulled out of the parking lot with tires screaming. We followed at a distance; I was thinking about how smoothly Riley’s ride handled when I realized the black Mustang had stopped across the street from a Chinese restaurant called The King’s Wok. Ho seemed to hesitate but then jumped out of the Mustang and entered the business.
“Are we following the Mustang or staying with Ho?” I asked.
“Let’s stay with Ho,” Roni said. “It doesn’t look like the guy in the Mustang is going anywhere anyway.”
“Maybe she’s just getting take-out. We’ll have to check out the restaurant. Do you think I should go in there?”
“No, let’s wait,” Roni said.
“You’re probably right,” I said. “There’s no point in blowing you at this point. She’s already seen me at the doctor’s office. She’s very observant so I’m sure she’d remember. We might need to save you for later. Here she comes. No take-out. Have you noticed she always looks like a woman on a mission?”
“That and she gives off kind of a dangerous vibe,” Roni said as we followed the Mustang again. “Her body language screams don’t mess with me.”
“Maybe we should take that to heart.”
“Why start now?” Roni asked as we made our way through a residential area known as the Shaw neighborhood, which was filled with older, historic houses. It had become the chic thing to do in St. Louis; buy a run-down house and completely restore it to its former glory.
The Asian man was just pulling away from a large four story restored row house when I turned the corner and stopped. Ho scanned the area around her carefully before climbing the steps, inserting a key, and disappearing into the house. I parked at the end of the block to avoid arousing any suspicions. Besides, the parking spaces in front of the house were all taken.
“Let’s stick around for a while,” I said as I pulled out my Mac to complete some overdue reports. “As you know, my brother is a cop. I can get him to run the plate for us.”
“Won’t he get in trouble?” Roni asked.
“He’s OK with running plates,” she said. “That’s about it though. He can’t really do anymore than that.”
“I can check out the restaurant and this address again while you’re gone. By the time you get back, we might have some idea what our little Ho is up to.”
“I’ll give you Lionel’s number,” Roni said. “He can do some background checks when you get a name off the plates.”
“He’s going to be a good resource for us. It sounds like he has some great contacts.”
“Yeah, he does,” Roni said. “I feel a little guilty about asking David for help.”
“I’m sure he’s happy to do something for you, Roni. You were really there for him when he needed it.”
&nb
sp; After an hour and a half, there seemed to be a kind of disturbing pattern that emerged. Every 30 minutes, several men would leave the residence, climb in their vehicles, and drive away. They were quickly replaced by another group of men who arrived at five-to-ten minute intervals, parked, and entered the residence.
“So, is it just me or are you thinking the same thing?” Roni asked.
“You mean, do you think our little Ho really is a Ho?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Roni’s early flight into Lexington, Kentucky was already forgotten by the time she drove her bargain rental through the downtown streets. Though Lexington was billed as the Horse Capital of the World, this part of town was not full of rolling hills, green pastures or quaint farmhouses. This part of Lexington looked as if its residents barely eked out a living, leaving them no time or maybe more appropriately, no energy to maintain their houses in any kind of pristine condition.
Roni consulted the directions again, making the last turn that took her to Baker Street, where Marian’s brother, Anthony Cirillo lived. Roni had called from the airport. Given Anthony’s somewhat less than enthusiastic response, she had very low expectations for this interview.
She stopped two blocks down when she realized the number on the house matched the one on her directions. Last chance to forget all about this and go home she thought as she got out of the car and walked up the cracked concrete driveway.
Roni pressed the doorbell, took a deep breath, and waited. And waited some more. She rang the bell again and stepped back from the door, convinced Anthony Cirillo had either left or was now on the phone with his beloved sister Marian discussing Roni’s intrusion. As she was about to retrace her steps, the front door opened wide, revealing a slight, gray-haired man with small reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He was wiping his hands on a stained towel that had seen better days.
“I was working in my shop,” he said. “You must be Roni. Come on in.”
“I thought you weren’t going to answer the door,” Roni said. “You didn’t sound too eager to talk to me when I called.”
“I wasn’t and I’m not,” Anthony Cirillo said as he led Roni into a modest living room brimming with what looked like hand-made furniture. “Let’s sit in the kitchen. I made some coffee.”
“Did you make this?” Roni asked as she ran her hand along a smooth cherry side table.
“Yeah, I started making furniture as a hobby after my wife died,” he said. “I retired two years ago. I can’t keep up with the orders. I keep raising prices but people keep calling. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m making more money now than I ever did working at the factory. I’m going to open a shop downtown. Whoever said life is strange is right. Have a seat there and I’ll get you some coffee. How do you take it?”
“Black is fine,” Roni said as she sat down.
Anthony poured two cups and joined Roni at the table, handing her a large mug of the hot brew as he sat down. “How do you know Marian?”
“She just married my father. I don’t know much about her.”
“Trying to check her out, huh?” he asked as a mock stern expression appeared on his face.
“Every time I say it out loud it sounds worse. I’m worried about my father. No one seems to know anything about your sister so yeah, I am checking her out.”
“I guess my only surprise is that someone didn’t come sooner,” Anthony said. “Marian and I don’t get along as they say. She sends me one of those cheesy Christmas cards every year. You know the ones I’m talking about. Inside the card there’s this typed page full of a lot of crap about how rich she is and how well she and her kids are doing. God, I can’t stand those cards. I always want to write back and say yeah, my wife died, I have terminal cancer, I got audited, I smoke crack, you know stuff like that.”
“I get cards like that, too,” Roni said, laughing.
“Look, you seem like a nice lady,” Anthony said. “So, I’ll just tell you what I know, which isn’t much really. Marian and I grew up poor. Our father died when we were young and our mother worked two jobs and still had trouble putting food on the table. No one likes being poor but it really bothered Marian. She made up her mind early on she was going to escape. She didn’t care what happened to our mother or me. I think she decided to marry her way to a better life. Working for it or getting an education wasn’t on her agenda. She dated George Fitzgerald, got pregnant, got married, and left.”
“Where did they go?”
“They moved to Springfield, Missouri,” he said.
“Marian told me your mother died when she was 10.”
“I guess I left out the part about Marian being a liar,” he said. “Our mother died in 1972. Marian was 24. It was our father that died when we were young. I wonder why she would lie about that?”
“I’m not sure. It does seem kind of strange, doesn’t it?”
“I guess I sound bitter and I am to a certain extent,” he said. “Marian has a cold heart. She thought she was too good for us and left us behind like road kill. Even after our mother got cancer Marian still wouldn’t have anything to do with us. The last time I saw her was at her husband George’s funeral. That must have been in 1975. I thought I’d pay my respects and give it another shot, you know?”
“How did that work out?”
“Not too well,” Anthony said. “She made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Marian and George had two kids; I guess that was the real reason I went. I wanted to see them and I was hoping maybe I could have some kind of relationship with them. She made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. Other than those Christmas cards, I haven’t heard from her since.”
“Anthony, how did George die?”
“He fell down their basement stairs,” Anthony said. “Marian didn’t end up doing too well with her marriage escape plan.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, George’s brother, Ronnie, told me George was a drinker,” Anthony said. “He used to talk to George. Ronnie said that George couldn’t seem to keep a job and his marriage was on the rocks. One night, George got drunk and fell down the stairs.”
“It was an accident, right?”
“That was the official verdict,” Anthony said. “I know Ronnie thinks Marian was responsible. He still lives here. Maybe you should go see Ronnie.”
“What do you think, Anthony? Do you think Marian could have pushed George?”
“I don’t know,” Anthony said. “I guess that’s a horrible thing to think about your own sister, but to be honest, Marian always kind of scared me. I wouldn’t want to be the one standing in the way of something she wanted.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ronnie Fitzgerald owned a small horse farm on the other side of town. If all Roni had seen of Lexington was the area where Anthony lived she would have had a much different opinion than the one she had after driving through the rolling hills and farms that dotted the landscape on the outskirts of town. Ronnie Fitzgerald seemed agreeable to her visit after she explained she had some reservations about Marian.
It seemed like a perfect day to Roni as she drove along the country roads. Brilliant sunshine and a temperature in the low 80s cast a warm glow over the acres of green grass and flowers that had been planted everywhere. Roni turned at the sign for the Fitzgerald Farm and spotted a short, stocky man with a walrus mustache sitting on the front porch sipping what looked to be iced tea. Roni climbed out of the rental as the man came down the steps to meet her.
“Mr. Fitzgerald, I’m Roni Edelin,” she said as she extended her hand.
Ronnie Fitzgerald smiled as he shook her hand and said. “Imagine that. You’re the first woman I ever met who has the same name as me. It’s a small world, isn’t it? Why don’t we go up on the porch? How about some iced tea?”
“That sounds great. It’s such a beautiful drive out here.”
“That’s why I love it so much,” Ronnie said as they sat down and he poured Ron
i a glass of tea. It’s sweet tea. Is that OK?”
“That’s fine,” Roni said as she accepted the glass and took a sip.
“It’s a long drive from Anthony’s place,” he said.
“Do you know Anthony very well?”
“Yeah, we went to high school together,” he said. “Back then I lived in town with George and my folks. Marian, Anthony, and George and I all hung around together for a while. You were asking around after Marian, right?”
“Yeah, Mr. Fitzgerald, I was. Marian lives in Alton, Illinois now. She just married my father. Frankly, I’m a little concerned so I thought I’d check her out.”
“You want to know if you should be concerned, right?” he asked.
“At first, I thought Marian was OK. A couple of things have happened that have my imagination working overtime.”
“George was a great brother,” he began. “He was a lot of fun. I’m only a year younger. We were all friends back then. Marian liked to have a good time. She was attractive and George used to say the ‘the rest of the girls were made out of rags compared to her’. That’s how it was until everything changed.”
“How did it change?”
“I think Marian decided George was her ticket out of Lexington,” he said. “Suddenly, it wasn’t a group thing anymore. She wanted to be alone with George. I remember telling George she was gonna get pregnant on purpose, but he didn’t want to hear that. He really loved her, but I don’t think she ever loved him. Of course she got pregnant and had a girl and then a boy right away. She was always yelling at George. He started drinking and everything really started going down hill after that. Marian had to go to work. She turned into a bitter woman.”
“How long were they married?”
“Almost 10 years,” he said. “I kept thinking they would get divorced. They were both so unhappy. George just drank more and more. He lived with me for a while but eventually he moved back home. He said Marian thought it would be best for the kids. Two months later, he was dead. I wanted an autopsy, but by the time I got to Springfield and the funeral home Marian had already had George cremated. The Sheriff said there was nothing he could do.”
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