by Nancy Moser
Cal looked at his watch. Annie and Avi were at their rehearsal. Just as well. He needed some time to regroup. “Actually, she's gone for the afternoon. I'm going to take it easy.”
“Gaze at your spoils?”
Cal took his receipt. “Sure.”
“Hey,” Chuck said, drawing Joe close. “I have a great idea. Since the wifey's not home, how about we go to your house and share a few? Toast your success. You got a couple beers?”
It might be nice. Chuck was a good guy. And since Annie was gone… “I think I can scrounge some up.”
The kid spoke for the first time. “I don't know about that. I…uh…”
Chuck leveled him with a look. “You have better things to do, Joe?”
Joe blinked twice. “Uh, no. I guess not.”
“Then lets get going. We'll follow you.”
Once they were on the highway to Steadfast, Jinko pounced. “What was all that hemming and hawing about? Getting into his house is imperative. Getting invited to his house so we can see its setup and even see where he puts the coins is a bonus we can't pass up.”
Jered hated to say it, but he had to. “I know his wife.”
Jinko swerved toward the shoulder then back. “What?”
“He said his name was Cal McFay. As far as I know, only one McFay family lives in Steadfast. Which means his wife is a waitress at the Plentiful Cafe. She knows me—or she knows who I am.”
“Great, just great.” Jered could hear Jinko breathing. Finally, Jinko said, “But Cal didn't recognize you.”
“I've never met him. Just her. And only when I've come into the cafe to eat something. Nowhere else.”
“So maybe she won't know you.”
Shell know me. Annie remembers everybody's name.
Jinko repeated himself. “So maybe she won't know you.”
Jered shrugged and tried to think of something positive. “Cal said his wife wasn't home. Annie isn't home.”
“True. We may have lucked out.” Jinko tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “We get in, scope out the place, drink one beer, then get out. It'll be fine.”
“Maybe.” Jered looked at Cal's truck a quarter mile in front of them. “But maybe we should just turn around and go home. He might not even notice we're gone until it's too late. And he'll think we remembered something else we had to do. It'll be over. He'll never see us again.”
“You turning chicken on me? Wanting to run and hide before things even start?”
Exactly. “I don't like the idea of tooling around Steadfast in the daytime again. Even though Cal doesn't know me, other people do.”
“When we get to town, duck down.”
“But won't Cal think it's strange?”
“So what? You spilled your drink on the floor of the car or something. You really think he's going to ask even if he does notice?”
Probably not.
“We're doing this, kid. We've come too far to turn back. We're on the edge of the payload of payloads. Fate placed us next to the big bidder of the day, the one who not only bought the three most precious coins at the auction, but who now has a complete set. Any man who spends nearly five thousand dollars at a coin auction has got to have ten times that much at home.”
Bonnie came through the kitchen door of Palamba's. But instead of picking up her order or entering it into the computer, she came directly to Vasylko's side.
The cook glanced up from the fajita steak he was grilling. He noticed her face was pale. “What wrong?”
She eyed the door. “Two cops are here wanting to talk to Jinko. And Jered, too.”
And Vasylko knew—he knew—what it was about: judgment day. “They not here.”
“I told them that. But they have a few questions. Should I talk to them?”
Vasylko didn't think Bonnie knew anything. And Jinko had left him in charge. “I talk.”
“But it's getting busy.”
“Not busy yet. Have them come here. I take minute.”
“Are you sure?”
“I sure.” But he wasn't sure. Wasn't sure if he should talk to the police or what he would say. And he didn't much like police. The ones in Russia… But this was America. Things were different here.
The rules were different. Better. God, help me do the right thing.
Bonnie led two men into the kitchen. Vasylko was glad they were wearing overcoats and not uniforms. Even with that, they got enough looks from the other employees. And he was sure Bonnie was already spreading the news.
“I'm Detective Robinson and this is Detective Spencer. Thanks for agreeing to speak with us, Mister…?”
“Vasylko Andropov.”
The shorter one with the mustache—Spencer-—took out a notepad and pen. “Can you spell that?”
“No problem. Hold please.” He served up the steak fajitas and wiped his hands on a towel. He motioned to the back door. “We go outside?” rine.
Vasylko grabbed a jacket on the way out. He spelled his name, gave an address and phone number, then said, “Okay, shoot.”
“Where is your boss and Jered Manson?”
“They took day off.”
“Do you know why?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets against the cold. “They in trouble?”
“Perhaps.” He eyed Vasylko a moment. “Does that surprise you?”
“No.”
“Can you explain?”
How should he word it? “Jered good kid, wants to be musician. Jinko help him—or say he help him.”
“Help him how?”
“Get audition. He give Jered place to stay”
“Why?”
Vasylko wished he could say it was because Jinko was such a nice man, but he couldn't. It was the time for the truth. “Jinko made him…owe him. Jered owe him.”
Robinsons eyebrows rose. “For giving him a place to stay?”
“And job. Jered wash dishes.”
Spencer tapped his pencil on the pad. “So Jinko promises Jered a break in the music business, provides him with a place to stay and a job…for what? I'm guessing it wasn't done from the goodness of his heart. What did Jered have to do for him?”
This was the hard part. Vasylko dragged a toe on the concrete. “Jered help him.”
“Do what?”
Vasy glanced up, then down. “Whatever Jinko want.”
“Sexual favors?”
“No, no! Not that.” At least not that he knew of. “What I see I only guess. I don't know.”
“None of us know. That's why we're investigating. To find out.”
“What this about?”
“We've had a couple burglaries. One of the victims ID'd Jered Manson's truck. A patrol car spotted it at Jinko's address. A neighbor said the boy has been living there with Mr. Daly. We traced him to this restaurant. We obtained a search warrant and this morning found some of the stolen property in the truck.”
Vasylko's shoulders were heavy.
“Is this what you suspected?”
He nodded.
“What did you see?”
It was time for the truth. For Jered. The boy would be in trouble, but a little trouble was better than the big trouble that was sure to come. Vasylko told them about the odd shipments of liquor and the suspicious comings and goings of Jinko and Jered during business hours. “Jered good kid.”
“Not anymore.”
Vasylko put a hand on Spencer's arm. “No. He good kid now. He just tempted.”
“Temptation is the way of the world, Mr. Andropov. It's what we deal with every day.”
Vasylko nodded. It was an unfortunate truth. “You arrest them?”
“We want to bring them in for questioning.”
“Maybe they explain.”
“Let's hope so.”
The policemen left, but Vasylko lingered outside a moment. The day was overcast. It looked like snow. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Father, help them. Be with Jinko and Jered. Make it work out Your way.
“You going t
o be okay, Mama?” Avi asked.
Annie sat on the couch and put her feet on the coffee table. “I'll be fine. Sorry I made us leave the rehearsal early, sweet-apple. You could have stayed.”
“It's okay. They got to my angel part. I know what to do. Besides, I didn't want you to come home alone, all sick.” She spread an afghan over her mothers legs.
“You're a good girl, you know that?”
“I'm going up in my cubby, okay?”
“That's fine.”
Annie closed her eyes, mentally following the sounds of Avis footsteps on the stairs, down the hall into the master closet, to her cubby. Contentedly tucked away. Good.
If only she could find a bit of that contentment for herself. Ever since her argument with Cal that morning, Annie's stomach had been acting up. She'd tried to dismiss it as the flu or something she ate, but she knew it was stress. This morning's argument was serious, with a lot at stake.
“Choose now, Annie! Him or me!”
At the moment she didn't know if she could choose between coffee or tea. Her mind was a jumble and her stomach agitated like a washing machine. She put a hand on her midsection, trying to calm it.
Suddenly, she heard Cal's truck pull into the driveway. Her stomach offered a new surge. He was home! The auction was over. The auction she should have attended.
Father, please help me get through this. Help me only say what You want me to say. Fm so weary… Help me not make things worse.
Annie waited for her husband.
Cal sat in his truck a moment. In front of him, in the driveway, was Annie's car. She was home. Why was she home?
He looked behind him and saw Chuck park on the street in front of the house next door. He and Joe got out and started walking up the driveway. Cals mind swam. What could he say to stop them from going in, or more important, to stop them from saying how much he spent at the auction? Maybe Chuck would instinctively keep his secret. Chuck seemed to be the type who would keep a few secrets of his own from his wife. If he had one.
As Cal retrieved his coins and exited the truck, he realized he knew nothing about Chuck or Joe. While he'd gone on and on about his fictitious coins, Chuck hadn't offered a single detail about his life. Or his coin collection. And Cal hadn't asked. Why hadn't he asked?
Chuck caught up with him and slapped him on the back. “What are we waiting out here for? I'm ready for that beer.”
What could he do? Cal went up the steps to the back door. “Come on in.” He scanned the kitchen and was relieved Annie wasn't there. Maybe someone had picked her up for rehearsal.
Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway to the living room. “Hi, hon.” Her eyes moved past him to the others. “Who have we…?”
Cal didn't understand the look on his wife's face. He turned around to look at Chuck and Joe. Joe's face was pasty, and he hung in the space of the open door as if to come farther inside would be moving into danger.
And for the first time, Chuck seemed a bit unsure of himself. He took a step back. “Sorry. We don't mean to intrude. We'd better be going.”
Annie walked into the kitchen. “Jered? Is that you?”
Cal shook his head. “This is Chuck and this is Joe. I met them at the coin auction.”
She took a step toward the boy. “Jered, your dad's been so worried about you! Where have you been?”
Cal didn't understand.
Annie poked him in the arm. “This is Bailey's boy. Jered.”
Cals entire morning played back like a foreign film in need of subtitles. “But you said your name was Joe. Chuck said you were his nephew.”
As Cal talked, as Joe/Jered stared at him with his mouth moving but not saying a word, Chuck calmly shut the kitchen door. And locked it. When he turned around he had a grin.
And a gun.
“How about that beer?”
Fifteen
Therefore pride is their necklace;
they clothe themselves with violence.
From their callous hearts comes iniquity;
the evil conceits of their minds know no limits.
PSALM 73:6-7
JERED STARED AT THE GUN. Cal stared at the gun. Annie stared at the gun.
“Put that thing away,” Cal said.
Jered seconded that notion. If he'd known Jinko was going to use a gun, he never…
“Alas,” Jinko said with an exaggerated sigh, “I wish I could. But I can't. Now, if you'll sit, we'll get down to business and be on our way.”
“What business?” Cal said.
“The coin business.” Jinko motioned toward the table with the gun. “Sit. If you please.”
Cal and Annie sat. Jered stood behind Jinko, not knowing what to do. Should he sit, too? At the moment he felt more on the McFay's side than Jinko's.
“Jered, go to the front door and lock it. Then check the house. See if anyone else is here.”
Annie piped up. “No one else is here. Just us.”
“We'll see.”
Jered left and did as he was told. It was a nice house, if a little messy. Jinko would have a fit if his house ever looked this way. His eyes lingered on the Christmas tree. A full-sized one. Not the table-top size Jinko had.
No one was around. He came back to the kitchen. Jinko had pulled out a kitchen chair and had a foot on it as he leaned on his thigh.
“Anyone?”
“Nope. There is a little girls room. But she's not here.”
“Where's your daughter?” Jinko asked.
Annie answered. “Cal has a child by a previous marriage. She's at her mother's this weekend. We keep a room for her.”
Jinko turned to Jered. “Is that true?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I never paid much attention to the little kids around town.”
“Oh, no. You were too busy becoming a famous musician.”
Jinko's voice was full of mocking. Jered didn't understand—or like it.
“How is your music coming, Jered?” Annie asked.
“Not too—”
Jinko's foot hit the floor. “Quiet! This is not old home week.”
“What do you want?” Cal asked.
As Jinko talked, he practice-aimed at various things around the kitchen. “We want your coins, Cal. Namely, your Barber collection.”
“I…” Cal shifted in his chair.
“What's a Barber collection?”
Jinko rolled his eyes. “You really need to educate the little woman, Cal.” He turned to Annie like a frustrated teacher. “It's a collection of Barber half-dollars dated from 1892-1915. Today at the auction your husband purchased the final three coins to make his collection complete.”
Annie looked at Cal. “What is he talking about?”
Cal's eyes flitted from his wife to Jinko then Jered. Something wasn't right.
“I…I bought a few coins. At the auction. Like I told you I would do.”
“He spent nearly five thousand,” Jinko said.
“What?”
Cal touched his wife's arm. “I got everything I was looking for. It was a very successful auction.”
“But five thousand dollars? You had to dip into my inheritance. You got after me for wanting to donate to a charity, then you go and blow our money on a few coins? I never dreamed you planned on spending that kind of—”
Jinko laughed. “Although I'm enjoying the sitcom confrontation, you can duke it out later. Right now, we just want the collection, then we'll be on our way.”
Annie put a hand to her forehead. “A collection? Cal, what have you done?”
Cal felt like a mouse in a maze, boxed into a corner. Why had he bragged about coins he didn't own? If it weren't for that bragging, these two thieves wouldn't be here, holding his family at gunpoint.
Family? Avil Where is Avi? Bailey's boy had searched the house and hadn't found her. Was she at a friends? Annie had been pretty smart to say Avis bedroom belonged to a stepdaughter who was away. At least Chuck wouldn't be looking for her.
But where was she?
Chuck hit him on the side of his shoulder with the gun. “Hey, coin man. You can do the checkbook hustle later. Just get the coins and we'll be going.”
This was a nightmare. Maybe if he confessed right away, before it went any further… He scraped a spot of dried food from the table with a fingernail. “I may have exaggerated a bit.”
The look Annie gave him was every bit as biting as Chuck's.
There was no way out. None. He took a deep breath, fueling his confession. “I lied, okay? I said I had a collection of Barber halves and a bunch of coins, and I don't.”
For the first time, Jered spoke. “You don't?”
“No.”
“There.” Annie turned to Chuck, and Cal saw hope in her eyes. Her voice was pleading. “See? He doesn't have what you want. You can leave now. We promise not to say a word to anyone. Please go. Please.”
“I'm afraid we can't do that, little lady.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don't believe your husband. A man doesn't spend five thousand at an auction unless he owns coins and knows a lot about coins.”
Wanna bet? Now Cal really felt like a fool. “I don't have any other coins. Honest.”
Chuck laughed. “‘Honest,’ he says? Honest? Either you lied at the auction or you're lying now. One or the other. Neither is the action of an honest man.”
Cal slapped a hand on the table. “I don't have any other coins! Search the house if you want and you'll—”
“No!” Annies eyes were wild. Cal watched as she forced calm into them. “I will not have two strangers rummaging through my house.”
Chuck looked around the kitchen. “Looks like someone's been rummaging already. You wouldn't win any awards for housekeeping, lady.”
“The name's Annie, and I'll thank you to hold your comments about my housekeeping to yourself.”
“A cluttered house indicates a cluttered mind,” Chuck said.
“Jinko is a neat freak,” Jered said. “You should see his—”
Cal caught the slip. “Jinko?”
Chuck/Jinko whapped Jered's chest with the back of a hand. “Shut up, kid! Shut up.”
Jered put a hand to his mouth. “Oh. Sorry. Sorry.”
“That's an interesting name, Jinko,” Annie said. “Is that your real name or a nickname?”