by A W Hartoin
“Glad to hear it. Take him to the office. Under no circumstances take him to Olivia.”
Olivia was Stevie’s mother. She doted on her only son and was convinced he was misunderstood. I liked Olivia, but how much evidence do you need?
“Like I’d do that.”
“Well, you know he’s gotten girls to do stupid things before.”
“Are you saying that you think Stevie Crown can fast-talk me?”
She started laughing and told Dad what I said. I could hear him chuckle in the background. Mom was still laughing when we hung up. I wasn’t laughing. Stevie was six four and I was five two. I’d have to outsmart him. That wouldn’t be difficult, but I only had two hours to work out a plan and get to the airport.
What I needed was a partner, but all my usual picks were busy. My boyfriend Pete was working yet another shift in the ER. My best friend Carly was a dim possibility. Carly could be counted on for hosting teas, shopping, and pep talks. Nabbing wayward young criminals wasn’t her bag. I wasn’t even sure she knew how to lie. No, Carly was out. There was Chuck, but he might take a dim view of not arresting Stevie and he still wasn’t answering my calls. Plus, I didn’t want him thinking we were even for Pick. What I needed was a woman. A good-looking woman with flexible morals and time to kill. Claire. She owed me. No, wait a minute, I owed her or were we even? If she did it, I’d definitely owe her. Then I’d have to finish with Evan. There was no way around it.
I called Claire at home. She was also, I suspect, watching Denzel. “Claire, it’s Mercy. Are you busy?”
“No. Did you find him?”
“Ah, no, but I have an excellent lead. I’m going to follow it tomorrow. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Sure, anything. I appreciate what you’re doing for me with the whole Evan thing.”
“Can I pick you up in fifteen minutes? I need to get someone at the airport.”
She hesitated. “Sure. I’ll be ready.”
I went to Dad’s to get some necessaries and his car. I figured it was the least he could do. I picked up Claire quick, so she wouldn’t have too much time to think. Claire got in and smoothed her black tailored slacks and took off her coat. She could’ve looked a little sleazier for my purposes, but she was classy eye candy. Along with her slacks, she wore a cashmere cowl-neck sweater that hung low enough to show a hint of breast, pearl earrings, and stiletto-heeled boots. She smelled like something from Estee Lauder, not White Linen. That was my scent, although I wasn’t wearing it or anything else that matched up to Claire.
I looked her over too long and she started to squirm in her seat. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing. You look nice. Were you going out or something?”
“No.”
God help me. The woman just sat around looking like that. I started the drive to the airport and tried to think of an appealing way to tell Claire about Stevie.
She didn’t give me much time. “Why do you need help at the airport?”
“My parents asked me to pick someone up.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, he doesn’t exactly want to be picked up.”
“Then why are you picking him up?”
“You know how I told you my parents were out of town on a case? He’s the case.”
“But—”
“I know. Hear me out. His name’s Stevie Crown. He stole his mother’s Jag and credit cards a month ago. Dad tracked him to Florida, but he got on a plane before Dad could catch him. He wants us to grab him when he gets off the plane and deliver him to his father.”
“Can’t you call the police?”
“It’s better if it’s kept a family matter for now.”
Claire nodded. That was something she understood. “Is he dangerous?”
“Don’t worry. Stevie’s just smart enough to breathe. Now, he knows me, but he doesn’t know you. All you have to do is get his attention and get him to walk you out to our car. I’ll take it from there.”
“How do I get his attention?”
“Ask directions, look stupid and helpless, and flirt like it’s going out of style. I’m telling you, he’s a nimrod. He’d follow you to Botswana, if he thought there were sex and a beer in it for him.”
“OK. If you think I can do it.”
“Great. Don’t worry about a thing.”
We pulled into Lambert International parking garage and got a handy space in Level G between two Suburbans. We got out and I checked my gear.
“What is that?” Claire asked.
“A Universal handheld taser. It’s Mom’s. Smaller handle.”
“And why do you have it?”
“Stevie’s probably not going to want to get in the car. I’ll have to encourage him. No permanent effects.”
“And those?” She pointed to a bunch of industrial strength zip-ties.
“Easier than handcuffs. Let’s go.”
We went into the terminal and checked the flight times. Claire took position next to the security exit and I was farther away behind a kiosk. The plane was on time by some miracle and a glut of passengers rushed off. I could see Claire checking and rechecking the photo I’d given her of Stevie. I didn’t think he’d be hard to miss and he wasn’t. He was the tallest guy going, dressed in preppy casual. His black hair was longer than I remembered and he sported sideburns. His height and his clothes made him seem older than he was. Stevie was nineteen.
He passed Claire and she pulled out behind him, then I pulled out behind her. As instructed, she waited to see if he would head for baggage. He didn’t. I guessed that whatever happened to the Jag happened to the rest of his stuff, too. Claire hesitated and looked back at me. I nodded and she went in. She collided with him and spilled her purse. Stevie helped her pick her things up, they stood and started talking. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Claire was working it. She tossed her hair, hand on hip, and strategically fiddled with her collar and pulled it lower. It was high school all over again. At least this time she was working for me instead of against me.
When they stopped at the elevator, I dodged around them and sprinted up the escalator. I was huffing when I got to the car. I needed a gym membership bad. I opened the driver’s side door, pulled out the taser, and charged it. There weren’t too many people walking around and I could hear Claire’s voice when they entered Level G. I hid behind the Suburban furthest from them and waited. Their voices got very close and I heard Claire pop the trunk. I peeked out from around the truck and saw Stevie standing with his back to me.
Sweet!
I stepped out and said, “Hi Stevie.” Before he turned, I zapped him on the butt. He bonked his head on the bumper as he went down, but he didn’t make a sound. We pulled him by his feet to the back door. I zip-tied his hands and feet twice and hoisted him in. We laid him, none too gently, on the floor and covered him with Dad’s emergency blanket. The whole thing took a half hour.
Five minutes later, Stevie got control of limbs. He kicked off the blanket and stuck his head between the seats.
“Hey Mercy. How you doin?”
“Fine and you?”
“Got a headache.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t be helped.”
“I thought it’d be your dad.”
“Nope, he’s in Florida.”
“Oh yeah. Where are we going? Home?”
“Fat chance.”
“Who’s this?” Stevie said as he checked his reflection in my rearview mirror.
“This is Claire.”
“Claire. What a great name. You from around here?”
“I already told you.”
“Oh, yeah. You busy tonight, Claire?”
Stevie gave her his best shelter-dog look. It was the patented if-you-just-take-me-home-and-train-me-properly-I-could-be-a-good-boy look. It’d worked before, and it was on the verge of working on Claire.
“I’m hungry. Who wants Arby’s?” I said.
“Me. Let’s eat.” Stevie wiggled his way into eating position on th
e back seat.
We mulled over our choices at the Arby’s drive-thru and then Stevie ordered enough to make me think about getting reimbursed by his father. Claire ordered a diet soda and some grilled chicken thing. I was going to order two Beef and Cheddars with curly fries, but thought better of it after Claire ordered.
While we ate I did a little minor interrogation. “I have to ask, Stevie, why did you come back? I’m mean, seriously, are you crazy? You knew my dad was after you.”
“I needed some money.”
“Who’s gonna give you money?”
“Mom.”
“What about her Jag?”
“What about it?”
“You stole it.”
“No way! I’d never do that. I borrowed it.” Emphasis on the borrowed.
“For a month? Where is it?”
“A friend has it.”
“A friend. Would this be a friend from the track?”
“Yeah, he’s there a lot. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
Claire turned to him. “Your father could have you arrested.”
“He’d never do that. Mom wouldn’t let him. Besides, I borrowed it.”
I let that go and drove in silence. Stevie was going to be arrested. Big Steve had reported the Jag stolen and Olivia didn’t know. I didn’t want to be around when she found out. Stevie probably wouldn’t clue in until he was fingerprinted.
I pulled around back of the Crown office building and called up. Big Steve and a couple of his associates came down. They pulled Stevie out of the car and cut the zip-ties around his feet and hands. Big Steve watched a few feet away and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Hi, Dad!” Stevie said.
“Hello, son.” They looked at each other, Big Steve’s intelligent eyes looking into Stevie’s blank ones. I’d have liked to have known their thoughts, except Stevie probably didn’t have any.
Big Steve turned to me and said, “Mercy, thank you for doing this. If you need anything, call me.” He gave me a look that I knew meant absolutely anything and I took note. Stevie started talking about his flight and we left. I dropped Claire off and went home to find Pick in the fridge eating hot dogs. Skanky was crouched a couple of feet away, gnawing on a dog of his own. Dog and cat had come to an understanding. Pick was the brains of the operation and Skanky had the inside dope.
For the next three days I slogged my way through Peds. Mrs. Jackson walked Pick for me and Chuck was still MIA. On the fourth day, I planned to sleep until hunger or the phone woke me. Neither did. At ten till seven something started pestering me. This went on for a while despite much cursing and position changing. It was Skanky. He was tenderizing my entire body like I was a huge steak. Pick joined in by licking. When Skanky started meowing, I gave up and fed them.
I hit the road by eight-thirty. Lucky for me there was only one bank in St. Seb. The bank was a one-story art deco affair in sad shape. The lobby wasn’t much better. I didn’t see anyone who fit the description Christina gave me. A couple of blond tellers eyed me at the far end of the counter. I walked over and said, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for someone.”
“Who?” they said.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a name. She’s in her thirties, blond, big nose and wears a lot of jewelry.”
They looked at each other and shrugged.
“Her husband may have disappeared about nine years ago.”
“Evelyn!” they said and gave each other a high five.
“Evelyn?”
“Evelyn Calvin or Sorbeck. Take your pick,” said the heavier of the duo. It said Judy on her name tag.
The other one tagged Sara said, “Please. I wouldn’t try calling her Sorbeck, if you know what I mean.”
“She’s divorced?”
“Doubt it,” said Sara.
“Didn’t hang around long enough for that. When he split, he was G-O-N-E.”
“And he got it all. Least that’s what I heard.” Sara looked at Judy.
“Oh, yeah. He took everything, including her sense of humor,” said Judy.
“Did you ever meet him?” I asked.
“Yeah. We all went out to dinner a few times.”
“I never liked him,” said Sara.
“You did too. We all did. He was so sweet and—”
“And full of shit.”
“Yes he was, but we did like him. Until later of course.”
“Full of shit?” I said.
“Oh, yeah. He could really lay a load and we bought it all,” said Judy.
“I wouldn’t say that. We sort of wanted to believe it. It’s not like we could prove that he was lying,” said Sara.
“What did he say?” I said.
They put down their coffee cups, looked around, and edged closer to me.
“He said he was in the CIA and not to talk about him to strangers,” said Judy.
“He told me he was a Green Beret and had a Top Secret clearance,” said Sara.
“How about that he was a spy in Red China.”
“Or how he invented the Internet.”
“That was Gore.”
“I know, but Evan said it too, I swear.” Sara crossed her heart.
“What a loser. I felt so sorry for Evelyn when he ran off. You know he’d maxed all her credit cards and she’d bought him a brand-new car.”
“What about the loans?”
“Oh lord, the loans. She is still paying them off.”
“Loans?” I said.
“She took out a collateral loan on her own car so he could reestablish his credit after being undercover as a spy and all.” Judy rolled her eyes.
“And worse, the home equity loan. That was thirty-five thousand dollars.”
“How much did he take her for?” I said.
“Who knows. I think he cleaned out her accounts too,” said Sara.
“He just disappeared one day?”
“No, she found him out,” said Judy.
“How’d that happen?”
“He tried to take out a home loan in her name at another branch. I think it was about to go through, but our manager found out and asked her why she didn’t apply for it here.”
“Yeah, she called him up and he denied it. They faxed her the paperwork and there it all was clear as day. He forged her signature. She was crying and Dale had to drive her home. Dale’s our manager. When they got there, Evan was gone,” said Sara.
“What did she do? Did the police have any leads on him?” I asked.
“I never heard anything about that. He left and she turned into a world-class bitch.”
“Tell me about it,” said Judy. “We were all such good friends. We went to lunch, got manicures. I told her everything. She used to come to my little boy’s birthday parties. After he left, she acted like she didn’t know us.”
“I tried to talk to her, ask her how it was going, but nothing. She wouldn’t say word one. She transferred right away to Belleville and got promoted. She never had any ambition before,” said Sara.
“She had to pay off all those loans and cards,” said Judy.
“Is she still working at the Belleville branch?” I asked.
“Uh huh. Why do you want to know about this anyhow?” asked Sara.
“Sorbeck’s up to his old tricks.”
“Oh no! Not one of your friends, I hope.”
“Afraid so.”
“Damn. What a bastard!”
“I do think he was from around here though,” said Judy.
“What makes you say that?” I said.
“He knew a lot about the area. He told me stuff I didn’t know and it was true. Once he spent an hour telling me all about the county fair here in St. Seb. This was in the spring because Evelyn was planting flowers while we talked. Now, he only lived here for three months before he ran off and he said his family was from California. The fair is in August.”
“I have to go, ladies. You’ve been a big help,” I said.
“Anytime. You know, you really remind me of somebody,” Judy said.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I said.
“I bet you do,” said Sara with a laugh. “I wouldn’t mind looking like Marilyn.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
I got in my car and called Christina. She wasn’t in, but her husband was. He reluctantly gave me her work phone. I called her and asked where Evan, the real one, went to high school. St. Sebastian Senior High.
Sweet.
High schools kept old yearbooks, didn’t they? Sure, they did. I was at the school in fifteen minutes. School was in session and the halls were packed with low-riding jeans and badly done makeup. In the office were the same secretaries that my school had. Where did they find these women? I never saw them on the street, wearing their double-knit trousers, flowered tops, and pin-curled grey hair. As usual, I got nowhere with them. School secretaries didn’t like me on sight. Maybe they could tell I skipped, forged my mother’s handwriting, and rarely did my homework. The principal was friendlier as a politician should be. He gave me free reign with the yearbooks, but I only needed one. 1995. I found Evan Sorbeck quickly. He was handsome, blond and in a ton of clubs. He played football, ran track, and was senior class president. I looked through the rest of the senior class and didn’t see the faux Evan. I started on the junior class and had thumbed through most of it when Lawrence Tisserling caught my eye. Add fifty pounds and it was Claire’s Evan. He was in no club or sports. He didn’t even give a quote.
I ran out to the parking lot and almost broke my neck on the ice. Once in the car, I removed the gravel from my palm and went home. I found cat and dog in the living room. Pick was on the floor, Skanky was on the sofa cleaning his ears and they were both watching CNN. I was pretty sure I didn’t leave the TV on. I could only hope that Pick hadn’t figured out the stove yet. Uncle Morty was back from his so-called vacation and I got him to nose his way into Tisserling’s life. The best he could come up with was an expired license and a couple of addresses in Reynolds County.
The next morning I was awakened by the animals watching the Today show. I fed them and gave Skanky a gentle boot in the butt for becoming so fond of a dog. I still couldn’t get ahold of Chuck. I needed to take a drive down and check out those addresses. I was afraid to leave Pick alone for that long. Mrs. Jackson was spending the day at the senior center. Pick’d already eaten all the tissues and pooped on the bath mat. I had to take him.