by Al Boudreau
“Go ahead and plug it in. But let’s think about this a little more before we start opening files. I don’t want to give Iacona a reason to feel he can’t trust us.”
Sarah stood up. “Okee-dokee.” Which was usually code for I don’t agree, but we’ll do it your way. She set the computer up to begin charging then headed toward the refrigerator. I was about to ask if I was going to get my home-cooked breakfast after all but decided to keep my mouth shut.
No such luck. She pulled out a single serving container of yogurt. It was official. I’d be fending for myself this morning.
“We’re planning on speaking with our clients again today, right?” Sarah asked.
“Definitely,” I replied. “Nelda told us to head to their place whenever we’re ready.”
“Good. Where do they live?”
“Bellingham,” I said. “Don’t have an actual address yet. Figured we’d get it when we call them.”
Sarah nodded. “I’m curious about Ryan Iacona’s relationships with his peers. I was just thinking about how fortunate we’ve been with Brian. He’s always chummed around with good kids. I know a lot of parents who haven’t been so lucky.”
“So you’re thinking what? Maybe their kid got in with the wrong crowd?”
“Crossed my mind,” Sarah said. “I remember you telling me once how the smallest, most seemingly insignificant detail can help solve a case.”
“I said that?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Almost verbatim.”
“Sounds too logical to have come from my lips,” I said as I pushed my chair back. “I must have been having a really lucid day.”
Sarah’s expression softened as she went for the cabinet where we stored our pots and pans. I’d somehow managed to unlock the breakfast prize after all. She’d always appreciated my self-deprecating humor. Enough so, apparently, that my first meal of the day would now consist of something more than doughnuts from down the street.
“Go shave,” she commanded and pointed toward the stairs. “I’ll have breakfast on the table by the time you’re done.”
“Sounds great, thanks,” I said as I stood up. I was about to leave the kitchen when a thought occurred to me. I turned back toward Sarah and asked, “What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the term, ‘Momma’s boy?’”
Sarah set the carton of eggs she was holding on the counter, then leaned back against it. “Hmm … I don’t know. A wimp. A kid who can’t, or won’t, stand up for himself. That’s an odd question. Why do you ask?”
“Nelda said Jay has always been career oriented, emotionally unavailable, et-cetera, et-cetera. Which usually means the mother ends up having the kids with her most of the time. And they end up with a lack of male influence.”
“I’m with you so far,” Sarah said. “Are you trying to conjure some kind of theory concerning Ryan Iacona?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a theory. But what you said about kids getting in with the wrong crowd got me thinking. Nelda said Ryan seemed more independent once he got his driver’s license. And she made a comment about thinking it was probably normal behavior for a teenager, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, it might be a reach, but what if Ryan latched on to some guy who actually paid attention to him? Took a genuine interest in the boy. You know, like a makeshift father.”
“I think the term you’re looking for is surrogate,” she said.
“Yeah, OK, but you get my meaning, right?” I asked.
“Like maybe the wrong crowd isn’t a peer at all? He, or she, could be an adult?”
“Exactly,” I said, pointing at Sarah.
She started laughing.
“What?” I asked as I tossed my hands in the air.
“I dunno. The way you pointed at me was so over-the-top enthusiastic, for a second there I thought we were on a game show.”
I covered my eyes and shook my head.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m in no way trying to make light of any part of this investigation. Honestly, my heart is just sick over what’s happening to the Iaconas. Guess laughter is my way of coping. In all seriousness, I think your surrogate concept is an idea we should keep in mind going forward.”
“Right. On that note, I’m going to shave.”
Chapter 6
“Carter, Detective James is on the phone,” I heard Sarah call from the foot of the stairs.
“Just finishing up. Be there in a sec,” I shouted. I rinsed the random dollops of shaving cream from my face and headed downstairs.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” Sarah said as she handed me the phone. “You need to get some food in that stomach of yours. Come get it before it gets cold.”
“No worries there. I’m starving.” I took the phone in the living room. “Morning, Detective.”
“Hey, Carter. Listen, there’s a fella named Jesse Straitiff I spoke with at Cooper’s Beach Club Casino. Sarah said she didn’t recognize the name, but she told me you spent more time talking to Jay Iacona than she did. Straitiff’s name enter into any conversations you had with either of the Iaconas?”
“Nope. I would’ve remembered that name. Who is he? Someone the kid works with?”
“That’s right. The assistant manager. I went there specifically to talk to the manager, but the casino was all abuzz. Some crisis concerning a musical act that cancelled a show scheduled for this evening. Anyways, this Straitiff guy was real helpful. Worked on putting a list together for me, nearly a dozen names long. All of them are people Ryan Iacona has contact with on a regular basis.”
“So, we’re talking other employees of the casino?” I asked.
“All but one. Some of them are higher-ups. Others, just co-workers. Straitiff made some interesting comments about Ryan. He told me that not only is this kid the youngest person the casino has ever hired, he’s also the hardest working. Seems everyone thinks the world of him there. Not only that, but they just gave him a raise last week. Get this. Kid makes over fourteen bucks an hour now.”
“No kidding. Pretty impressive wage for someone who’s only sixteen,” I said. “You mentioned there’s one guy on the list who isn’t a member of the casino’s staff. What’s his story?”
James let go what sounded like nervous laughter on the other end. “Yeah, well, first off, he is a she. Straitiff claimed there’s a woman in her mid-thirties who comes in often. Referred to her as a regular. Said she hasn’t missed a Sunday in the place for many weeks in a row. Guess she lives somewhere between Cooper’s Beach and Boston. He wasn’t sure where. Anyways, he said, and I quote, ‘The woman is a knock-out.’ According to Straitiff—and again, these are his exact words—‘she’s taken quite a shine to our boy.’”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“That’s what we need to find out. Woman’s name is Shauna Eastman. Supposedly an heir to some big family fortune. One of two children in line to get a massive sum of money. Which is a good thing for her because she spends a lot of cash at the casino. Their best customer, Straitiff claims. Said she always asks for the Iacona kid whenever she’s in there. Has him serve her food, change her money. Basically, anything and everything she can think of to keep him in her orbit. I guess management had a problem with it at first. Till she threatened to take her business elsewhere, that is. Now they basically tell the kid to keep her happy. Like it’s part of his job description.” James let go some good hearty laughter.
“Unreal. Well, guess we’d better make talking to her a priority, huh?”
“Most definitely. I was hoping Sarah might be up for the task,” James said.
“You know she will be. Do you suppose Ryan’s parents are aware of him drawing the attentions of an older woman?” I asked.
“Doubtful,” James replied. “Probably not the kind of thing a sixteen-year-old kid is going to run home and tell his folks.”
I laughed. “Good point.”
“It’s funny, though. Straitiff said he didn’t get the imp
ression there was anything untoward going on. When I asked him to elaborate, he said he didn’t think it was about sex. Said it seemed more like Eastman was treating the kid as if he were a son.”
“One man’s opinion,” I said. “What do you make of it?”
“Well, not having met this woman, or witnessed any kind of interaction between them, I’d be hard-pressed to say. But my gut tells me it’s more than a little strange. There are more female sexual predators out there than people tend to believe. You know how it goes. Once you’ve been a cop for a while . . .”
“Yep. Tough to give people the benefit of the doubt. At any rate, Sarah will give us her honest opinion once she’s had some interaction with this woman.”
“Listen, Carter, seeing how you and Sarah are getting paid to work the Iacona case anyway, could I give you some names from this list to run down?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, buddy. I’ll email you the names and addresses of some individuals, and then I’ll run Ryan’s driver’s license and social. See if I get any hits.”
We hung up, and I hustled into the kitchen, as I’d seen Sarah giving me the evil eye for letting breakfast go cold.
“Don’t complain when you discover everything in front of you is lukewarm,” Sarah said, her own breakfast plate nearly empty.
“Sorry,” I said. “You won’t hear a peep out of me. You could serve me a scrambled egg Popsicle right now. I’d scarf it down, smile, and ask for another. I’m so hungry at this point, the temperature of my food is pretty low on the old list of priorities.”
“Well, good thing. That conversation you had with James lasted way longer than I’d anticipated,” Sarah said. “What did you find out about the case?”
“James asked for our help in running down a list of a dozen or so names. All of them people with close connections to Ryan Iacona through his job at Cooper’s Beach Club Casino.”
“One hand washes the other,” Sarah said. “I hope you told him we’d help.”
“Course I did. As luck would have it, there’s a special assignment in it for you.”
“Do tell.”
“Seems Cooper’s Beach Club Casino has a regular customer who’s loaded,” I said, “and requests Ryan Iacona’s services whenever she’s there. Maybe ‘demands’ is a better word.”
“She? How old?” Sarah asked.
“Mid-thirties.”
“What kind of services are we talking about here?” Sarah asked.
“That’s the basis of your assignment. To find out just what this woman’s deal is. James said the casino employee he spoke with didn’t believe there was anything sexual going on, but James wasn’t so sure. And if I’m being honest, neither am I.”
“Why not?” Sarah asked. “Could be the woman lost a son. Maybe Ryan Iacona reminds her of him.”
“Yep. Could be,” I said, trying hard not to smirk.
“Well, then, why would you jump to conclusions and convict this poor woman of being a child molester before getting all the facts first?”
“Aw, c’mon, Sarah. It’s not like that and you know it. We just need to be thorough.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “But don’t you think it’s a little premature … irresponsible, even, to make that kind of leap? Even if it’s just inside your head?”
“Point taken,” I said with a nod. “But try to see it from a cop’s perspective. Do we become jaded? Absolutely. Do we tend to see the worst in any given situation? At times. But here’s where you and I differ. Spending time on the streets, wearing a badge---especially in the city---you witness situations that are impossible to forget. Things you can never un-see. I’ve been on calls that changed my life in the darkest possible way. Eventually, every cop has these kind of encounters. You end up face-to-face with the worst of the worst. The truly ugly side of human nature. Sarah, once you’ve gone there, you don’t get the opportunity to simply opt-out. It taints you for the rest of your life.”
Sarah frowned. “I’m sorry you were ever exposed to such things. You’re a good man. And sometimes I forget all the ugliness you’ve seen. Sorry I jumped all over you like that. But you understand my side, too, right?”
“Of course. You know I do. Believe me when I tell you, I don’t want to approach life and times with a cynical eye. It’s tough sometimes, that’s all.”
“I want you to share more of your cop stories with me,” Sarah said. “I’d like to hear them.”
“You wouldn’t. And it wouldn’t be healthy for me to revisit those memories.” I turned away for a beat, then looked Sarah in the eyes. “Know what really helps me? You.”
“Aww, come here you old softy,” she said.
I gave her a hug. “I told James we could start running down that list of names after we meet with the Iaconas.”
“Sure. Just give me a minute to tidy up in the kitchen. Okay if I go like this?” she asked, motioning toward what she was wearing.
“You look fine,” I replied.
Sarah smiled. “Did James happen to tell you the name of the woman we were just talking about?”
“He did … uh … Eastwood, I think it was.”
“Are you sure it was Eastwood? Because there’s an Eastman clan in our area. They’re really wealthy.”
“Yep, that’s right. Eastman. James said she’s loaded. One of two heirs to a family fortune,” I replied.
“Ooh, now I’m really intrigued,” Sarah said as she picked up the pace tidying the kitchen, then disappeared.
I stayed put at the kitchen table, enjoying the last few sips of my coffee, when I heard Sarah call out my name.
“Have you checked out what this woman looks like?” she asked.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Oh my goodness, Carter, she’s drop-dead gorgeous.” Sarah held her tablet in front of me.
“Yep. Won’t argue with you on that one,” I said. “Actually, James said the assistant manager mentioned to him that she was a knockout.”
Sarah placed the tablet on the table. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“What for?” I asked.
“I need to get ready,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Wait … not five minutes ago you were all set with going to our meeting as-is.”
Sarah shook her head and skittered out of the room, her voice trailing off. “Yeah, well, that was before I discovered those pictures of Miss Universe.”
Chapter 7
I looked at the digital clock on the gas range: 9:45 a.m. Sarah disappeared from the kitchen to conduct her fifteen minute hair-and-makeup session over half an hour ago. I tossed the morning paper onto the table, rinsed my coffee cup in the sink, and headed upstairs to see what I could do to expedite things.
I only made it up the first three steps.
“Well? What do you think?” Sarah asked as she descended the stairs with the most exaggerated runway model moves I’d ever seen. It was working for her.
She. Looked. Hot.
“Uh, yep. I like the look. A lot.”
She nixed the theatrics and got herself down to the first floor quickly. She knew my impatient look by now. “Like what I’m wearing?”
I nodded. “Must be new. Don’t know that I’ve ever seen you in such a colorful outfit.”
“I had a little too much time on my hands while you were away, sooo … while I was healing from this darn gunshot wound, I may have done a little shopping.”
“Uh-oh,” I said. “When you use the term shopping it’s usually code for changing over your entire wardrobe.”
Sarah backhanded me across the shoulder. “You know I always try to be value conscious. I never buy anything unless it’s a great deal,” she said while running her hands down the sides of the cap sleeved summer dress, its multi-floral design and hot pink band and bow making her look like a million bucks.
“The term “value conscious” generally means something different to women than it does to men.” I got smart this time around and backed up ou
t of harm’s way. The look on Sarah’s face made me think I might truly have hurt her feelings. “In all seriousness, I get it. And you look beautiful. This Eastman woman is going to feel like she needs to go home and change her clothes when she gets an eyeful of you.”
“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Nah. It’s Sunday. And it’s a casino. Lots of people get dressed up to gamble,” I said. “Part of the fun.”
I must have said the right thing, because Sarah’s face lit up. “OK, good. So, how do we know this woman is going to be there today?”
“According to the assistant manager, this Eastman woman hasn’t missed a Sunday at the casino in several months. Like I said, she’s a regular.”
“What are you going to do while I’m chatting her up?” Sarah asked.
“I’ll stay within earshot. Thought I’d work on putting a game plan together for James’s list. And … maybe I’ll shoot some craps.”
Sarah shook her head. “You ready to go, Mr. High Roller?”
“Let’s do it.” I grabbed my phone, keys, and shades.
“Are you going to grab Iacona’s computer?” Sarah asked.
“Nah. Let’s leave it here for now,” I said. “I may change my mind about seeing what’s on it.”
“Ah, so the computer’s not part of your game plan yet,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
I wasn’t going to bite. “Speaking of game plans, what’s yours? How are you planning on broaching the subject of Ryan Iacona with Miss Moneybags?”
“Not sure yet, but I’m not about to overthink it,” Sarah said. “Sometimes winging it works best.”
“Your call. I’ve got to tell you, I’m very interested to find out what her angle is concerning this kid.”
“Maybe she’s not interested in Ryan Iacona at all,” Sarah said. “Maybe she’s interested in his father. He’s a good looking guy. And he’s a banker. You know what they say, money attracts money.”
“Your theory could be valid,” I said, “and it’s good to think outside the box. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen someone manipulate a kid to get to an adult. However … I still think she’s focused on the kid for other reasons.”