“I can close the gate if you’d like to let your dog out to play with Charlie. He loves other dogs.” The man said.
“That would be mighty fine. Louie has been cooped up for more than an hour. I’m sure he’d love to run some.”
The man walked over and pushed the gate closed. Charlie stayed at his heels until JP opened the door of the truck and let Louie out. Charlie was there to meet him in three leaps and off they ran around the yard.
“Sorry about all that. May I help you?” the woman asked.
“Are you Mr. and Mrs. Washington?”
“Yes,” the man said, reaching out his hand to shake. “My name is Carter. This is my wife Ellie.”
JP reciprocated. “I’m JP Torn.” Carter stood at least six inches taller than JP and his hand made JP’s feel like a child’s when he shook it. “I’m an investigator and I’d like to ask you a few questions about something that happened about ten years ago.”
Carter looked a little concerned but Ellie said, “Come sit and I’ll get us some ice tea.”
She directed him and Carter toward the picnic table and she went inside the house. JP and Carter talked about the weather and local sports until she returned. JP felt like he was back in Texas with the southern hospitality he was receiving from these kind people. He had never quite gotten used to the fast-paced, paranoid lifestyle Californians lived. He wasn’t sure if it was California or just a large city thing, and he knew there was plenty of reason to be paranoid when a stranger came into your yard, so he understood it but he didn’t like it much.
Ellie set three large glasses of ice tea on the table and sat down next to her husband.
“Thank you,” JP said and took a drink of the tea. He smiled at her. “It has a taste of mint, like my grandma used to make.”
“I knew you were a southern boy the minute I saw you,” Ellie said.
“I hate to bring this up, but there’s no easy way to say it. I’m investigating a case that has turned up a man named Warren Smithe.”
Ellie’s facial expression didn’t change. It was as if she expected to hear his name, but Carter’s gentle eyes suddenly showed hatred in them. Ellie reached over and put her hand on her his.
“Has he hurt someone else?” Carter asked.
“We think so.”
Carter slammed his fist on the table. Charlie barked and ran over to the table with Louie close behind. “I should’ve killed that son of a bitch when I had the chance.”
“And let Andre and the girls grow up without a father? You know how that boy needed you and the girls did, too,” Ellie said and then turned to face JP. “It hasn’t been easy for this family dealing with the pain that man left us, but we’ve managed. I never could’ve done it without Carter, though.” She looked up at him in pure admiration. “We moved to California and he found a real good union job. All three children graduated from high school and the two girls even went to college, one to community college and the other to the university. The oldest became a hairstylist and our second earned her nursing degree. She works at a hospital in Los Angeles. We even own our home. It still needs a little work, but it’s much better than that shack we had in Alabama. Carter and Andre did a lot of work on the house, especially when we first moved in. They painted inside and out and remodeled the kitchen and bathrooms and even added that room over there.” She pointed toward the side of the house where the dogs were now playing again. “Andre loved to help his daddy.”
Ellie’s voice cracked a little every time she said Andre’s name. JP wondered if it was because he had brought up the painful memories or if it was something else. She kept talking as if she were afraid to let JP speak. Perhaps she was afraid he might say something that would set Carter off, so JP just listened.
A sound came from the room near the picnic table. Ellie said, “Carter, I hear the baby. Will you please check on him?”
Carter stood up and walked into the house without saying a word.
Ellie spoke softly. “Please don’t tell Carter that Smithe’s living here. I’m afraid of what he might do.”
“You’ve seen him?”
“Yes, about two years ago. I was at a nursery in Fallbrook. He didn’t recognize me, but I knew it was him the minute I saw him. I wanted to scratch his eyes out and beat him with my fists, but instead I just got into my car and drove off. I was so upset I nearly had an accident pulling out of the lot. I wanted to come home and tell Carter but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell anyone. I haven’t been back to Fallbrook since and I’ve made darn sure Carter hasn’t gone, either.”
“You’re right. He’s been living in Fallbrook for quite a while. I wondered if he followed you out here, but if he hasn’t tried to contact you then it’s probably just coincidence. You’re sure he never tried to get hold of Andre?”
“I’m certain of that,” she said emphatically. “What has that devil done this time? Please don’t tell me he’s working with children again.”
“No. He works at the Mercedes-Benz dealership in Fallbrook.” JP thought it was best she knew so she could avoid him. “We think he’s after young boys and he may even have killed a man. We’re still investigating, though, so we can’t be sure. But if he has done the things we think he has, I promise you I’m going to get him one way or another and send him to prison where he can spend the next twenty years as some big, mean felon’s play toy.”
A faint smile crossed her lips that lasted only a split second. It was the first time he saw anything positive on her face since he had brought up Smithe. “I’d like to think he’ll pay for his sins in this world, that he’ll suffer like my boy did. I suppose that’s not a very Christian thing to say, but I can’t help it. I do believe the good Lord will make him pay in the hereafter for what he did to my Andre.”
“I really don’t want any more children to have to endure what your son did. Do you think I could speak to Andre or would it be too painful for him?”
“Oh, Lord. I wish you could. I’m afraid my son….”
Ellie’s face looked tired and very distant, and her eyes filled with sadness until Carter walked out carrying a little boy about two years old and interrupted her. The little boy smiled a huge smile when he spotted Ellie. “Momo,” he yelled.
Ellie reached out her arms to the little boy, hugging him closely. The child wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. She kissed him on his cheek. “This is little Andre, my grandson.”
“Hi, Andre,” JP said. Andre reached across the table, grabbed JP’s hat, and nearly knocked it off his head before Ellie could pull him back. JP sat up straighter, taking the hat out of the baby’s range. When Charlie and Louie ran past the table, little Andre lost all interest in JP’s hat.
“Chawee,” Andre called, squirming to get down.
Ellie handed him back to Carter. “Here, take him to see Charlie.”
“Watch Louie,” JP said. “He won’t hurt him intentionally, but he’s still a puppy so he may be a little rough.”
Carter nodded, scooped up Andre in his big hands, and flew him like an airplane up and into his arms. Andre giggled as they crossed the yard toward the dogs.
“You were saying about Andre?” JP said.
“Andre had a hard time growing up. He was a sweet, gentle boy, but it always seemed like he was trying to prove how tough he was. He never got into drugs or gangs or anything, but he made sure no one thought he was a ‘sissy’ either. We made him go to counseling for a while, but he never would talk about what happened to him in Alabama, and I know that’s what was really bothering him. He joined the Marine Corps right out of high school. He looked so handsome in his uniform. We were so proud of him.” Her voice started to crack and her eyes filled with tears.
JP was afraid to ask, so he just sat there waiting for her to compose herself and finish if she could.
Ellie took a deep breath. “A year ago last February he was sent to Afghanistan. Two weeks later he was killed in the line of duty.”
Chapter 33
I
t had been over a week since Sabre and Bob had gone to Pho’s for lunch, and Sabre felt like she was going through withdrawal. Seldom a week went by without at least three visits to their favorite Vietnamese restaurant. Sometimes JP joined them, sometimes not. He didn’t much care where he ate but often went with them since it was one of the few times to talk about their cases without constant interruption. Today was one of those days.
Prior to their meal being served they had discussed the possible suspects in the Foreman murder, being careful not to reveal any confidential information from Marcus in front of Bob. They were all trying to solve the criminal case in order to eliminate Bob as a suspect and to that end they were all working together.
“Foreman’s funeral is tomorrow,” Sabre said. “Are you going?”
“I am,” JP said. “I want to see who shows up and watch everyone to see how they act. You can learn a lot at funerals.”
“I’m not going,” Bob replied. “Leahy strongly suggested that I not go. He’s afraid it will appear as if I’m there for Dana. I didn’t want to go anyway. I didn’t even like the guy. Besides, why should I go to his funeral? I’m pretty sure he won’t be going to mine.”
JP chuckled. Sabre said, “You’re a fruitcake. Let the dead guy rest in peace.”
“I hope he’s turning over in his grave,” Bob said. “He was a jerk. I feel bad for the boys because they lost their father, but truthfully, they’re probably better off without them.”
“Well, I’m going,” Sabre said. “I want to be there for Marcus and Riley. Marcus was released from the hospital today and he’s decided he wants to go. So I’m going, too.”
“Do you want a ride?” JP asked.
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
“Yeah,” Bob said. “You wouldn’t want to be seen at a funeral without a date.”
Sabre and JP just shook their heads and finished eating their meals.
When JP left Pho’s he drove to the jail to see if he could talk to Sammy. He had already verified that he was in custody and apparently Ludwik didn’t feel it wise to bail him out. Either that or Sammy hadn’t bothered to contact him.
Sammy was under no obligation to speak with JP, but he took a chance and stopped in during visiting hours. After signing in and waiting for about twenty minutes, a guard brought Sammy into the room and seated him across from JP.
“Hello, Sammy.”
“I don’t need to talk to you, you know,” Sammy said.
“That’s right, you don’t. So, why are you here?”
“Curious, mostly. Besides, it’s a nice change of pace to get out of the cell and no one else has been here to see me.”
For a split second JP felt a little sorry for this lonely, pathetic soul. Then he remembered he had family whom he had alienated long ago—a nice family, in fact, or at least a loving, proud father who tried very hard to make the best life he could for his son. No, Sammy didn’t deserve JP’s sympathy. He endangered too many children’s lives.
“Did you expect someone to come see you?”
“Not really. I called my father, but he said I was on my own. My sister wouldn’t even accept the call, so I guess I can’t count on her.”
“I guess not,” JP said.
“I messed up pretty bad this time.”
“It’s not too late to clean yourself up and make things right with the people you care about. You could start by helping me find someone named Tuffy.”
“Tuffy, humph,” Sammy said. “I’m Tuffy.”
“You’re Tuffy?” JP looked at him, face wrinkled in disbelief.
“Sure. I’m Tuffy.”
JP chuckled. “I think my friends in the police department would love that bit of information. I know they’d love to get a scumbag like Tuffy off the streets.”
“Okay, so I’m not Tuffy. He tells his queens to say that if we’re caught. No one knows or sees Tuffy. He operates under the wire. Besides, why would I want to snitch on Tuffy?”
“Because he sells little children to pedophiles.”
“That’s not what he does. It’s all a scam. If the kids do what he says they get away most of the time.”
“Most of the time? And when they don’t?”
“That’s one of the casualties of the business.”
JP wanted to jump across the table and shake some sense in him, but since he couldn’t do that he tried another line of questioning.
“Do you think Tuffy killed Foreman?”
“Of course not. Why would he do that?”
“Because Tuffy found out that Foreman used his scam and cut him out of the profits.”
“Tuffy wouldn’t kill my friend George,” Sammy said, twitching in his seat.
Either Sammy had a connection with Tuffy or he was up to his usual storytelling. Even Marcus, an eleven-year-old kid, could see through Sammy’s stories. Perhaps this was just another one of his fantasies.
“So who is Tuffy?”
“No one knows,” Sammy repeated.
“Except you. Right?”
Sammy looked sheepishly at JP, as if he had been caught doing something highly secretive. “So, what if I do know him? I’m not about to help you. Tuffy would kill me.”
“Like he did George?”
“I’m telling you he didn’t kill George. He wouldn’t do that.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he knew what George was doing all along. He was alright with it as long as George just used his own kid and didn’t try to enlist any of the others.”
“I find that hard to believe,” JP baited him.
“It’s true. I used to run with Tuffy. In fact, it was my idea to pull those jobs in the first place. I’m the one who taught George. Me and Tuffy are like that, man.” Sammy crossed his middle finger over his index and displayed it for JP. “We’re tight. He was cool about George.”
“If you do know Tuffy, I might be able to help you out of this mess. I have a lot of connections with the police department and the DA’s office.”
“Can you get me out of here?”
“Maybe, but before I call in some markers I need to know that you’re telling me the truth.”
“For real, man. I knew Tuffy before he was Tuffy.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“It don’t matter none, ‘cause I ain’t telling you who he is unless we got a deal worked out, and a darned good one at that or I ain’t crossing Tuffy.”
“Fair enough. Don’t tell me who he is, but tell me this. How does he go about keeping anyone from knowing who he is?”
“He uses a queen bee.”
“What’s a queen bee?”
“That’s what Tuffy calls them. It’s the guy who keeps him separated from his drones, his worker bees. Tuffy is the beekeeper so the bees don’t really work for him. They only work for the queen. That way, the queen is the only one who knows Tuffy, and most of them don’t even know him. None of the drones ever see the beekeeper. Most of them don’t even know about him.” Then he said proudly. “I was his first queen. Tuffy said that since it was my idea I should have an active part.”
“But you don’t do it anymore?”
“Naw. It got too risky and I had to tend to my other business so I let Tuffy carry on alone.”
JP believed about half of what he heard from Sammy. Trying to sort out which was which was the difficult part. He thought after the last explanation that he probably did know Tuffy because he doubted Sammy could make up the whole “bee” analogy.
“How long has this operation been going on?” JP asked.
“A couple of years.”
“How many ‘drones’ does he have?”
“It depends on how good his queen is. I could handle three or four drones a night, but I don’t know what my replacement can do.”
JP wrote that off to more puffery. “Does he work the same ones every night?”
“He has a few that work more. If they’re good at getting away, they get more work. But you had to be carefu
l because we’d get a lot of repeat customers so the kids needed to be changed.”
“So he used the kids to steal money from pedophiles. Does he pull this scam every night?”
“No, mostly on weekends. In the summer there’s more weekday action. Lots of visitors to town and all.” Sammy looked at JP as if he had said enough. “So, can you get me out of here? Get my charges dismissed?”
“I’ll talk to my friends. I’m not sure I have enough, but I’ll see what I can do.” JP started to leave.
“Don’t take too long. I may change my mind.”
JP thought about his visit with Sammy’s father and how hard Ludwik had tried to do the right thing raising his kid, or so it seemed. He thought of Carter and Ellie and the pain they went through because of Andre’s problems and then losing him to the war. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be raising a child. Right now it didn’t seem like it was something he wanted to do.
Chapter 34
A small group gathered at the cemetery for George Foreman. It only included his wife and two children, Celia and Frank Davis, JP, Sabre, and Marla, the social worker on the case. Nearly half of the attendees were there because of the fallout from his death. That was not a good testimonial to his life. No church service of any kind was held and Dana insisted on a traditional burial as opposed to cremation. George had not wanted to be cremated. According to Dana, George always figured he would burn enough in hell; he didn’t need to add to it before he got there. The funeral director led the short, simple, impersonal service.
He began. “The loss of a loved one affects us all in different ways....”
Dana wept for her husband. Riley stared at the coffin but he didn’t cry. Marcus cried quietly. Everyone else remained solemn, but no tears accompanied their grief, if in fact they felt any. Sabre didn’t believe they did. The majority of the sorrow expressed was not for the body in the casket or even the grieving widow, but for the children because they lost their father.
“We need to accept the sorrow from our loss as a part of life,” the officiator continued. Sabre only half listened to his words. She wondered how a man lived forty years and had so few people mourn his death. She knew from what Marla had told her that George didn’t have much family. He and his half-sister were raised in foster homes. George hopped from one home to another and eventually lost track of his sibling. His mother spent most of her time in prison and his father was believed to be a prison guard, but it was never confirmed. That explained his family, but had he not been so difficult to get along with he would have developed closer friendships over the years. Sammy seemed to be the closest thing he had to a friend and perhaps he would’ve attended if he weren’t locked up himself.
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