All the Hidden Sins

Home > Mystery > All the Hidden Sins > Page 5
All the Hidden Sins Page 5

by Marian Lanouette


  She handed the twenty to Dina. After Dina left her office Kyra wrote down what she remembered about last night. As she counted up the numbers, her head began to swoon. A twenty—crap, pay day wasn’t until Friday. Less than that now, and today was Wednesday. She’d spent more than she’d planned last night. How was she going to take Trevor to his favorite restaurant tonight? She hated to do it, but she had to break her promise to him.

  Yanking her keyboard in front of her, she scrambled online and checked the balances in her new checking and savings accounts. Her stomach flipped—between the two accounts she had two hundred dollars to her name. Laying her head on the desk, she willed away the nausea. Freak, the rent on the condo’s due this week. With care she checked every deposit and withdrawal. Each one coincided with a night at the casino. Oh God, she did need help.

  If she got help, would it save her from having to pick one of the options Joe had presented to her yesterday? Dina returned with her lunch. Realizing her predicament, Kyra pushed her lunch aside, her appetite gone.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Ignore me. You know…divorce,” Kyra said, hoping that covered everything.

  “I know. How’d it go last night?”

  “Like crap.”

  “You didn’t like Jake?” She almost laughed at Dina’s expression.

  Walked into that one. She shifted gears. “No, sorry, my mind’s somewhere else. He’s fine, but he’s on the rebound and is still hung up on the woman.”

  “Yeah, I heard, but I didn’t believe.”

  “Well, he even used the ‘L’ word.”

  “No kidding? Well, it’s about time Jakey Boy’s on the receiving end. Are you going to see him again?”

  “We set up a dinner date for Friday. I’m not sure I’m going to keep it.” Kyra frowned. After Thursday night with Joe her life as she knew it ceased to exist.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m not comfortable dating. I’m not divorced yet.” The truth of the statement surprised her.

  “Tommy’s not going to change his mind, is he?”

  “No,” Kyra whispered.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, honey, let’s change the subject.”

  They finished their lunch in silence.

  * * * *

  Wednesday morning at the station, Jake wrote up his reports on various cases while he waited for Louie to get back. Louie was out following up on some leads pertaining to the Wolinski case. An hour later, Louie walked into his office. Jake pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Instead Louie walked to the coffee machine and helped himself.

  “How’d it go after I left the scene?”

  “As you’d expect. Lang agrees the blow to the back of the head was the cause of death and it didn’t happen when he fell. What party were you attending on a Tuesday night?”

  Leave it to Louie to mix business and gossip. “I was at Dina’s. Then I wasn’t.” He didn’t want to tell Louie about Kyra yet. “I want to compare our notes. Did you get an ID on the kid?”

  “Yeah, his name’s Donald Kolinski, age twenty-seven. I notified his parents last night. They almost seemed relieved.”

  “Kolinski looked about forty, twenty-seven, huh?”

  “Yep, heroin will do that to you. Also, Lang said he’d call with the preliminary this morning. Who was on last night?”

  “Lieutenant Holmes overseeing the calls. Also Kraus and Burke were on covering Homicide. There seems to have been a rash of deaths last night, a lot from tainted heroin. Then they got the usual—violence, domestics and one or two natural deaths. The night shift was hopping.” Jake handed Louie his notes and sketches from the scene.

  “Better them than us. Okay, back to Kolinski. He’s a small-time dealer who uses Danny Wallace as his supplier. And Danny was last seen with him. Wallace has a record as long as my arm for dealing, theft, and mischief, no charges or history of violence, but word on the street is he’s now working with either Spike or the local mob.”

  “He’s stepping down in the world. Let’s start with him.”

  “No one knows his whereabouts. I put word out on the street that I’m looking for him. I’ll do follow-ups when I locate him,” Louie said, turning to leave his office. “Hopefully, he’ll lead us to Spike, and close that case.”

  Spike was still wanted for the killing of nineteen-year-old, Xavier Orlando. The poor kid was shot through his door when Spike went looking for someone who had stiffed him on a drug deal.

  “We ever find out his real identity?”

  “No. Spike turned up one day and took over the trade with force. Vice hasn’t been able to get his fingerprints. No one knows where he came from.”

  “Did Spike kill the kid for stepping on his territory?” Jake asked.

  “It’s one of the things I’ll be looking in to,” Louie said as he left.

  * * * *

  Around three o’clock, Kyra forced herself to give her mother a call. She wanted to speak with her son. Not up to the grilling, Kyra hesitated before she pressed in the numbers for her mother. Suck it up, Kyra, you’re going to have to listen to it now or later. Better to get it over with. She banged in their number.

  Sean and Margo Hannigan, otherwise known as her parents, had cut her off when they found out about the gambling. Each one had pulled her aside and told her they’d give her the money for the lawyer if she’d get help and promise not to set foot into the casino again, but she was unable to comply. Didn’t want to comply, she corrected.

  Her mother picked up the phone on the third ring, out of breath. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I was outside when the phone rang. I forgot to take the portable with me.”

  “Mom, Dad tells you all the time to take it with you. What if something happened or you needed to call for help?” Kyra lectured.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m running behind at work. Can you put Trevor on?”

  “The bus hasn’t come yet.”

  Kyra didn’t respond.

  “Are you there, dear?”

  “Yes, Mom, have Trevor call me at work when the bus drops him off.”

  “I will. Kyra, how are you doing?”

  She heard the concern in her mother’s voice. Ignore it. If she cared she’d help you out. “I’m fine.”

  “You haven’t been over since our conversation. We miss you.”

  “I don’t want to do this now. I’m at work.”

  “We still love you. It’s for your own good.”

  “Yeah, right. I have to go, make sure he calls me.” She disconnected the call before her mother replied.

  * * * *

  Wednesday got away from Jake. A visit to Saul Church’s elderly mother took longer than he had planned on. One that Detective Stack should’ve done at the beginning of the investigation. Saul Church no matter what, always called his mother. Since she hadn’t heard from him in a couple of weeks she was convinced her son was dead. He owed the wrong people money since she had cut him off without a dime.

  “Mrs. Church, do you know who these people are?” Jake handed over some pictures of mob associates, including Phil Lucci’s twenty-year-old one.

  After a careful study, she laid the pictures on her lap. “No, Saul never said, but the last three weeks before he disappeared, he was jittery and short tempered.”

  “Where did he gamble?”

  “Wherever he found a poker game. He’s a good son, Lieutenant, but the gambling took over his life. He lost all sense of decency. He stole from me, from his aunts, he even stole from his kids. His ex-wife blames me for pampering him.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t take off to avoid the people he owes?” Jake asked.

  “I’m sure. His landlord gave him two weeks to come up with the money or he’d be evicted. Saul asked me if mind
ed if he stayed here until he got back on his feet.” Mrs. Church wiped at her eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. “It will be my fault if they killed him.”

  “No it won’t, Mrs. Church. Saul was a grown man who put himself in this situation, not you.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Lieutenant, but it doesn’t help. I love him. And if you find him alive, I’ll bail him out again.”

  Of that, Jake had no doubt. He stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

  He left Saul’s mother to her guilt.

  Jake struck out with Saul Church’s friends. They refused to meet or talk to him. He checked his watch. Damn, time moved at the speed of lightning.

  * * * *

  After work, Kyra went home, fixed dinner, but still had no appetite. Looking down at the food, she picked it up and dumped it in the garbage. Minutes later, food forgotten she surfed the channels on the television. The casino called to her like a scorned lover. Damn, the need to be there clawed at her. She got antsy if she didn’t go. Spikes jabbed her brain as she paced her condo. She still hadn’t decided what answer she’d give Joe tomorrow. The choices he’d given her made her want to throw up. She wasn’t a hooker, for God’s sake. Doing the disgusting, sloppy, fat guy was out of the question.

  Burn a dead body? Trevor became her reason to accept the offer. Money equaled custody of Trevor. And for God’s sake, that’s what I do for a living anyhow.

  Trevor didn’t call after school. That was her mother’s way of getting back at her for hanging up on her. Boy, that burned her ass. Kyra needed to talk to Trevor. He was the one good, pure person in her life—she couldn’t lose him. After dialing Tommy’s number, she got his voicemail. She left a message for Trevor to call her back.

  What was the crime if she burned a dead body? Seriously, she’d have to look up the penalty for doing that. A hundred thousand dollars and no debt. She’d make sure she and Trev had a great life far away from all of them.

  Decision made. Problem solved.

  Kyra went to the liquor cabinet, took out the bottle of vodka, and poured some into a glass to reinforce her decision. She took shot after shot until she passed out.

  The buzzer on her alarm went off eight hours later. Stumbling out of bed, she made it to the bathroom, dropped to her knees and threw up. Ten minutes after nothing but the dry heaves, she stood with the help of the counter for support. The taste of the mouthwash upset her stomach more.

  The woman looking back at her in the mirror frightened her. Not recognizing herself, she examined the dark circles under her eyes that had appeared there this week—not a flattering addition. Her skin, paler than usual, almost translucent, emphasized a bleakness in her eyes she didn’t recognize, which completed the transformation. Desperate and sick, she needed to pull it together to get through today. The pounding in her head didn’t help—it grew louder with each movement. Her cell phone flashed missed call as she walked back into the room. She plucked the phone off the nightstand and listened to the voice message.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Kyra? Trevor waited all night for you to show up.” Tom shouted into her ear. Oh God, she’d forgotten all about taking Trevor to the restaurant. What kind of mother was she?

  All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed, and die. She’d make it up to him this weekend. And damn, she had to attend the board meeting scheduled for ten this morning. She’d lose her job if she didn’t. Kyra willed her limbs to move to the bathroom.

  After turning the faucets to the hottest point she jumped into the shower and exhaled. Oh, how she wished she didn’t have any place to go tonight.

  It took her almost an hour to get dressed, to look presentable. She put on her red suit, which showcased a little cleavage—the rounded tops of her breasts. She hoped the distraction kept the boys busy during the meeting. With her antacids in hand, she left her condo at nine thirty.

  * * * *

  Louie didn’t like what he was hearing. The deeper he dug into Donald Kolinski’s life the more depressed he got. Kolinski was a stock broker who hit it big on a few IPOs. To celebrate, he’d started partying with the other brokers. Wine, drugs and women. The more he made for himself and the company the more he partied.

  “My son, Sergeant, got caught up in it all. We’re not rich people. When he hit on that first IPO he found himself a millionaire overnight. Everyone wanted a piece of him. His boss gave him a twenty-five percent bonus and expected him to do again. I saw the pressure building. He’d become nervous and agitated. When he hit on the second IPO, the company celebrated him as the new golden boy. The owner even brought him an expensive sports car.” Mrs. Kolinski stopped and stared down at the picture on the end table of her son standing in the trade room at the NY Stock Exchange with his thumb up. “The partying got worse. He’d miss work. And the money started to disappear. At first it looked like he was spending it on the women he was dating, but I found out it was drugs.”

  “What did you do about it?” Louie asked.

  “When he made his first million, he put me on his accounts. After learning of his drug use, I checked the balances in his checking and savings accounts. I was astounded. He’d gone through two million dollars. Two million dollars, Sergeant, up his nose to escape his success. I immediately withdrew three million and put it into a CD that doesn’t mature for eight years. I hoped that would bring him to his senses.” Mrs. Kolinski’s voice hitched. “It didn’t. He accused me of stealing from him. Said I was no better than his boss. Three weeks later he was fired. With no money, he put his condo in the city up for sale and came home. It’s been a downward spiral since.” Mrs. Kolinski seemed wiped out.

  “Do you have other children?” Louie asked.

  “No, Don was our only one. I blame myself…”

  “Karin, stop that. Don did this to himself.”

  Mrs. Kolinski took her husband’s hand.

  “If the two of you think of anything else that might help us, please give me a call,” Louie said as he stood. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “We lost him a long time ago, Sergeant,” Mrs. Kolinski said, as she wiped her eyes with the tissue she had crumpled in her hand.

  * * * *

  Thursday, Jake’s intention to call Kyra lay by the wayside. Tonight was out of the question but he should still call and confirm tomorrow night’s dinner date. Everything he’d read about her on Tuesday night intrigued him. Were the nerves he’d gleaned from her the result of the battle she had with her ex for custody?

  He pulled her number out of his pocket and pressed it into his phone.

  “What?” she barked.

  “Is this a bad time, Kyra?”

  “Sorry, bad day.”

  “You have a lot of them.”

  The woman was a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Call him crazy but the type intrigued him.

  “No, it’s your bad luck you happen to be there on the bad ones.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “You’re cutting out. Are you driving?”

  “Yes, I need to pull over. Hold on.”

  Jake waited. He heard the engine quiet as it idled.

  “You still there?” she said.

  “Yes. I can call back when you get home.”

  “I’m out for the evening with friends.”

  He wondered if she was on her way to the casino. Gamblers were liars. Was she one? “I’m calling to see if we’re still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, that sounds good.”

  “You like steak or fish?”

  “Steak is good.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven? Why don’t you give me your address?” He knew it from his research, but decided not to let her know he’d looked her up.

  “It’s Unit 5, at the Laredo condos off of Meriden Road. I’ll be ready.”

  “You sure everything’s okay?” She sounded distracted. Was she with
her ex?

  “I have a headache.”

  “Big night?”

  “Yeah, I had a pity party last night, got drunk by myself, and paid for it all day today.”

  “Been there, done that,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  He hung up. Why was he pursuing her? Kyra wasn’t encouraging his attentions and she wasn’t divorced yet. The woman seemed to have more problems than he did. Why tangle himself up like that? God only knows. But something about her pulled at him. People made mistakes, good people. Jake considered himself an excellent judge of character. It was his nature to poke at something until he got to the source of a problem.

  Chapter 6

  Joe Dillon stood by the entrance connecting the casino to the garage as he waited for Kyra. Thirty-five minutes late. He wondered if she’d show. He took his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his brow. Nervous as a bride on her wedding night, Joe hoped Kyra had made the right decision. They didn’t care about the Whale or his needs. They needed her to dispose of Church’s body. The bastard had turned state’s evidence on his boss instead of paying off his debt—not a smart thing to do if a person wanted to live. Now he was frozen in someone’s garage while they figured out what to do with him. It also meant a huge bonus for Joe if he pulled this off.

  Phil had summoned him to his office on another matter when he’d overheard Phil speaking on the phone with his lieutenant about the mess Church had caused. It was then he got his nerve to speak up and put Kyra in the mix. He’d never tell her it was he who had thrown her to the wolves. If she picked the fat slob, he’d lose all respect for her. Kyra had it right the other day when she questioned him about picking Garcia. They’d given her a choice, though, she understood it was for show. A semblance that she was in control. She had better select the one they wanted her to. It didn’t matter, either way she’d take care of their body. If she chose right she’d walk away with some money, if not…well, he’d leave the what-if up to Lucci.

  Since the day he became her host he’d been intrigued by her job. Who accepted a position where they burned bodies for a living? He’d never understood undertakers either.

 

‹ Prev