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Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery

Page 17

by Giacomo Giammatteo


  Or a girl kidnapped.

  He looked at his watch again, resisted the urge to go faster. About two miles later, he pulled into the corner store where he had gotten the phone to arrange that first meet with Boss. The guy inside must know something. Lonny parked by the dumpster and walked inside. He got in line behind two customers. The clerk was the same one as the day he got the phone. The same day he called Willard looking for work. He didn’t know if it was Willard who had hooked him up. The man had never said he was, and had even denied it. But if he wasn’t, how had that person known to call Lonny? And where did he get his number?

  It was Willard. I know it.

  The first customer left with a newspaper and cigarettes. The guy in front of Lonny got some milk and five Texas Lotto tickets. Good luck with that.

  Lonny looked at the skinny little prick behind the counter. Some damn foreigner probably come here to do no good. Lonny’s arms ached from wanting to hurt this man. He tensed, muscles taut.

  Lonny once lifted three bags of cement at the same time and carried them fifty yards. That was almost three hundred pounds. Breaking this little prick into pieces wouldn’t be half as hard.

  The man in front of Lonny left, leaving him standing at the counter with nothing in his hand. The clerk looked at him, eager to help. “Good morning, what can I get you?”

  He grabbed the clerk by the collar and yanked him forward. He slammed his head into the counter. The man yelled. His arm shot toward the back, reaching for something. Lonny tugged harder, pulling him over all the way over the counter. “Where’s Willard?”

  “Who?”

  He punched him in the gut. The man gasped, doubling over.

  “Where’s Willard. Tell me, or I’ll kill you. I swear.”

  The clerk took a few breaths then leaned against the counter, hands protecting his face. “I don’t know any Willard.”

  “I came here a few weeks ago asking about Willard. You told me to go to the dumpster and get a phone from a bag.”

  The clerk nodded. “I get calls sometimes. A man I don’t know tells me what to do and…and…”

  Lonny raised his fist. “And what?”

  “He buys my phones and pays me good money.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Lonny punched his face, twice.

  The man almost cried. “I swear I don’t know.”

  “How do you get the money?”

  “He leaves it in a bag under the dumpster.”

  Lonny grabbed him by the neck.

  “That’s all I know. I swear.”

  “And you don’t know anybody named Willard?”

  “I never heard the name Willard before you came in today.”

  Lonny kicked the counter. “Goddamn! Goddamnit.”

  He shoved the clerk back then walked in a small circle around the store, stopping in front of the clerk. He grabbed a pen from the counter and wrote his cell number on a piece of paper. “If you hear anything from this guy again, or think of any way to reach him, you call. I swear, if I find out different…”

  “I’ll call you. I will.”

  Lonny ran from the store, got in his truck and drove off. He looked at his watch—11:15. Not much time left. He stopped at another corner store he had visited the day he got the call, but that guy knew nothing either. Then he went to the spot where people waited for jobs in the morning. Rumors were that notices on the outside board sometimes directed people to get in touch with the mysterious Willard, but Lonny knew it was in code, and he didn’t know what the code was. He stopped anyway and asked questions of about ten guys who were waiting on work. Nobody knew anything.

  Lonny headed back to the Winthrop’s. He didn’t want to face Lucia or her questions. Or the detective and his suspicious looks. But he had nowhere else to go, and he was out of ideas.

  ***

  Connors followed Lonny back over the freeway, halfway to Scott’s house. When it was obvious where Lonny was going, he called Gino. “It’s me,” Connors said. “He’s on his way back now.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Nowhere, really—a corner store. Must have stayed in there five minutes or so.”

  “What did he buy?”

  “That’s just it—he didn’t buy anything, at least nothing he carried out. Guess he could have gotten cigarettes or lottery tickets or something like that, but he had nothing in his hands.”

  “That’s odd. What else?”

  “After that, he went to another corner store, but only stayed a few seconds. Nothing purchased there either. Then he went to a spot where day labor waits to get hired. He talked to everybody there, went inside, but again came out with nothing.”

  “After that?”

  “He’s on his way back. Pretty damn strange, if you ask me.”

  “Very damn strange. Go back to that first store and find out what he did in there. If they have video, ask to see it.”

  “But sir, we—”

  “I don’t give a shit about warrants. Tell whoever is running the place that we’ve got a kidnapping and need answers. Go, Connors. Go!”

  Chapter 34

  Uncle Eddy

  I hung up with Connors, more puzzled than when Lonny had left. What the hell is this man doing? His daughter was being held hostage and he was…what? Running around to corner stores? Why did he go? What did he do?

  I thought about asking Lucia again but decided against it. She would blindly support her husband no matter what. She didn’t see, or refused to see, his faults. She was a lot like Mary, who never saw my faults. She never complained or griped, even when we had no money.

  God, I miss her.

  Some nights I dreamed of cloning Mary. I’d bring her back just as she was. Wouldn’t change a thing. Not her lazy eye or the extra twenty pounds she always complained about.

  I was brought out of my contemplation by the thought of the Uncle Eddy reference. “Alexa!”

  “What?” She said as she stormed into the kitchen, Lucia right behind her. Alexa marched to the table, positioned herself with an attitude, and gave me her standard “What?” yet again.

  I let her sit for a few seconds. “Who’s Uncle Eddy?”

  She feigned an I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about look. It was good.

  I wanted to take her pretty little head and bash it into the granite countertop; instead, I asked again. “Who is Uncle Eddy?”

  “I already told you. I don’t know an Uncle Eddy. Who’s he supposed to be?” She’d answered too fast. All denial.

  Lucia stood close by, intently focused on Alexa.

  “Who is he, Alexa?” I asked, raising my voice. “Who is Uncle Eddy?”

  Lonny walked in the door right then. He looked at me then at Alexa. “What’s going on? Why are you asking her?”

  “Because she knows something.”

  “I told you.”

  I grabbed Alexa’s arm and dragged her to the other room. She seemed to be struck with that particular kind of fear common among teenagers—the kind they got when dealing with adults. In most cases, no matter how bad things were or how much trouble they’re got into, they wouldn’t open up to parents or any adult. I got as close as I could to her face and whispered.

  “Your best friend is in deep shit. If you care one fucking bit about her, you better tell me what you know.”

  She looked at the floor then shot a glance toward the Hacketts. “Not here. On the patio.”

  I took her outside and sat her down, forcing calm on myself before I continued. “Before you say anything, know that if you need this to be between the two of us, it will stay that way.”

  “Sure.” She said it with the same disgust and sarcasm I had heard from a hundred kids before.

  “This is no shit. If I say it stays between us, it does. But I’m telling you now that you’ll have to handle the Hacketts on your own. If they ask me, I’ll tell them to ask you.”

  She lifted her head and sighed. “There is no Uncle Eddy.�
��

  If I could have hit the girl I would have. “Alexa—”

  “No. I mean there really isn’t an Uncle Eddy, but I know what she means by it.”

  My blood pumped. “What? Come on. Jada needs this.”

  “If my dad finds out…”

  “He won’t unless you tell him.” I wanted to say more but felt that silence would work better. It took almost a full minute.

  “If the Hacketts are going to find out anyway, I might as well tell you all at once. I don’t want to do this twice.” She got up and walked inside.

  When we got to the kitchen, Lonny pulled me aside. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll let Alexa tell us.”

  She stared at the floor and spoke quietly. “Uncle Eddy is not a man. It’s our code for a motel.”

  I listened. Lonny started to say something, but Lucia’s hand on his arm stopped him.

  “What do you mean, it’s for a motel?” I asked.

  Her head lowered even more. She wouldn’t look at Lonny or Lucia. “It started when one of our friends said the guy at one of the motels looked like her uncle Eddy. After that, whenever we wanted to go fool around with our boyfriends or something, we’d say, let’s go to Uncle Eddy’s. Or if we wanted to leave a message on a phone, or send an email or text, we’d say I’m going to Uncle Eddy’s. Wanna go?”

  “Are you telling me Jada is—”

  Lucia turned Lonny around to face her. “Does it matter what she did or didn’t do right now? We got a lot more to worry about than that girl having sex.”

  He shook his head.

  Lucia went to Alexa and wrapped her arms around her. “Thank you, Alexa. You did right.”

  I kissed Alexa on the head. “That took courage. I like to see guts in a young person. Thanks. And Alexa, I’m going to need you to give Detective Delgado details on the motels.”

  She lifted her head. “Don’t worry about not telling Dad. I’ll tell him myself.”

  I went back and kissed her head again. “That’s even more guts. If you ever want help, let me know.”

  Chapter 35

  Now’s the Time

  Mars found Alexa sitting outside. She looked as if she needed a friend. He crossed the patio and offered her a smoke. She looked up at him, shocked. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “I hardly ever do. Once in a while on weekends or if I’m out with the guys.”

  She took the cigarette and the light he offered. “Is this all you smoke?”

  “I take a hit now and then.”

  “So what’s up? You didn’t come out here to give me a smoke.”

  “You looked like you needed something. This was all I had.”

  She laughed. “I’m screwed. Dad’s gonna find out about everything, including the motels.”

  Mars sat on the ground next to her. “You’re not half as screwed as Jada.”

  Alexa looked at Mars. “You blame me, don’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  She gave a sarcastic laugh. “That didn’t take much thought. Your parents probably hate me. And the detectives…”

  “Alexa, this isn’t about you. Stop trying to be a goddamn martyr and think about Jada.” Mars got up and started for the house. “I came out here to make you feel better, but all you did was piss me off.”

  “Mars, wait.”

  ***

  Delgado watched the scene on the patio from the kitchen window. From the look on Alexa’s face, he figured the time might be right to get her talking. He grabbed two bottled waters and headed out.

  “Hey, Alexa. Brought you some water. Hot today.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He handed it to her and pulled a chair alongside hers. “Gino said you could fill me in on the motels you kids frequented.”

  “‘Frequented?” She looked at Delgado and shook her head. “We’re not whores. We’re kids having fun.”

  Delgado resisted the urge to laugh, recalling some of those same fun times. “I didn’t intend for it to come out that way. I used to do the same thing when I was your age. We couldn’t afford motels, but somebody always had a car, or somebody’s parents were away for the weekend. A night would do.”

  Her first smile appeared. “Even a few hours.”

  Delgado sipped his water. “I won’t tell you about the time I was at my girlfriend’s house and we thought her father was asleep.”

  Alexa laughed. “Uh-oh.”

  “It was worse than ‘uh-oh,’ señorita. I had to leave through the window.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I swear. It’s bad enough getting caught by any girl’s father, but when she’s Mexican…”

  Alexa smiled again. Delgado let the comfort level build then lowered his voice. “Alexa, where did you go most of the time? Any particular motel?”

  “We went to a lot of them. It depended on how busy they were. We didn’t like to go around here, in case our parents spotted our cars. You know, like what is Alexa’s car doing at the motel?”

  “So where did you go?”

  “Everywhere, depending on who was with us. Up to Conroe, down to 1960. Even further down 45.”

  Delgado took notes. “How far down?”

  She thought for a moment. “One time all the way by Beltway 8. I don’t think ever farther than that.”

  “So there wasn’t any specific place you referred to as Uncle Eddy’s?”

  “No, it just meant any motel.”

  “And were they just motels, or did you stay at hotels too?”

  “Never hotels. They cost more, and we were afraid we’d see some of our parents. Who knows, some of them could have been doing the same thing, only with other parents.”

  Delgado continued taking notes, but inside he smiled. This was no dumb kid. “Now that would have been embarrassing.”

  Alexa was silent for a moment then, “That other cop hates me, doesn’t he?”

  “Gino? He doesn’t hate you.”

  “He acts like it.”

  “You just have to understand Gino, that’s all.”

  “I understand him, all right. He hates kids.”

  Delgado looked at her. He lost his smile. “Let me tell you about Gino Cataldi. He loves kids more than anything. Too much, maybe. That’s why he’s so tough on them. His boy almost died from drugs. He’s out of a rehab now, but every day, Cataldi wonders if today will be the day he gets the call. Every night he puts his phone by the bed and turns up the ringer so he won’t miss the call he hopes will never come.” Delgado sipped his water and looked at her but didn’t wait for her to respond. “Listen, Alexa, I’d like to talk, but we need to find Jada before time runs out.”

  She looked up at Delgado, real concern on her face. “You think she’ll be okay?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  ***

  Lonny paced across the living room floor. “I can’t believe our girl would do that. She—”

  Lucia sat in the chair shaking her head. “Listen to yourself. She’s seventeen. That’s the same age I was on our prom night.” She got up and walked to him, made him stop and look at her. “Do you remember that night? And where we stayed?”

  “That was different.”

  “Different? Why? Did you call me the things you’re thinking about her?”

  “Lucia, don’t go doing that. Don’t be putting thoughts in my head that aren’t there.”

  She huffed herself up. “I’m not putting thoughts in that thick head of yours. I’m just trying to show you how wrong your thinking is.” Lucia took her seat again. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but she’s seventeen, for God’s sake.”

  Lonny came and sat next to her. “I guess you’re right, baby.”

  “Again.”

  He laughed. “Yes, again. As long as we get her home safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Lucia reached over and patted his hand. “When she’s here, I’m gonna remember you said that.” She sat back in her chair. “Just in case you try to bring up othe
r things, that is.”

  Lonny laughed some more. “Woman, I love you.”

  “Of course you do. I knew that the first time you begged me to dance.”

  “Me beggin’ you? If I remember correctly, it was you admiring my moves that got this whole thing started.”

  “Huh. This whole thing got started because you were tripping over your feet watching me as you danced—or tried dancing.”

  Lonny laughed even harder at that, and then he leaned forward and kissed Lucia. “I truly do love you. Just like the night we met.”

  “She’ll be all right. I know it,” Lucia said, and then she held his face and kissed him.

  He started crying. He got up, tried hiding it, but she caught him and set him down.

  “What’s going on?” Lucia said. “Talk to me.”

  “Nothing. Just…”

  “I’m listening.”

  He took her hands and held them, stared into her deep brown eyes. “Suppose I could trade places. Suppose we could get Jada back in exchange for me.”

  She laughed. “What would they want with an old out-of-work bricklayer? I sure don’t have money for ransom.”

  “I know, just…well, suppose it could work. Would you do it?”

  “Stop talking nonsense. We don’t have time for things like that. If you want to do something good, go into that kitchen and listen to what they got planned. Maybe you can contribute something—an idea, or suggestion. Ain’t like we got a bunch of expert kidnap rescue men out there. They’re just cops. Most of them are used to lots of things, but I don’t imagine kidnapping is one of them.”

  Lonny nodded and got up. “You’re right. I know what I’m going to do now.” He walked into the kitchen, determined to make a difference. One way or the other, this is how the situation would play out. What was the worst the cops could do to him—put him away for a few years? His family would survive. Somehow.

  Now’s the time.

 

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