by K. J. Larsen
Her voice faltered. She saw the delicious piece of man meat, and her cheeks pinked.
“Max,” she breathed.
“Max is here to take you to the shooting range,” I said.
He tossed the contents of his glass down his throat.
“Wee!” Sophie squealed and threw her arms around him.
Max’s eyes flashed terror. He wriggled back but she was on him like white on rice.
Help! Max mouthed.
I blew him a kiss. “Fearless, Babe.”
***
The dogs licked their bowls clean and fell asleep by the fire. It was time to bring in reinforcements. I called my computer genius friend. My cousin’s fiancé is three hundred pounds of loveable.
Roger dispensed with the hellos. “Where’s Sam I Am?” he demanded. “Have you saved him yet?”
“Soon. I need a little help from my favorite geek.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not if we’re lucky.”
“I have a rabbit’s foot.”
“So we’re good?”
“Definitely. You introduced me to Ginny. I owe you.”
I laughed. “I’m here to collect. I found a dog that looks like Sam. We need to switch them.”
“You don’t think Bob will notice?”
“Not Bob. The kidnappers.”
“Okay. So you want me to help you grab Sam and leave a sacrificial lamb in his place.”
“That would be Thor.”
“It’s an inspired plan. Not for Thor, of course.”
“Thor will be fine. I promise I’ll get him out.”
“I’ll be there when you do.”
“Deal.”
Roger was quiet a moment. “You’re sure there’s no other way?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I was thinking about your crazy Cousin Frankie. He would happily put a couple rounds in these guys.”
“Plan B, Roger. Plan B.”
***
I dropped Thor off with Roger and told Inga she could have a sleepover at Mama’s. My night was looking uncertain at best. But Mama would feed her an outrageous number of sausages. Papa would give her his last bite of cream cake and she’d lick his dish clean. She’d sleep between them tonight and they would rub her tummy and sing the lullaby Nonna sang to me when I was a child. Grandparents are a hard act to follow.
Mama was on the phone when I let myself in the back door. Mama was baking for the annual school fundraiser and the heady essence of cinnamon filled my senses. Her pastries are the hit of the auction. One year her lasagna bolognese bought much needed new playground equipment.
I leaned over the sfogliatella, the rich creamy custard escaping the flaky layers of pastry. Mama reached over and slapped my hand with a wooden spoon. There would be no freebies today. If I wanted one, I’d have to go to the auction like everyone else.
“It’s not like Bob to not call,” Mama said. “I haven’t seen him, and Tony hasn’t said anything. I’ll have Tony check on Bob when he gets home.”
Mama was talking to Peggy. The captain’s wife was worried about him. Bob was avoiding her calls and I couldn’t blame him. Peggy was like Mama on steroids. She’s one of the most intuitive people I know. Bob was in big trouble here. And Peggy would know it in a red-hot minute.
Mama’s eyes shot to me and I gulped. “Caterina, have you seen Captain Bob?”
I shook my head fiercely. “No, I haven’t.”
“My daughter has seen Bob,” Mama said and slapped the phone in my hand. “And you should go to confession for lying to your mama.”
Crap. “Hello, Mrs. Maxfield,” I said. “Are you enjoying your time with your sister?”
“Thanks for asking, Cat. She’s home from surgery and recovering nicely. She’s glad her uterus is gone. It kept falling out and she had to keep pushing it back up. Can you imagine?”
I was trying not to.
“Give her our love,” I said.
“I will.” Peggy’s voice was troubled. “I’m worried about Bob, Cat. Something’s going on and he won’t talk to me more than a few minutes. He says everything’s fine.”
“I dunno,” I said.
“Spill it,” Peggy said. “Your mama says you saw him.”
“Tell her,” Mama said.
“Yesterday. He said he was fine. I ran into him when I was shopping.”
“He was lying,” Peggy said. “Where was that?”
“He was parked on the street by the bakery.”
“Which one?”
“Across from Baumgarten’s Jewelry.”
Her sharp, intake of breath sounded like a groan. “Oh, God.”
For a moment I thought we were disconnected. “Mrs. Maxfield?”
“I’m coming home. As soon as I make arrangements for my sister’s daughter to stay with her. Let me speak to your mama.”
I handed off the phone, stunned. How did this happen? What did I say? The captain told me to keep my big mouth shut. He was gonna be pissed.
And if Peggy is upset now, just wait ’til she learns Sammy is missing.
That’s when I knew Bob told his wife what happened the day Daniel was struck down in the street. And Papa had not. Cuz when I mentioned Baumgarten’s Jewelry, there was anguish in Mrs. Maxfield’s voice. Mama, however, didn’t bat an eye. She rolled out another batch of sfogliatella.
Bob and Papa were the good guys. No matter how I wracked my brain, I couldn’t imagine what they’d done. And now, for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
The women spoke briefly and Mama hung up. She took one look at my guilty face and rapped my hand again with the wooden spoon.
“Ouch!”
“What did you say, Caterina? Now Peggy is upset. She says she’s coming home.”
“I’m a dead woman, Mama. The captain is going to kill me.”
I robo-walked to the back door and Mama called me back. I turned around. Inga, her brown eyes sorrowful, was pressed against her Nonna’s legs. My partner knew I was done for. And she abhors violence
Mama pressed a warm sfogliatella in my hand. She knew I was a goner too.
***
The James Bond theme song blared from my phone as I fired up the engine.
“Hey, spy man,” I said.
“Gattina!” Tino’s voice answered.
Gattina is a term of endearment that literally means, little cat. It’s Tino’s nickname for me and it always makes me smile. It also makes me think he doesn’t know I tower over him.
“I can’t find Max,” he said. “He doesn’t answer his cell.”
“Max can’t hear his phone. He took Sophie to the shooting range.”
“Sophia with a gun?”
“Scary, huh?”
Tino chuckled. “I’d say your little sister is a DeLuca after all. Not switched at birth as you suspected.”
“Bite your tongue.”
“How is the investigation coming?”
“We’re in the beginning stages. We’ll get there.”
“I want the man who killed my friend. When you have a name, give it to me. And then forget about it.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And yet, you adore me.”
I laughed. “Do you want me to find Max for you?”
“It can wait. I have an address for Felix.”
“The guy who did odd jobs.”
“Felix had physical challenges; unsteady when he walked. He was born with a crooked spine, I think. He was a good worker. Danny was nuts about the kid. He enjoyed having him around.”
“I remember he was outside washing windows when Danny was hit. It had to be tough on him.”
“We can’t imagine. I hate to dredge up the memories for him again. But he might know something about the driver.
”
“I can give Max the message when I see him. They should be back soon.”
He rattled off the address and I scratched it on the back of an old receipt.
“How’d you find him?” I said.
“A guy in Social Security owed me a favor. I asked him to search Medicare disability recipients. He said the address is in an assisted living facility. Upscale with private apartments and a shared recreational center and dining room. Even a gym. He said you gotta have some serious cash to live there.”
“Rich parents?”
“Felix was abandoned on the steps of St. Michael’s when he was a baby. He didn’t have a pot to piss in when Danny was around.”
“Maybe he won the lottery.”
“Be sure to ask him. I want you to go with Max. Felix is a timid guy. And Max can appear big and fierce.”
“I’m fierce.”
Tino barked a belly laugh. “If you’re lucky, Felix will play the piano for you. Ask him anything. If he doesn’t know it, hum the tune and he’ll play it. He’s a freaking genius. Considering, that is…”
“What?”
“You’ll see. You’ll go, won’t you?”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
I tossed the phone in my bag and punched the address in my GPS. I kicked the engine in gear and I was off to see the man with the crooked spine.
Chapter Nineteen
The assisted living facility felt like an upscale retirement complex. Except the residents were younger and I knew each had a disability. There was no answer when I knocked on Felix’s door but a neighbor riding a scooter led me to a game room and pointed him out to me.
Felix was fortyish; a small, thin man with mousy brown hair, and wire-rimmed glasses. At the moment he was playing a game of chess. And he was going in for the kill. He’d captured nearly every one of his opponent’s chess pieces and the guy wasn’t happy. He wore a Luke Skywalker tee and the Force wasn’t with him.
Skywalker’s eyes widened as Felix’s queen descended on his doomed King.
“Don’t do it, Felix. Don’t do it,” he snarled.
Felix gave a wicked grin and his queen pounced on the King. They tussled and the King crashed on his back.
“Checkmate!” Felix shouted.
Skywalker leapt to his feet and his arm swept the board. The board flew to the floor and all the King’s men took flight.
The other residents barely blinked.
“Larry, Larry,” an employee said. “Can you go to a happy place now?”
“He goaded me!”
“It’s true,” Felix said. “I’m sorry, Larry.”
Larry looked sheepish. “It was a good game.”
“It was a slaughter,” a young woman giggled. “Nobody beats Felix in chess.”
“You got that right,” Larry admitted.
He rescued the scattered pieces and a few friends helped. They’d done this before. With the chess set reordered, Larry moved across the room and ran explosively on the treadmill. His feet pelted the walking belt. I guessed there was a glitch in Larry’s gray matter. Like bi-polar on steroids.
“Who wants to play me now?” Felix said and I shot to the table before he could tie up a new game. I thrust out my hand.
“Hi, Felix, I’m Cat DeLuca. I want to talk to you about your friend, Daniel Baumgarten.”
“Mr. B is dead.”
“I understand you and he were close.”
His face darkened and his hand stroked something on his lap. I stretched my neck to see the stuffed animal on his legs.
“Nice bear,” I said.
“Mr. B bought it for me at a game.”
The bear wore a blue baseball cap with a big red C. “Did we win?”
He thought a moment. “Sammy Sosa got a walk-off grand slam in the ninth. We creamed the Cardinals, nine to five. We had hot dogs and ice cream. I had chocolate fudge, and Mr. B had pistachio.”
He smiled, delighted with himself.
Felix was mentally challenged. But like many challenged individuals, he was utterly brilliant in specific areas. He played chess very well. And Tino remembered he’s a master pianist.
“Can we go somewhere to talk? I’d like to ask you a few questions about the day Mr. B died.”
Felix pushed back his chair and stood with some difficulty. He hunched over as he walked, gripping a wooden cane with a detailed carving of a lion’s head as the handle. We took the long hall slowly, the crooked spine protesting every step he took. The silence felt awkward and I tried to fill some of it with small talk.
“Danny must have liked you very much.”
Felix smiled shyly. “Mr. B took me to the bakery across the street. Every Wednesday.”
“Tomorrow is Wednesday.”
Felix kept walking.
“I stopped by Baumgarten’s Jewelry today,” I said. “Rob was there. He told me to say hi.”
“Mr. B is dead.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“I kept Mr. B’s plunder safe.”
“Mr. B had plunder? Like a pirate?”
Felix laughed. “Mr. B brought diamonds from South Africa. Like a pirate. And he brought me this walking stick.”
“It’s very cool.”
He tapped his ebony stick on the floor. “Mr. B said the lion was like me. I’m a Leo.”
“You must be very brave.”
Felix nodded solemnly. “I would have saved Mr. B.”
“I’m sure you would have.”
“I didn’t see the bad men coming.”
“What?”
Felix’s shuffling feet stopped and he pushed a heavy oak door with an exit sign. I stepped outside.
“Are we going to the terrace?” I said.
“You’re going home now.”
“Wait! I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk. There was too much blood.”
“Tell me about the bad men.”
“They give me bad dreams.” He slammed the door. I tried the knob but it wouldn’t open without a key card.
I shot to a window and watched the crooked man hobble down the hall.
“What bad men?” I demanded to no one at all.
***
I made a 7-11 stop for juice and snacks. I was ready to hunker down for a long stretch.
The housekeeper said Mr. Smith had been called into work tonight. Maybe he’d blow off his job. But if he made his shift and left Sammy in the motel or car, switching dogs would be a cakewalk.
I settled in on the lumpy mattress and brought Sammy up on the computer screen. He was tied to the bedrail again, eyes big and brown and sad. I tuned in the audio. Dr. Phil was talking to parents who lost kids to gun violence. It was a gut-wrenching segment. Ponytail blew his nose hard but maybe he was coming down with a cold.
The hours dragged on. I ate all the chips and a bag of M&M’s. I gave myself a mani-pedi with Road House Blues nail polish. I fed a handful of quarters to the greedy Magic Fingers and was lulled by its soft buzz and rhythmic shudder. I must have dozed because a knock on the room next door shot me straight up in bed. The computer screen went black. I fell over myself getting to the window.
I opened the door a crack and caught a flash of honey blond and green scarf disappear into room seven.
I turned up the audio. Ponytail muted the TV. “Thanks for taking Sam, Saleen. I’ll drop by and pick him up on my way home from work.”
“He looks sad.”
“He’s okay. How’s your mom?”
“Not good. I see her slipping away. We don’t have much time.”
“He’ll pay, Saleen. I promise. We’ll have thirty g’s in a few days and she’ll begin treatments Monday.”
“I hope so.”
“She’s strong. She’ll beat this. A
nd someday she’ll dance at your wedding.”
I seized my purse and dumped the contents on the bed. I grabbed the keys to the Silver Bullet and raced outside in my bunny slippers. In a moment my head was in the trunk and my hands fumbled in my box of hotshot tricks for my GPS transmitter. It was in a plastic case with two heavy duty magnets and two AA batteries. It would send a signal to my phone and allow me to track her vehicle wherever she went.
I closed the trunk and scanned the parking lot. Two cars had arrived at the motel after me. But the engine under the red MINI Cooper’s hood was still hot.
I dropped my keys on the ground and knelt beside the Cooper’s rear tire. I reached my hand behind the back left wheel, stretching my fingers as far as I could, and secured the magnets. Then I picked up the keys and bounced to my feet.
I scootched to my room and slid inside. The woman Ponytail called Saleen stepped outside with Sam I Am in tow. He lifted his leg on the Silver Bullet’s tire as he passed.
“Little stinker,” I said.
Saleen took Sammy to the MINI Cooper and lifted him in her arms. She opened her door and placed him on the seat beside her. Then she held his face between her palms and kissed his head.
“Oh, crap,” I thought. “I like her.”
I tugged a hoodie over my head and waited for the MINI Cooper to pull onto the street. Racing outside I fired up Jack’s loaner. I was hot on her tail. Saleen blazed her way to West Pershing Street and followed it all the way to the Brighton Park neighborhood. She grabbed Sam I Am and they disappeared in a yellow house with blue trim.
I stepped outside the car and did a few stretches. It was a quiet street and if there was a nosy neighbor like mine, I didn’t see her gawking from a window. I ran around the block and down the alley. The yellow house had a big, fenced backyard with an herb garden. Ivy climbed up the back wall and a spray of yellow and purple irises bordered the house. A kitchen window looked out on the alley but a large dogwood afforded some cover.
The street lights blinked on. It would be dark soon. I jogged back to the car and called Roger. It was time to bring Thor.
***
The gate was fixed with a padlock. I climbed over the fence and hid in a dark corner of the yard behind the dogwood tree. I asked Roger to park close by on the cross street and wait for my call. He said he had a bucket of chicken and if I wanted some, I should call soon.