Laszlo

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Laszlo Page 8

by Dale Mayer


  She sighed happily. “Sounds lovely,” she admitted.

  “It is, but it didn’t get there overnight.”

  “Do you see anybody here it could be?” she said out of the blue.

  “Two possible,” he said, without looking up. “One on the other side of the restaurant. Both wearing short-sleeve cotton plaid shirts, both males sitting alone at tables. Big, big, big as in 280 pounds, six foot, looks rough, maybe like a trucker. The other one is big at six, maybe six one, but he’s got a full head of hair, making him look bigger. Plus he’s rolled up the short sleeves on his shirt even shorter to accentuate his biceps.”

  She stared at Geir. “How do you know all that?”

  “I just looked.”

  She shot him a resentful glance. “Apparently your version of looking is very different than mine.”

  He chuckled at that. “Apparently.”

  Laszlo walked back over, having taken a different route through the restaurant this time with the idea of looking at the glass case of goodies in the front. He certainly wasn’t hungry after Agnes’s big burger and fries, but it let him walk a different path back to the table.

  “It’s the guy on the left,” he said to Geir.

  Geir nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The guy who’s got more hair, making him look taller, whose shirt collar is jacked up, making him look bigger. Whether he does that to intimidate others or he likes to think he’s a big man, I don’t know.”

  “Or it happens to be the only clean shirt he could get his hands on before he walked out the door,” she snapped. She shook her head. “Do you guys always analyze everything?”

  “Sure,” Laszlo said. “Keeps us in practice.”

  “Practice for what?”

  Neither man said a word.

  She raised both hands in mock surrender. “Okay, so if that’s him, what do we do?”

  “We wait and we watch.”

  “And then what? I can’t just sit here the whole time. I need some sleep tonight. Tomorrow is another workday.”

  “And does that mean you’ll go in dressed-down again?”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I’ll be in a different area tomorrow. I wanted to check out a couple files I have and the houses they’re living in.” After that the topic returned to Agnes. “What did she tell you about Mouse?” Minx asked. “I’m really shocked that she talked to you.”

  “She gave us the name of the boyfriend and the name of the man who first sexually abused Mouse. We have to consider that Mouse stayed in contact with him all this time.”

  She gasped and settled back against her seat. “He what?”

  “Bart also confirmed Mouse had a stepfather. That man came into the relationship with a child of his own but left when Mouse was still a child. According to Bart and Agnes, Mouse wasn’t that father’s child.”

  “Right. As I said before though, I don’t know the details.” She raised a brow. “And what are you doing in exchange for that information?”

  Laszlo stared at her. When she motioned toward Geir, he understood. “Agnes wants us to make sure you’re okay for the next day or two.”

  “What?” she stared at them in shock. “Did you tell her?”

  “Just about the phone messages. That’s all we knew. She already knew about the sexual harassment case.”

  Minx sank back into her seat yet again. “That’s the thing about Agnes. You can’t tell her anything she doesn’t already know.”

  “She really cares about you and wants to make sure you stay safe.”

  Minx stared moodily out the window. “I think I need to move.” Then she snorted angrily. “Why the hell should I? It’s his damn fault. I’d have stayed happy in my job but for him.”

  “You don’t have to move,” Laszlo said. “If you love your job, your home, have friends and family to stay close to, then don’t.”

  “Other than Agnes and Bart, no friends or family I’d stay for,” she said, her voice frustrated, angry. “I don’t know how I feel, but I don’t want to continue working for the city. Not sure that I do want to stay. I’m just confused.”

  “Yet you keep saying something along those lines. Pick a place, hand in your notice and then move.”

  She slid forward again toward him. “What about that job part? Shouldn’t I be looking for a job first? Wait until I get hired and then move?”

  “You could do it that way. Or you could pick a place to move, take a month to settle in, figure out where you want to work and then apply.”

  “That’s how I ended up here. I left my uncle’s place in Maine and moved to my friend’s place here, and that didn’t work out so well.”

  “What did you do back in Maine?”

  “I was a student doing typical age-related jobs. Waitressing, worked in a garden shop for a while.” She shrugged. “I needed money.”

  “And why did you and your friend fall out?”

  She winced. “Because my friend from way back hadn’t given up one of her more unpleasant hobbies.”

  The men stopped and stared.

  She shrugged. “When younger she used sex to get the extras in life. Now she uses sex to get everything in life.”

  “She’s a prostitute?”

  “A high-end call girl is what she would call it.”

  “I don’t suppose she wanted you to go into the business by any chance, did she?”

  “Oh, yeah. She sure did. Didn’t take it kindly when I made it very clear after several months of beating around the bush, not really understanding what she was doing with her life. Not until she came flat-out and told me how unimpressed she was that I’d been living there free of charge for three months while I looked for a job. The thing is, I’d been staying there rent free, but I had been paying for all the groceries, doing all the cleaning, running all the errands, everything while she was off in all these mysterious meetings.”

  “How long did it take you to figure it out?”

  “Way too long,” she said shortly. “She had lots of groups she belonged to, a major social life she was a part of. And a boyfriend. So I was happy to just play along and not get too involved. I was excited about being around her again, having a connection to my past. But finally I got suspicious. At that point, I sent out lots of job applications. I didn’t want to go back to my uncle’s, as if I’d failed. I ended up getting a job as a counselor at a private school, but she told me the job would never pay what she made, and I should jump ship and join her. The next day I had my own apartment. By the weekend I was in it and long gone from her world.” She chuckled. “I saw too much of that shit growing up. No way was I going there. Besides, I moved into my current job soon afterward.”

  “Did you tell the cops about her?”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Maybe I should have, though.”

  “Sometimes it’s best not to interfere.”

  Chapter 8

  Minx exited her car and walked over to the small basement apartment she had rented. She pulled out her keys and slipped them inside the doorknob. She did not look behind her. She knew both men were even now watching her arrival. They would follow her inside the apartment within seconds, so, even if somebody waited for her, chances were good she wouldn’t be in danger. As soon as they told her their plan, she just about had a heart attack. But she’d immediately seen the sense of it and had agreed.

  Inside she turned on the lights, and, unable to stop herself, she quickly did a walk-through of her apartment, checking the closets and under the bed. But found no sign of anyone. Relieved, she placed her keys and purse atop the kitchen table and waited until the men joined her. She didn’t need more coffee, but a cup of tea might help chase away the irritation and fatigue she felt. She’d call it stress, but it seemed like her life had been filled with nothing but stress recently, ever since her asshole of a boss had decided he wanted a whole lot more from her than she wanted to give.

  With the tea
kettle boiling, she took off her shoes and dropped onto the couch. There was still no sign of the men. She had no idea what they could find to do out there, but they appeared to be thorough. That they weren’t on her heels made her worry they’d found something.

  When a knock came on the door a few moments later, she got up and answered, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me,” Laszlo said. “Let us in.”

  She opened the door to them.

  He studied her door. “There’s no peephole?”

  She shrugged. “Nope, there isn’t. But then it’s lacking a whole lot more than that too.” She opened the door wide enough for them to come in. It seemed strange to have these larger-than-life men in her small space. It was almost as odd as the space itself. It was not home and not a hotel but somewhere in between.

  They did a quick walk-through, like she had but, in some ways, more thorough. Of course this was their first time seeing the place. They moved like predators on the prowl. Smooth, loose-limbed and powerful. She could watch Laszlo for hours; he was so beautiful in his movements. What did that say about her?

  “You rented it furnished?”

  She nodded slowly, pulling herself together, crossing her arms and leaning against the living room wall that separated the living room from the kitchen area. “Why?”

  “You didn’t have any of your own furniture?”

  “I have an apartment on the other side of the city. But it’s way longer of a commute than I wanted with this newest job. So I rented this basement suite on a short-term basis. I was hoping to make this an extremely short transfer. But every time I ask when it’s over, I keep getting the same song and dance.”

  “And were you planning on going back to your old position?”

  “When I started this process, I thought that might be doable, but apparently I’m naive because everybody else hated me for what I accused Andrew of.”

  “Andrew who?”

  “Andrew Conley. He’s my old boss with the wandering fingers, vicious gaze and expectations way beyond reality.”

  The men nodded and wrote down his name. “Do you have a copy of the report you signed?”

  “Remember I go in tomorrow and sign it?”

  “That’s kind of odd. Normally you would sign a statement right off the bat.”

  “That’s probably my fault. They offered me a chance to consider what I was doing and to think about if I was really serious about going through with it.”

  “Isn’t this a criminal offense?” Laszlo frowned. “Surely there’s no choice at this point.”

  “Well, I would have thought so,” she said. “But I guess they wanted me to be sure I was prepared to go through with this. Maybe they have had a rash of false sexual harassment accusations lately.”

  Laszlo said, “They often drop the charges if the defendant isn’t willing to testify.”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  “You decided you were?”

  She shrugged. “Thinking about not testifying wasn’t making me sleep at night. Because I kept thinking of all the other women he would do this to. Women who needed the job and felt they had to comply in order to keep it. An amazing number of single mothers’ security is threatened in that very manner. And it’s not right.”

  “True enough. What time is your appointment?”

  “At ten a.m.” She got up as the teakettle whistled, walked over and made herself a cup of tea. Did they want something? She turned to look at the men. “You don’t look like tea-drinkers, but can I make you a cup?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  She smiled. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any alcohol in the house.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  Just then one of the men’s phones went off. She watched as Laszlo pulled his phone from his pocket and smiled.

  “We have a rundown on the license plate. The vehicle was stolen four days ago.” Laszlo put his phone back in his pocket.

  She picked up her tea, walked to the living room, sat down carefully and held her drink close, needing the warmth, the comfort of just the hot tea against her chest. “Stolen?”

  “Yes, likely stolen for the purpose of following you. Who were you talking to at the police station?”

  “Officer Charter,” she answered. “But I doubt this would have anything to do with him.”

  He nodded. “I know somebody who might be able to help us.”

  “Levi?” Geir asked.

  Laszlo nodded. “I know they work closely with the Houston law enforcement officers.”

  “Maybe one of them can recommend somebody here?”

  He had his phone out again and hit a couple buttons on it while she watched. When somebody answered on the other end, he said, “Levi, it’s Laszlo.”

  She half listened in on the conversation while they explained where they were. “I’m sure you know why we’re here, but we met an old neighborhood friend of Mouse’s, only she’s being tailed. She filed a sexual harassment report on her boss a few days ago. And she’s going in tomorrow to sign the paperwork to go through with the allegations. We just tracked the license plate number on the truck tailing her to a vehicle stolen four days ago.” He listened for a few moments. “That’s what we were thinking,”

  She tuned out the conversation, put her teacup on the coffee table and curled up in the corner of the couch. Geir took one look, grabbed a folded blanket off the side and held it out for her. She smiled, nodded and wrapped it around her shoulders. She just wanted this all to go away. As a matter of fact, she wanted everything to go away. It seemed like, since she had returned to Texas, her life had not been how she’d hoped.

  So why had she stayed? Because she had no place to go? Well, she did. She could return to Maine, but that didn’t feel right either. She was supposed to make her own way now. And that seemed to be almost impossible when she kept running up against shitty scenarios.

  Finally Laszlo got off the phone and turned toward her, his gaze narrow. “He’ll make a couple calls, see if he can get somebody to deal with us. I also gave him the license plate number and told him where the vehicle was. It’s not likely to still be there, but the fact that he parked it, and we never saw him or the truck leaving, it’s possible it was ditched.”

  “You don’t think it was the second man from the restaurant?”

  “He drove off in a small car just as we were leaving,” Geir said. “It’s possible he had nothing to do with this. It’s also possible he was a diversion at the restaurant or came in another vehicle so you wouldn’t notice.”

  She shivered. “I’m not that important. A sexual harassment lawsuit wouldn’t be that devastating to anyone,” she snapped. “Why would somebody go to all the trouble?”

  “There’s no way to tell, but it would likely cost him his job, his reputation, perhaps his wife … family,” Laszlo said.

  “But he’s a nobody. He’s not married, not that I know of. And what reputation? He works for the city in some low-level midmanagement position. Although I did hear he was active in his church, go figure.”

  “But you’ve started a process, and now we carry on and see how it’ll go.”

  “I hear you, but this isn’t how I want to live my life.”

  The men chuckled. “That’s the thing about life. It lives you, not you living it.”

  That startled a laugh out of her. “So now what? You guys take off for the night, and I stay here, and, when I get up in the morning, I go to the cops and hopefully nobody’s following me then?”

  “I’ll stay here,” Laszlo said. “Geir can return to our hotel room. I’ll make sure you’re okay for the night, and I’ll go with you to the cops in the morning. If somebody’s trying to stop you from going forward with this complaint, then you’ll need protection until you get there. Though that doesn’t mean you won’t need protection afterward as well.”

  Geir shrugged. “Police corruption can be pretty ugly. It’s one of the reasons we contacted Levi. He knows decent people, at least in Hou
ston. He might know somebody in Dallas. What we need is a cop we can trust. Did you speak to anybody else about the problem?”

  She shook her head. “No, just the cop I’m supposed to meet tomorrow.”

  “Then I’m definitely going with you because I want to get the measure of this man,” Laszlo said. “Any more thoughts on moving?”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about it,” she said. “But it doesn’t change the fact I have no clue where to move to. And I still need a job.”

  “Is your other apartment rented out?”

  She nodded. “I sublet it to a friend who’s in town for a few weeks. Just long enough for me to sort myself out, I hope.”

  It was obvious the men understood.

  A few minutes later, Geir held out his hand, and Laszlo tossed him the keys. “Where’s the station?” Geir asked.

  She shrugged. “The one on Second Avenue.”

  He nodded. “I’ll see you both there, ten in the morning.” He glanced at Laszlo. “We’ve got one more night, but let me know if you want me to bring anything for you here in the morning.”

  Laszlo got to his feet. “Sounds good.” He nodded his head to Minx. “I’ll walk him out. I’ll be back in a minute. Lock the door and stay inside until I come back.”

  Tired, unnerved at the thought he was staying with her—and at the thought he didn’t even ask, it was just a recognized thing that had to happen—she got up and threw the bolt behind them. She didn’t know how long they would be, but she figured it was close enough to bedtime that she could get ready and disappear pretty fast once he was back inside. She didn’t want him thinking anything was going on between them. Not that he’d even made a move in that direction. But, like she’d said earlier, she hadn’t gotten to this age without understanding how quickly things could change …

  Outside Laszlo said, “Stay in touch. I have no idea how this night will go.”

  “I’ll drive past the coffee shop and see if the truck is still there. If it is, I’ll call the cops again, make sure they come and pick it up. Whoever owns that vehicle could probably use it. And, of course, we didn’t get the license plate of the red car, the one the man drove off in.”

 

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