“He’s on his way. I took photos.”
Holbrook threw the tarp back over Billy’s body and stood. He saw a couple of early morning walkers down the boardwalk pumping their legs. “We gotta get this body off the boardwalk before people start waking up and shops start opening up. After the coroner takes the body, get over to the Jolly Roger and start asking some questions. I’m certain that’s where he came from anyway. See who he was with and if he pissed anyone off.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“I gotta talk to the Mayor. We’ve got a murder and two missing persons all in one night, and the weathermen are talking about a ‘superstorm’ heading our way tomorrow. We have to be ready for evacuation. We’re already spread thin, and I think Circus Faire’s going to be a waste of resources at the moment. One of the missing persons is Mario Russo’s elderly mother. She’s got a UTI and isn’t in her right mind.”
“Holy smokes,” said Lawson.
“You ain’t kidding. Get this cleaned up and keep an eye out for Sophia Russo. Joann’s going to text her picture around. I’m gonna drop by the house, hop in the shower, and head to the station.”
“You got it, Chief.”
Holbrook pulled up to his house and parked in the small gravel driveway. He searched for the correct key to open the front door when he realized he had handed his keys over to Joann. He opened the storm door and knocked on the door instead of ringing the doorbell, for fear of waking Robbie.
Lena answered, opening the door. Holbrook quickly entered.
“Is everything all right?” asked Lena.
“We have two missing persons, one an elderly lady, and a murder.”
“Oh my God.”
“I have to jump in the shower. I have a lot to do. I have to talk to the Mayor.”
“Dad!” shouted Robbie from the top of the stairs. He came bounding down, taking two steps at a time.
“I have to cancel Circus Faire,” continued Holbrook.
Robbie stopped in his tracks. “Why, Dad?” His disappointment was obvious.
“Jim, he was looking forward to going with you,” Lena reproved.
“What happened?” asked Robbie.
“Mario Russo’s elderly mother is missing.”
“Can’t Joann handle it?” asked Lena. “Your son’s been looking forward to spending some time with you.”
Holbrook looked her in the eye. “Lena, Billy Blake is dead.”
This took the wind out of her sails. There was a brief moment, a quick micro-expression of shock and something else, and then it was gone, wiped clean like footprints in the sand by the surf. Their marital scar was tingling. “Jesus. Where? How? Who would do such a thing?”
Holbrook began to strip off his clothes. “C’mon, Lena, is it that hard to imagine? The man’s a…” He saw Robbie watching their tense exchange, listening. “Robbie, why don’t you watch a little TV?”
“Okay, Dad.” He hesitated, giving his parents one last look as if to make sure he wasn’t going to missing anything.
“Now, Robbie,” pressed Lena.
Robbie disappeared into the living room, and Holbrook waited until he heard the TV blaring before he continued. “Right in front of his store. All messed up, too. Someone did a real number on him.”
“My God.”
“With this ‘superstorm’ coming, we have to prepare for the possibility of evacuation, and we gotta find Sophia Russo before then.”
“Who’s the other missing person?”
“One of those damned clowns. Probably wandering off drunk somewhere from the Ocean’s Gate. I expect he’ll turn up soon when he sobers up. I got his two buddies at the station right now.”
“Okay, go take your shower. Maybe you can carve out a little time with Robbie today, even if Circus Faire is going to be cancelled. He’s wanted to go on the go karts with you for some time now.”
Holbrook hesitated, as if he was mulling something over in his head. “Yeah, I think I can do something like that. In the meantime, pack us a few bags. If things are going to get rough and there’s going to be flooding, I want you two ready to vamoose.”
“I’ll call my mother up and tell her to prepare the guest room just in case.”
“Good idea.” He made to go upstairs when Lena grabbed him gently on his arm. He stopped and looked at her.
“Be careful.”
“I’ll be just fine.”
“There’s a killer out there now. This is more than drunk and disorderly, or the usual beach town stuff.”
“I know,” he said softly.
They looked each other in the eye, and an unspoken understanding passed between them, the kind that only occurred between a married couple with history. They had certainly put the years in. At that moment, neither had to say ‘I love you’ to the other.
Holbrook climbed the stairs, entered the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Within minutes he was inside lathering up, washing away the grime of the night so that he could face the grime of the day. There was no time to shave, so when he finished and toweled off, he jumped into a new uniform and was back down the stairs.
“Robbie,” he called into the living room.
Robbie appeared in the doorway. “Yes, Dad.”
“I don’t think Circus Faire is going to happen, but we’ll do something this afternoon. I promise.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Come here and give me a hug.”
Robbie hugged his father. He then paused in the doorway, smiled sadly at his dad, and went back into the living room.
Holbrook felt like a real asshole. Summers were rough, and Lena and Robbie knew that from experience. It came with the job. Yet, more and more Holbrook found himself making promises he wasn’t able to keep.
But he’d keep this one.
If there was going to be an evacuation, this was his last chance to spend some time with his son before the shit hit the fan. Hell, he didn’t care if the Bay was going to fall to riots today. He promised himself he was going to spend a good, solid hour with his son, just the two of them.
Lena came from the kitchen and handed him a travel mug full of hot coffee.
“Bless you,” he said. He kissed her softly on her lips. It felt good.
“Be careful, Chief.”
“I’m always careful. Tell your mother I said hi.”
“Will do, chicky poo.”
Chapter 15
Mike Brunello brushed his teeth after a decent night of thankfully dreamless sleep. He felt somewhat refreshed and was looking forward to Circus Faire. He had already laid out his own clown outfit the night before, after digging it out of the closet. The getup only saw the light of day twice a year—for Circus Faire and Halloween.
He never dressed as anything frightening for Halloween because he didn’t want to chase the younger children at the arcade away. Mary loved his clown outfit. She always teased him about it.
‘Mike, you’re supposed to be something different for Halloween.’
He smiled to himself, lost in the memory. She loved the children, too, which only made Mike feel guilty about not having been able to give her any. Truth be told, they weren’t exactly sure whose physiology wasn’t cooperating. Mary was old-fashioned. She didn’t want to be poked, prodded, and tested, and she never pressured Mike to submit himself to modern medical science either.
‘It’s in God’s hands,’ she always used to say. ‘If he wants us to have children, He’ll give us children.’
She only went to the doctor when sick, which is why God claimed her before him, a bone he had to pick with God at the Pearly Gates. But not quite yet.
He chased the memories, the hurt, and the anger away from his mind, focusing on his preparations for Circus Faire. He had all winter to ruminate over several good bottles of Scotch.
He looked at his watch—7:23 a.m. He had to meet Vinnie for breakfast at around eight, so he had to get a move on. Mike had finished putting on his clown outfit, threw his makeup kit into a knapsack, and grabbed his key
s off the kitchen counter when he had the eerie feeling he was being watched.
He looked around his silent, empty house, unable to shake the strange feeling. His eyes crossed the front windows when he thought he saw a shape through the Venetian blinds.
It looked as if someone was standing there, right up against the window.
Mike crossed the living room and pulled the blinds up, but there was no one there. Mike shook his head. Whenever he thought about Mary too much, she started to pop up everywhere.
His doctor said it was a normal part of grieving, particularly when you’d been married to the deceased for eons. He was so used to seeing her day-in and day-out that even when she was gone, his brain had him keep seeing her.
However, Mike was of the mindset that the dead should stay buried.
He pulled the blinds back down, grabbed his oversized horn, and left out the front door, locking the deadbolt behind him. It was a cooler day with an overcast sky, a welcome break in the heat wave, but a sign of the storm that was to come.
He walked down to the breakfast shop and saw Vinnie was already seated outside and looking at the menu. He slid into the booth, honking his horn, causing Vinnie to jump out of his skin.
“Jesus, Mike.”
“Woke you up, didn’t I?”
Vinnie just shook his head.
“Why are you even looking at the menu?” teased Mike. “You always get the same thing anyway. So, is Dharma dressing up for the parade?”
“Yeah, she’s marching, full makeup and all.”
Mike smiled. “I always knew she had an affinity for clowns. I mean, she’s with you.”
“Ha, ha. You’re a real joker.” Vinnie’s face became grave. “Did you hear about Mario Russo’s mom?”
“No, what happened?”
“She ran away from home last night. The police are looking all over the Bay for her.”
“That’s terrible,” said Mike.
The waitress came over. “What’ll you have?”
“I’ll have a pepperoni omelet with home fries,” said Vinnie, “and a cup of coffee, please.”
“Ah, shaking things up, are we?” said Mike. “I’ll have a bran muffin and a cup of coffee, sweetheart. Are you taking Bianca to Circus Faire?”
The waitress smiled. “Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t miss it. She loves the dancing baby circus bears.”
“How old is she now?”
“Eight.”
“Man alive, I’m getting old. I remember when you were showing me baby pictures.”
The waitress smiled. “Yeah, well, time flies. Coffee coming right up.”
“Thank you, dear.”
They watched her walk away, and Vinnie continued where he left off. “Yeah, she ran away in the middle of the night.”
“Kids and teenagers run away,” said Mike. “Old ladies don’t run away. They elope.”
“Yeah, well, word has it that she paid a visit to the Ocean’s Gate and caused quite the disturbance over there, throwing up blood on some drunken clowns.”
Behind Vinnie, across the street, a diminutive figure shambled down the sidewalk. It was an old woman covered in dirt and grime. She looked like a homeless person.
“That’s disgusting, Vin.”
“But it’s true.”
“Poor thing must be sick. I hope they find her so they can help her.”
The waitress returned with their two coffees. “Are you two talking about poor Sophia Russo?”
Across the street the old woman saw one of the Bay’s many feral cats sitting at the edge of the boardwalk, licking its paws. The old woman took notice and started to lurch toward the edge where it sat.
“What am I, the only one who hasn’t heard about this?” said Mike.
“The cops were all over my block,” said Vinnie. “This psychologist who lives across the street from them said she treated Sophia Russo when she was at a nursing home.”
“I don’t know why they ever took her home,” said the waitress, snapping her gum. “They should’ve left her there.”
The cat across the street picked up on the stench emanating off the old woman and arched its back.
A jogger passed the old woman. She swiped at him as he passed, but he had his earbuds in and was ‘in the zone,’ so he didn’t take any notice.
The cat backed away from the edge of the boardwalk, hissing and spitting at the dingy old woman as the old crone threw herself against the side edge, reaching out with her arms.
“It’s not an easy thing leaving someone in one of those places,” said Mike. “I had to leave Mary in one of those homes in the end, because I couldn’t take care of her any more. It was horrible, seeing her slowly waste away. I wanted to take her home, but I was so messed up I was hardly able to take care of myself.”
The waitress saw Mike’s pensive expression and was sorry she interjected. “I’ll go check on your orders,” she said awkwardly and scurried off.
“Well, anyway, they’d better find her before this big storm comes,” said Mike.
“Yeah, they’re talking about hurricane force winds,” said Vinnie, “and if the two fronts combine, a surge of water causing flooding all up and down the shore, Long Island, and even up as far as Newport.”
“That’s a big storm,” said Mike.
“Slow moving, too. It’s supposed to drop down and sit for a while.”
Mike looked over Vinnie’s shoulder and saw the shape disappear under the boardwalk. Damned kids. Or maybe it was one of those guys with a metal detector in search of treasure. “Well, I’m going to drop by the Russo’s to see how they’re doing.”
“I hope they find her,” said Vinnie.
“I’m sure she’s around,” said Mike. “It’s a small island.”
* * *
Officers Pike and Campbell took written statements from the two clowns from the Ocean’s Gate. One of them, Sean, looked a bit green around the gills.
“You don’t look so good,” said Joann. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t feel so good,” said Sean. “I’ve got this weird taste in my mouth. Can’t get rid of it.” He spit on the floor.
“That’s attractive,” said Joann.
Pete looked up from his pad and pen and elbowed his sallow friend. “C’mon, man. We’re in enough trouble as is.”
Sean looked at his friend, his eyes baggy with dark shadows under them, and bared his teeth. “We wouldn’t be in this trouble if you hadn’t decided to call up an escort service. Man.”
Pete’s eyes bulged, and his face drained of all its color. “He’s tired. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Uh huh,” said Pike. “I’m sure.”
“Too bad Mindy doesn’t know,” said Sean with a shit-eating grin. “Poor girl. Someone should tell her.”
“All right, that’s enough,” said Joann sternly.
“Shut up,” said Pete.
“Whoring is a dirty habit. Swimming in dirty waters.”
“Shut up, Sean.”
Normally a sharp rebuke from Pete was all it took to silence Sean, but Sean wasn’t having it any longer. “Officer, I’ll tell you everything. My conscience can no longer bear this horrible burden.”
“Shut up, Sean.”
“Do you wish to amend your statement?” asked Joann.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” said Pete, desperate. “Look, there’s something wrong with him.”
Sean looked at his friend, arching an eyebrow. “You’ve been swimming in dirty waters. Tell the pretty young officer all about it.”
“Screw you, Sean.”
Sean stood, snatched the pen from Pete’s hand, and drove it down into Pete’s leg.
Pete grabbed his leg, jumped up, and screamed in pain.
Sean’s face in clown makeup twisted in hatred. “No, screw you, Pete.” He started laughing raucously. It had a nasty, snarling quality to it, and the fact that it was coming out of a disheveled clown was a bit disconcerting.
Pik
e grabbed Sean and guided him away from Pete, who was moaning as he clutched his leg. Blood oozed up and stained his clown pants. Joann ran to grab a pair of rubber gloves.
Sean’s eyes were feral as he laughed in Pike’s face.
“Okay, that’ll be enough of that,” said Pike, restraining the clown as he reached down for his plastic handcuffs. Suddenly, Sean stopped laughing and looked down.
Pike’s eyes followed, and he saw a dark wet spot grow in Sean’s groin area. “Aw, gross.” He turned Sean around and bound his wrists with the plastic tie.
“Get him in the holding pen,” said Joann. “I’ll call an ambulance to have him transferred to the ER to stabilize him.”
Pike nodded and guided Sean down to the holding cells as Joann popped a squat to have a look at Pete’s leg.
“Why would you do that, you stupid fuck?” Pete shouted at Sean’s back.
Sean allowed himself to be led into a cell. Pike pushed him in and closed the door shut, leaving him handcuffed.
“Why don’t you have a seat and chill out?” Pike said.
However, Sean just stood there, hands behind his back, grinning from ear to ear. His face was sweaty under the thick makeup, and his eyes had dark shadows under them.
“We’re going to get you some help,” reassured Pike.
“Poor Pete, doesn’t have ol’ Sean to push around anymore.”
“We’re going to transport you to the hospital,” continued Pike, ignoring Sean’s comment.
Sean looked at Pike and stuck his tongue all the way out of his mouth. Then he closed his mouth, biting down hard on the tongue, clenching his jaw with all of his might.
“There’s something wrong with that man,” said a guy in the next cell arrested for being drunk and disorderly last night.
“Stop that,” said Pike. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Sean only grinned, sawing his bottom teeth back and forth until syrupy blood began to well up from his mouth.
“Jesus,” said Pike. He grabbed his keys and opened the cell as Sean bit down hard, his jaw working back and forth.
“He’s going to hurt himself,” said the other prisoner.
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