When the girls were at work and Lupe and Corazon with Auggie at his home, the skeleton of plumbing and spirit decided to manifest a little further, according to plan. If people had been there to look, faces real or imagined appeared along the hallways, in the bathrooms, around the kitchen sink, in the laundry room, looking up from the flooring. They were transparent yet assumed the coloration of the surfaces they inhabited.
Richard Waverly was alone in the House. He walked through the kitchen and into his office, carrying a cup of coffee he’d made for himself, feeling nor seeing anything out of the ordinary. He stepped on several of them. He sat at his desk and opened his computer, his Wall Street Journal waiting. Four faces looked down upon him, matching the color and hues of the knotty pine paneling, plumbing running through the wall behind his desk.
On the exterior of the House an explicit and sensitive web work of tendrils began to crawl up the adobe walls.
By the time Lupe and Corazon were returning to the House, Waverly had grown weary of entertaining himself. The ladies passed him in his car, headed down the dirt ribbon road. He did not wave to them, nor they to him.
The faces vanished as Lupe and Corazon went into the House.
The tendrils on the outside walls continued to strengthen and thicken.
Skulls continued to bob on the surface of the Pit, unnoticed.
Bry stayed with Donna and the girls for the evening. Evelyn closed the office early, and she and Auggie and I headed to town in his Tahoe. We arrived there around six PM. Auggie drove to the truck stop; the girl’s directions were accurate and the apartment complex was easily found. We parked and got out. No one was in sight, no doors or windows open or uncurtained. “Where do we start?” asked Auggie.
“Give me a minute,” I said. I walked to the front sidewalk and stood facing the buildings, in the center of the two. I focused on the buildings and concentrated on blocking everything else out. “I think we should start with Estrella’s brother – I believe him to be in the end unit to the left, bottom floor.”
Auggie smiled slightly at me as he went to the door I indicated. He knocked, and a young man answered. “Si Senor? Can I help you?”
Auggie waved us over. “Are you Estrella’s brother?”
The young man nodded. “We need to speak with you, Miguel,” I said. He looked startled when I spoke his name.
“How do you know who I am?”
I answered. “Your sister knows we are here. Estrella sent us.”
His eyes were wide as we asked for his help.
Within about fifteen minutes, a small crowd had gathered on the parking lot. Miguel had helped us call upon all of the families, and since he’d already met most of them, as he told them who we were and that we had news of the girls they were all anxious to meet us and hear what we had to say. He introduced us to the group.
“Attention, por favor. This is Mrs. Evelyn, from the Junction. And this is Doctor Auggie, who we have all heard about. This is Maddy, who works for Mrs. Evelyn in her oficina. They have told me that just today, they have talked with all of our girls. And they have something to say to us, too.” He spoke in English and Spanish.
Evelyn began. “First, we want you all to know that we are pleased you will come and speak with us. We are sorry to interrupt your time this evening, but we do have news and it is of the utmost importance to you.”
Auggie spoke next. “I want to assure you that all of the girls are fine and healthy. Alicia and Miranda are both about a month away from having their babies, if their loved ones weren’t sure. The others are not as far along. As Miguel said, we saw all of them today and talked with them.”
Evelyn continued, “We want to hear from you exactly what you were promised by the lawyer, Anthony Lozano, and the other man who works for him.”
A cacophony of Spanish and broken English erupted through the group. Everyone spoke at the same time, some trying to get our direct attention, others beginning to cry, old women wringing their hands and daubing eyes with handkerchiefs. Miguel went to one of the staircases and shouted for everyone’s attention. “POR FAVOR! Bastante! Enough!”
Evelyn spoke loudly. “Please, tell us your stories, but one at a time!”
A woman made her way to the front, two younger boys in tow. “I am Alicia’s mama. Her arrangement with the man Tony was to have the baby and she would earn ten thousand dollars for us. When the baby was born, we would be able to meet her up at the Junction, and the man would pay her and give her our good papers and then take us to the city where we could go where we wanted – stay there or take a bus or plane.”
Evelyn thought a moment and then asked another question. “Who was the father of the babies?”
Alicia’s mother looked at her, then glanced around at a few of the others. “Alicia told me it was the man who lives at the House. The one the lawyer calls his boss.”
Evelyn’s eyes grew huge and then she fainted. Auggie managed to catch her before she fell down.
Someone fetched a chair for her, and Auggie revived her quickly. Someone else handed her some tissues. She sniffled, and I could feel her courage as she fought her own memories. With Auggie’s help, she stood up and straightened her back. “Did all of your families have the same arrangement?” She spoke loudly so all could hear.
All their responses were positive. I went to her side. “Oh my God,” she said as I hugged her. “Oh my God.”
We’d discovered nearly forty people more in need of our help, the families. And they didn’t even know about the faces.
30
Anthony Lozano was busy in his office. He’d been working all afternoon, shredding all of the documents in his possession and then burning the remnants in the fire pit outside on his patio. As he worked, he drank. By the time he’d finished his purging his attitude had shifted from nervous to watchful.
He looked up from the shredder as his door chime rang.
Beads of sweat regrouped on his brow. He had no appointments.
The door chime rang insistently.
Tony stepped through the foyer and could see one familiar figure at the door.
He put his hand out to the door handle, and slowly thumbed the latch.
Richard Waverly stood outside on the steps.
“Hello, Tony,” said Waverly. “Not feeling well? You look a bit green.” He brushed past the lawyer and came inside with a dismissive gesture.
“Come in, Richard,” Tony answered as he closed the door behind. “What brings you out here – no babies . . .” He followed Waverly into the den.
“It’s not been a good day, old friend,” said Richard as he poured himself a drink. “I didn’t sleep well last night and then this morning Lupe decided to leave the house without making my coffee. Not a good day at all.” He drank deeply of Tony’s best scotch.
Tony cut his eyes toward his desk and then looked at Richard. He’d managed to leave nothing out of the ordinary. The laptop rested by itself, closed, in the center of the desk and there was nothing more than a couple of pens beside it.
Richard refilled his glass and made himself comfortable on the sofa. “I was hoping to catch you here. I need an update on Rafe’s progress, and the next prospects.”
Tony went to the bar and poured a glass for himself. “Well,” he said casually, “actually Rafe’s no longer a part of our operation.”
Tony had heard Richard’s next words on many occasions and knew full well the tone in which they were spoken. He had an understanding. “How do you propose to cover that?”
The beads of sweat on Tony’s brow trickled down his temple. He sat in the chair opposite Waverly. “Well, I hadn’t thought much about it. It’s no great loss to us. We can easily replace him – there are guys around willing to work who are probably better than he was.” Sweat stains blossomed on his shirt, concealed by his jacket.
Waverly sucked air in through his nose, loudly. He sipped his drink. “Plan on rectifying that soon, do you?”
“Of course. But we have a li
ttle time. The house is full, lots on the way.”
“It pays to keep cash flow constant, does it not?”
“Yes, Richard. I understand.” They sipped their drinks.
“There was some strange fucking shit going on at the House last night,” Richard commented.
“Really? What?”
“The girls all went ballistic. Freaked out over something. I was asleep, and the next thing I remember was waking up outside on the lawn, with all of them standing there looking at me. Not quite sure what the hell happened.”
Tony crossed his legs and swung the top one. “Sounds VERY weird.”
“It was.” Richard stood up and looked outside at the patio, where the door was ajar. “Do I smell something burnt?” He looked at the fire pit. “Kind of early in the day for a fire, isn’t it?”
Tony’s balls crawled up into his abdomen as he rose from the chair. There was a small trashcan full of shredded papers he’d not managed to burn before Richard showed up. Before he could protest, Richard opened the door to the patio and went out. Tony watched him poke through the can of paper bits. He saw Richard look up at him through the door.
Richard stood in the doorway. “Been shredding anything I might want to know about?”
Tony remained rooted, his feet attached to the carpet.
“Answer me, Tony.”
“Richard,” those are old files and papers I’d been meaning to clear out, that’s all.” His voice cracked just a tad.
Waverly’s eyes narrowed, imperceptibly. “Tony, we aren’t having any second thoughts about anything, are we?”
Tony managed a laugh. “Of course not. Like I said, just housekeeping.”
“Show me the accounting files on your computer.”
Tony swallowed. One of the tasks he had completed that morning was a transfer of funds – far more than his share – to his personal account. “Richard,” he said with a slight smile, “You trust me. Always have. What’s the problem?” He spread his hands nonchalantly.
“The problem is, I don’t really.” Waverly edged toward the desk. “Open that goddamn computer and show me, Tony.”
Tony started around the other side of the desk. “You know, why bother – everything is just the same as it was last week.”
Waverly sighed. “First Rafe, and now you, nervous as a whore in church. Something stinks.”
Tony knew that Waverly never left the House without a gun.
It was a small .22 caliber, worn in an armpit holster.
He wasn’t surprised when Richard drew it out from beneath his coat.
He didn’t feel the shots, first to his abdomen and then two to his head, when Richard came around the desk.
He only felt the blackness, and then the light.
31
Waverly called Manny. “Meet me at the House in an hour. The Pit.”
He reholstered his weapon and considered the mess. He thought a few moments and then went to the large window in the living room and pulled down the draperies on the left side toward the front door. He dragged the thick fabric back to the den.
Laying the material out across the floor, he grabbed Tony by his arms and hefted his body around the desk toward the shroud. Once he positioned the body to his satisfaction he began to work the curtains around in a neat bundle. He went to the kitchen and rummaged around until he found some large black trash sacks and a roll of duct tape. Returning to the body, he worked at covering the shroud in a black plastic cocoon.
Tony was neatly mummified in basic black.
He went out to his car, checking for any potential eyewitnesses. Satisfied, he nonchalantly opened the trunk of his sedan, rearranging a few things inside of it to create space. He left the deck lid open and glanced around again, casually.
He went back inside and began to carefully drag the cocoon toward the front door. He opened it wide, and tossed a nearby floor mat over the threshold so the plastic would not tear as he crossed. He eased the corpse down the short flight of steps to the back of his waiting vehicle.
The only trouble he caused himself was catching some duct tape on the trunk latch. He picked it clean and shut the lid.
Fifty minutes later, no one living in the House noticed as the car’s headlights bypassed the driveways and headed down the hill away from the north side. They did not see Manny’s car following a few moments later.
The faces did.
Waverly backed very slowly down the ramp leading into the Pit. He held his driver’s side door open just far enough to watch the pier and make sure the car was traveling straight. When he neared the end of the ramp he parked and cut the engine and lights. He saw Manny arrive at the land end of the pier and cut his lights and engine as well, heading his direction as a dark shadow.
“Need a little help here, Manny,” Richard called.
Manny eased his way around the passenger side of Waverly’s car. He looked into the open trunk. “Who’s that?”
“Tony.”
Manny looked at Waverly, his massive features totally noncommittal. He reached into the trunk, and began shifting the corpse so he could lift it. He had a bit of trouble at first, given the slick plastic and sticky duct tape. He grunted and huffed. Finally he raised it out and up, and laid it across his huge shoulder. He lumbered several steps to the end of the pier and lowered the mummy into the Pit.
He and Waverly watched as Tony slowly bubbled beneath the corrosive surface.
They were about to turn away when a skull popped free of the bubbles, floating in the muck.
Slowly, several others emerged. Ghastly white corks bobbed in the effluence.
Manny’s eyes were wide.
Richard turned to his accomplice. “There must be something off with the chemical mix. That’s not supposed to happen.”
Manny turned his face slowly to his employer. “Mr. Waverly, you are one dumb mother fucker.” He turned to go back to his car.
“Where are you going?”
“I quit. Consider this my two week’s notice. My bank account is available anywhere.” He got in his car and drove away as fast as the dirt ribbon road would allow.
Richard stood and watched until Manny’s car was out of his sight.
He got back in his car, failing to notice the skulls had developed faces.
It was fully dark by the time we left the apartments. The three of us were exhausted and hungry. Auggie suggested dinner and some hot coffee. We drove down the street and went into the truck stop restaurant for both.
Auggie and I sat together on one side of the booth, Evelyn across from us. She was pensive and looked briefly at her menu, focusing her gaze out through the dark windows. The waitress poured coffee and served cream. I put sugar and cream in my cup. “Evelyn, there is no way you could have known.”
She signed, and looked at me. “I SHOULD have know, Maddy. I was married to him for many years, and he is a narcissistic bastard. I should have known.”
Auggie tried to comfort her. “Evelyn, my involvement included the girls’ confirmation of pregnancy. Given Richard’s past with women, I should have guessed it myself. I think I always wanted to believe that someone else was coming in to do that particular dirty deed. I see now that one of the lovely effects of being drunk all the time was a lack of notice of anything at all. I apologize to you, dearest lady, with all my heart.”
Evelyn, ever gracious, answered simply. “I forgive you, Auggie. I cannot blame anyone in this mess except Richard. To be honest, I hope he goes straight to Hell – and soon.”
The waitress returned and took our orders. We ate with little conversation. When she returned for the empty plates, Evelyn spoke once more. “I’ve been thinking, while we ate – if you two are up to it, I’d like to pay Tony Lozano a visit. I feel he owes me a few answers.”
Auggie and I looked at each other, and nodded. “We’re in,” I said.
Evelyn gave excellent directions, and we soon pulled up in the driveway of Tony’s house. The first thing I noticed was the darkness, and t
he front door standing open. Curtains at the large front window seemed to be missing.
Auggie went inside, refusing to let us follow him. We heard him walking around and then several lights came on. “Come on in, there’s no one here. But there is something you’ll want to see.” He came to us and led us through the foyer back to the den.
The carpet in front of the couch showed a recent blood stain, and a roll of duct tape lay on the floor. “Looks like Richard’s work,” Auggie said sadly.
Evelyn sighed, deeply. “If Tony and he argued, and Richard felt any kind of betrayal at all, I’m sure it is. Those two knew where all the bodies are buried.” She looked over at the desk and saw the laptop.
She went over, picked it up, and held it close to her body. “This may tell us the rest of what we need to know. Maddy dear, see if you can find the power cord. I don’t want it to run out of battery before I rape it.”
32
The faces watched as the Pit began to change.
The level of the muck contained within the boundaries of the Pit began rising. It was slow, gradual but insistent. The original level was about two feet below the far edge of the pier. The expanding corrosives leached and bled the side of the Pit until their level reached the same as the pier, and swallowed it.
Auggie drove us back to the Junction. It was cold, late, very dark, and windy. The new moon was in cycle, and there was no natural light – only the glare of the four nightwatchers, sodium arc street lights – to light the parking lots. Three semis idled in the truck parking area, their diesel engines rumbling. On the roof of the building, JOHNSON JUNCTION glowed in green and white. The rooms in the housing row were dark and silent. The gas station on the east end of the property was the only building illuminated, open tonight.
Johnson Junction Page 15