Stories by Kiera Dellacroix

by Dellacroix, Kiera

  Billy came to a halt and opened the door to Gus's office. "No rush, Maddie. Give me a call when you're to ready to go and I'll come back down."

  "Thanks, Billy," I said quietly as I slipped inside the room. He shut the door behind me and I was alone. I noted the closed blinds and the boxes stacked in front of the desk. Apparently, Billy had prepared for my arrival. Gus always kept the blinds open.

  I circled the desk and plopped down in the chair with a thud. My eyes slowly roamed the little room, seeing things I previously didn't think twice about. Gus had a lot of awards and citations that decorated the walls. It wasn't the typical 'I love me' display, for it included his kids. There were framed photocopies of about every award or diploma Woody and I ever received. Pictures of us were on almost every surface that could support them. My eyes landed on one in particular.

  It had been taken the evening of my thirteenth birthday. A couple had snapped a picture of us with a Polaroid as Gus carried me piggyback toward the parking lot. The man had simply walked up and handed Gus the photo.

  Back then; I was relatively new to Gus and still very uncertain of things. Suddenly finding yourself living in a different country with a new family was a sluggish process to adjust to, especially for a child. He gave me everything I wanted or needed, but I was a little slow to come around. I soon learned that what I really needed and desperately wanted was a parent. The picture I was looking at was taken on the day I realized I had a father. It was the best day of my life.

  Gus had rousted me out of bed and hurried me through a morning routine. Energized about something he would only hint at, I was spirited to the car and he drove a couple of hours, entertaining me the whole time with an endless stream of stupid jokes. Eventually we arrived at his surprise and I was awestruck. The State Fair was Disneyland for as far as I was concerned, I'd never seen anything like it. We spent the entire time going from ride to ride, only taking a break to stuff ourselves with junk food before rushing off to the next one. I chattered constantly, excitedly dragging him from one place to another until I was sure there was nothing left to do or see.

  I fell asleep on the way home, having used up a month's supply of energy in one day. Awaking only when he tucked me into bed that night, still half asleep but remembering clearly when he said he loved me. It was the first time I ever heard the words, and I knew then that I had a home.

  I could count the times he had said it on both my hands. He didn't say it very often, but each time he did, it only meant that much more. He didn't give his love lightly, but he loved all the way.

  I was a lot like him and had adopted more than a few of his personality traits but this was one I could've passed on. I wish I could tell him now how much I love him. I wish I had told him more often. I hope he knew how much he meant to me. How much I miss him. I wish,

  The tears came suddenly and I buried my head in my hands, waiting for them to run their course.

  IV

  I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, carefully wrapping the more fragile stuff in newspaper when my cell phone rang. I'd been in the office a few hours, lost in memories and oblivious to anything but the task in front of me. I reluctantly dug the phone from my pocket.

  "Maddie, Porter is on the way," Billy said.

  "Great."

  "Don't make it worse than it is."

  Good advice. "I'll do my best, Billy. Thanks."

  I put the phone back in my pocket and wiped at my face, the sobbing might have stopped, but I had no control over the tears that continued to leak from my eyes. It occurred to me suddenly that I didn't give a shit. He was my Dad and I loved him. I was allowed to grieve him, goddamn it.

  A knock came at the door and I didn't bother to acknowledge it. He would come in anyway. Sure enough, he poked his head in a second later.

  "Maddie," he said, entering the office and closing the door behind him.

  I didn't look up. "Glen."

  I could almost hear him stiffen at the casual address and I sighed, maybe I should try and heed Billy's advice.

  He took a seat in the chair next to the door, crossing one leg over the other primly. He was a little man with feminine mannerisms and a bad comb over.

  "I bet you think I'm here to bust your balls?"

  I shrugged. It was what I expected.

  "I'll admit the thought did cross my mind," he said amiably. "But that would only make me out to be the prick you think I am."

  Gee, was that an opening or what? I clamped down on the impulse to jump all over the opportunity with both barrels. With an effort, I remained silent.

  After a long pause, he chuckled. "I can't believe you passed that up."

  I almost grinned. "Me either."

  He laughed. "Alright, I'm not here to make any apologies," he said. "Your situation was a bad one with no simple solution, and the fact of the matter is, we were both wrong. You were wrong because you damn near beat that man to death, and no matter what he said or did, it was your job to enforce the law, not break it."

  There was no arguing with that, and I gave a little nod of concession. It was the closest I've ever come to admitting any culpability.

  "And I should have handled the situation differently. My job requires an unfortunate amount of political wrangling and I made some bad decisions. Regardless of what you may believe, that tape came as a surprise to me. If I had known about it sooner, I wouldn't have tolerated your crucifixion. "

  It took me a moment to digest this. "Why are you telling me this now?"

  "Because you deserve to hear it and because Gus would've wanted me to say it."

  My eyebrows climbed into my bangs. "Thank you."

  "You have fewer enemies than you realize, but you'd be remiss to think you have none," he said, rising to his feet. "Gus was damn good man, one of the best I've ever known and, believe it or not, I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

  I could only manage a nod and he left the room without another word, closing the door behind him. The next few moments were spent in a somewhat stunned contemplation. It was like finding out that the turd you were served for dinner didn't taste all that bad. People were elusive creatures, just when you thought you had them pinned down; they always found a way to surprise you.

  Another knock on the door.

  "Come on in, Billy."

  He entered warily and slowly took a seat in the same chair Glen had just exited. "Uh, everything okay?"

  "Yeah."

  He leaned over and studied me. "Jesus, Maddie," he sighed. "I told Woody I'd clean out the office. You didn't have to do this."

  "That's not what Woody said. It doesn't matter though, it's been good for me."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah."

  He reached into his jacket and retrieved a handkerchief. "You've got mascara all over."

  I snatched it from his hand and rubbed at my face. "Shit. That damn Porter saw me like this."

  I didn't have to look to see the smile. "How'd that go?"

  "It turns out he's not the dickhead I thought he was."

  "Well," he snickered. "There's something I thought I'd never hear you say."

  I shrugged and turned to look at him. "Did I get it all?"

  "Most of it."

  I went back to work.

  "Anything you want to tell me?" he asked. "I'll have ballistics for you tomorrow on the gun you gave me."

  "That's fine, I doubt it's the one I'm looking for. And no, I don't have any real suspects yet. You got anything for me on Sabrina DiCarlo?"

  "I got reams of stuff on Salvotore but next to nothing on her."

  "A picture at least?"

  "Nothing even remotely recent."

  "Can I see what you have? Gus was poking around in the DiCarlo mystery."

  "You looking for something in particular?"

  "I really don't know. Almost everybody Gus had over that night had dealings with DiCarlo."

  "I'll get something together for you. I'm heading up the investigation for the department and have alr
eady come under some pressure for dragging my heels. Keep me in the know so I can make myself look good, okay?"

  "I will."

  "You already talk to everyone there that night?"

  "Yeah."

  "Soooo," he purred. "What did you think of Anabel?"

  I stopped my grooming and shot him a glare. "For Christ sake, you too?"

  He laughed at me and I threw the handkerchief at him. "Come on, Maddie, gimme the story. Joey and I promised to fill each other in."

  "Aren't you two a little old for gossip?"

  He leaned back in his chair and waved to himself with both hands. "Give it to me."

  I ignored him.

  He snorted amusedly. "Did you like her?"

  Much to my dismay, I began to redden.

  "Oh, my God. Is that a blush?"

  "No," I growled. "I'm on the rag. It's just a hot flash."

  "You never could lie worth a damn," he chortled happily. "I'll tell Joey we picked a winner. Did ya kiss her?"

  I rolled my eyes and scooted around on the floor so I wasn't facing him. "Would you please shut the fuck up?"

  Another gale of laughter at my expense. "For someone who comes across as tougher than a coffin nail, it's a riot to see you get all girly over your love life."

  I sighed. I'd heard it all before. My eyes fell to my watch and I jumped to my feet. "Shit. I'm supposed to meet Woody in half an hour."

  "Where at?" Billy asked, his chuckles finally tapering off.

  "Abernathy's. Help me pack up the rest?"

  "Sure," he said, sliding from his chair and taking a seat next to me on the floor. "Here, I'll finish wrapping this stuff."

  "Okay," I said, rising to my feet.

  I sat down in Gus's chair with the intention of going through the desk, but froze when my gaze returned to Billy.

  Unexpectedly, moisture again rose to my eyes. Here was a guy who had a million other things clamoring for his attention yet chose to ignore it all so he could be here with me. I looked at him sitting on the floor in his wrinkled suit, carefully wrapping picture frames, and I felt a moving wave of affection. It dawned on me then that I wasn't near as alone as I thought, and my family was larger than I had previously realized.

  "You okay, Maddie?" he asked, and I blinked to find him looking at me curiously.

  I wiped at my eyes and shot him my best smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

  "Ya sure?"

  "Very."

  ----------

  I jogged into the lobby of Abernathy's a little over five minutes late and ran right smack into the disapproving glare of Woodrow Ledoux. He was a big, chubby guy with man breasts and a head of dark hair that would've made Elvis Presley jealous. Other than the brown eyes, Woody didn't take after Gus, physically or in any other way, they got along only because they both made the effort.

  "Glad you could make it, Maddie," he said in his holier than thou voice.

  "Sorry," I said brusquely, hoping to avoid a confrontation.

  "Are you planning on being late to the funeral too?"

  That pissed me off. "Don't fuck with me today, Woodrow."

  We spent a few seconds indulging in a spaghetti western stare down, a game he not only sucked at, but always lost. He kept his record intact by releasing a sigh and looking away.

  "That was uncalled for, I apologize."

  "Yes, it was," I agreed. "Apology accepted," I couldn't help but add condescendingly.

  His eyes flashed. "Do you wanna fight?"

  "Do you? I'm not the one who made a shitty comment the second I walked in the door."

  "You were late."

  "So? I'm here now, aren't I?"

  "Yes, you are. Surprisingly enough."

  "What should be surprising is the fact you could take a break from defending the poor, oppressed masses from the imagined evils of The Man, long enough to be having this stupid argument with me."

  He ground his teeth. "You're not wrong. This is a stupid argument."

  "If I'm not wrong, then I'm right, and other than gorgeous, it's my favorite thing to be."

  Anger battled briefly with amusement. It was a close call, but he finally chuckled. "Alright, goddamn it. I was being a prick. Can we just let it go?"

  I shrugged indifferently. "Sure."

  He stomped off a few paces, performing his standard indignant lawyer routine. "Jesus, you make it so hard," he exclaimed, raising his arms in plea to a higher power.

  "What do you want from me? A fuckin' benediction?"

  He didn't answer and turned away, walking over to stand in front of a casket with his back to me. I rolled my eyes and waited for him to emerge from his sulk, casually looking around and finding no interest whatsoever in the surroundings. I sighed. He was a bastard and I was a bitch. There was no getting around it but there was no harm in trying to ignore it, at least for a little while.

  I turned to apologize and came up short when I noticed his shoulders shaking. Suddenly ashamed of myself, I eased up behind him and placed a sympathetic hand on his back. Much to my surprise, I encountered eyes shining not with grief, but with mirth.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Do you remember old Tomaso's funeral?"

  My eyebrow's knit. "I don't think so."

  "Sure you do," he said. "Gasbag Tomaso?"

  I let out a quick bark of laughter, the nickname igniting the memory instantly. Tomaso had been a local mafia icon for as long as I could remember. A crotchety, vindictive old man that had lived to the ripe old age of ninety-six. He was such a nasty son of a bitch that all the neighborhood kids were terrified of him. When I was growing up, his little house at the end of the street was generally thought of as a portal to Hell, and was avoided like a hooker with a 'Herpes' tattoo. If one were unlucky enough to get too close, the old man, who spent most of his day in a rocker on the porch, would scream profanities and throw garbage at you.

  He acquired the nickname 'Gasbag' sometime during the last few years of his life. Tomaso went senile and developed a deafening, chronic case of gas that made nuclear fallout seem harmless. The family, of course, took care of him, but fights often broke out between the wise guys over whose turn it was to watch over him. Nobody wanted to stay in a house that smelled like a sulfur factory with an old man, that when he was lucid, took his misery out on anyone unfortunate enough to be within range.

  Finally, the old bastard kicked the bucket and received a funeral with honors. As malicious as Tomaso had been, he'd also been an old school gangster who defined loyalty and, out of respect, the family had shown up in force.

  When Father O'Brien opened his mouth to begin the service, someone in the crowd made a generous and shockingly loud fart noise that echoed throughout the room. A stunned silence followed in its wake, everyone afraid to even breathe. It was the Father himself that finally broke, emitting a strangled titter of laughter that instigated an avalanche. It was the only funeral I've ever attended where there truly wasn't a dry eye in the house.

  "How could I forget?" I said. "What brought that to mind?"

  "No clue, it just popped into my head."

  I snickered. "I've always wondered who was to blame for that."

  He smiled. "You don't know?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "You mean you never fell prey to Joey's whoopee cushion?"

  I gaped at him. "Joey?"

  He nodded amusedly. "Yeah, Dad finally ended up taking it away from him."

  "That's hilarious."

  "You remember O'Brien scolding everybody for laughing?"

  I chuckled. "Yeah, he yelled at us and then giggled all the way through his sermon."

  "The damn pallbearers stumbled the casket out to the hearse laughing so hard they almost dropped it."

  We roared at the recollection and were still at it when one of the junior Abernathy's entered the lobby and addressed us.

  "Woodrow and Matilda Ledoux?"

  "That's us," Woody said, wiping at his eyes.

  The ghoul started to give us
a well-oiled look of compassion but it changed quickly to confusion when he realized we were laughing, not crying. "Uhm, if you'll come with me?"

  We got ourselves together and followed after him. I was startled when Woody grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

  "I'm sorry, Maddie."

  I squeezed him back. "Me too."

  ----------

  I sped all the way back to my loft and hurriedly carried all the boxes from Gus's office up the stairs. I was running late. The appointment at Abernathy's had taken longer than expected. I stacked everything next to the kitchen counter and discarded my clothes on the way to the shower. Sarah was due to show up in less than an hour so I rushed through my routine.

  After I dried off and got into some underwear, I paused while surveying my possible choices of attire. Should I go for casual or something sexy? Of course, it didn't really matter. You could dip me in babyshit and I'd still be the bomb. With that in mind, I decided on the usual jeans and shirt and hastily headed for the mirror to fix my face. Not that it needed fixing, just a few touches to highlight my natural magnificence.

  The doorbell rang as I was tying back my hair and I felt a little jolt of excitement. My last date had been so long ago that it was only a barely recognizable memory. However, I could clearly recall how it had ended and I decided to put an extra effort into softening my admittedly abrasive edges. No need to scare another one away. I was desperate but then again, I always had Stephanie to fall back on. She'd never leave me. She was smart enough to know she had a good thing.

  My hand was a foot away from the door, when it struck me that my place was a mess and generally resembled a Gypsy landfill. I chewed on my lip for a second and then hastily ran into the kitchen to get my jacket and gun. Coming to the conclusion that it would be better if she didn't come in.

  I opened the door and quickly stepped outside, closing it behind me and forcing her to back up a step.

  "Hi!" I said brightly.

  "Hi," she giggled. "I guess the place is a mess?"

  "Uhm, was I that obvious?"

  "Nah," she scoffed. "You look great."