by Lyle Howard
The old man rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Tell me.”
Matt tapped his finger on the table. “The first thing I need you to do for me is to call Hope. I’m not sure she’ll talk to me.”
“Hope Jannick? Why? Why aren’t you dealing with the police?”
Matt stood up and began pacing. “I confided in the two officers that were here the other day because they are working the case from another angle. They told me they were investigating another murder that has a lot in common with the way mom and dad were killed.”
“You mean the baseball bat? You’ve never told anyone about that.”
Matt was thinking about his time in the interrogation room. “One of the cops is a forensics expert, and the woman detective is very sharp.”
Dave Walker’s eyes tracked his grandson as he walked the kitchen floor. “A baseball bat doesn’t seem like your everyday choice of weapon.”
Matt paused to pick up a dish towel and began to twist it nervously in his hands. “I don’t believe that mom and dad were the only people this man has murdered. I could sense that he’s not retired from killing either. It’s what he does. Baseball is just his cover.”
“That’s ironic.”
“Not ironic, it’s ingenious,” Matt added. “And like I said, the fact that the last body was found only a few weeks ago leads me to think that he’s still killing.”
His grandfather looked at him quizzically. “So why Hope Jannick? How long has it been since you’ve seen or talked to her? I’m not an expert on women, but didn’t you dump her when you started seeing Simone? What makes you think that she wants anything to do with you?”
Matt shrugged. “Actually, we parted on pretty good terms. While she had absolutely no problem with my deafness, I think deep down she had decided that we were moving in two different directions. We just grew further apart as we developed our own circle of friends.”
Dave Walker took the last swig from his bottle of apple ale. “So, other than complicating your love life, how can Hope help you?”
Matt sat back down at the table and tossed the dishtowel onto the counter. “Her father still works for Mason Cruise Lines, just like dad used to.”
“And?”
“And I want her to get me onboard one of their ships.”
“Why?”
“Because Saturday night Peter Mason is hosting a celebration to drum up support for his new baseball franchise, and the party is taking place aboard his newest ship, the Hydra. I need Hope to get me a job on that ship. I don’t care if it’s washing dishes or busing tables, I just need to be onboard.”
“Again, why?” His grandfather asked.
“The Hydra will be buzzing with celebrities and dignitaries, including the players and staff from his baseball team. The man who killed mom and dad will probably be one of the invited guests!”
Dave Walker couldn’t hide his concern. “And what are you gonna do if he’s on the ship, confront him? Take him down single-handedly? This isn’t some action movie, Matthew. Real life doesn’t work like that, and the choices we make have consequences. I’d like revenge as much as you would, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk losing another member of my family to that psychopath.”
Matt drew in a deep breath. “I’ve thought about that, grandpa, but I’m living proof that he makes mistakes.”
“No offense, but you’d never hear him coming!” The old man argued.
Matt nodded. “I realize that. That’s why I’m bringing Simone with me.”
“What?” His grandfather exclaimed. “She can’t hear either! She barely reads lips! Why would you involve her in this?”
Matt’s attitude never wavered. “I trust her, Grandpa. She’ll have my back.”
Dave Walker held up his hands in opposition. “That is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and there is no way in hell that I’m going to let you drag that beautiful young woman on this cockamamie adventure of yours! Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his finger, “that’s not going to happen!”
“I haven’t even asked her yet.”
“Then don’t.”
Matt sat in silence mulling over his grandfather’s concerns. “I’m leaving that decision up to Simone. The police know I lied to them. If they’re as smart as I think they are, then they’re already piecing together the evidence they’ve found. I’m the one that can connect the dots for them, but they can’t make an arrest based on a vision. They’re going to need hard evidence, and right now my insight has given me the advantage. I need to get onto that ship.”
The old man scratched at the stubble on his face. “And you think Hope Jannick will come through for you? Have you even talked to her since you started going out with Simone?”
Matt winced. “No, it’s been awhile, but I think she’ll help us,” he said, trying to sound confident. “I’d be there for her if she ever needed me, and she knows it.”
Dave Walker crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a lot to learn about women, kid.”
“Please, grandpa, just call her for me.”
The old man leaned forward. “No. You’re going to call her. You need to ask her yourself.”
Matt put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I need to talk to her.”
“And there’s no way I can talk you out of this?” His grandfather asked.
Matt didn’t answer.
“And you’re going to do this no matter what I say, aren’t you?”
Matt nodded. “Yes, sir. I am.”
Dave Walker frowned in defeat. This was no longer a floundering teenager he was looking at. This was a determined young man. “You are definitely your father’s son.”
Matt managed a slight smile.
The old man put his pinky to his mouth and his thumb to his ear. “Telephone” was one of the very few words in sign language he had ever bothered to learn. “Here’s the deal, take it or leave it.”
Matt concentrated on his grandfather’s mouth as he spoke. “You’re going to Skype Hope Jannick right now. If she can get you onboard lawfully, then I’ll let you go. Your grandmother would kill me for doing this, but come first thing Sunday morning, we’re skipping church services, and you’re going to tell the police everything you know, understood?”
Matt was certain that Hope would come through for him. Well, almost certain. Well, maybe seventy percent. “You’ve got a deal,” he agreed, shaking his grandfather’s hand. Seventy percent would have to do for now.
41
It was still early for a weeknight, and the pulsating bass rhythms inside the One Eleven Club hadn’t started to pound yet. The dreadlocked D.J. was still unpacking his equipment and checking over his evening’s playlist. Across the dance floor, nine bartenders at three separate bars were carefully slicing lemons and other citrus fruits for the mad rush of patrons expected in the next two hours when the club doors finally opened. Everything appeared to be running smoothly at one of the most popular nightspots in downtown Jacksonville. But in the executive office at the rear of the club, it was anything but business as usual.
Jaime Diaz sat in a plush red leather armchair with his legs crossed, sipping a malt whiskey and watching the ESPN app on his phone. The office was quiet except for the sound of running water coming from the bathroom across the room. Nicholas Coltello was always washing his hands, almost to the point of germaphobia. A weird affectation, considering how often they were drenched in other people’s blood.
Nicky came out of the bathroom drying his hands on a paper towel. He balled the sheet into a small wad and threw it at the trash can next to his desk. He missed his target by nearly two feet. “Not even close,” Diaz commented.
“Must be a draft in here,” Coltello countered as he walked around his desk and sat down.
“Must have been a pretty strong d
raft to miss that badly,” Diaz admitted. “Category one hurricane at least.”
Coltello leaned back in his chair and began cracking his knuckles one at a time. The sound was annoying, so Diaz turned up his phone’s volume to drown it out.
“Anything on the sports channels?” Coltello asked.
Diaz took a sip from his glass. One of the perks of his job was being able to afford the smoothest whiskey. It went down like a royal flush. “It’s been mentioned here or there, but I haven’t seen any highlights yet. It seems like they’re treating it as a non-story.”
Nicky paused at his forefinger. “Are you watching national or local?”
“ESPN.”
Coltello looked at his watch. “We’ll probably have to wait until eleven for local news. Too late for the early news.”
Diaz nodded. “You’re probably right. Didn’t get back in time for the six o’clock sports.”
Coltello tapped his fingertips together. “What did you think about today?”
Diaz shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed like a success.”
“What about that kid running out onto the field before the game?” Coltello chuckled. “That was hysterical.”
“Kid was just being a kid,” Diaz mused.
“So you think it was enough to put the deal over the top?”
Diaz turned off the sports app and slipped his phone into his jacket. “I don’t know what the Commissioner of Baseball is thinking. The other owners will still have to vote on it anyway.”
Coltello shook his head. “We can’t let it get that far. There is no way in hell I’ll let them break ground on the concrete field. I’ve lost track of how many we’ve buried there.”
“We?” Diaz asked.
“We!” Coltello corroborated. “If this stadium breaks ground, we’re all fucked.”
Diaz uncrossed his legs and set his glass down on a nearby table. “We tried to stop it in the city council, and our key vote was killed.”
Coltello bristled. “I know that bastard Mason was behind that. If we could prove he had something to do with it...”
“The cops are all over it,” Diaz interrupted. “You can’t kill a city commissioner and not expect a full investigation. If Mason was behind it, then whoever he hired is a pro. Maybe I can check it out from that angle.”
Coltello waggled his finger. “Make some calls. See what you can find out.”
Diaz picked a piece of lint off his trouser leg. “I can ask around, but if the cops had any leads, they would have made an arrest already. I can check out a few of my contacts.”
“Then we need a plan B,” Coltello said, rising to his feet and moving around to the front of his desk. “I want to meet with Mason face to face. Maybe I can use my lavish sense of style and my abundance of panache to make him see the error of his ways.”
Diaz winced. “Did you just use the words ‘abundance’ and ‘panache’ in the same sentence?”
“I am not an animal!” Coltello declared, mimicking the famous ‘Elephant Man’ quote.
“Why would Mason take a meeting with you?” Diaz asked, looking up suspiciously at his boss.
“I’m not going to ask for a meeting, Jimmy. I don’t ask for meetings. People just see me.”
Diaz rolled his eyes. “This is the real world, Nicky. You can’t bully your way into Peter Mason’s office. You have to be discreet and stay under the radar. There’s too much at stake.”
Nicky the Knife stood quietly for a moment while he considered his options. “Then I’ll have to meet him in public…like a chance meeting that’s really not.”
Diaz needed another drink…fast. “I don’t understand what you’re suggesting.”
“Simple,” Coltello said, leaning on the edge of his desk. “I want you to call Gerald Banks and get us two invitations for Mason’s party Saturday night. Tell Banks that this is not a request, but a demand.”
“On the Hydra?”
Coltello shrugged. “Why not? It’s the perfect place! Hundreds of people will be getting snockered. We’ll get to mingle with the hoi-polloi! It’s as public as you can get. Just get us on that boat, and I’ll make sure I get a few minutes of quality time with Peter Mason.”
Diaz looked skeptical. “And you think you can change Mason’s mind in a few minutes?”
“And you don’t?” Coltello smiled, slyly.
Diaz frowned. “I don’t know, Nicky. You’re gonna have to leave your hammer home.”
42
The lights inside the Walker house flashed on and off each time Simone Goodman pressed the front doorbell.
“Are you expecting someone?” Matt’s grandfather asked.
Matt stood up from the table and headed out of the kitchen. “I asked Simone to come over. I haven’t told her anything yet. She deserves an explanation, and I want to be honest with her.”
Dave Walker caught his grandson by the wrist. “It’s almost ten o’clock. Do you really want to involve Simone in all this?”
The lights continued to flicker. “Please, grandpa, you’ve got to trust me on this. Simone understands me better than anyone. I really care about her, and I don’t want to keep any secrets.”
“But you’re still going to call Hope Jannick?”“I’m going upstairs to Skype with her as soon as I let Simone in.”
The old man looked confused. “So you’re planning on talking to your ex-girlfriend with your new girlfriend sitting in the same room?”
Matt never thought twice about it. “Sure. Why not?”
“You realize that you’re making a video call, right? So, you don’t care if Hope sees Simone?”
“Hope knows all about Simone,” Matt assured his grandfather. “She’s fine with it. We’ve both moved on.”
Dave Walker scratched his forehead. “Really? I’ve never been more confused. Things sure have changed since I was dating your grandmother. She would have kicked my butt.”
“I’m sure she would have,” Matt concurred, with a sympathetic smile. “But don’t worry, Grandpa. I know what I’m doing.”
Dave Walker released his grandson’s wrist. He could hear Barb’s voice whispering to him, telling him to have faith in the boy. “Okay, kiddo. Good luck. Just let me know what Hope says.”
Matt sprinted across the living room and opened the front door. “I’m sorry,” he signed by circling a fist over his heart. “I was talking to my grandfather. I didn’t mean to make you wait so long. Come in,” he signed, holding the front door open. As Simone walked past him, Matt swatted away a bunch of pesky gnats that were drawn to the porch light. He took in a deep breath as she entered the house. She smelled great.
Simone had changed her clothes and showered. She was wearing gray sweatpants with the word “juicy” written in large pink letters down her left leg. She wore a light pink V-neck tee shirt that fell comfortably over her curves. Her long black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin accentuated her middle-eastern appearance, even though her genealogy was pure French Canadian.
“Is your grandfather here?” she signed, as she stepped into the living room.
Matt chuckled. “Where else would he be?”
Simone laughed too. “Have you talked to him?”
Matt’s hands moved gracefully as he signed. “I told him everything, and now I want to tell you.”
Simone tried not to blush, but it didn’t work. “I’m glad,” she signed back.
“I have to warn you,” Matt gestured. “If you don’t want to get involved, I would fully understand, but I have to see this thing through. I would just appreciate you keeping what I tell you just between us.”
Simon took a step back. “You’re scaring me a little.”
Matt moved forward and hugged her reassuringly. “I don’t mean to,” he signed. “It’s just that I have to see this thing through, no matter what happens.”
“Then tell me everything,” Simon signed, never breaking eye contact with Matt. “Let me decide.”
The couple took a seat on the couch and Matt began to reveal his story. He signed steadily, only interrupted once when his grandfather walked into the room, waved to them, and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. Simone sat engrossed by what Matt was telling her. The room was eerily quiet, except for the slapping of hands and the guttural sounds Matt tended to make when he signed. Usually he would speak aloud as he signed, but Simone’s hearing was beyond saving, even with the latest cochlear implant technology. She had been tested many times, but was never a candidate for the procedure. The problem was not a hearing loss, but a physical birth defect in both her inner ears.
When he finished, Matt studied Simone’s face to see if he could glean her reaction.
“You’re positive this is the same man?” she signed.
“Positive.” Matt signed confidently.
Simone’s mouth wiggled back and forth as she reminded herself that everything she had just been told was based on something unexplainable. “Sneaking back into the locker room would have been really dangerous. I’m glad you changed your mind. To be honest, I’m not sure about the boat part either. Maybe you should just leave this to the police.”
“Even if these two policemen believe what I tell them, they can’t raid the Hydra based on my visions.”
Simone couldn’t hide her concern. She hated to state the obvious, but maybe it was time for Matt to have a reality check. “And if Magnetti is on the ship, what are you going to do when you find him?”
“I don’t know.” Matt signed.
Simone frowned. “That’s not much of a plan.”
“That’s all I have for now. I don’t even know if Hope can get me onboard.”
“You mean us, right?” She said, forcefully emphasizing the word “us.”
Matt put his hand on her cheek. “You don’t have to come with me. I can do this alone.”
Simone looked worried, but she wasn’t afraid, knowing that they would be together. “Of course I’m going with you,” she signed. “I just have to figure out what I’m going to tell my father.”