by Jessie Cooke
“Brock. But Maddox is fine.”
She acted like she didn’t hear him and went on. “He’s a private dick from...? Where did you say you were from?”
“California,” he said.
“Long way from home,” Petit said.
Maddox nodded. “I was invited. There are some people here who are worried about Louis Breaux and Brigette Babineaux, rightfully so, I think.”
“Anyway,” Stone said, drawing attention back to herself. “He says he has information for us.” She rested her eyes on Maddox’s face and said, “So what is it that you have to tell us?”
“It’s about the video surveillance cameras you collected from the vendors nearby the butcher shop.” She continued to stare at him with disinterested eyes. He smiled again, amused by her “hard” act. She folded her arms when he smiled, and said:
“Okay...?” Kind of like, “We don’t have all day.”
“They’re worthless.”
She glanced at Petit and with a slight roll of her eyes she said, “And you know this...how?”
“I’m afraid I can’t comment on my sources,” he said. She scoffed at that and gave him a full eye roll.
“I thought you were a rent-a-cop, not a journalist.”
“Private investigator,” he corrected. “And my clients and sources are confidential. But I do like to do my part, so I’m here to tell you that I think those videos were altered. If I had to guess, I’d say that you’re looking at surveillance from the day before or the day after the disappearance and the day of has been omitted completely.”
“They’re time and date stamped,” Petit said.
“Time and date stamps can be changed, if someone has enough money to pay a talented computer tech.”
“So you think these were changed...by whom?” Stone asked.
“Afraid I can’t say,” he said, netting him another cold stare.
In a slightly warmer tone Petit asked, “Then what is the point in you coming here?”
“I assume that you’ve been chasing down leads based on those surveillance videos, and if that’s the case, then you’re just wasting your time and I’d hate to know that and not share with you. I want Louis and Brigette found as soon as possible, as I’m sure you do as well...”
“So you’re going to share a pointless tidbit of information with us? Unless we know who altered the videos, your information is worthless,” Stone said.
“Well, not worthless. I’m sure you’ve already spoken to people who have denied they weren’t anywhere near there on Sunday morning...and yet you have them on video. So you either spent too much time trying to get them to tell the ‘truth’ or you’ve spent too much time wondering why the video doesn’t match up with what people have been telling you. You might have already figured out they were altered...but now you know, so you can stop wasting your time,” Maddox told her.
“Tell us who altered them if you really want to stop wasting our time,” she said. “Otherwise, all we have is your word, and since we don’t know you, I’m afraid that doesn’t mean much.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said, shaking his head. “But I’m afraid my clients wouldn’t agree to me sharing information with you.” He hesitated for several seconds and then said, “That is...unless we were getting something back in return...you know, something that might help us out on our end. Our goal is the same here, isn’t it? We both want these people found, safely?”
“Oh, here we go,” Stone said. “I knew you weren’t here being a good Samaritan...and I know you’re working for that MC. So why don’t you just put it out there so we can tell you now and we can all get on with our day? What is it that you want?”
“I want to see those tapes. All of them. I know you have them from a week before the disappearance. You let me review them and I’ll tell you exactly who collected those surveillance videos, altered them, and then put them back a day before you got there to confiscate them.”
“Or...I could hold you for withholding evidence,” Stone said. Maddox glanced at Petit, rolled his eyes, and smiled. That seemed to piss her off even more, and it was what he was going for. He was splitting them and he’d have what he wanted and be out of there before they even realized it. “You don’t think I will?”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that you’d try, but it would never stick.” Another glance at Petit, who seemed to be trying to keep his expression neutral. “See, if you did have me arrested, I’d just deny that I really knew anything and I’d be out in a few days with a citation and when I came back for court some poor, overworked assistant district attorney, or a smart judge, would throw the whole thing out. So...if you’d like to waste all of our time, by all means, go right ahead.”
“Maybe it was you,” Stone said. “Maybe you did something to those people and had the videos altered.”
“Good guess, Detective,” he said, sarcastically. “But I was in California when they went missing. I don’t know either of them, so I’ve got no motive. I suppose you could say I had the means to abduct them...anyone could rent a car or van...but I didn’t and you can check that out via my credit cards. And since I don’t know either victim, I wouldn’t have any motive either. So, Detective, I am not even in the least a viable suspect, and trying to make me one will further waste your time.”
She shook her head and sighed. “Fine, just tell us who altered the videos and...”
“Nope. Sorry. I need to see them first.”
“And we just trust you?” Stone asked with a snort.
“Yeah, sometimes you just have to have a little faith.” She was trying to set him on fire with her eyes, but when Petit said:
“You can see them.” That smoldering look from Detective Stone was transferred to her partner’s face.
While the detectives had whispered words between them, Maddox watched the videotapes. It was about one hundred and sixty-eight hours of video from four different vendors. He didn’t have that kind of time, so he concentrated on the closest ones, and the days leading up to the disappearances. Louis was, of course, in all of them. He could be seen coming and going from his shop about the same time every day, except the last day, which showed him leaving around 4 p.m., which was what Gianni said Frankie saw him do. That was the day Maddox believed was actually Saturday and not Sunday...the day the butcher and Brigette really went missing. He fast-forwarded through a lot of it, stopping when he saw anything interesting. He saw a woman that he thought was Brigette go into the bakery several times, and he also saw her walking into the butcher shop with Louis on more than one occasion. The other thing that interested him was that he didn’t see any sign of anyone who looked like Gianni, but there was another man, early in the week before the disappearances, who looked to be a slightly less well-groomed version of Gianni. Maddox thought it was safe to assume it was Frank, especially because the man was going from store to store. He’d stay in each one anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes, and then head on over to the next. He was also carrying a fairly large canvas bag on his shoulder. He wasn’t seen again until six days later. He went into the butcher shop, carrying that same bag, and came back out maybe half an hour later...then the video showed Frank coming out, locking up, and leaving. It would be just about the time Gianni told him the butcher left that day...but something about the video didn’t look right. Maddox had the feeling he was looking at the exact spot where they’d altered it. Frank’s going in had been added, probably from Sunday morning; he was never there Saturday. Everyone only knew Louis left early that day because they’d watched the videos before somebody “fixed” them. Whatever Louis left for that afternoon, Maddox was sure he was back on Sunday morning, and so was Brigette...but he doubted anyone would ever find the video evidence to prove that.
He scanned the video as best as he could and after a couple of hours decided he’d seen everything he needed to see. When he finished, the detectives were waiting for him. “Okay, you got what you wanted, now...” Stone said. Maddox could tell that she didn’t expect him to f
ollow through with his part, but at this point, he had nothing to lose and he wanted everyone to be on the same page, if it meant finding the two missing people.
“Talk to Gianni Tucci and a guy who works for him named Frank. I’m not sure because I haven’t seen him, but I think Frank was in one of the videos from last week. Looks like he shows up to ‘collect’ on Sundays. In the last video, it looks like he’s back again on Saturday afternoon...I think that’s Sunday’s tape. I think Louis opened his shop Sunday morning and for some reason the Tuccis didn’t want anyone to know Frankie was there. Can I ask who has control of access to that butcher shop while Louis is missing?”
“No one,” Petit said. “We did a sweep of the place when he was reported missing and locked it back up.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t find anything? No traces of blood or...”
“It’s a butcher shop,” Stone said, sarcastically. Maddox laughed and said:
“I guess you got me there.” He wasn’t averse to admitting when he’d been outwitted.
Before he left he was told by Stone, in no uncertain terms, to stay out of their way when it came to the investigation. He simply smiled and nodded a lot, grateful when he finally got out of the stuffy office, but regretting that as soon as he stepped out into the humid, Louisiana air. He missed California. It got hot where he lived, but you didn’t walk around feeling like you’d just gotten out of a hot shower and forgotten to dry off.
He made his way to where he’d left his bike, taking out his phone as he did. He planned on calling Mario...he wanted that meeting set up with Frankie before the detectives got a hold of him. But as soon as he looked down at the phone, he was reminded about unfinished business. It was the text Carmella had sent earlier in response to his. It said, “No worries, it’s not like I missed your stupid face.” He laughed and that now familiar warmth once again flowed through his veins. Before calling her father he sent another message:
“I would say the same, but you would know I was lying. Coffee before you go to work?”
Seconds later the response was, “Coffee? In the daytime? Would that be like...a date?” He smiled again, but this time with an ache in his chest. He was going to tell her he couldn’t see her any longer...was he just making it worse by dragging things out? While he was thinking that over he got one more text that said, “Cafe du Monde at four?” Before his brain could tell his thumb what to do he’d already typed:
“Sounds good, see you then.” He told himself that it was good they’d be in public. He could do this...it wasn’t like he was going to be around much longer anyway. It wasn’t like either of them had expected this to go anywhere from the start...no matter how much he found himself wishing that it could.
12
“I’m sorry, Mr. Maddox, but Frank is out of town.”
Maddox was glad Mario couldn’t see his face through the phone because he was sure that the other man would be able to see how full of shit he thought he was. “Oh, a spur of the moment trip?” It was only the day before that Mario had promised to set up a meeting between the two men.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “His aunt, on his father’s side, is very ill. He had to go to Ohio to be with the family. I’m not sure how long he’ll be gone.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe he and I could have a talk on the phone?”
“I’m sure that would work,” Mario said. “I’ll pass your number along and ask him to call. I’m sorry but if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something when you called.” With a roll of his eyes Maddox said:
“Of course. I’ll look forward to Frank’s call.” He ended his call, knowing the other one would never come, especially because he was half sure that Petit and Stone were going to be knocking on Mario’s door before the day was out. Maddox drove from the police station to a small 50s style diner on the corner. Once inside, and while he waited for the malt he ordered, he called his friend Dean.
“Brock, how did I know I’d hear from you again before the day was over?”
Maddox chuckled. “Sorry, I was just wondering if you’d gotten anything on Louis’s son...Antonio?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Antonio is living in Biloxi. He’s not homeless either. Seems he has been working at a tire shop there for a few months now and he lives in an apartment attached to the shop.”
Biloxi was about an hour and a half drive from New Orleans. If Maddox left right then, he could be there just about noon. Depending on how the meet went, he might not make it back in time for coffee with Carmella, but work had to come first. He got Antonio’s address from Dean, thanked him, and took his chocolate malt to go.
The drive to Biloxi gave him more time to think about the situation with Carmella. In his imagination, he had an actual devil on one shoulder and angel on the other. The angel told him he couldn’t risk it. No, the car accident that killed his family wasn’t his fault, and going back further his younger sister’s dying of childhood leukemia wasn’t his fault either. It wasn’t his fault that losing a child drove his mother into a state of depression she never came out of, or his father constantly looking for the bottom of a bottle...but regardless, those things had all happened. After all of that, he’d found the army—his niche, or so he’d thought. He’d excelled at everything and by the time he’d been in two years and right after he’d married the love of his life, he was invited to help out on a mission with the Green Berets. The leader, a man whose very presence commanded respect, had been so impressed with him that he’d recruited him. Maddox had done another four years in Special Forces as a soldier before he was promoted to a leadership position. His squad was made up of eleven men and him...and they took down some of the most heinous terrorists in the world, rebuilt cities that were ravaged by war, escorted VIPs and kept them safe, and hundreds of other things that made him feel good about himself. He loved his team like they were his brothers, and although he missed his family, even being absent for the birth of his only child, he and Lizzie had made the long-distance thing work too. He was truly happy for the first time since he was fourteen years old and his little sister was diagnosed. That had been the beginning of the end of life as he knew it...but he was building a new life and figuring out that family didn’t always have to mean blood.
Maddox and his team had just gotten back from a mission in late 2014 and they were all prepared to head home to their families for some much-needed R & R when he made a decision that would forever alter the course of his life. He got a call from Donovan, his commander. There was an American plane that had gone down in Syria, behind enemy lines. The pilot was dead; the copilot was still alive for the time being, but if the enemy didn’t find him first, the elements would kill him. The temperatures were below freezing every day at that time and he was hiding out in the woods. Maddox and his team were the only ones Donovan trusted to go in after him, so Maddox had told his men they wouldn’t be going home...just yet...only to have to tell their families, only weeks later, that they’d never be coming home at all.
He made himself stop there. He didn’t want to think about what happened after that. The bottom line was that people near him died, and he wasn’t going to let his lust for Carmella ruin a beautiful young woman’s life.
He arrived in Biloxi before he knew it and found the tire shop easily. He asked the guy at the front desk for Antonio, telling him he was there about his father. Antonio Breaux was a short, stocky man with a handlebar moustache and long, dark hair that was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looked much older than what Maddox knew he was, but a life of drugs and homelessness would do that. “Mr. Breaux, my name is Maddox. I’m a private investigator from California...” Antonio ignored Maddox’s outstretched hand.
“California? Jimmy said this was about my dad. My old man’s never been out of Louisiana.”
“I’m working for a man in New Orleans, looking for his sister. Antonio, do you have any idea where your father is?”
He frowned and wiped his sweaty brow with a
blue mechanic’s cloth. He looked at the clock behind him on the wall and said, “At work, I’d guess. I haven’t talked to my old man in a while.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Antonio, but your father is missing.”
“Missing? What the fuck are you talking about?” Jimmy, the man who had gone to get Antonio for Maddox interrupted:
“Tony? Everything okay?”
The color had drained out of the stocky man’s face and he shook his head and looked at the manager. “I don’t know. This guy says my old man is missing.”
“Why don’t you take him back into the office,” Jimmy said, obviously concerned by the fact that there were customers milling around. Tony nodded again and without looking back at Maddox, he turned and walked toward the back. Maddox followed him into a small office with glass windows and they both sat down. Tony wiped sweat off his face again and said:
“What exactly do you mean, missing?”
“No one has seen or heard from him in about a week,” Maddox said. “There’s some confusion about whether or not he was last seen Saturday or Sunday, but that was the last time anyone saw him. He hasn’t opened up his shop and there’s been no activity on his cell phone or any of his credit cards.”
If Maddox had to guess, this was the first that Tony was hearing about his father being missing. His face was ghost-white pale and his hands shook even as he tried to hold them steady in his lap. “You said you were working for a man in NOLA? Who hired you to find my old man?”
“Well, to be honest I was asked to look for your dad by my friend Maz...”
“Zane Zimmerman?”
“Yes. I know him from out in California, and he asked me to look into it when he realized that a young woman had also gone missing at the same time.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Brigette Babineaux. Do you know her?”