Borne Darkly

by Lee Perry

  However, stealing truckloads of fish and lobsters would never be enough for Anthony Rossi, he preferred not to concern himself or his business with the middleman at all, and he began to focus on the tried and true tradition of providing protection to businesses to make his money. Those were crazy times… Ed closed his eyes as memories flooded his mind’s eyes so fast he could hardly make out the faces anymore. In the beginning, he enjoyed leaning on new customers; Making them pay up in order to avoid having their fingers broken, or taking a baseball bat to their legs… Ed grew to love his work, he loved watching how fear could magically transform into relief when a customer was granted ‘juice’, a loan that would buy time, but double the amount owed. I always knew how much hurt they could handle… He shook his head at the failures of the underlings Rossi made him take under his wing for training. I knew how to make my point without fucking up the guy so bad he couldn’t get back to work… He drew a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled; Fucking them up was never the fucking point, the point was to motivate them to get the money, for fuck sakes.

  During the long years he worked as Anthony’s enforcer, he often found himself beating an underling in a fit of rage after a job, Stupid fuckers didn’t get the whole fucking point was to make money, not get their rocks off. Not that Ed didn’t take pleasure in intimidation; he had to convince a lot of Rossi rivals to give up clients, and he always felt amped and powerful when he wasted a competitor and stuffed the body in a dumpster, or brazenly dumped it in front of a competing boss’s favorite hangout.

  But I ain’t never, ever killed a kid before… Ed’s eyes began to brim with unshed tears and he sniffed aloud, blinking furiously, I’m losin’ my edge… getting’ fat… His lips pressed into a thin line of disgust at his weakness, I ain’t never fucked up a job before in my whole life… Never! All I had to do was shoot that petite piece of ass, give my message, then bring in that tall drink of computer brains later… But when he went into the kitchen a flicker of movement in the corner of his field of vision made him jump and he simply fired; Point and shoot… that’s what I do… But the child had looked directly into his eyes… Those mother fucking big brown eyes…

  Ed had been standing in the sitting room doorway for some time and he arched his lower spine, wincing when he felt the vertebra pop. You left your prints on the fucking door handles… he thought scornfully, on both doors, you fucking putz! You were off your game before that kid ever cursed you with her eyes.

  The door to Rossi’s office opened and Ed stepped into the hallway, nodding in acknowledgment when Anthony motioned for him to come inside, I’m a “made” guy, I can retire but I can’t never leave… he shrugged inwardly as he trudged down the thickly carpeted hall, Maybe it’s time…

  Rose stood leaning against one of the shining white kitchen counters, the coffee cup held just below her lips. When her husband went to prison for extortion twelve years earlier she knew her nephew would always do right by her, she was family. He didn’t care that her son was a gay who literally lived in San Francisco. Marco, now thirty, left home after his father went to prison. I knew he was a gay…in my heart I was always afraid he was… she thought despondently, but why did he have to choose that minute to “come out” to me? She had not reacted well and Marco had packed his bags, a “friend” picked him up, and I never saw him again… Seven years later, she received a card from him on Mother’s Day, telling her he was happy and his current address if she ever wanted to contact him. She threw out and retrieved that card from the trash many times that day, and as the years passed she found thoughts and memories of him creeping back into her consciousness, against her will. At odd times she would find herself thinking about him, her only child, who she washed her hands of… But the world is a different place now… she thought, watching Alex tiredly feed her son as he sat in the brand new highly stylized chrome high chair at the kitchen table, and Anthony must not care too much about these gays now that he has her here…

  She was not pleased when Anthony told her he expected her to take over care of Alex’s son while she settled in, “I know you have a lot to do around here, keeping us fed and the place in order… but this kid’ll need fulltime care while his mother works for me…” Anthony had grinned, “I got a lot of computer work for her to do for the company…” The last thing she needed was more work to do, and then Cameron kept crying and fussing throughout the night. It was four o’clock in the morning and she was fuming when she stomped into the tiny connecting room for the sixth time. The last thing she wanted was to hold a baby in her arms and think about Marco… But then… when I saw into his eyes… Cameron had abruptly stopped crying and straining in her arms and, suddenly quiet, locked eyes with the woman who had just turned fifty the week before, and she finally recognized him for who he was; He was just a little baby boy who missed his mama… She drew in a careful breath, keeping a tight lid over emotions she had suppressed for too many years, He is a child of God, and he deserves love just li… Rose sniffed aloud and turned back to the counter, adding more coffee to her nearly empty cup, unable to complete the sentence, even privately.

  “So far we have everything you need for him.” She smiled, finding, to her surprise, that she could not have cared less that this tall beautiful woman was a lesbian. “And I think he’s used to me now…” She crossed the large kitchen and sat across from them, “I know Anthony’s gonna’ keep you real busy, and I think Cameron and I will get along just fine…” she smiled, “and we’ll always be close by, whenever you need a break to come and see him.”

  Alex felt as though she was on autopilot and she nodded mechanically, forcing herself to smile and look relaxed, “Thank you… I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “should I be calling you Rose, or…”

  “Rose is fine,” she stood and began clearing the table of the breakfast dishes, “did you have enough? We have more…”

  “Oh no…” Alex smiled, wiping applesauce from Cameron’s chubby chin, “that was delicious, thank you… I think he’s full.”

  “You are welcome to get whatever you want from the kitchen any time,” Rose spoke as she cleared the table, “and you are welcome to eat with us…” She paused, turning to her, “although neither Anthony nor I will be insulted if you choose to eat in your room. He says he understands how you computer types are.”

  Alex snorted softly, “Yes, well, sometimes it does feel like my head has been sucked into my hard drive when I finally notice the time and see the whole day has passed.”

  “Okay…” Rose shrugged one-sidedly, not entirely certain she understood, “I can have one of the boys bring up meals to you, it’s no big deal here, I prefer to eat in the kitchen myself, the boys eat in here too, although I’ll warn you it can get a little loud sometimes.” She pulled a credit card from the pocket of her apron and placing it on the table, slid it across to Alex, “Anthony said to give you this…” Alex’s eyebrows arched questioningly and Rose gave her a small smile, “It’s a credit card so you can shop online for whatever you need for clothes, shoes, whatever… for you and Cameron. We got a laptop for you so you can use it to get whatever you need for work and stuff. We put it in your room while you and Anthony were talking.” She walked back to the sink and stopped, “Although, if it’s okay, I’d like to buy some stuff for Cameron too…” she gestured awkwardly, “if that’s okay… that way I won’t interrupt you.”

  “Of course…” Alex assured her, “and thank you again for all your care…” she gave Cameron a kiss and stood, “I should get started I guess,” she sighed, taking the credit card, “I’m sure he likes the toys you have for him already, but would you mind getting him one of those glowworm toys?” She held her hands a foot apart, “They’re about this big and they…”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Rose nodded, “I got one for…” her voice faltered and she shook her head, “I mean, those have been around longer than sock monkeys.” She waved dismissively, “Don’t worry; I’ll get him one today.” She circled around the
table and picked Cameron up, lifting him from the high chair, “We do have some live-in help,” she rolled her eyes, “besides me… she can finish here while we go order a new glowworm for you…” She stroked the pink baby cheek, “okay my little coccolino?”

  Cameron reached out for Alex and she smiled reassuringly, “It’s okay Cam…” she beamed, “she’ll get you a new wormy.” Rose left the room and looking deep into her son’s retreating dark brown eyes, swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. Finally alone in the cavernous kitchen, she exhaled as though she had been holding her breath. Don’t think, Alex… she looked down distractedly at the credit card she held, noticing the name embossed in gold on the black plastic, Louis Carna.

  Well, Mister Carna, I have some shopping to do.

  Point Sur, CA

  She tiredly scrubbed at her face as she descended the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible and avoid the creaky spots on the beautifully restored walnut staircase. They had driven in a two-car caravan to Carmel the day before to visit Dr. Wooley, a physician who consulted for the FBI for over thirty years until his retirement. He lived in the same house in Pebble Beach for nearly fifty years and was happy to review Catherine's medical file and check on her recovery. Jordan found him a kindly grandfatherly type but she knew one of his many specialties was otolaryngology and she trusted him to determine if the injuries to Catherine’s throat were still healing properly.

  They had gotten an early start; Jordan drove a darkly colored, mid-sized SUV while Wallace and Turner trailed behind in one of the ranger vehicles. Dr. Wooley performed a thorough examination, checking Catherine’s vitals and speaking gently, mindful of the grievous bodily injuries as well as the terrible emotional wounds she endured. He reassured her that her throat was healing well but cautioned her against using her voice at all, and took care to compliment Jordan on teaching her sign language so Catherine’s throat could rest and heal properly. He recommended she come back to see him in a month, believing he would then have a better idea of when she could begin using her voice again.

  Afterward they drove to Monterey, stopping in a shopping mall for additional toiletries, groceries and so Jordan and Catherine could buy a few more items for their meager wardrobes before heading back down the coast. When they returned to the rock it was dark, and Jordan drove very slowly up the narrow fog enshrouded road, marveling once again at the stately buildings when they pulled up to the head keeper’s house and tiredly unloaded the vehicles. Jordan begged a clearly exhausted Catherine to please stay and eat dinner and both women had trudged directly to bed afterwards, leaving Wallace and Turner to again lock them in for the night.

  All I did was drive the car… Jordan stretched as she shuffled to the kitchen, but I feel like I’ve been hit by one. She debated briefly whether the smell of brewing coffee would wake Catherine, but her need for caffeine won out and she scooped the fragrant grounds into a new filter and turned on the coffeemaker. She wandered over to the window, noticing for the first time, the binoculars that sat on the windowsill. She picked them up and scanned the northern coastline before training them out to sea, imagining previous residents doing the same thing over decades of service to sea travelers. Her radio crackled softly and she dug it out of her sweater pocket, “Hawks…” she said quietly, returning the binoculars to the sill.

  “I’m coming in the front door,” Wallace’s voice popped with static, “just wanted to warn you.”

  “Thanks.” She answered and craned her neck when she heard him come in. She briefly tapped her finger against her lips for quiet and he nodded, not speaking until he was in the kitchen,

  “She still asleep?”

  “I think so.” Jordan sat tiredly at the kitchen table, “It’s ridiculous but I am wiped out from yesterday.”

  Wallace sat across from her, “Given the past few days…” he shrugged, “it’s not too surprising, is it?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to discuss the murder of Don and the other agents. Her phone vibrated and she fumbled in her sweater pocket, pulling it free, “It’s Stewart…”

  “Give me a call on the radio when you’re done.” He gave her a wave and left.

  “Hey Stewart.”

  “Hey Jordan,” he greeted her, “just wanted to check in and find out what Wooley said.”

  “She’s doing well, still can’t try talking yet.”

  “Okay… well…” she heard him sigh heavily, “it’ll come as no surprise that we don’t have a lot to go on in terms of tracking Rossi down. The neighbors honestly don’t remember anything out of the ordinary right up till the shooting started. And I’m gonna’ guess the Rossi’s are gonna stay deep underground for a long time given how many agents they killed.”

  “Stewart…”

  “Jordan…” he stopped her, “this is not your fault, no one blames you…”

  She felt her lips tremble and she pressed them into a thin line, furiously blinking back the tears that instantly brimmed in her eyes, “I know…”

  “Do you?” He softened his tone, “Look, I should have you on administrative leave, you know? You should be in counseling…”

  “For chrissakes, Stewart, I don’t need counseling,” She cleared her throat and sniffed, “I wasn’t there…”

  “I know…” he sighed again, “You’re in a frickin’ deserted lighthouse because you know sign language and you have a rapport with our only witness. I called to tell you the obvious; Rossi and his cronies are hiding out and we’re probably not gonna’ get any kind of a lead until Alex Sparrow fires up a program we can find online.” He sighed again, “And it would sure help if Cathy could help us out on that one.”

  “Catherine…”

  “Huh?”

  “She legally changed her name to Catherine…” Jordan corrected him quietly, “She wants to be called that now… and if want her help we need to remember that.”

  “Okay…” Stewart sounded wary, “sure.”

  Jordan licked her lips then added, “This has been one fucked up week, huh?”

  “I’ll say,” he agreed, “you know the data dump we did on the Sparrow’s internet?”

  “Yes?”

  “There was that one customer Alex did a quickie email job for we figured was one of Rossi’s extortion victims?”

  “Yes?”

  “He’s dead and his business was broken into, all his money and computer stuff was taken… it appears Rossi’s covering his tracks very carefully. I can only think whatever it is he wants Alex to create for him must be very big.”

  Catherine showered and brushed her teeth on autopilot, not really paying attention to what she was doing until she reached the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” Jordan greeted her softly but her voice still sounded strained.

  “Good morning...” she signed then stopped, “Everything okay?”

  Jordan nodded, slumping back in the hard chair, “Still tired from yesterday even though we mostly just… drove around a lot.”

  Catherine listened as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from her at the table, “Me too… maybe we should go out for a brisk walk to the lighthouse after breakfast?”

  Jordan gave her a small smile and nodded, “Okay...” She continued to sit limply, “There continues to be no news, really...” she shrugged. “Stewart called…” she shrugged again, “he didn’t really have anything to report.” She took a careful breath, “Our cyber division is monitoring an online game site called Dark Warlords…” She was playing it when you were shot and your daughter was killed… she added silently. “We found her account and her history showed she was really into it…”

  “She’ll never use that account again…” Catherine signed, shaking her head, “If she goes back to play she’ll know to create another account and a whole new character to play as.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan sighed heavily, “another reason why I have no news yet.”

  Catherine sipped her coffee while Jordan spoke and she regarded her thoughtfully,
“What?”

  Jordan drew a deep breath, and sitting up straighter in her seat, leaned her elbows on the table, “We tapped your phone and broadband…”

  Catherine considered her words and gave a half-shrug, “That would make sense…”

  “The only suspicious thing we could find was one of Alex’s business clients… she uploaded an email security program for someone who we suspected as being extorted by Rossi.”

  “Extorted?”

  “A typical business for these organized crime families is to offer what they call protection, which is just an excuse for stealing money from a small business person in exchange for protecting them from other organized crime families.”

  “Racketeering.”

  “Exactly.” Jordan cupped her hands around her coffee mug and stared into its contents, “And his body was found stuffed in the dumpster behind his business two days ago.”

  They pulled on their coats and scarves and Catherine stood quietly while Jordan tied back her hair and transferred her radio, phone and ID to her coat pockets. She regarded the soft gray wainscoting and white moulding that helped brighten the soft rose-cream painted walls in the entryway. She never cared for wallpaper, and while she usually preferred white walls she didn’t mind that her current bedroom was painted a soft yellow. The head keeper’s house had just one chimney in the center of the Tudor-style structure, while the stone triplex had three. She gave a Jordan a small wave, “Does the fireplace here work?”