by Lisa Libby
He smiles wide with a missing front tooth. That’s new, since the last time I’ve seen him.
“Dad,” I say, opening my arms wide.
“Ava, honey, oh my god, oh my god,” he says pulling me in for a big hug.
We hug until the guard tells us to sit down.
I push back my tears. I’m flooded with guilt; I should’ve believed him and stood by him. He told me he didn’t do it, and that the cops won’t believe him, so he had to plead guilty to get a lesser sentence.
“Ava, I love ya honey, I’m happy to see ya, and oh my god, ya so beautiful, so beautiful just like ya mothah.”
“Dad, I’m sorry for not believing you.”
“That don’t matter and don’t let that nonsense fill our visit time. I want to know all about ya life.”
“Well, I have had an interesting year.”
“Well, go on, tell me.”
“I found my biological father.”
His face goes pale.
“Don’t talk so loud,” he says, reaching his hand to put it over my mouth, pulling his arm back quickly before the guards see him.
“Why?” I look around the room.
“They could be listenin’.”
“Who?”
“Tha Irish.”
“Dad, I know you didn’t do this, and I think I can get you out of here.”
“Ava, don’t you dare even try it, don’t dig up old bones, you don’t know what dog buried them. Can you buy a coke from the vending machine?” He changes the subject quickly.
“Ok.”
I go to the vending machine.
I slip the baggie of oxycodone underneath the can of coke. I know from my last visits what my father likes.
When I turn around to return to the table, my father is talking with a guard, but he returns to the table before I take a seat.
I set the coke down on top the drugs and slide it across the table.
“There is nothing like a cold can of coke.” He pulls the can to him and the drugs fall in his lap and he puts them down his pants.
“I also came here for a favor. I have a friend that will be transferred to this prison soon.”
“Who?”
“Johnny Cormick, he’s my boyfriend.”
I leave out the important details because my father would say no otherwise.
He doesn’t need to know about the charges against me being dropped and that instead the FBI arrested Johnny based on new evidence. He pleaded guilty like he was instructed, and his sentencing is in the next few weeks. It was no surprise the Mob chose Susan over Johnny. Claire and Susan are close.
“What are his charges?
“Money laundering from a corporation.”
My father laughs.
“Anything for my baby girl.”
“Time’s up people,” the guards yell.
“I will replenish your commissary every month with the maximum amount allowed. I will be back to visit you soon.”
“I love ya Ava, ya such a good girl.”
We hug goodbye. I take the coke can my father was drinking as if to throw it away in the trash, but I hang onto it to test his DNA. Paul gave me a contact in Boston that will run my father’s DNA. I want to see if it matches what the police found at my mother’s murder scene. Paul informs me that the Mob has in the past altered DNA results to avoid their members going to prison. This makes me believe my father was framed. If I can prove his innocence, I can get him out of jail.
Next stop, a visit to Johnny’s parents’ house. I hear Casey has moved in with them since learning Johnny will do time. My father gives me Johnny’s parents’ address with a promise that I won’t harm them. It is a strange thing for my father to say, I mean, it feels as though he knows I have killed before. There is no way he would know about me murdering Mac, unless Johnny ran off at the mouth. It worries me he has that leverage over me. If he wanted to rat on me, he could, but that behavior is highly frowned upon on the streets.
I won’t kill Johnny’s parents today, but I will threaten their lives, since Johnny’s father Cormick put a hit out on me. Almost drowning in the harbor and finding out who’s responsible makes you want to show up at a person’s house. I still love Johnny but harming his family will mean losing him.
I turn off the headlights as I edge closer to the house on the hill. I find street parking a few blocks from the driveway.
I pull my sweatshirt hood over my head, tucking in my hair. I put on black gloves and check the gun to ensure the safety is on, I’m just here to threaten them, not kill them.
I stand at the back door. I call the house phone and hear someone’s footsteps walking to the ringing phone.
“Hello,” a man’s voice answers.
“Cormick, it’s Ava, I’m at your back door. I just want to talk.”
I hear him sigh.
The phone hangs up and the back door opens and out comes Cormick.
“Come in,” he says.
I follow him through his kitchen past a woman sipping tea in her nightgown, her hair in curlers.
“Sean, who’s this?” she asks as we walk past.
“Irene, stay put. Ava, sit.”
“I’m not here to apologize that Johnny is going to jail instead of me. You know why, don’t you Cormick?” I ask.
“Don’t you dare say anything more, not around my wife.”
“If you even ever think about trying that again, you will pay. I’ll kill your wife, your future grandson and his whore of a mother.”
I blackout daydreaming about blowing his head off.
He leans in. “Try my family, bitch and I will kill you first. Leave me and my family alone. I won’t bother you if you leave us alone and that includes Johnny.”
I hear the stairs creak and feel a presence behind me. We turn to see Casey looking very pregnant.
“You ruined my baby’s life; he won’t be raised with his daddy. I hope you rot in hell you fucking slut!” she screams.
Irene runs to be next to Casey’s side and hushes her up the stairs.
“I think it’s time you got the hell out of my house.”
Cormick gets to his feet.
“Don’t take my threats seriously and I’ll be back, but this time you won’t be warned. And me and Johnny are in love, he will forgive me, he can’t resist. Just like you and all your prostitute whores you fuck out back of the church during service. You wonder where Johnny gets his need to be with multiple women…” I walk out before he can respond.
Johnny won’t talk now and won’t be any happier when he learns I threatened his family, but I know in time he’ll see things clearer. I can’t worry about that now. I have a few more task to complete before I leave for the Dominican Republic to join Paul. I need to meet with Koda. I just hope my plan works and he will agree.
INDIAN
CHAPTER 37
My Land
Ava burying her father alive is the final vision I receive from my most recent tribal ceremony. It’s a sign she’s becoming more powerful than him. It is cautioning that times are changing. The wind has twisted with summer approaching, but this wind is not because of the weather. It’s the spirits; they are twisting, causing this wind. I only agreed to meet with Ava because she has news that will help me get back ownership of my people’s land.
I grab an old wooden kitchen chair and drag it out to the small open porch to wait for Ava. I take out my favorite knife and begin carving a new tobacco pipe. The air is crisp. I see every breath I exhale. I don’t mind the cold, I never did. New Englanders always complain about the long winters and that they’re cold, but me I never say out loud I’m cold, even if that’s the truth. A healthy mind can trick their body into thinking they’re okay. A sick mind complains all the time about weather and everything bothering them.
She pulls up a f
ew hours before the sun sets. She doesn’t get out of her car. Possibly too cold for her.
“Koda, get in – I want to show you something,” she yells out the car window.
I don’t like surprises. I grab my rifle and knife and walk to the driver side window and tap on it.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise, come, it’s cold.”
I go with my instincts. I sense no harm and unwillingly get in her car.
“How have you been?” she asks.
I don’t respond. I hope she gets the hint I don’t like small talk.
The drive is familiar, like every drive through the mountains. I have a feeling I know where we are heading.
We get to my ancestor’s mountain, the Shawmut, which was absorbed by the white man and transformed into ski resorts that share the various mountain sides and valleys, as if to divide this mountain into many mountains.
We pull up to a popular scenic rest area that used to be filled with tiny food huts where my people sold their fruit and vegetables to locals and tourists visiting the White Mountain region. The view is spectacular, but not as I remember its beauty before it was over developed.
“Come, get out, look at this beautiful view,” she says as if I’ve never seen this.
The moon is full, reflecting off the treetops along the mountain and reflecting exactly the river in the valley. Makes you see double.
“It was more beautiful before the ski lifts and electric poles. There used to be more birds, owls, bald eagles and hawks,” I respond.
“Koda, I got it all back, it’s yours again. You can remove these ski resorts and restore the land. Here is the deed to all the land that makes up Mount Shawmut.”
I read the deed in disbelief. It looks real from what I can see, but it’s unimaginable.
“Here is a map of the current layout of the mountain and development. This top layer of the map is how we determined where Mount Shawmut begins and ends. The first land your indigenous people settled,” she says with a wide smile.
“I don’t need a map to know which land is my people’s,” I say, handing the map back.
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sorry,” she says, looking at the ground, pushing snow into piles with her boots.
She’s shivering cold. I motion her back into the car.
Ava turns the car heat on so strong it’s burning my face. I slap the heat vents closed.
“Koda, my father told me of the many rituals you performed on him to keep him in good spirits. You know, I remember the rituals, drums pounding, and red dust tossed over my body while I was recovering in the hospital. At first, I thought they were dreams until my father explained your traditions. When I was a child, I remember the same red dust. My father told me the sandman sent the red sand to protect me. My father believes in your spirits and therefore I do.”
“Thank you, but I cannot accept the land.”
“This is when I ask for a favor.”
“How did you pay for this land and what was the cost?”
“It’s cost me everything,” she half smiles. “I need you to keep an eye on a friend. He’s a private investigator that may be in danger. I need you to keep him alive. Connor McClean is tracking him as well, but I think I made the mistake of trusting Connor. You need to keep him alive. I owe him for helping me with the trial.”
“And if your friend is murdered, no mountain?”
“The land is yours no matter what. It was never our land to take from your people.”
For a moment she has me trusting her word and then I remember who her parents are and know deep inside there are demons hiding in this girl. Some she may not be familiar with, but they will eventually introduce themselves to her and anyone in her way. Perhaps that is why her father continues to ask for more of my spiritual red sand.
“Koda, can I ask you something? Why do you allow people to refer to you as ‘The Indian’? Aren’t you offended?”
“The people that call me ‘The Indian’ are those who respect me, so why would I feel like they are disrespecting me? I am unlike other indigenous people. They are conservative Indians, everything can offend them, even the animals and spirits.”
She’s silent and I sense she’s not done asking for favors.
“I have one more favor. I don’t want an answer today or tomorrow. I just want you to think about it for some time before you give me your answer. Perhaps we can discuss it over some dinner.”
I know what she wants before she even asks, but I’ll let her ask me anyway.
“Take us home. The White Man has soup warming on the woodstove.”
MR. ALTERMAN
CHAPTER 38
Suicide
It’s an immaculate win for Ava. Only Waylon Wilson could have pulled this off. I know Ava is not happy about throwing all the dirt toward Johnny, but it was the only way she could keep herself out of jail. The Irish agreed with the conclusion, but on their terms. They were impressed with Ava’s hacking scheme put in place with the help of her anonymous hacker friend, skimming the Italian’s funds and laundering through Atlantic. Even though she’s not all the brains behind it, she established the connections and made this all happen. It satisfies the FBI incriminating Johnny in Ava’s place, and that’s really all they care about, putting the blame on someone. Ava is not out of the woods yet, because the Italians aren’t happy with the idea someone was stealing from them – even with the promise Ava will return the funds.
With the information that Ava offered regarding her case, I reached out to the informants I pay to keep their ears close to the streets. I was told that Johnny’s father, Cormick is looking to avenge his son Stan’s killer. He accused Coonan, but the detective on the case found no proof that Ava’s father killed Stan. It’s obvious who did it, since it’s rumored that Ava’s attempted killers were hired directly by Cormick, not to mention the grotesque way the three men were killed. It has “The Coroner” written all over it.
Ava won’t live to see her twenty-fifth birthday, especially after putting Johnny in jail.
I am waiting at the only breakfast diner on Massachusetts Avenue, better known as Meth Mile, because of all the methadone clinics. The food, service and even the coffee is terrible, but neither of us are here for the food or ambience.
I sit with my back to the wall facing the door. Being in law enforcement for so long, I never sit in a position where I can’t see the entire room or nearest exit. In today’s world, people just walk into public places shooting up everyone for religious reasons, terrorism, or for no reason at all. Ava told me I may not recognize her at first, but I don’t know what that means.
I check the menu while waiting for her to show. I must order something, or it looks suspicious. I hear someone slide into the booth across from me. I peek from behind the menu. It’s Ava, I think. Short black wig, and heavy makeup.
“Hello. I warned you, don’t look at me so strangely,” she says.
“Sorry, I just … never mind.”
“Did you order? I’m starving. I only have an hour before I need to leave for the airport.”
“Not yet.” I wave the waitress over.
“Ready ta ordah?” the waitress asks as in an annoying tone.
I motion to Ava to order first.
“I’ll get pancakes with extra butter on the side, bacon—well done—sausage, white toast darkened, with extra butter, hash browns, an English muffin with strawberry jam on the side and … um, can you heat the syrup? And for a drink, just coffee please? That’s all.”
“Two eggs over easy, whole wheat toast, oatmeal, and coffee,” I order.
“Jesus, Ava, how do you stay skinny eating like that?”
“I eat all my calorie intake in one sitting. So far it’s working for me.”
“Let’s get to the point of why we are here.”
&n
bsp; Ava pulls out a device that looks like a phone. “This is a GPS; this will guide you to your destination.”
Ava is choosing her words carefully and I don’t blame her. The device is tracking Mob boss Claire Spillane. She’s been in control of the Mob since before I first joined the police force. She’s ruined my life and the lives of my friends. Boston changed for worse the day she was promoted to Mob boss. When her father oversaw the Mob, there was less violence, especially against officers and innocent residents. The Mob stuck to killing only members from rival gangs. Many of my colleagues were killed because of the Mob or were forced to resign or relocate – or ended up drinking too much or getting into drugs. Under her rule, she murders for her own enjoyment. Her goal is to instill fear in others in order to maintain control.
When I knew Ava was linked to the Mob in such a unique way, I knew this could be my one opportunity to get to Claire. All those years as an officer trying to keep Boston safe, I admit I gave up, but now this opportunity. I can finally get rid of the most perilous leader of the Irish Boston has seen. I know crime will never be conquered, but I owe it to my friends and the families she destroyed. I love this city, and the people who live here. I’ve been around the world, and there is nothing that compares to Boston, nothing. The history, politics, culture, diversity, education, and beauty shall be restored.
“This device will not tell you who is around here, so please be careful. She’s known to have many lookouts; people you wouldn’t expect are on her side.”
“I don’t have any plans to live through this experience. I am old, I have nothing left to live for.”
“What do you mean? You’re just going to let them…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. I’ve already set in my mind that I will die attempting to kill Claire. I don’t have a backup plan; I don’t have anyone to watch my back. I can’t afford to pay for backup anyway. Plus, the more people who know, the more likely it is Claire will be warned I’m planning the hit.