by Mike Faricy
“And then he called you?”
“No, I heard about it from a cop pal. They’d run into a dead end, and I just happened to luck out and find the idiots who robbed him.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Schmidty said. He was shaving the sides of Taylor’s head. It was beginning to look a lot like the haircut I got in basic training, so short you couldn’t pinch the hair. “You broke one of their arms, right?”
“Half-right, I broke an arm on each of them. One of them came at me with an eighteen-inch wrecking bar. That kind of pissed me off.”
Schmidty laughed and switched hair clippers. He cut a part along the side of Taylor’s head. “Now, I’m going to trim these curls on top, okay?”
“Yeah, but not too much.”
“I’ll just take a little off. We wouldn’t want to disappoint all the girls.”
“Oh my God, Taylor, they’ll be standing in line,” I said.
“You better get extra locks for the door, son,” Schmidty chuckled. He finished up about five minutes later and handed Taylor the mirror. “You take a look and make sure you like it. If you don’t, you can just wait four or five weeks, and it will grow out.”
Both Schmidty and I laughed. Taylor sat in the chair, grinning, seemingly mesmerized as he moved the mirror back and forth. “If you like, I could shave my signature in the back of your head,” Schmidty said.
“Thanks, but I think it’s fine just the way it is,” Taylor said, not getting the joke.
“Okay, stay there for just a minute and let me take a picture,” Schmidty said. He pulled out his cell phone and took two pictures and then undid the apron around Taylor. Taylor climbed out of the chair, and Schmidty brushed him off. “Okay, Taylor, you’re good to go. Nice to meet you. Don’t be a stranger and watch yourself around Dev, here. Trouble always seems to find him.”
Taylor grinned, and we headed out the door. “You want some lunch?” I said as we climbed into my car.
“Actually, I can grab some at school. They serve until 1:00, and I can make my afternoon classes.”
“Yeah, fine with me. I’ll drop you off. You’re free to stay at my place tonight.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Good, is your phone working?”
“Yeah, I recharged it overnight.”
“Call me with any problems. I should be home around five tonight. If you want to get there before that, give me a call, and I can pick you up.” I pulled out my cellphone and handed it to him. “Call yourself on my cell, so I have your number, and we can set each other up as a contact. That way, we ever need to get a hold of one another, it’s there.” He punched in his number as I turned the corner. I knew better than to pull into the school parking lot. Instead, I just stopped at the curb, and he started to climb out.
“Hey, Taylor,” I said before he closed the door, “do your best today, and you’re welcome to stay at my place as long as you want. Okay?”
He smiled, nodded, and walked up the concrete steps toward the front door of the building. I noticed the stare he got from a couple of girls walking out to the parking lot. If Taylor noticed, he didn’t let on. On the way home, I stopped at the CVS store and bought a couple of pens and some notebooks. I picked up Morton from home, and we headed down to the office. Louie was gone, and the coffee was on. I poured myself a cup and turned the burner off. Morton got comfortable on his pillow.
I settled in behind my desk and phoned Barbara. She answered on the second ring. “So, what’s the latest?”
“Yeah, good afternoon back to you, Barbara.”
“Sorry if I’m concerned about both of you. How is it going?”
“Things are going fine. We did a little shopping this morning. Got a haircut, and right now, he’s in school. I dropped him off about forty-five minutes ago. He wanted to make his afternoon classes.”
“Hmm-mmm. Any word on where he’s from or what the family situation is?”
“No, and I don’t intend to push it. I think he’ll come around in time and begin to open up.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is, he can stay with me as long as he wants. I told him if he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life on the street, he has to get an education.”
“Stay as long as he wants? Dev, is that even legal?”
“It is, at least for the moment. The last thing he or we need is for Taylor to be focused on where he’s going to sleep and how he can get his next meal. I want to get him feeling somewhat safe so he doesn’t have to worry about the basics in life. Once that occurs, I suspect we may learn more about his family situation.”
There was a long pause before she said, “Okay, so what can I do to help?”
“Well, don’t mention what’s going on to anyone. The last thing any of us need, especially Taylor, is some busybody involving themselves and thinking he’d be better off in some facility. Let’s just take our time. Right now, he’s safe and feels comfortable enough to want to go back to school.”
“All right, please stay in touch, and mark your calendar for Tuesday and Thursday next week, detention.”
“How could I forget?” I said.
“All right, thank you for the update. Let’s talk tomorrow,” Barbara said and disconnected.
I thought a long while about Taylor and called my friend Dennis.
“Inkredible,” was how he answered the phone.
“Dennis, Dev Haskell.”
“Twice in the same week. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just wanted to say thanks for making the time to see Ramona and her girlfriends the other day. They told me about it last night, and they were just thrilled. I really owe you, man.”
“Dev, thanks, but I really enjoyed myself. A great bunch of girls and they gave me some great ideas on new artwork. The type of images that will appeal to the younger market. As a matter of fact, they’re coming back, I think tonight at some point.”
“Yeah, they told me sometime around eight. That’s when you close, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, and Friday is usually a pretty quiet night, so it should work out just fine.”
“Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Yeah, sure, man, I feel like I owe you.”
“Hardly, but here’s what I’d like to do…” I went on to explain Taylor’s situation and finished up with, “so if we could chat with you for a couple of minutes and then leave once the girls arrive. You know, have them thinking this kid is really cool.”
“Girls avoiding him and pain in the ass boys thinking they’re hot shit. I remember those days all too well. Yeah, you bet. Come on down. I’ll think of it as a kind of payback for those jerks that stole my clothes from the high school locker room.”
“Yeah, we all have a story like that. Thanks, Dennis. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Looking forward to it, Dev.”
Chapter 21
I was in the process of searching police department records online for Eli Cummings when I heard the stairs creaking and figured it was Louie heading up to the office. Unfortunately, when the office door opened and I looked up, a red-faced Fat Freddy Zimmerman waddled in. Behind him, huffing and puffing, came Tubby Gustafson. Both of them looked like they’d just run a marathon.
Fat Freddy’s eyes were bulging, and his chest was heaving as he pulled back the client chair for Tubby. Tubby collapsed in the chair, pulled a handkerchief out from his suit coat, and mopped his brow. They both sat there, breathing heavily for a long minute or two before Tubby managed to gasp, “Damn it, Haskell.”
“How nice of you to stop in, sir,” I said and waited for the inevitable response about how I was totally worthless and would never amount to anything.
Tubby seemed to be staring at the floor, and as his breathing returned to a more or less controlled state, I wondered if he was maybe experiencing the beginnings of a heart attack.
“Sir, Mr. Gustafson. Are you all right, sir?”
“Just where in the hell did yo
u get those?” Tubby groaned and pointed at the six paintings leaning against the wall behind me.
I had to turn for a moment because I didn’t realize what he was pointing at. “Oh, those are some paintings I uncovered that were done by Eli Cummings, the man you asked me to find. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. I’ve been combing through the police records as I speak,” I said and spun the laptop around so Tubby could see the mugshot image of Eli Cummings from 2018.
Tubby glanced at my computer screen and shook his head. “I’m not interested in that damn thing,” he groaned. “Where in the hell did you get those,” he said, pointing to the three landscapes and three portrait images leaning against the wall.
“I believe I mentioned I had visited Cummings’ last known address, sir. I was able to work out an agreement with the landlord and acquired those paintings. Unfortunately for the landlord, Cummings had fled the scene owing two months’ rent.”
Tubby shook his head. “Old, outdated information, just like that mugshot from two damn years ago. Worthless, completely worthless. I’m going to waste my time and ask, have you found him yet?”
“No, sir, not exactly.”
“Not exactly? What, is he hiding under a bed somewhere, and you haven’t pulled him out? Haskell, you pathetic moron, I told you to find him, damn it. That’s all you had to do was find him. Of course, at no surprise, you’ve once again managed to fail miserably.”
“Yes, sir, I understand that, and I’m trying my best to find him. It’s just that he seems to have disappeared. I believe I suggested he may have left the country and—”
“Silencio!” he shouted then took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. “He hasn’t left the country, you one-watt idiot. He’s somewhere in town. God almighty, why do I even bother? You’re supposed to find him. That’s all you had to do was find him. Is that so hard?”
“I’m trying to do that, sir, but it would seem he doesn’t wish to be found. The police have no indication of where he might be. I can’t find anyone who is associated with him. I’ve no knowledge of where he might spend his time. As I mentioned, he fled his apartment owing two months’ rent.”
“He fled after assaulting an individual I sent to deliver a message,” Tubby said.
I could only imagine what the message was. “So, it would seem you’ve run into exactly the same difficulty as I have. I told you before he was a person of interest in some bank robberies, but no one knows where he is. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to need more time.”
“Yet you found those paintings, didn’t you?”
“I’m having them examined by a professional,” I said.
“Let me save you the time. They’re forgeries. There, problem solved. Now, if I may suggest, I think it would be wise to get back to work, find this individual, and fast!” Tubby shouted those last two words.
“Message received loud and clear, sir.”
Tubby glanced up at the ceiling and mumbled, “Lord, give me strength. Fredrick, I’m waiting.”
Fat Freddy jumped to his feet and pulled Tubby’s chair back as Tubby groaned and stood. “Haskell, let me warn you. You are running out of valuable time. For your own good, I suggest you find Cummings and quickly.”
He stared at the paintings again and mumbled, “Interesting,” as he waddled toward the door. Fat Freddy smiled, nodded, and gave me the finger. He hurried to catch up with Tubby, slamming the door on the way out. I sat at my desk and listened to the stairs creak as they slowly made their way down to the main floor. A moment later, they appeared out on the sidewalk. Tubby continued to shake his head and apparently mumble as Fat Freddy ran ahead and opened the door. The black SUV rocked from side to side as Tubby oozed onto the seat and then slowly slid across to the far side of the vehicle.
Fat Freddy opened the driver’s door and climbed in behind the wheel. I thought it amazing there was enough room for him with a steering wheel in the way, but the SUV suddenly started up, pulled into the lane, and disappeared.
I looked down at the paintings leaning against the wall and thought for a moment. I pulled out my cellphone and pushed the contact number.
“Dinicci,” was how Annette answered her phone.
“Hi Annette, this is Dev Haskell.”
“Oh, hi Dev. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m wondering if you might have time to look at some paintings I’ve acquired.”
“Acquired, you mean as in you purchased them?”
“No, actually, I paid a visit to the empty apartment Eli Cummings had been living in. Judging from the things left behind, he apparently departed in a hurry. I have six paintings, three versions of a portrait and three versions of a landscape.”
“Oil paintings on canvas?”
“They’re paintings, I’m not sure if they’re oil or acrylic, and I think they’re on canvas.”
“Interesting, and they’re works by Eli Cummings?”
“That’s a presumption on my part. They were in his former apartment. There isn’t a signature on them. Based on our luncheon conversation the other day, if I had to guess, I would say they’re maybe a study of an existing work. I don’t recognize either painting, but you might, and maybe they would alert you to a forgery or an attempted forgery.”
“Yeah, I’d be very interested in seeing them. I can’t make it tonight, but I could come over tomorrow morning first thing.”
“That would be great, Annette, but tomorrow is Saturday. If you want to wait until Monday, that’s fine with me.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to do tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, sure. Would sometime after nine be okay?”
“I’ll be there, Dev, and thanks for the call,” she said and hung up.
I heard a sudden creaking on the stairs and glanced out the window, hoping I wouldn’t see Tubby Gustafson’s SUV. Fortunately, Louie’s faded orange Ford Fiesta was parked across the street. Louie stepped into the office a moment later. He was almost as red-faced as Tubby Gustafson.
He gave me the perfunctory wave, tossed his briefcase onto the picnic table, and settled into his desk chair. After a minute or two, he said, “Missed you this morning. Were you working or sleeping in someone’s bed?”
“It’s been an interesting twenty-four hours.” I proceeded to fill him in on finding Taylor camped out in the school cloakroom, putting him up at my house, and taking him shopping this morning. “Then, just to remind me that no good deed goes unpunished, Tubby Gustafson and Fat Freddy showed up. You missed them by about twenty minutes.”
“Perfect timing on my part. Hey, I’m thinking of capping off the day with a news briefing at The Spot. You interested?”
“Oh, man, I could use it, but I’ve got something lined up with Taylor. Afraid I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Suit yourself,” Louie said. “I think I’ll head over there now. Are you in tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ve got someone coming in around nine.”
“I’ll probably be here. See you then,” Louie said and headed out the door.
I sent a text message to Taylor, ‘You need a ride?’
I got an almost instant reply. ‘Sitting on your front porch.’
I decided to head home. I picked up Morton’s leash and clicked it onto his collar. I was just about to head out the door when I glanced at the paintings and recalled Tubby staring at them and mumbling, “Interesting.” I gathered up the paintings, and we left the office. Morton hopped in the back seat as I opened the trunk and laid the paintings inside.
Chapter 22
Taylor gave me a wave as I pulled into the driveway. “Hey,” I called, climbing out from behind the wheel. “I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long?”
“No, I just decided to walk down here after school. I checked it on my phone. It’s two and a half miles.”
Morton barked at the sound of Taylor’s voice. I opened the rear door. He hopped out and made a b-line for Taylor sitting on the front porch. “How’d
school go?”
Taylor grinned. “It was different. Real different. A couple girls actually said hi to me, and a guy two lockers down nodded at me.”
“That’s great. Did you make it to that class where you have to write the paper?”
“Yeah, all the kids were talking about Ramona and her gang going to the tattoo place tonight.”
“Yeah, Inkredible. Come on. Let’s head inside. I got an idea we can discuss over dinner.”
“Actually, I was thinking I should maybe take Morton for a walk if that’s okay.”
“Are you kidding? He’d love it. Take him for a couple of blocks, and I’ll get dinner going while you guys are out.”
Morton’s tail was wagging back and forth as Taylor took hold of the leash. “See you guys in about twenty minutes,” I called, and Taylor waved back.
I had chicken breasts and sliced red peppers frying up when they got back. “How did the walk go?” I asked as I tossed a biscuit Morton’s way. He caught it in midair and hurried to a corner so he wouldn’t have to share.
“Pretty good. He had a couple of favorite fire hydrants he wanted to show me. This is a pretty nice area you live in, lots of big old houses.”
“Yeah, it was down on hard times back in the sixties and seventies, and a bunch of young couples moved in and started restoring the places themselves. I’ve met some of them, interesting folks. Why don’t you wash up and set two places at the counter. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes. Check the fridge for something you want to drink. I’m just having a water.”
“You sure I’m not stealing all the root beer from you?”
“No, not at all. In fact, it’s better that you have it rather than me. We’ll have to maybe do some grocery shopping tomorrow or Sunday. We’ll load up for the next week’s meals.” I turned off the stove, dished up the chicken breasts and the roast peppers, and set a plate down in front of Taylor. I grabbed my plate and pulled out a stool.
