The Mentor

by Rebecca Forster

  “Are you making headway on the judge’s office?”

  She threw her purse at her feet and shook her head.

  “There’s still a lot to do.” It was as good an answer as any for now. “I’ve been monitoring some other things.”

  “Can you take a break?” Eli asked. His left hand was on the wheel and his shoulders were turned toward her. It was warm outside, but he had on an argyle sweater done up in golds and browns. It looked good on him. She thought of how good he looked wearing nothing at all. She cocked a wry smile. He laughed, “What?”

  “Never mind. It’s not one of those things you should discuss in the middle of the afternoon, in public, in a car. I’m glad you came back after that disaster with Allan.”

  “Thought you’d figured out I keep turning up like a bad penny.” Eli moved around a bit more. His hand was off the wheel and both were planted on the stick shift. He looked like he was praying or begging. She doubted he was begging. “Here’s the thing. I saw Damien Boyd today. I’ll be really honest, Lauren, I went to see that kid because I thought he would implicate Lassiter in a conspiracy. I figured Lassiter hired Boyd to do the hit.”

  “And?” Lauren asked straight on.

  “And I don’t know what to think. The only thing I do know is if that kid killed Wilson Caufeld then it’s time I quit this job because I’m missing something big.” Lauren nodded, and she stayed and that made Eli bolder. “I want you to come with me to see Damien Boyd’s mother.”

  “And the reason is?”

  “I don’t know, Lauren. I only know that if I leave this to Mark Jackson this guy might be convicted of a murder he didn’t commit. Judge Caufeld wouldn’t want it either.” He touched her hand. “Will you come with me? Will you listen to her and see what you think? Will you do it for the judge?”

  Lauren slid in her seat until she was facing forward. Her eyes were narrowed as she scanned the streets. Everyone was back from lunch long ago, but the streets were still busy. She wondered how many of their lives were in shambles. Which one of them had lived through the unthinkable and which had given up, who had gone on? Hadn’t there come a moment in their lives when one choice would make the difference between a bright future and despair? Had any of them sat where she sat now?

  She turned her head toward Eli. He hadn’t moved an inch. It was funny that after all the tragedy it should be him, someone without a grand title, an FBI agent of all things, who would be the one to call on her to prove what she was made of.

  “I’ll do it for you,” she said and slipped on her sunglasses.

  23

  “Violetta Boyd?”

  The woman was tall and thin like her son. In fact, she was tall and thin like the three other children who were playing outside and the one that could be seen through the window of the small house with the chain link fence surrounding it. She was stitching jeans, closing a hole in a knee that had already seen a patch or two. Her fingers never stopped but her eyes did. Those eyes pegged Eli and Lauren and kept them skewered where they stood on the street side of her fence.

  “I already told you everything you need to know. Leave me alone or it’s harassment. I know a lawyer.”

  Violetta did lower her eyes, but only to tie off the thread and snapped it with her finger. She was well practiced and probably had eyes on top of her head.

  “I am a lawyer, Mrs. Boyd and believe me we’re not here to harass you,” Lauren called.

  “What about him?” She raised her chin toward Eli.

  “FBI. Would you like to see our identification?”

  Violetta laughed. “Naw, I already knew he was something like that. Just wanted to see what you’d say.” She sobered quickly and stood up. Tall and lanky, she was joined with rubber bands like her son. “We still don’t have anything to talk about.”

  “We think Damien’s being railroaded,” Eli called, lifting the latch on the fence. Violetta planted herself on her porch and the children stopped playing. Obviously, they’d seen this stance before.

  “That’s a new way of getting past the front door. More polite than bustin’ it down.”

  “Is it going to get us in?” Eli called even though they all knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “I guess. Come on in.”

  The gate was opened. A dog came round the side of the house. It was a big black thing that looked to Violetta for a clue. Obviously, he got it, because he dipped his head and sniffed his way out of sight again. Violetta didn’t wait for them. Lauren said hi to the kids in the yard as they walked up the path. Eli lagged behind, bags of M&Ms passed from him to the kids. Lauren thought he had redefined the concept of deep pockets. Inside, the fourth child was nowhere to be seen. By the time Eli came in, Lauren was on the couch. He sat beside her, facing their hostess. Violetta was in a chair.

  “I’m not going to offer you anything to drink or eat. I don’t want you to stay that long. I gotta go to work at seven anyway.” Violetta’s eyes flicked to Lauren who looked right back. “You don’t look like you want to be here.”

  “Eli was heading here so I came.” Lauren said honestly.

  “Eli, huh? Eli comin’.” Violetta laughed again and it was a hearty sound. “Well, Eli, what’s on your mind?”

  “I want to know about Damien. I want to know about the night Judge Caufeld was killed. I want to know anything you can think to talk about: that night, Damien, yourself.”

  “Why not talk about the judge?” Lauren raised a brow and Violetta enjoyed her little surprise. “Nobody thought to even ask that one. Not even you. You didn’t know we knowed who he was, did you? That’s why there’s something to laugh about here. God is playing a good joke, Mr. Eli. That judge, Caufeld, he’s going to take two of my men from me. Oh, Lordy, that’s a pity.”

  Eli sat back. Patience time. Lauren was on the edge of the couch. Violetta lost her humor and then lost herself in some memory. Lauren had the sense that the woman was rocking but it must have been an illusion. Her chair sat on four big legs solidly planted on the worn carpet.

  “I’m tellin’ you, when I heard who it was been shot, I figured there’d be trouble for my family. I didn’t know how it would come, but I knew it was on the way. Judge Caufeld put my man in jail. Put him away in the penitentiary because he murdered a man.” The woman’s dark eyes came up. They weren’t as hard as they were before. “I’m not saying he didn’t murder that fellow, but I’ll tell you I don’t know he deserved hard time like that. The man he killed was bad. Not that it mattered in the end. He died in there, not three years after he started serving that time.”

  “Did Damien know about this?” Lauren asked.

  “I don’t keep things from my children,” Violetta scoffed.

  “I think that’s wise,” Eli said, “but I also think that kind of history could be a perfect motive for murdering Wilson Caufeld.”

  She laughed again. “Yeah, could be. Then I say, After all this time? Have you met my Damien?” Eli nodded. “Then you know he isn’t exactly the type to focus now, is he?”

  “He seemed to be very nice. He was afraid.”

  “He should be because this law uses boys like him. They make them examples, or they make them causes. They don’t look at the boy. I thought they did once, but Damien didn’t quite make it out. He got arrested for burglary when he was thirteen, not quite fourteen.”

  “Did he go to Youth Authority?” Lauren asked.

  “Naw,” Violetta answered, “they did him like an adult. Got him a fancy court-appointed attorney. This man was so slick. He was just a good lookin’ man. Even made me think twice. He made Damien a cause. Said all the right things and did all the right talkin’ in court, but I’ll tell you I sure do wish he’d left well ’nough alone. I did pray he’d have a regular PD then he’d probably be sittin’ in jail doin’ his time for burglary. If he’d been doin’ his time, he wouldn’t have been on the street, then none of this would have happened.”

  Suddenly the living room erupted. Two of Violett
a’s children tumbled through the front door. She was up like a flash, marionette arms flailing as her voice rose an octave. She chattered so fast Lauren couldn’t understand a word she said. Violetta swatted the biggest one who put his dukes up and danced around her before running off laughing. A few more words tossed at the smaller one and she ran, too. Violetta sat down as if nothing had happened.

  “Look, you can tear this house apart and I’m tellin’ you, there isn’t nothin’ to find. Not a syringe or a nickel bag. There ain’t no drugs here. You won’t find a gun ’cause I won’t have it. I ain’t sayin’ Damien’s an angel ’cause if he was he wouldn’t be in court in the first place, but he’s no bad criminal and he ain’t no murderer. That boy couldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t do it, for a man he never did know. He’ll fight for me,” she said proudly, “he might even fight for some of them.” She jerked her head toward the sound of children. “He’ll steal for us, that’s sure. He wouldn’t kill for nothin’, and if you’ve seen him you know that.”

  “I do know that,” Eli answered.

  “Why you here then?” Violetta seemed to accept Eli at face value, but Lauren still bothered her. “You’re not a public defender. You got that smart, rich look. You would have done the same as Damien’s pro-bono man. He was a fancy lawyer, thought he was doin’ some good but all he was doin’ was makin’ things worse.” She ended in disgust, “Mr. Las-si-ter didn’ know what he was doin’ when he got my Damien off.”

  Lauren was standing and she didn’t quite know when she had managed to do that. Violetta was looking up at her. Eli was touching her hand that hung at her side. Lauren was out the door without a word. Behind her Eli was talking sweetly, probably shaking that woman’s hand and thanking her for her time, but Lauren couldn’t breathe in that big room. The dark had come so suddenly it spooked her. She was holding onto Violetta’s fence when she heard the screen door open and close. Only Eli came out.

  “You okay?” He touched her arm. She shook him off gently and hugged herself. They started walking, Lauren counting the times she saw the tips of her shoes as they went.

  “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t thinking,” Lauren finally said.

  “I wasn’t exactly suave myself.” Eli walked with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the sidewalk. “So, what are you thinking?”

  “Probably what you are. That was damned odd.” Lauren’s eyes slid his way. “Did you know about that?”

  Eli shook his head. “No. I was hoping I’d find something that might give me a link, but I never expected it to be that blatant. Now that I’ve heard it, I have to tell you it makes my skin crawl.”

  “Okay, so you’re considering a murder for hire,” Lauren stopped, and her face was serious when she looked at him. “But I thought you said you didn’t think Damien could have pulled the trigger.”

  “I still don’t. Maybe Damien just put Lassiter in touch with one of his homeboys. Maybe one of them did the deed. There was a gang of kids that night; it could have been any of them.” Eli let her think about that for a moment. “This is where he died, Lauren. Right there. Wilson was shot right there. Men like him don’t grow on trees. Even if it hurts you to find out the truth, at least help me find it.”

  “Eli, I want to tell you...”

  Lauren couldn’t finish. They weren’t alone. Men materialized out of the gathering gloom of twilight. They were young men in shorts and jeans so loose, so huge, they seemed to magically hover around their thin hips. On their heads were caps pulled low until eyes were only hinted at, hairnets or heads completely shaved. They wore big shirts open to show tattoos and they moved with big, deep steps. They were in your face, taking the space. They had Lauren’s attention and Eli’s too.

  “Yo, man.” They closed in. Two steps. Two words. Two steps. Lauren did a half turn either way to get the lay of the land.

  “My man,” Eli said back.

  “You bein’ gettin’ killed down this way, know what I’m sayin’? Folks get killed down here, right where you’re standin’, know what I’m sayin’?”

  “I heard. You Damien’s homeboys?”

  The talker ignored the question and checked out Lauren. “Your woman? You bring your woman on our turf and you gotta be crazy, man.”

  “I came for Damien, know what I’m sayin’?” Eli parodied. Lauren almost raised an objection. She thought better of it.

  “You seen Damien? He’s our boy, know what I’m sayin’? He don’ be doin’ nothin’.”

  “We know that,” Eli moved closer to the headman and he didn’t back off, neither did he move forward. “We talked to Violetta. We talked to Damien. So we’ve got to go back with something that’s going to help him. Anybody talk to you about this?”

  They all laughed: giggly and snickering. Heads turned to view one another, and the friend’s eyes mirrored that they were cool. Very bad.

  “Yeah.” Another boy stepped up. Shorter than the first, there was a scar on his cheek and four fingers on one hand. He threw a sign and Lauren wondered if it was one only he could throw. “They let us have coffee so we could tell ’em what went down while we was comfortable, know what...”

  More laughing. The leader waved away this new man before he could ask Eli again if he had a clue what he was sayin’.

  “What you take this for? They wanna find out who offed that guy they shouldn’ be pointin’ to us, man. Them bros should talk to us ’cause we saw the car, we saw the dude that done it, know what I’m sayin’? A tall dude and one of them cars. You knowed the kind.”

  “What kind?” Eli reached into his pocket. Beneath the baggy clothes, bodies went rigid, fingers moved for weapons, but none appeared. Lauren stayed alert. Eli said, “Hey, man. I’m cool.”

  Eli talked slowly and calmly. When his hand came out of his jacket, Eli was holding up a fifty that was snatched in a flash.

  “I don’t know what kind,” the leader said. “I ain’t one to tell you how all them cars are. Every one look alike, know what I’m sayin’? You know, like an egg, you hear me talkin’?”

  “An expensive egg? An old one? Damaged?”

  “Looked new, I mean no holes or nothin’.” He looked around. Heads nodded. “Look, man, we don’t wanna see Damien go down. He’s my man. He’s cool, understand what I’m sayin?”

  “Yeah, I understand what’s going down.” Eli nodded. “What about the man you saw?”

  He shrugged, “I don’ know. It was a tall dude. Moved fast. We was way back and it was dark. Man, we was just hangin’. We come around that corner, know what I’m sayin’?” He pointed behind him and Eli squinted. Lauren looked, too. It was a long block and, even now as the light faded, it was hard to see. Overgrown bushes, a streetlamp, busted and hanging by a thread. And then there were the witnesses. High on life or otherwise, they wouldn’t have been sharp until...

  “Man, we heard...bam, bam...man, we’re gone. Shit, there be no hardware here. We be goin’ with the truce, my man?”

  “I know. Damien said you were cool on that. No guns. We got it. Could you identify who you saw?”

  They all shook their heads. “No way. We feel bad for that. Damien’s gonna fry. A judge, man. That’s not cool. But he ain’t got no gun. We ain’t got no reason to kill anyone ’cept gang, and we’re not doin’ that. You know where I’m comin’ from?”

  “Listen, my man. Do you know anybody who came to see Damien? A white guy? Tall? Any of you seen a guy like that? Or anybody who might have seen what you saw?”

  “Maybe, there,” the boy pointed to a house they had passed three doors back. Lauren looked up and eyed the place, well-kept, a nice place in this very changed neighborhood. She was checking out the house number when her arm flew up as a car sped toward them with the brights blazing. Damien’s homeboys scattered. Eli threw his arms around Lauren as the car swerved then turned hard, the front wheels flying over the curb, the giant piece of metal coming to a stop five feet in front of them.

  Alone on the street, they clung to one another in the sudde
n silence. A dog barked. A woman called. The front door of the house Lauren had been looking at opened and a woman peered out. But mostly Lauren felt people cringing behind their doors, turning away, pretending four big men were not opening four big doors and going at the two white people standing together in the glare of the headlights.

  Unhurried, they came toward Eli who handed Lauren back and behind him. He went to meet the men. Their faces were dissected by the headlights, and Lauren, trying to memorize those faces, only had vague impressions of each of them. Collectively she had no problem describing them. They were muscled and tight. They walked as if they never walked on any ground that didn’t belong to them. They formed a semicircle.

  “Eli,” one of them said. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched and friendly. Lauren felt the breath come back into her. They were friends. They talked as if they’d known Eli forever.

  “Yeah,” Eli said.

  “We got a message.” This person’s voice was deeper but not as friendly.

  Clearly illuminated in the bright light, Eli raised his head recognizing these men with a half-smile. Lauren almost expected him to offer a bag of M&Ms. Before he could, the smallest of his new playmates buried his fist in Eli’s middle and the man grunted with pleasure.

  Eli didn’t cry out as he was doubled up and half raised off the ground by the force of the blow. Lauren cried out for him, only to silence herself as another man made a move toward her. Another snapped his fingers and Lauren was safe. Like a cat she skirted around them all and threw herself over Eli only to be grabbed, her arms pinned behind her.

  It was over in another second. A clip on Eli’s jaw. Another on the back of the neck. The fourth gave him a kick along with a few words of advice.

  “There’s a man who wants you to shut up, Eli. We think you should listen to this man. We think you should listen now.” The man who had kicked Eli leaned down close. “We think you know who you’re supposed to be listening to, right, Eli?”