Secondhand Smoke

by Karen E. Olson

  “We have a bit of a situation.”

  Dick was strangely quiet, his eyes on the ground. I waited.

  “Alexandra Giametti received a phone call from Immaculata Amato. She wants to file a restraining order against you and Dick.”

  “What?” I asked. “Why?”

  “She says you’re harassing her in her time of grief.” He looked at Dick. “She’s very upset about your visit yesterday.” He turned back to me. “And she says you threatened her son, you and that private investigator.”

  “Hey, that wasn’t me. That was all Vinny.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the two reporters who are working this story have now been shut out by the victim’s family because they overstepped their bounds.”

  What the fuck was this all about? I wasn’t even on the story anymore. And to be lumped in with Dick, that was the absolute worst thing.

  “Your mother calmed her down, Annie, but you have to stay away from her and her son.” He turned to Dick. “You’re going to have to get this story without them.”

  “What were you asking them about when I showed up there?” I asked Dick. “Were you asking them about how the cops think Sal might have torched the restaurant?”

  Dick nodded meekly.

  “Was that all?”

  He shook his head, like a kid who got caught coloring on the walls.

  “So are you going to tell us?” I demanded.

  He gulped. “Well, Mrs. Amato told me to go away when I asked about Sal’s gambling operation. We still need to get that on the record. And then I said I wanted to see the garage, to see if the gasoline was there that started the fire. My source said the gasoline was found in the garage.” His voice was barely audible. Bill Bennett and I moved closer to him.

  “First off, if the cops found gasoline in the garage, they probably took it for evidence, so it’s probably not there anymore,” I said. “Second, this is not exactly the way to get a story, Dick. You can’t fuck with these people. They know people, if you get my drift.”

  He snapped out of it. “People like your mother and your father, right?”

  “You can leave her mother out of this,” Bill Bennett said sternly. “Where’s your father, Annie? That’s the other side of this.”

  I shrugged. “I really don’t know where he is, Bill. He’s disappeared, like Sal did, and I sure as hell hope he doesn’t end up dead like Sal.” I hadn’t voiced that fear before, and it sent shivers down my back.

  Bill Bennett scratched his chin. “So where does all this leave us? Do I need to get another reporter on this story?”

  An ugly thought had started swirling around in my head. If Mac wanted to file a restraining order against us to keep us from asking any more questions, maybe Dick was right, maybe his source was right. Maybe Sal had torched the place.

  “We can’t let Mac and Pete keep us from doing our jobs,” I told Bill Bennett. “We can get to the bottom of this without them. They know something, and maybe they think this will stop us. Mickey Hayward’s arraignment is tomorrow. Dick can cover that and he wouldn’t even have to see Mac or Pete. That’s pretty simple. If you want, I can nose around about the gasoline thing.”

  “But you’re a part of the story, you found Sal Amato. You shouldn’t even be covering this anymore.”

  I had to find out what was going on, and I was going to do it whether I covered it or not. The look on my face must have told Bill Bennett everything I was thinking, because finally he said, “All right. Can you try to get this gasoline thing confirmed? Just stay away from the Amatos. If you can do this without bothering them and getting the paper in trouble, do what you need to.” He got up, and I thought that was it, but then he stared me straight in the eye. “If your father contacts you, I want to hear about it. I don’t want you to protect him. He needs to turn himself in. If he’s innocent, it will be proven.”

  He didn’t need to know that Dad had already called me. Because I still didn’t know where the hell he was, so what difference would it make?

  Dick and I watched him walk through the newsroom and disappear around the corner, going back upstairs to his cushy office.

  “We’re still on it,” Dick said quietly.

  “Only because there’s no one else to put on this right now. He didn’t have a choice. And it’s the biggest thing since that Yalie got murdered in September.” I paused. “So tell me more what your source”—and I emphasized the word source—“told you about this gasoline.”

  “Accelerant was found in Sal’s garage,” he said.

  “And the accelerant that started the fire was gasoline?”

  He nodded.

  That’s what my mother had said, too, so this wasn’t off the mark. “So maybe he had some left over from the lawn mower. A lot of people have gasoline in their garages.”

  “Annie, he doesn’t have a yard. What would he need a lawn mower for?”

  He had a point. Mac had turned what little property they had into flower gardens a long time ago.

  “What about a snow blower?” I suggested. “Or a generator?” I was grabbing at straws; I had no clue about what sorts of machinery found in a person’s house would need gasoline.

  That stumped Dick. He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “We have to tread lightly on this. We can’t find ourselves in a middle of a libel suit if we’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong,” Dick insisted. “I’ve got a reliable source.”

  If it was Tom, he certainly was reliable.

  “Did your source say anything else?” I asked.

  Dick stared at the ground a second, then looked back up at me, his eyes bright. “Sal’s finances weren’t what they should be.”

  “What was wrong with them?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s all he said.”

  We had precious little to go on.

  I got up, put on my puffy coat, and picked up my bag. “Dick, keep your head down.” I left him there, and I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked away. It was a creepy feeling.

  Chapter 22

  I had no choice but to go to the police department to find Tom. I didn’t have any ideas about how to find my father, so following up on this gasoline thing was the next best thing. Dick had certainly fucked up his end of it. He should never have confronted Mac and Pete with that, unless he had absolute proof. And then he should have called them only for a comment, not parked himself on their doorstep and demanded answers.

  He was a little too eager, a little too “in your face.” I guess I could’ve tried to explain the rules to him, but I had to be honest with myself. I couldn’t give him my secrets without giving him my job. Dick was cheap labor, unlike me, who had been hired when money was still used as a lure. And if he could do my job as well as I could, then I’d be out as fast as Bill Bennett could say “layoffs.”

  So in a way, it was good that he’d gotten us in trouble, although I wish Mac and Pete had kept me out of it. I hadn’t pushed them like Dick, but I guess they were just lashing out at the paper. But as I’d told Bill Bennett, I didn’t really need them right now, so it wasn’t a huge problem.

  I could’ve called Tom, but I wanted to see him face-to-face when I asked about the gasoline and Sal’s mysterious financial situation. Even if Dick had gotten this from someone else, Tom would know about it, since he was the primary detective on the case. And if he didn’t, it would be either because someone hadn’t told him and it would piss him off or because it wasn’t true. I was pretty sure I would be able to tell just by watching his eyes.

  As luck would have it, he was coming out of police headquarters as I was going in, and we stood in front of the doors awkwardly, neither of us sure how to greet the other.

  Finally, I said, “Hey, there. Just the guy I wanted to see.”

  He smirked and ran a hand through his hair. “Just my luck.” But he didn’t run away, he didn’t even start walking. We continued to stand there like idiots, starin
g at each other for another few seconds.

  “Got something to ask,” I said.

  “Figured that.”

  “Will you answer?”

  “Depends.”

  We weren’t getting anywhere with this shit. I motioned him to follow me down the steps and onto the sidewalk, where we’d be in less danger of being overheard.

  “Heard some gasoline was found in Sal’s garage and it might have been the gasoline that was used to torch the restaurant.”

  His eyes flickered for a second, and he couldn’t hide it. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Around.”

  “Around where?”

  “I can’t say. Is it true?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Oh, cut the shit, Tom,” I said a little too loudly. A couple of uniforms turned around to look at us as they went up the steps a few feet away. “I know you already talked to Dick, so what harm would it do if you talked to me, too?”

  Tom grabbed my arm and pulled me along the sidewalk, farther away. “There may be some question as to who set the fire,” he said, his voice low. While I was happy he actually told me something, it was only because he’d confirmed he was Dick’s source without saying so. Which wasn’t good. But I might as well try to get more out of him while I could.

  “So the arson charge might be dropped against Mickey?”

  “Could be. We’re still gathering evidence.”

  “What about the murder?”

  “Hell, we’ve got him there. Gun in the car. It had been shot recently, and forensics matched it to the bullet found in LeeAnn.”

  Seemed pretty clear-cut to me, too. “So it’s the fire that’s in question.”

  “Possible Sal didn’t know she was in there. She was on the floor in the front corner, the fire was set near the restrooms in the middle of the building. He may not have even gone in any farther.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and there were bags under his eyes.

  “You okay?” I asked softly.

  His eyes hardened, and he snickered. “Yeah, like you care.”

  I did care. I cared a lot. But how much? Who the hell knew. I certainly didn’t.

  “Is there any other proof?” I asked, not wanting to remind him that he’d shut me out. For some reason he was talking, and I wasn’t about to stop him.

  “Of what?”

  “That Sal was the one who set the fire, not Mickey.”

  “Other than it was his place, and he’d just taken a huge loan out for renovations?”

  This could be the financial problem Dick mentioned. “Really?”

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, he’d just taken a loan out. Talking about fifty grand to do some renovations.” He paused, then smiled as my mouth opened to ask the next question. But I didn’t have to ask. “The money was deposited Wednesday afternoon, then the place burns to the ground before morning.”

  “So the money’s in the bank?”

  His smile got larger; he was loving this one. “There was a cash withdrawal about an hour after the deposit.”

  “Oh, Christ. Cash?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How much?”

  “More than half of it.”

  “So where’s the money?”

  Tom shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  Shit. Money disappears, the restaurant goes up in flames, Sal vanishes. But then again, he didn’t, did he. He was still here, all that time. And that’s what I couldn’t figure out. And what Tom couldn’t figure out, either, because I could see the same look in his eyes as I probably had in mine.

  “So something got screwed up,” I said.

  “Yeah. Maybe it was LeeAnn, maybe not. But for some reason, Sal didn’t get out of town like it seems he was planning to.”

  “Why do you think my father is involved?” I had to ask.

  Tom narrowed his eyes at me, as if he thought I knew more about my father than I did. I started to protest, and he put a finger to my lips. “His fingerprints were found at the house where Sal had been staying. We got a tip Sal was there. He was gone by the time we got there, but we dusted and found his fingerprints, and your father’s and Dominic Gaudio’s.” He paused. “You should tell me where he is.”

  That’s why he was talking to me. He thought if he told me stuff, I’d give up my dad. One hand washes the other and all that shit.

  “Have you been to Dominic Gaudio’s?”

  Tom snorted. “Yeah, sure. We had a search warrant. Clean as a goddamn whistle. The old man just sat in his fucking Barcalounger and pretended he didn’t know who we were. His daughter followed us around so close we kept tripping over her.”

  “If my father’s not there and he’s checked out of the Omni, then I don’t have a clue where he is, Tom,” I said. “I haven’t seen him.” I didn’t mention the phone call this morning. “You know, this sounds a little too familiar. The gun that killed LeeAnn was found in Mickey’s car, my father’s fingerprints show up in Sal’s hideaway, what’s up with that? Seems both of them would be smarter than that.” At least my dad would be. Mickey, well, it was a crapshoot.

  Tom nodded. “You’re right. It does seem a little too pat. But fingerprints don’t lie.”

  “But they might obscure the truth.”

  “Your father showed up almost immediately after the fire.”

  “Because he’s an old friend of Sal’s.”

  “Or maybe because he was going to help Sal get out of here.”

  It was exactly what I’d thought, but I couldn’t admit it. I had to give him something else, someone else to concentrate on other than my father.

  “I’ve heard my dad’s not the only one who’s blown into town, if you know what I mean,” I said quietly, thinking about that Cadillac with the New York plates.

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, we know about that.”

  They did? “But you still think my father is involved?”

  “Your father probably knows everything that’s going on.”

  I was quiet for a second. He probably did. Which didn’t bode well for him.

  “Does your boyfriend have any ideas about this?” Tom emphasized the word boyfriend as if he were saying the word diarrhea.

  I shook my head. “No, Vinny’s in the dark, too.” It wasn’t until after I said it that I realized I hadn’t disputed Tom’s use of the word boyfriend to describe Vinny, even though it certainly wasn’t accurate.

  “Are you sure about that?” Something in his voice made me look more closely at his face.

  I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to say so. “Why?”

  “Feds think he’s up to something.”

  “Paula and her partner went to see him this morning, I know that.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “Oh, shit, Tom, I know about it, but not because I was there. I was following Paula. They went there. That’s all I know. But I don’t know what Vinny knows or what the feds think he knows. Are the feds saying anything to you?”

  Tom snickered. “They’re taking everything we’re finding out and not telling us a damn thing in return.”

  “So what’s your next move?”

  “What’s yours?”

  I shrugged. “No clue.”

  “If you hear from your father and you don’t tell me and I find out about it, I’m going to be pretty pissed at you. I could bring you in on obstruction of justice.” His blue eyes were dark, and I knew he meant business.

  “Yeah, sure, I know.”

  “Your boyfriend, too.” It was the way he said it that made me think if he could’ve, he would’ve shot me right there and put us both out of our misery.

  Which reminded me I still had that stupid gun in my bag. I got in the car and headed toward my apartment so I could put the gun back in its drawer. I’d been out all day; no one had threatened me, no one had jumped me, I was in one piece. The FBI was probably following me. So there was no need for a firearm. I sighed with relief. I hated the thing.

  But when I turned off State Stre
et onto Water, Vinny’s SUV came up on my ass. I pulled into the parking lot at what used to be Big Tony’s bar but is now something else, I always forget the name.

  “Did you get anything out of Tom?” Vinny asked, climbing out of the Explorer.

  “No.” I’d rolled down my window and could see my breath practically reach Vinny, who was a good three feet away but getting closer. How the hell did he know I’d talked to Tom? Jesus, I wasn’t being followed by the FBI. It was Vinny. “I’m on my way home,” I said curtly.

  He shook his head. “Get out of the car and come with me. I have something to show you.”

  I must have looked annoyed, because a slow, sexy smile crawled across his face. “Aw, come on, Annie. It could be fun.”

  I hesitated, thinking about this morning. He opened the door. “Get out, okay? It’s important.”

  My feet moved without telling me, and I was in the SUV before you could say “home wrecker.”

  He started up the engine, but before he pulled out, he turned and looked at me, right in the eyes, for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only about three seconds. “I know I shouldn’t expect you to believe anything I say because I certainly haven’t shown you in the right way how much I care about you, but when this is all over, I promise you, things will be different.”

  The tires screeched as the Explorer skidded on some ice and found dry pavement, and Vinny was watching the road instead of me.

  I didn’t think he was expecting any sort of response, so I asked, “Have you found my father?”

  His mouth twitched as though he were going to smile, but he didn’t. “Just relax, okay?”

  I clutched my bag in my lap, and I could feel the outline of the gun inside. It preoccupied me long enough so that when I finally focused again on where we were, we were pulling up in front of Vinny’s office on Trumbull Street.

  Just our luck, Madame Shara was coming in from the opposite side of the sidewalk. I knew it was her, because who else would be swathed in brightly colored scarves wrapped from her head to her knees?

  “Ah, Vincent!” she exclaimed as she came up the steps beside us. “And who is the lovely young lady?”

  I tried to ignore her as we stepped inside, but Vinny stopped at his box to collect his mail, which encouraged her.