by Tracy Sharp
Jack stayed silent beside me, but I could feel tension radiating off him in waves. I kept my face as neutral as I could when I spoke again. “May I sit down?”
Shanahan gestured to the chair in front of me. “Oh, please! Make yourself at home!”
I nodded my thanks and sat down at the table. I hoped to show a small measure of respect by not standing over the man, but facing him at eye level. “I want a truce.”
He laughed again. It was getting old.
“You want a truce?”
“Sir, I’m very sorry about your limo driver, but when I injured his eye he had my face shoved down into a puddle, trying to drown me. I really had no choice. He also shot me.” I moved my T-shirt aside to show him the still healing bullet hole.
Shanahan frowned. “He tried to drown you and he shot you?”
“Yes, sir, he did.” I didn’t mention that he’d shot me after I gouged his eye out.
“You’re aware, of course, that nothing would’ve happened to you if you’d kept your nose out of my business? I believe Mr. Dawson warned you.”
I glanced at Mr. Dawson, who wasn’t amused by me at all. His face was devoid of expression.
“Yes, sir, he did. But I was paid to do a job. Chloe Nolan’s father hired me to find out what had happened to her, since she’d disappeared.”
Shanahan’s smile was cold. “And you’re not one to scare easily, are you?”
“No, sir. I’m not.”
“I know, Ms. Ryan. I’ve done my research on you. I probably know things about you that you don’t even know yourself.”
I wanted to tell him to kiss my ass, but I said nothing.
“That business with the Asian ladies last year. That was some impressive work.”
“Thank you.”
“Nobody hired you for that job, though, did they?”
I tried not to squirm under his steady gaze. “No.”
“You’re a softy, aren’t you, Ms. Ryan?”
“I’m a human being, Mr. Shanahan. I just don’t like seeing those who are helpless being exploited.”
He sat back and laced his hands over his stomach. He tilted his head a little as he watched me, his wide smile gone. “You’ve been a problem for me, Ms. Ryan. Tell me why I should even let you and your friend Jack walk out of here?” He looked at Jack, a smirk playing on his thin lips.
I shrugged. “Karma?”
He gave me a humorless smile which didn’t touch his eyes.
“Mr. Shanahan, if you don’t mind my saying, you don’t seem to be the type who would resort to kidnapping a child.”
His face took on a weary expression. “I am not a kidnapper. Nelson’s been more of a problem for me than you have. He’s my brother’s son. Your client put my brother away.” A strange light seemed to emanate from his eyes. “My brother made me promise to take care of Nelson, then he was murdered in prison.” Something like grief passed over his face. “So I’m responsible for Nelson.” He looked away for a moment, considering. “I’m sorry about the little girl. That never should have happened.”
“Yes, Nelson is a bit out of control, sir. I wasn’t impressed by the box he left at my front door.”
“Ah, that was a bad bit of business.”
To say the least. “Yes, sir. It certainly was.”
“Unfortunately, Nelson can’t be disciplined. Not quite right upstairs, I’m afraid.”
Instead of agreeing with him and risking insulting him again, I stayed quiet.
“Chloe is gone, Ms. Ryan.”
“Gone, sir?” Oh, God, I thought. Please don’t say she’s dead. Please don’t say that Nelson killed her.
“She ran away.”
Relief fell over me.
“It seems she snuck out of a window with the little girl to bring her to you. She never returned.”
I slowly nodded. Not sure where he was going with this.
“Again, Nelson’s doing. She’s afraid of him. Sadly, he needs to be taken care of.”
Funny. That was my thought exactly. “You must love her very much to go to all the trouble of helping her fake her own death.”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Will you let her go, sir?”
“I thought her identity would be safe with me.” His eyes bore into my own. “Because of you, she had to disappear again. I only hope she’s safe. I’ll miss her.” He looked down at the table for a long moment. When he looked at me again, his eyes were bright. “You’re a good private investigator, Ms. Ryan. I’ll give you your truce.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m very glad to hear it.”
He shrugged. “You never know when I may need your services myself.”
That was a lovely thought. I stood and Jack and I turned our backs on Shanahan and Dawson to walk away.
“Oh, and, Ms. Ryan?”
I turned to face Shanahan again, expecting to see his gun pointing at me just before he blew my head off. But he wasn’t holding one.
“Nelson won’t be a bother to you anymore.”
I nodded once and headed for the door, Jack close behind me.
“Well, that was intense,” Jack said as we stepped outside.
“Just a little.” I found myself taking deep breaths, amazed that we weren’t dead and being buried in a shallow grave right then. But it looked as if that shallow grave wouldn’t be standing empty for long. If Jack and I understood what Shanahan had said, that particular hole in the ground now had Nelson’s name on it.
“Where to now?” Jack asked me. “Let’s get far away from here before Shanahan changes his mind.”
We headed across the street toward the Jeep.
“Something’s been bothering me,” I said. “I want to go talk to that kid again.”
“You mean Skid?”
“Yeah, Skid.”
“What’s up?”
“Did you happen to notice the chain he was wearing the last time we talked to him?” I asked him.
Jack focused on the road, but he wasn’t really looking at it as he searched his memory. He shook his head. “No. Why?”
“He was wearing a gold chain. I just saw a hint of it so it didn’t hit me at the time. The rest of it was hidden beneath his T-shirt. But that design looked awfully familiar.”
Jack looked at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. I want to know how he got that chain. I seriously doubt that Tyler ever gave it to him.”
“Not willingly.”
“And not while he was still alive.”
Dusk fell over the city quickly, painting everything a nondescript gray. The horizon was lavender and orange with bright streaks of pink. If the old saying was right, it meant sailor’s delight for tomorrow. It had been a gorgeous day, and I would’ve much preferred being on a beach somewhere with my dog to putting my life into the hands of the Irish mob. Now I would end the day talking to kids who were selling the only thing they thought they had of any value to strangers who agreed with them.
The street was busy on this night. Lots of kids, lots of cars. Skid was standing over on his corner with his posse, smoking cigarettes and watching the streets as they talked. A car stopped in front of them just as we were crossing the street. Skid nodded at the driver and made his way over to the car.
Jack ran the rest of the way across the road. “Skid! Hold up!”
Skid stood with his hand on the open car door. “I got an appointment with a client.”
“I’ll reimburse you.”
Skid hesitated. He was weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, it was one less blow job he’d have to give for the same amount of cash. On the other, he’d risk pissing off a client.
Jack made the decision for him. He walked over to the driver’s side of the car and bent down to face the driver. “Take a hike.”
The man, a middle-aged suit with salt and pepper hair sprayed perfectly in place probably didn’t hear Jack with his window up, and he wasn’t about to lower it. But if he couldn’t r
ead his lips, he sure as hell read Jack’s expression loud and clear. He took off, barely missing another John making a deal with another kid.
Skid shook his head, his expression perturbed. “You just lost me a well-paying client, Jack.”
“He’s lucky I didn’t beat his ass.” Jack glared at another car that had slowed down in front of us. The car took off without stopping.
“Ah, man,” Skid whined. “You’re gonna scare all the customers away with that shit.”
Jack took out his billfold and peeled off two twenties and a ten, handing them to Skid.
“Thanks.” Skid shoved the cash in the left front pocket of his jeans. “Why are you here? I told you everything I know about what happened to Tyler.”
Jack placed his arm around Skid’s shoulder and we headed down the street, away from the strip. “Let’s take a walk.”
Skid’s eyes darted from me to Jack as we walked. “What did I do?”
“You tell us, bud,” Jack said. “You’re not being straight with us.”
“Yes I am.” Skid’s voice rose an octave from its normal pitch.
“We don’t think so,” I said.
We’d come to the doughnut shop across the street and I leaned against the building, placing the bottom of one boot behind me against the fake brick. I fished my pack of gum out of my pocket and offered it to Jack, who accepted one, and to Skid, who shook his head.
“What are you guys talking about?”
Jack still had his arm around Skid’s shoulders, and kept it there as he unwrapped his piece of gum. He popped it into his mouth, then leaned in and pulled the neck of Skid’s T-shirt down enough to reveal the chain around his neck. “Nice bling ya got there. Where’d you get it?”
“Tyler gave it to me.” Skid’s voice sounded too casual.
I snapped my gum. “He gave it to you, huh? That was awfully generous of him. Your friends usually give you the only valuable stuff they own?”
He glared at me. “He owed me.”
“For what?” Jack let go of Skid and watched his face steadily.
Skid stared at Jack for a moment, remembering something, then his eyes welled up and his chin trembled. He looked down. “Shit.”
Jack and I glanced at each other, wide-eyed. This was not expected. I looked back at the kid. “Skid?”
Skid swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “For leaving me, okay?” His voice dissolved into a shuddering sob. “Shit!”
We were all silent for a minute. The truth was staring us in the face, but it was such an unexpected development that it was hard to process. I tried to keep my mouth from dropping open as I watched the kid try to get hold of himself.
Jack patted him on the shoulder. “Tyler was more than just a buddy, wasn’t he?”
Skid nodded, unable to speak yet. The grief had hold of him, and it was coming off him in raw waves. This was no act. The kid was really hurting. “Yeah,” he choked out.
Jack placed a gentle hand on Skid’s shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was gentle too. “What happened?”
“Some really bad shit happened, man.” Skid’s red eyes looked into Jack’s, and they were haunted. “Some really bad shit.”
We took Skid to a diner not far from the strip. The place was pretty busy, and we were thankful for the buzz of other conversations around us. Nobody would pay any attention to what we were saying.
Skid looked tired. The tears had stopped, but his emotions were still close to the surface. He’d ordered a sandwich and fries, but only picked at his food. The kid was pretty thin, but if he was doing drugs, chances were he’d lost his taste for food. His lover being murdered might’ve had a bit to do with his loss of appetite as well.
I sipped my chocolate shake, hanging back from the conversation since Skid seemed to trust Jack and paid little attention to me.
Jack leaned forward a little, his forearms on either side of his empty plate. He’d almost swallowed his burger whole. “How you doin’, bud?”
Skid nodded, fingering a French fry. “Better. Thanks.”
“So what went down, man?”
Skid took a deep breath, seemed to prepare himself for what he was about to say. “This guy, he’s our drug connection...”
“What guy?”
“Phil something. I don’t know his last name.”
Jack and I looked at each other. “Phil,” I said. “You don’t say. What does he look like?”
Skid gave an impatient shake of his head, but he described a man who fit the description of Phil Morreau. The distraught boyfriend of Chloe Nolan who had been acting creepy as hell the last time we’d seen him.
Jack gently urged him on with his story.
“He was dating this chick whose father is a judge, and her brother was some city councilman or some shit. Some big cheese. Anyway, the chick told Phil that her brother was being investigated for having sex with an underage kid, some kid about fourteen years old.”
It was funny how Skid considered the kid, who was only a year or two younger than he was, to be a kid, but he didn’t consider himself to be one.
“Anyway, he comes up with this plan to make some easy money, but it would take a bit of planning on our part, Tyler and me.” His voice cracked a little on the last part of the sentence. His face took on a longing, wistful look. “Tyler was beautiful. You saw pictures. He could’ve been a model or an actor if he hadn’t got caught up in all the shit.”
Like so many others, headed for the stars but getting caught in hidden spider webs.
“He was fifteen, but he looked younger. He had an innocent way about him. When he smiled, his whole face lit up. It would just break your heart, man.” He was close to tears again, so he stopped for a few seconds.
The waitress came over and dropped the check on our table without looking at us. She had about six other tables and didn’t have time for niceties. I picked it up and pretended to be interested in it to give Skid some room.
“Anyway, I’m a little rough around the edges, as you can tell.” He grinned just a little, and for a second I could see the kid that Tyler fell in love with. A little mischievous with an ironic sense of humor. This was the kid that Tyler saw, the kid that hid behind the hard exterior.
“The plan was for Tyler to be somewhere Nolan would be for lunch. So we followed him around a bit. He liked to hang at the mall at lunchtime. He liked fast food, mostly Arby’s. So one day Tyler stood around until he saw Nolan coming. He made sure he was in front of him in the line.”
It was easy to guess what happened next. A good looking kid in grubby street clothes, looking disheveled and thrown away. Hard on his luck and startlingly handsome. An innocence irresistible to a pedophile like Nolan.
“Tyler gave him an opening. He ordered some combo but when the girl rang it up he said he didn’t have enough money to pay for it. So he said he’d just take the fries. Nolan took the bait.”
I couldn’t help the disgusted sound that escaped my mouth.
Jack’s face was reddening, his jaw muscles working. “I’ll bet he did.”
“It was actually funny. I was standing at the arcade watching them. Nolan was practically eating out of Tyler’s hand.”
“So Tyler tells him about his situation,” Jack urged.
Skid nodded. “Stepfather’s a dick. He runs away from home. Now he’s on the streets hustling so he can eat. Worked like a charm. Nolan fell head over heels for him. Within a couple of weeks Nolan put him up in his own place. But he didn’t touch him until then. Phil was getting impatient. Tyler kept trying, offering free blow jobs and whatnot, but...” He shrugged.
And whatnot. Jesus.
I frowned. “Maybe Nolan was actually trying to do the right thing. Fooling himself that he could keep his greasy hands off the kid and just take care of him.”
Jack pushed his plate away from him. “But a leopard can’t change its spots. Those bastards can’t change, even if they want to. There’s only one cure.”
I sucked on my straw, disa
ppointed by the slurping sound that came when I reached the bottom. “Well, looks like he took the cure.”
Jack’s face told us that he wasn’t one bit sorry about that. “So what happened then, Skid?”
“So we set up a few hidden cameras in the apartment. You can get ‘em pretty cheap now, so Phil got three. One for the bathroom, one for the bedroom and one for the living room.”
Jack pulled a face. “One for the bathroom?”
“Yeah. In case Nolan decided to join Tyler in the shower. You know.”
Jack’s face wrinkled. “Ah, Jesus.”
“Which he did.”
We stared at Skid.
He shrugged. “And the living room. And the bedroom.”
Jack rubbed his hands over his face, but said nothing.
I picked up the ball. “So you had a lot to work with, for the blackmail.”
“Oh, yeah. We had way more than we needed. But just to make sure, Tyler included a variety of activities in each ... instance. We got all we needed in one night.”
Christ. My stomach turned. I wanted to race out of the place and get some air, but I kept going. “But Nolan continued to lavish gifts on Tyler?”
“Oh, yeah. New clothes. The best media stuff. The jewelry. Gave him a lot of cash. Everything.”
“Were there any conditions to all this love Nolan was heaping on Tyler?”
Skid nodded. “He was supposed to stop hustling.”
I raised my eyebrows. “But he didn’t?”
Skid shook his head. “Once you’re in the life, you’re in it. It gets into your blood. It’s not just about the money anymore.”
“It’s about the risk.” Jack’s voice was flat.
“You got it.”
I could see how that happened. When kids never feel like they belong anywhere, they’re always drawn back to what they know. Those who understand them. A place where they know what’s expected of them. An expectation they know for sure they can fulfill. “Is that how Tyler ended up dead? Do you think Nolan killed him?”
Skid shook his head. “No way. He loved him. I mean, in his own twisted, screwed up way, you know?”
