Die Smiling

by Linda Ladd

  “I guess so.”

  The girl took the card and listened as her father told her about where they lived and how she would have her own room. They all got into his Mercedes and drove to his house up the coast. She felt strange, as if she were in some kind of weird dream, but she wasn’t afraid. She just didn’t know what to do or say or how to act, and she missed the boy dreadfully.

  They ate outside on a screened-in back patio they called a Florida room, which also had a swimming pool inside, but not one as big as the boy’s was. She sat in a padded deck chair and watched her little half brother put on goggles and dive after dimes and nickels her daddy threw into the water. She smiled, but still felt overwhelmed and like crying, because she didn’t know these people at all and she was going to have to live with them.

  After a while the mother took the little boy to bed, and the older one sat in the chair and looked out over the long, grassy backyard. Her father came outside later and sat down in the chair beside her. He was very polite.

  “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

  She shook her head. He brought her an ice-cold can of Pepsi, but he had a mixed drink in his hand, and she wondered if he would sit for hours and get dead drunk like her stepdaddy used to. But he only drank about half of it and then placed it on the table between them.

  “I want you to know that I searched for you. For years I looked everywhere, but your mother took you so far away that I couldn’t find you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I hired private detectives, everything, but you seemed to just vanish.”

  “Momma said you remarried and didn’t want me.”

  “She was lying. I was awarded custody by the Florida courts, that’s why she ran with you.” He was quiet for a couple of minutes, then he said, “I know this is going to be hard on you. They told me you were happy with your foster parents.”

  “Yes. I love them, and their kids.”

  “I don’t want you to be unhappy, but I need a chance to get to know you. I’ve missed all the years watching you grow up, and now look at you. You’re a young woman now and a very beautiful one.”

  She looked at him and saw the tears in his eyes. He meant it, she could tell. She was shocked. “I always wondered why you didn’t want me.”

  “I did want you. Please believe that. I can show you report after report from my investigators, but they never could turn up a lead on you. That’s why I stayed here instead of going back to Europe. It’s a miracle the social worker somehow put two and two together when they searched for your birth certificate. That’s how they found my name. I feel like God finally heard my prayers.”

  The older one stared silently at him and realized his emotion was for real. She believed him, but he was still a stranger and she felt abandoned on some alien planet. “Will you let me call home and talk to my brothers and sisters sometimes?”

  “Of course. I’ll get you your own personal cell phone and you can call them anytime you want. I know how much you’re going to miss them. And I’ll take you up there to visit whenever I can.”

  He smiled, and she smiled back because she truly did believe him. That night he gave her his own cell phone, and she lay in bed and dialed the boy’s number. He answered at once and said, “How is it? He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

  “No, they’re okay so far. I got a really nice room with its own bathroom.”

  The boy got quiet. “So you already like it there better than here, is that it?”

  The older one was startled by his angry tone. “No, of course not. It’s just not as bad as I thought it’d be. My daddy says he’s always wanted me with him, that my mom was lying about him hating me.”

  “Don’t believe him. He probably just wants to get in your pants like your stepdad.”

  “I don’t think so. He and his wife are both really nice, and I’ve got another little brother.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You belong here with me, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I miss you.”

  His voice softened. “I miss you, too. That’s all I’ve been thinking about since you left. And you should’ve seen my mom after you drove off. She bawled for an hour, and so did Bubby. He’s taking it harder than anybody.”

  “I wish I was there in bed with you.”

  “Me, too. And you will be. I’ll see to it.”

  “When?”

  “I haven’t figured it all out yet. I already told Dad I thought I’d go to college in Florida, so I could see you now and then, and he said that was okay with him. He said I could live in the beach house, too. See, that’s just a few months away, and I’ll be down there with you and we can be together again.”

  One day when the older one was particularly unhappy and missing the boy and his family, she walked down to the end of the backyard where there was a little goldfish pond. She sat there in a swing under an flower-covered arbor and wept into her palms. She had not started school yet, so she hadn’t met anybody her own age, and although her daddy and his wife were very nice to her, she was lonely. Sometimes she couldn’t get the boy on the phone when she called, and she was afraid he had forgotten all about her.

  “I hate seeing you so unhappy,” her father said from nearby.

  Alarmed, she looked up at him, and he came and sat down beside her. “Is it that you’re missing your other family?”

  The older one nodded, unable to speak but was stunned by what he said next.

  “I’ve been thinking about this and I’ve talked to my wife, and we realize it wasn’t fair to drag you down here the way we did. I was just so anxious to have you back, sweetheart, and I’d looked for you so long. I was really afraid something would go wrong and I’d lose you again.”

  “I know. It’s not you. You’ve been very good to me. It’s just that, I’m, I guess, just sort of depressed. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He glanced up at the house. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about all this, and I thought, well, I thought I’d take you back there to visit, if you want. Just the two of us, we’ll get a plane up there this weekend. We can make it a surprise, if you think that’s a good idea. But I want you to come back here with me after you visit them. Will you do that?”

  The older one smiled and for the first time, really, truly wanted to hug him. She did so, and she could hear how he let out a pleased breath. “Yes, I’ll come back. Thank you, thank you. And I do want to surprise them. They’ll like that.”

  “Okay, we’ll go tomorrow, as soon as I can book a flight.”

  The plane trip seemed interminable, but she and her real father talked all the way and she told him about what it had been like with her mother and how she had been treated and tears had come into her daddy’s eyes. He told her how sorry he was that he hadn’t been able to find her, that she’d had to suffer and that she’d never, ever have to suffer like that in the future. Then they had hugged and he had kissed her forehead and she believed that he really did mean all of it.

  They rented a white Toyota Camry at the airport and the closer they got to the boy’s house, the more excited she became. When they arrived early that morning, she ran to the front door, and when the boy’s mother greeted her with surprise and pleasure and hugged her warmly, she cried again and asked where the boy was.

  “He’s still asleep out in the Winnebago, but he’ll be so excited. Let me call him.”

  “No, no, I want to surprise him.”

  “He’s missed you so much these past few months. Hurry, he’ll be so happy to see you.”

  The older one left her real daddy drinking coffee at the kitchen table with the boy’s mother and ran down the backyard. The door to the camper was locked, but she still had her key, and she knew the boy would probably still be in bed this early on a Saturday morning. She sneaked inside, smiling, and headed for the back bedroom where he always slept. She threw open the door and cried, “Surprise!”

  The boy sat up with a start, and she laughed happily, but then she saw that he wasn’
t alone, that Sissy was in bed with him. Both were naked, and the boy’s face was so guilty, so shocked to see her that he only stared speechlessly at her.

  “Wait, please,” he cried, jumping out of the bed and grabbing his jeans. “You don’t understand, let me explain.”

  The older one was so stunned herself that she just stood there, staring stupidly at them. Sissy held the sheets up over her breasts and looked scared. Somehow, the older one got out, “Go ahead then, explain.”

  “I just missed you so, that’s all. And Sissy looks like you, and she said she wanted to, and I didn’t think you’d mind…”

  The older one had heard enough, and she ran out of the camper and up the backyard to where her daddy was chatting in the kitchen. She told him she wanted to leave, that she never wanted to come back again, and he looked relieved and said that was good, that he was glad she felt that way, and then they got into the car and went back to Florida. She cried the whole way, and her real daddy patted her hand and handed her tissues until she was finally exhausted and fell asleep on the plane.

  Fourteen

  Downtown, Calypso Mon led me through a crowded precinct station right out of Miami Vice reruns sans pastel T-shirts under white linen blazers with rolled-up sleeves, pushed me into an interrogation room, and handcuffed me to a hook welded onto a steel table. He took my badge and weapons and self-respect and left me sitting there alone to stew, which I did with a great deal of enthusiasm and internal nastiness and low-throated growling.

  Almost an hour later, the giant jerk was back with his sheepish yet toothy Denzel smile.

  “Okay, your story checked out. Your sheriff wants to talk to you. I warn you, he ain’t so happy.”

  I rubbed my sore wrists as he unhooked me. “Me, either. Where’s the damn phone?”

  “Right this way.”

  He preceded me down the hall and through a large, spacious detective squad room. I looked around for all those built female forensic techs dressed like hookers with flowing blond hair and plunging necklines like on CSI Miami, but only saw a bunch of regular looking detectives having a good time staring mocking holes through me. They were smiling behind their hands, too, but I didn’t get any verbal jeers or heckles. The phone was sitting on a desk beside some tinted windows that looked out over a wide, sunny street with lots of people in shorts and tank tops and sunglasses strolling around.

  “Yeah, Sheriff?”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing down there?”

  I lowered my voice. “I was checking out Hilde’s house when I was attacked by her ex-boyfriend, who was hiding inside. Vasquez took off, and when I gave chase, this asshole Miami police detective the size of Mount Everest tackled me and let the suspect get away.”

  No answer. Momentary silence. “They told me you got hurt. How bad is it?”

  “Just a little bump on the head and a couple of cuts and bruises, sir. But you should see the size of this Miami PD guy, Sheriff.”

  “Get it doctored and get back to work. Now that they know you’re legit, they said they’d fill you in and assist you in your investigation. Why the fuck didn’t you check in with them like I told you to before you went looking for this guy? Dadgumit, you know procedure better than that.”

  “It didn’t happen that way, sir. I called in and said I’d come down here later and pick up an MPD guy before I went to Vasquez’s place. How was I supposed to know Vasquez would jump me at Hilde’s house?”

  “Bullshit, you should’ve requested an officer to go with you in the first place, but I suspect you wanted to toss Hilde’s residence before they could beat you to it. I know one thing, Detective, I’m sick and tired of you and Bud bending rules and making this department look like amateurs. That crap’s gonna stop, you got that? I’ve got enough to deal with now that the press is hounding me to release details on the Swensen woman, and Bud hasn’t turned up a damn thing on Costin, either. I want you to get a move on, wrap it up down there, and get the hell back here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hung up and turned around, trying to appear as if I had not just gotten a royal reaming out. The detectives were all working diligently now. No smiles. No taunts. I still felt like a fool. I also felt like punching a certain one of them in the steely muscles of his solar plexus, if I could just reach that high.

  I watched him saunter over, all smiley and floral. “Guess what, Detective? We’re ’posed to sit down together and compare notes, jus’ the two of us, too. Fun, fun. First, though, I guess we oughta fix that cut on your face.”

  “Forget the cut on my face.”

  “Yeah? And be brought up on assaulting a fellow police officer.” He grinned, Detective Friendly, all of a sudden. What was this comedian routine, anyway? The guy think he’s Bernie Mac?

  I glowered. “Okay, we’ve thrown each other to the ground and held our big weapons to each other’s vital body parts. Now that that’s out of the way, maybe we should get down to business.”

  “Let me clean that cut and it’s a deal.”

  I sighed. Put upon. And I thought Black was bad about stitches and Band-Aids.

  “Okay. Where can we talk? Someplace private.”

  “Follow me.”

  I followed him, and we walked together in gritty, unrelenting silence down a couple more gray carpeted corridors to a conference room furnished with a long white table surrounded by cushioned sea-green chairs and a couple of comfortable yellow-and-pink plaid couches lining the walls. Florida decor, and everything. I chose the nearest couch and sat down at one end and waited for the giant to fetch the departmental first-aid kit.

  “Gee, you’re really cool when you want to be,” I said. Snide, yes, ma’am.

  “Yeah, I am. I’m not so sure about you.”

  “Oh, no, now you’ve hurt my feelings and I’m just all torn up inside.”

  Calypso Denzel dribbled some antiseptic solution on a cotton pad and said, “Maybe we ought to introduce ourselves.”

  “That’d be polite. Why didn’t I think of that when you were kicking my ass on the beach?”

  He smiled, unperturbed, which perturbed me. “Detective Lieutenant Mario Ortega, goin’ on twenty-two years here at Miami-Dade.”

  Damn, he outranked me. “Detective Claire Morgan, Canton County Sheriff’s Department.”

  “You were at the LAPD before that, right? Highly decorated there, too, I hear.”

  “Now that’s a lucky guess.”

  “I checked you out.”

  I hated to think what else he’d found out. None of it would be good, I can tell you that. “Okay, enough with the this-is-your-life crap. I’d like to know why you were skulking behind the sand dunes and thought it necessary to take me down like some kind of Miami Dolphin linebacker.”

  Mario dabbed a bunch of antiseptic on my open cut and waited for me to scream. It stung like hell, but I locked my lips and took it like a tough little lady. Probably disappointed I had a high threshold of pain, he said, “I was tailin’ Vasquez. We were tipped that he’s gotta contract hit out on him.”

  “You telling me that hit man line you used on me was for real?”

  Ortega nodded. “It’s supposed to go down this week. We got the word off a fairly dependable source, and we don’t want it to happen.”

  “Why am I scared to ask why?”

  “Because Vasquez’s workin’ an undercover sting for us, and we gotta protect him till it goes down. The hit rumor might mean he’s been made. We’re tryin’ to find out.”

  Not sure what to think, I watched him assiduously take the paper backings off a Band-Aid with fingers the size of ballpark franks. “Well, Ortega, I really hate to break this to you, but Vasquez is a primary suspect in my murder case. That’s why I’m down here, to interview him and check out his alibi.”

  “You always hold a weapon on your suspect when you interview him?”

  “I do if he jumps out from behind the curtains and slugs me in the face. You?”

  Long, slow, white grin. �
�Okay, that’s understandable enough. Why’d he jump you?”

  “Maybe you should ask him. He’s your snitch.”

  “There’s more to it.”

  “Well, hit me with it.”

  “Carlos Vasquez is involved wit’ the crime family that runs things down here. The Rangos family, ever heard of them?”

  “Great. And, no, I haven’t heard of them. Why would I?”

  “The Rangos thinks Carlos is a street punk, but they got him doin’ some money launderin’ for them through his place called the Ocean Club.”

  “He’s dirty into drugs, I take it.”

  Ortega nodded and lounged down in a chair and swiveled it around to face me. “That’s how we got him to cooperate.”

  “What about his girlfriend, Hilde Swensen? She involved in any of this mess?”

  “No. He’s been tryin’ to find her. Said he can’t get hold of her and it’s drivin’ him crazy.”

  “He can’t get hold of her because she’s dead. Somebody murdered her, mutilation style. Cut off her lips, then strangled her.”

  Ortega sat straighter, frowned at me. “Did you say your perp cut off her lips?”

  “That’s right. Snipped them off with manicure scissors and left her all dolled up in the regalia she’d won in a beauty pageant. You have something similar?”

  “A case a few years back had a similar MO.”

  I perked up considerably. “Same thing with the mouth?”

  “Yep.”

  “When?”

  “Two, three years back. Found the body over in the Everglades. Part of the face was bit off.”

  “Bit off?”

  “That’s what the medical examiner thought. The gators got him before we did so she didn’t have much to work wit’. And guess who it turned out to be. One of Jose Rangos’s own nephews. Young guy, not long outta Mexico. Name was Esteban Rangos. They claimed the body, had a private funeral, and didn’t cooperate with us, in fact, they didn’t seem to care if we found the perpetrator, or not, so it went cold.”