"Cher Arbor, 1C," Danni said, her finger on the decrepit line of mailboxes. "I wonder if her parents had a Sonny and Cher fixation."
Nick, too caught up in his past miseries to appreciate Danni's dry humor, shrugged impatiently. He just wanted to get this over with.
Danni led the way down the reeking hall, and Nick was careful not to brush against the yellowing walls. At 1C, Danni stopped and knocked. A baby's wailing and a man's guttural expletive drifted from another apartment, and Nick gnashed his teeth as deja vu swept through him.
"Knock again," Nick said between thinned lips.
Danni pounded harder. "Ms. Arbor, are you in there?"
After another minute, there was a scuffing on the other side. Two locks clicked, and the door cracked open with a chain still offering a semblance of security.
A pale blue eye surrounded by bloodshot white peered at them through the slit. "What d'ya want?"
"I'm Danni Hawkins, a private investigator." She held up her ID. "I'd like to ask you some questions about your son Matt."
"He's dead." Her tone was as lifeless as her eye.
"Yes, we know, that's why we're here. His lawyer, Beth Marshal, asked me to look into his death."
The eye blinked, then shifted to Nick. "Who's he?"
"Nick Sirocco," he answered.
She closed the door and unlatched the chain, then allowed Danni and Nick to enter. Cher Arbor tightened the sash around her faded pink robe, then pushed her flyaway hair out of her face.
"Mattie mentioned you," she said to Nick. "Said you used to be just like him but got out of the neighborhood and done good."
Her admiration made him self-conscious, but he managed a smile. "That's right. I grew up about five blocks from here. The building's condemned now."
"Just like this place'll be in a few years," Ms. Arbor said grimly.
He glanced around the tiny apartment that had a water-stained ceiling and cracked paint on the walls. The furniture was at least thirty years old, but it appeared Ms. Arbor tried to clean it once in a while. Unlike his mother, who never did anything more strenuous than lie on her back. He brought his attention back to the pitifully thin woman.
"How'd you get out?" Ms. Arbor asked curiously.
"The army."
Ms. Arbor stared at something over Nick's shoulder. "That's what Mattie was planning on doing—joining the army. See the world. It had to be better than this." She motioned to her surroundings, her loathing evident.
"I'm sorry about your son, Ms. Arbor," Danni said softly. "My father thought a lot of him."
"Officer Hawkins—he was your father?"
"That's right."
Ms. Arbor clasped Danni's hand. "He was a good man, tried to help kids like my Mattie make a better life for themselves. You must've been proud."
Danni shifted from one foot to the other, her body language screaming her discomfort. Nick opened his mouth to relieve her of answering, but she beat him to it.
"I'm finding out how good a man he was," she confessed quietly.
Ms. Arbor stared at her a moment, then seemed to shake herself. "Sit down. Would you like some coffee? I think I have some soda, too. Mattie used to drink it."
"No, that's all right. We're fine," Danni assured as she perched on the sagging sofa. "We don't want to take a lot of your time, but we have some questions we'd like to ask."
Only when Ms. Arbor lowered herself to a mustard-yellow vinyl chair across from the couch did Nick sit down at the opposite end of the sofa from Danni. A spring pressed into his left buttock, and he repositioned slowly, not wanting to embarrass their hostess.
Ms. Arbor reached for a pack of generic cigarettes, tugged one out, and lit it. She blew the smoke away from Nick and Danni. "I don't know what I can tell you. I didn't see him that much. I work the night shift at Landy's Truck Stop. As soon as Mattie got home, I usually had to leave for work. And when he left in the morning, I was asleep." Her voice was raspy, either from grief or her cigarette habit.
"What time did he usually get home?" Danni asked.
"Around eleven."
"Did he ever tell you where he was? Who he was with?" Ms. Arbor grasped the lapels of her robe with her left hand, tugging it closed at her neck. Nick couldn't help but notice her fingernails were stained brown with nicotine, just like his parents'.
"I asked him, but mostly it was 'nowhere.'" She attempted a laugh and failed. "You know how kids are nowadays."
"Did he go to the youth center very often?" Danni asked.
A spark of life lit her sallow face. "When he did tell me anything, it was about that place. He liked it, I think. I mean, it's hard to say with a seventeen-year-old. Seventeen. Already a man." She shook her head. "His father was only sixteen."
"Matt told me he didn't know who his father was," Nick interjected.
Ms. Arbor leaned over to tap her cigarette ashes into an empty can with a tomato soup label. "He didn't. I didn't either. I was fifteen and boy crazy. One of three boys—all of them sixteen—was his father. I never knew which." She said it matter-of-factly, like she was describing a stranger.
Nick felt a wave of empathy for Matt.
"Did you know any of Mart's friends? Who he hung out with?" Danni continued her questioning.
"There were two boys he used to talk about. He brought them home one time. Gary and Marsel. I don't know their last names."
"Can you describe them?" Nick asked.
"Marsel's black, tall, skinny, usually wears those baggy pants that look like they're going to slide right off him. Gary's shorter. Long brown hair. Has eyebrows that go all the way across his forehead, like there's only one."
"I know them," said Nick. "I've seen them hanging out at the center."
"Is there anybody else you can think of? A girlfriend maybe?" Danni scribbled in a notebook she'd taken from her jacket pocket.
"If he had one, he didn't tell me about her," the woman said with a snort of derision. "Guess he didn't want to scare her off."
"Did you know he was involved in theft?"
Nick scowled at Danni for being so blunt. The woman had lost her son less than a day ago.
"No." Ms. Arbor punched out the butt of her cigarette against the inside of the can. "I tried to teach him right from wrong." Her thin face crumpled. "But I couldn't even do that right."
Nick leaned forward and laid a hand on hers. It was cold and bony. "You can't blame yourself, Ms. Arbor."
"He's right," Danni said gently. "At a certain point, children have to become responsible for their own actions, regardless of how they were raised."
Although Ms. Arbor probably only saw empathy in Danni's sad smile, Nick could read the self-reproach and wistfulness in her dark blue eyes. He curled his hands into fists to keep from touching Danni, from offering—what? Sympathy? She'd prefer indifference.
"A friend of mine used to say raising a kid was like a crapshoot; sometimes you roll a seven and sometimes you hit snake eyes," Danni said. "Just remember you did the best you could. That's all anyone can do."
A tear slid down the older woman's cheek, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. "Thank you."
Nick noticed that Danni gave Ms. Arbor time to regain control of herself instead of continuing immediately with her questions. He suspected Danni had been a good cop, compassionate and caring, much like her father, yet she probably didn't even recognize the similarities.
"Was Matt depressed or upset about anything?" Danni asked, keeping her voice low and solicitous.
Ms. Arbor shook her head, then reached for another cigarette. She tried to light it, but her hands shook too much. Nick took the cheap lighter from her and flicked it. The woman leaned close to the flame and took a few puffs to get the tobacco burning.
"No," Ms. Arbor finally replied. "If anything, he was excited about graduating from high school and getting away from here."
"Do you think Matt killed himself?" Danni asked.
"No," Ms. Arbor replied firmly without hesitation.
"Do you have any idea who might've wanted him dead?"
Ms. Arbor lowered her graying head, shaking it slowly.
Danni leaned forward to meet Ms. Arbor's downcast gaze. "Did he mention anyone he had a fight with recently? Maybe had a grudge? Did he cross anyone?"
"No. No, I-I don't know." The woman's voice was thick with tears. "I just don't know."
Danni opened her mouth, and Nick touched her arm. When she glanced at him, he shook his head. He was certain Matt's mother didn't know anything more.
He could see the reluctance in Danni's features, but she nodded once, accepting his unspoken request.
"Thank you, Ms. Arbor," Danni said. "I'm sorry if I upset you, but I just want to find the truth."
Ms. Arbor lifted tear-filled eyes. "I do, too. I-I'm sorry I wasn't much help."
Danni mumbled a few words of sympathy, then stood. "We'll let you know if we learn anything."
The woman tugged her robe snugly about her emaciated body. "Thank you."
She escorted Nick and Danni out with a shuffling gait and closed the door behind them. They walked down to the truck in silence that lasted until Danni pulled away from the curb.
"Do you believe her?" Danni asked.
Nick scratched behind Gus's ears. "Yes. Boys Matt's age don't tell their mothers anything important."
"Are you speaking from experience?"
Nick glanced sharply at Danni, expecting to find mockery. Instead, she appeared genuinely curious. He shifted his gaze to the passing street. "My mother didn't care what I did, as long as I stayed out of the way." The words came out with far more resentment than he intended.
Danni's hands clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. "Maybe I was lucky my mom left when she did."
Nick's mouth gaped, surprised by her admission.
"So, you know those two boys, Marsel and Gary?" Danni asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Still caught up in Danni's confession, Nick took a moment to switch gears. "They hang out at the center quite a bit." He glanced at his watch. "It's a little early for them to be there now, but we could stop there in a few hours."
"Sounds like a plan," Danni said. "Let's swing back by the office so you can get your car, then drop it at the house."
Two hours later, after eating Chinese takeout and leaving Gus at the house, Nick and Danni headed over to the youth center.
As Nick drove, he divided his attention between the road and Danni. She had her right ankle resting on her left knee. Her right foot jiggled constantly, and her fingers tapped a counterrhythm on her thighs. However, she'd been uncharacteristically subdued, not even arguing when he suggested they take his vehicle this time. The only time she'd shown some fire was when he'd asked what was wrong. He'd gotten a resounding, "Nothing."
"Would you quit watching me like I'm a ticking bomb?" Danni asked in irritation.
"You aren't, are you?" Nick half-teased.
Danni turned her head and leveled him with a look. "Only if you keep staring at me."
Nick braked for a red light, easing to a stop. "They might clam up around you."
"Huh?"
"Matt's friends. Maybe you should let me talk to them."
"You tried that already. All it got you was a group of pissed-off cops."
The light turned green, and Nick stepped on the accelerator. He couldn't deny her criticism, but he had a definite advantage with these kids; he'd been one of them. "This is different." He tossed her a smile. "No thin blue line."
Danni grunted and crossed her arms, which Nick assumed was her version of giving in gracefully. From his side vision, he watched the streetlights play across her strong yet feminine face, striping it with ever-changing darkness and light—one moment cold and forbidding, the next open and guileless.
Like two people resided within her.
Which one was the true Danni Hawkins?
Nick turned in to the youth center's parking lot. The center was located where gang boundaries converged, in a decrepit neighborhood that had been abandoned by everyone but those who couldn't afford to leave. No colors were allowed at the center, creating a level playing ground for those who came to play some ball or just shoot the breeze with friends. The neutral territory had survived for over twenty years because of people like Paddy Hawkins who didn't put up with any bullshit.
Nick parked in the well-lit parking area close to the building that had once been an abandoned warehouse. He recognized most of the other cars as belonging to volunteers.
Nick opened his door and started to get out, but he noticed Danni remained motionless. "Aren't you coming in?"
She blinked, and her curved eyelashes swept cheeks that appeared ghostly white in the streetlights. "It's been a long time."
Nick quelled the urge to ask her how long. He didn't know why it was so important, but he wanted her to confide in him on her own. Seconds ticked by as he waited.
She buried her hands in her blue and brown plaid jacket pockets and stared at the youth center. "I was fourteen when Dad banished me from here."
"What about when you were a cop? Didn't you come by then?"
She turned toward him, and her eyes appeared impossibly huge in her pale face. "No. This was Dad's place. I never tried to be included in that part of his life again."
Nick digested the information, and for the first time, felt a spark of anger at Paddy. The man could alleviate pain and hurting in strangers' kids but hadn't recognized it in his own child.
Danni opened her door and slid out of the SUV. Troubled, Nick joined her and walked by her side.
As they neared the center's entrance, the door flew open, and Paul Gilsen, a dark-haired man Nick's age, exited. He stopped and smiled in recognition.
"Nick. I was wondering where you've been," Paul exclaimed, holding out his hand.
Nick grinned as he shook his friend's offered hand. "It's been awhile."
"A couple of weeks, since before..." Paul trailed off, his lips turning downward.
Nick's smile faded. "Yeah, I know." A cleared throat reminded him of Danni's presence. "Paul Gilsen, this is Danni Hawkins."
Paul switched his full attention to Danni, and his brow crinkled. "Paddy's daughter?"
Nick could almost see the effort it took Danni to nod calmly.
"That's right," she replied stiffly.
"Paul and I hung out together when we were kids," Nick said. "We both made it out of the neighborhood."
Danni eyed Paul. "Did you join the army, too?"
The two men laughed and exchanged a look.
"He was a jarhead," Nick said. "Joined the marines."
"Got out after four years," Paul said. The rivalry between their two military alma maters had become a running joke. "But I didn't come back to the city until last year. When I stopped by here for a visit, I ended up volunteering, just like Nick."
"What do you do here?" Danni asked.
"I help with the computers, teach the kids how to use them." Paul shook his head. "The young people today need to know at least the basics, or they're going to be left even farther behind." He glanced at his watch. "I have to get going unless I want to stand up my date." He turned to Danni and smiled amiably. "It was nice seeing you again, Danni."
She nodded but didn't say anything.
Nick waved good-bye to his friend, then turned back to Danni. "Again? You knew him before?" he asked curiously.
"Yes."
"And?"
She focused on him. "And nothing." She opened the door. "Come on."
Shaking his head at her obstinacy, he joined her. They walked down a hallway, which had the administrative office on one side and a large room with a dozen computers in it on the other. There was a light on in the office, but the computer room was locked, since Paul had left and there was no one to supervise the young people. Metal doors at the end of the hall led into the gym, and Nick continued through them. Danni followed, and they paused just inside the basketball court.
Sweat permeated
the air. The sounds of boys' grunts, bouncing basketballs, and tennis shoes squeaking on the floor filled their ears. Nick watched the pickup game, allowing memories to wash through him. In contrast to the bleak memories Matt Arbor's apartment building brought back, these memories were filled with fondness and warmth. He'd spent countless hours in this same gym, forgetting about what awaited him at home and dreaming of the day he could finally escape.
"Do you see either of them here?" Danni asked.
Startled out of his recollections, Nick blinked and searched the gym. A handful of spectators sat along the sidelines, cheering the players. Tony Mullen, a cop and center volunteer, was acting as referee for the game. Finally, Nick spotted Marsel playing basketball, but Gary was nowhere in sight.
"Marsel. He's going in for a layup," Nick said.
He watched the tall teenager sail through the air and sink the ball with deceptive ease.
Danni whistled low. "He's talented."
Nick led the way down the sidelines, where they stood behind a dozen girls. When the boys on the court took a break, some of them joined Nick, slapping his palm in greeting. After some good-natured teasing, he introduced Danni to them, intentionally not giving her last name. He wasn't sure if she wanted the kids to know she was Paddy's daughter.
She took the boys' adolescent leers in stride—no doubt another skill learned as a cop. When they realized they weren't going to fluster her, they started drifting back onto the floor.
"Hey, Marsel, can I talk to you a minute?" Nick asked the tall, skinny teenager.
Swaggering back to them, Marsel shrugged. "What about, man?"
"Matt."
Marsel pressed his lips together and shuffled his feet. "Never figgered him to off himself."
"Me neither." Nick paused, ensuring he had Marsel's attention. "We think he was murdered."
Marsel's dark eyes widened. "I heard he slit his wrists."
"Somebody could've done it to him, made it look like suicide."
Arouse Suspicion Page 11
