I pulled off my scarf and put it in the pocket of my parka, and pulled the zipper down an inch to cool my throat. The sun was sharp, the sky a cloudless blue.
Rochester and I had circled the block and were on our way back home when an old black Chrysler with a smashed-in fender cruised past us, then stopped right in front of our driveway. A bad place to park; not only was he blocking me from getting out if I needed to, but there was a big SUV parked just ahead on the other side of the street.
The driver’s door popped open and a wiry guy in a black leather jacket got out. As we approached, he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.
Rochester began to bark. I had become such a softened suburban homeowner that my first reaction was that I hoped whoever the guy was, he wasn’t going to put out that cigarette in my driveway. It wasn’t until we got close to him that I realized it was Jimmy Blackbridge.
Rochester sensed my adrenaline rise, and tugged forward on his leash, still barking. I told him to sit and then said, “What do you want, Jimmy?”
“You know who I am.”
Rochester rested on his haunches beside me, on full alert. “Of course I do.” I heard a tapping noise and looked up. Lili was in the bedroom window with a cell phone in her hand. She was watching the tableau in front of the house.
“Then you know you gotta butt out of my business,” Jimmy said. He kept his right hand in his jacket pocket, using his left to take his cigarette out of his mouth.
One of the many things I learned in prison was that you can’t show weakness to anyone. As soon as you do, you’re as good as dead.
“What I know is that you have to pull your piece of shit car away from my driveway and get the fuck out of my neighborhood.”
He looked surprised. Behind him, I saw Merlys in the front seat of the car. “Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what the fuck I should do?”
Good. I had him on the defensive. “You ever hear of the Stand Your Ground laws?” I asked. “You’re on my property, and you’re threatening me. I could kill you right here and no court in the country would convict me.”
Halfway down the block behind Jimmy, I saw Annie Abogato and the Canninos were watching us, too.
“You don’t even have a gun,” Jimmy scoffed.
“Don’t need one.” Though my nerves were on edge, I forced myself to smile. “I’m not some pussy who needs a gun to do my business. I did my time in California and I learned a few things inside.”
Merlys leaned out the driver’s window. Her hair was still in that ridiculously tall beehive and she had to twist her head to get it outside. “Get in the car, Jimmy,” she called.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he said to her. Then he turned back to me. “So, you got balls. Mine are bigger than yours, guaranteed. And I ain’t here to mess you up. Just to tell you to stay out of my business. Forget you ever knew that loser Logato.”
“Why? Because you killed him?”
Jimmy glared at me. “You stupid or something? What the fuck did I just tell you? This got nothing to do with you.”
Behind Jimmy, I saw Annie talking on her cell phone. Mr. Cannino said something to his wife and moved quickly toward us.
Jimmy began to remove his hand from his pocket. My adrenaline spiked because the bulge against his jacket pocket had the shape of a gun. What kind of a dumb ass was I, anyway, taunting an ex-con who might have killed someone?
I pulled on Rochester’s leash and tried to step back, but he strained forward and slipped his collar. He was the picture of grace as he launched himself at Jimmy, snarling in a way I’d rarely heard from him.
“Rochester! No!”
He ignored me and tackled Jimmy just as Jimmy pulled the gun from his pocket. But Jimmy stumbled backward from the pressure of eighty pounds of golden retriever, and the gun flew out of his hand, skittering across the asphalt pavement.
Jimmy landed on his back in the street, with Rochester on top of him. I lunged forward and grabbed the gun, a 9-millimeter similar to the one my father had left me. Rick and I had spent some time at the local shooting range, and I was comfortable around firearms. Jimmy’s gun fit nicely in my hand.
I planted my feet and used a two-handed grip to aim the gun at Jimmy. But with Rochester on top of him there was no way I was going to shoot.
Merlys jumped out of the car and hurried to Jimmy. She wore the same fake leather trenchcoat I’d seen at the funeral, and a pair of stiletto boots in with tiger-striped fur around the tops.
Jimmy was struggling to push Rochester off, but it was a futile effort. Once my dog had a goal in mind nothing could push him away.
“What’s going on?”
I looked up to see Mr. Cannino approaching. “Little disturbance,” I said. “You’d be best to stay back.”
While my attention was distracted, Merlys pulled a switchblade out of her trenchcoat pocket and popped the blade. “Put the gun down or I stab this into your damn dog’s neck,” she said.
“Are you stupid?” I asked her. “I could shoot you dead long before you could do anything with that knife.”
My hands trembled but I focused on holding the gun steady. In the distance I heard the high keening of a police siren. Merlys was beside Jimmy with one hand on Rochester’s collar and the other holding the knife. He barked and growled at her, but he was also trying to keep Jimmy immobilized, and Merlys was stronger than she looked.
“Hurt my dog and I swear to God I will kill you,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You’re crazy!” Merlys said. “Jimmy just wanted to talk to you. I told him you were asking about Felix at the funeral, and he had me go back inside and get your name. We looked up your address, just to talk to you.”
“How’d you know which name was mine? I never introduced myself to you.”
“You came with that vet. And your name was the only one that wasn’t Spanish besides hers.”
I heard an engine behind me and the screech of brakes, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off Merlys. “You put the knife down, and I’ll put the gun down,” I said.
She was considering that when I heard Rick’s voice behind me. “Police! Everybody stand down!”
I didn’t turn around because I didn’t trust either Merlys or Jimmy. “If you get the knife from Merlys, Rick, then I’ll put the gun down and kick it over to you,” I called over my shoulder.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rick approach slowly, his gun in his right hand, his badge in his left.
“You hear him, Merlys?” I asked. “You throw the knife down, I give up the gun. Everybody walks away safely.”
Rochester barked to underscore my point.
“You all are crazy,” she said again. She tossed the knife aside and raised her hands above her head. I could see this wasn’t her first time at the rodeo.
I lay Jimmy’s gun on the ground and kicked it over to Rick. He pocketed his badge, picked up the gun and popped the cartridge. He put the gun in one pocket, the cartridge in the other. Then he walked over to where Rochester sat on top of Jimmy.
“Rochester. Let him up, boy,” Rick said.
Rochester hopped off Jimmy and loped back over to me. “Good boy,” I said, and I scratched him behind the ears. “But you can’t go doing stuff like that. You could get hurt.”
“You’re one to talk,” Rick said.
“You gotta arrest him,” Jimmy said, as he stood up. “I was just here talking and his dog attacked me.”
“We’ll sort it all out down at the station,” Rick said. As a police car came screaming down the street, Mr. Cannino returned to his wife and Annie. So much for showing what a great place River Bend was. I doubted she’d make that sale.
“How did you know to come here?” I asked Rick, as he pulled a pair of plastic cuffs from his belt.
He nodded toward the house. “Lili was watching and she called me because she knows the kind of trouble you get into. Fortunately, I wasn’t far away.”
Lili came out and took hold
of Rochester’s leash. Jimmy and Merlys kept arguing and complaining as they were frisked and cuffed. They both insisted that they hadn’t planned to hurt anybody, just to talk, and it was my actions, and my dog’s, that had escalated the situation.
“How come you ain’t cuffing him?” Jimmy asked. “He’s the one who was holding a gun on me.”
“Because he’s the homeowner and you’re on his property,” Rick said. He called for a tow truck to take away Jimmy’s car, then had the uniforms take Jimmy away. “Steve, you have to follow me down to the station. Without the dog. I’ll need a full statement from you.”
Rick took Merlys with him in his truck and I followed. When I got to the station I had to wait over an hour while Rick took statements from Jimmy and Merlys. When it was my turn he led me into the interview room.
“You really are a dumb ass,” he said, as I sat down. “You know what kind of a record that guy has?”
I shook my head. “I figured he was a low-life like Felix used to be.”
“He has a sheet as long as your arm. And two outstanding warrants for assault. I called down to Philly to have somebody come pick him up.”
“Did he say anything about Felix?”
Rick held up his hand. “First things first. I need you to start from the beginning and tell me the whole story.” He pulled a hand-held digital recorder from his pocket and put it on the table between us. He pressed a button, stated his name, the date and time, and the reason for the recording.
I began with the spoofed email message and then discovering Jimmy’s identity from the guy at Paws Up. As a green light on the recorder blinked, I described finding Jimmy’s picture online, with Merlys beside him. How I had recognized Merlys at the funeral and approached her.
“Did you make any comments of a threatening nature to Miss D’Agostino at that time?” Rick asked.
It took a second to realize that was Merlys’s last name, and then another moment to reconstruct our conversation outside the funeral home. “Nope. If anything, she’s the one who said that Jimmy had threatened to fuck Felix up.”
“That’s not the way she describes your encounter,” he said. “Did you tell her that you believed Jimmy Blackbridge had killed Felix?”
I shook my head.
“You have to speak for the record,” Rick said.
“No. All I said was that I knew Felix and Jimmy had a beef.”
“She says you did, and that she and Jimmy came out to your house today to tell you that Jimmy had nothing to do with Felix’s death.”
“She’s lying, then.”
He asked me a couple more questions and then shut off the recorder. “I spoke to Detective Holland in Philly. He said they have a witness who saw a Caucasian male fleeing the shootout where Felix died. He had her look at Yunior Zeno but she swears it wasn’t him. From her description, it might be Jimmy. Holland’s going to put him in a lineup.”
“So Felix’s family was wrong,” I said. “It wasn’t Yunior who killed Felix.”
“Yunior Zeno is a bad guy, Steve. Even if he didn’t kill Felix, he’s the one who got him to that house. There’s a lot of fault to go around. And some of it falls on you.”
“On me?”
“You put yourself and Rochester in danger, not to mention your neighbors and anybody visiting. Can you imagine what kind of chaos we’d have had if Jimmy had started shooting? Or Merlys had taken that knife to your dog?”
I looked down at the scarred, stained table. “I thought I was getting better,” I said. “I resisted my impulses to hack. I’ve really been trying.” I looked up at him. “What’s wrong with me, Rick? Why do I keep getting into trouble?”
He shook his head. “I’m a cop, not a therapist,” he said. “But maybe you want to talk to one.”
27 – Boys’ Night
By the time I left the station night had fallen. The street lights on Main Street were off, and most of the holiday decorations were down, removing the comforting glow of colored lights. I kept thinking about what Rick had said. Did my emotional problems stretch farther than just computer hacking? Why did I keep putting myself and those I loved in danger?
I reached beside me to pet Rochester and realized he was back at home. I wanted to rest my head against his golden fur, listen to his heartbeat. Just be with him, and Lili.
It was hard to stay focused on the drive. My hands shook, my mouth was dry, and I had the beginning of a headache. When I finally pulled into my driveway, I shut the car off and rested my head on the steering wheel.
Rochester began barking and I forced myself get out of the car. The cold air hit me with the strength of a hammer blow, and I had to steady myself against the door frame. Lili opened the front door and Rochester rushed to the gate, up on his hind legs. Before I opened it I leaned forward and kissed his nose, and he licked my face.
“What happened?” Lili asked as I opened the gate.
I reached down to pet Rochester. “That was Jimmy Blackbridge and his girlfriend Merlys,” I said. “He might be the one who killed Felix.”
She took my arm and led me into the house. “Sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she said. She helped me take my coat and scarf off. I stroked Rochester’s back as I heard the clatter of cup and saucer, the faucet and the ding of the microwave. Lili returned with a mug of tea and a small plate of chocolate-chip cookies.
“Eat,” she said. My hand shook as I picked up a cookie, but the sugar rush helped. I sipped the coconut-flavored tea as Lili and I sat catty-cornered to each other on the sofa. Between sips, I told her the story I’d told Rick, and what he’d said.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked. “That I have some kind of death wish?”
She shook her head. “I think you have a problem with impulse control. And like I said the other day, you care a lot about people, and social justice, and that combines to get you into trouble.”
“I have been trying,” I said. “I’ve been resisting my impulses to snoop around online where I shouldn’t be. I check in with my hacker group. But then I go do something stupid.”
She scooted next to me. “I love you, Steve. I don’t want to lose you to some gun-wielding criminal. But you’re definitely a work in progress. As long as you keep trying, I believe you’ll make better choices.”
Rochester nuzzled against my leg. “Rochester thinks so, too,” Lili said. “Sometimes I think that dog is your guardian angel.”
“I’m lucky,” I said. “I have a bunch of guardian angels. You. Rochester. Rick. A lot of people watching out for me.”
* * *
Monday morning, Friar Lake was back to life. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks, and the sounds of sawing and banging accompanied me and Rochester as we walked to the office.
My email box was full of generic college messages about the start of the semester the next day, upcoming events and deadlines. But there were also updates from suppliers, advertising confirmations, and a host of other things that needed attention.
Joey came in from the site around eleven. “I don’t know what you did with Brody while you had him, but he’s been angel this past week,” he said. “Rochester must have taught him a couple of lessons.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said, though I hoped Brody wouldn’t start competing with Rochester when it came to crime-solving.
Joey settled in the chair across from me. “You have a good holiday?” he asked. Rochester walked over to sniff his hand, and Joey stroked his back as we talked.
“Went by too quickly, as usual,” I said. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone all the events that had happened, and I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
We talked about his cruise, and the way he and Mark were settling into a domestic routine. “We’re both trying to take things slow,” he said. “Been burned before and all that.”
I knew that Joey had been married to a woman when he was younger, and that Mark had had several relationships that had ended in disaster. “You want to find the person who will stand b
y you no matter what happens,” I said. “I got lucky with Lili. I hope you and Mark will turn out to be as lucky as we’ve been.”
“The most important thing is that he and Brody get along,” Joey said. “You can tell a lot about someone by the way he treats dogs.”
“Yeah, I saw that with Lili, too,” I said. “Once she and Rochester bonded, I knew she was a keeper.”
We shifted to a conversation about the site work and how things were starting up again, and then Joey left and I went back to work. I knew from experience that the campus would be humming all day with last-minute student registrations and course changes, and I wasn’t surprised when Lili called to say she’d be working late.
“I’m going to grab a quick dinner at the Cafette later with Gracious,” she said. “Will you and Rochester be all right on your own?”
I was tempted to remind her that I’d managed just fine in the past, but my better nature stepped in and told her to eat healthy and not work too hard. Late in the day, after most of the contractors had left, I took Rochester out for a walk around the site and saw an exterminator’s truck parked near the building that had once housed the abbey’s kitchen.
Joey was in conversation with a bald guy in a sheepskin coat over a khaki uniform, with a metal tank hung from one shoulder. “What’s up?” I asked Joey.
“We found a big nest of ants,” he said. “Must have grown up while we were closed. I called the exterminator and Tillis here came out to help us.”
“All natural materials,” Tillis said. “After some species of bees and ants die, their bodies emit a chemical called potassium oleate. Other insects respond to the smell by removing the dead body. If you spray it on living ants, then other insects start pushing them out as if they were dead, and eventually they’re all gone.”
“Potassium?” I asked.
“Not the kind that humans take,” Tillis said. “And it’s perfectly safe for dogs, too.”
“Good to know,” I said. As Rochester and I walked back to the office, I came back to the question of the stolen potassium. I still hadn’t figured out how the theft from the vet’s office connected to the deaths at Crossing Manor. Was it just a coincidence? Or was there something I was missing?
Dog Have Mercy Page 20
