by Darcia Helle
“This was after he and Corinne had separated?” Lucianna asked.
“Right around then,” Sam said. “Years before I lost it all.”
“They killed him?”
“No,” Sam replied. He was shaking his head, staring off at nothing. “They spent a few months looking for him. Had a shadow on me for weeks, making sure I wasn’t hiding the guy. Like I’d be that stupid. Nothing turned up. Not that I heard, at least. Then awhile back, something happened. I don’t know what. Just that things got stirred up. For weeks Nico was acting more unbalanced than usual. Then he all of a sudden wants Cameron. Wants me to help find him. Kind of strange, I thought, given Nico didn’t even know the guy. And, hell, it’s been nearly twenty years since he disappeared.”
“You have no idea what provoked the sudden interest?” Lucianna said.
Sam dropped his head back, stared up at the ceiling. He inhaled sharply, as if pulling courage from the stale air. Then he looked straight at Lucianna and said, “I have an idea, yeah. Cameron did something five or six years before he disappeared. It was before I met him. But he told me one night, after we’d lost it all and were drowning our miseries at a local bar.”
Sam shook his head, focused on something far away. “At the time, he was in trouble. Owed big money. He told me what he’d done the last time to pay Ace. The guy, he cried. I’ll never forget that.”
“What had he done, Sam?” Lucianna quietly asked.
“This thing, I get the feeling it came back to haunt them all. That’s what I think all the fuss is about.”
“What Sam? What had Cameron done?”
“He sold his kid. His baby daughter.”
Chapter 39
Skeets had driven around the block twice, ran through the alleys, and checked inside all the businesses and apartment buildings nearby. He questioned everyone he passed and threatened the entire staff at the pub. No one had seen Sam and no one at the pub knew where he’d gone. Skeets had then driven to Sam’s house, banged on the door, snuck around the back and broke in a window. No sign of the guy.
Skeets wanted to disappear just as quickly. His stomach twisted into tight knots. Nico was going to kill him. The being dead part didn’t much scare him. The dying part did.
He pulled into the dirt parking lot next to the garage. The place he’d started out in as a kid, stealing cars and bringing them here to be stripped. The place where he’d met Nico and his fate had been sealed.
Three of the guys were working inside. Looked like a normal garage, oil changes and break jobs. Scratching the surface, his father used to tell him. Most people go through life just scratching the surface.
He found Nico out back, looking over a new Toyota. Again he thought about running. Fast and far and never looking back. But he wouldn’t. Where would he go?
Nico said something to the guy standing with him. The guy nodded, then disappeared inside the garage. Nico lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, all the while watching Skeets. After a moment he said, “What the hell you doing here?”
Skeets shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. He thought about how much pain he would feel before his body allowed him the mercy of passing out. Then he thought that maybe Nico would cut him a break. After all, it hadn’t been his fault. He said, “I ran into a problem.”
“What kind of problem? And where the hell is Evans?”
“It wasn’t my fault, Nico.”
Nico stepped closer. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell happened?” he said.
Skeets swallowed the sour vomit that rose in his throat. Then he told Nico how Sam had ditched him out the back door of that crappy pub. He was pretty sure that Nico had stopped listening at that point. But he explained, anyway, about how he’d searched the neighborhood, talked to everyone, threatened people, all with no luck. Sam’s truck was there. But the guy was nowhere to be found.
Explanation complete, Skeets found himself with no more words to fill the void. He stood in front of Nico and the silence enveloped him. It was that silence from nightmares and horror movies. Filled with dread, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time until all hell broke loose.
Nico dropped his cigarette and ground it into the dirt. He looked off into the shadows. Then he glanced at Skeets once more before walking away.
***
“So what do you think?” Lucianna asked when they’d reached her car.
“The man sold his own baby,” Vinnie stated.
“Yeah,” Lucianna said. “Black market, too. Anything could have happened to that little girl.”
“Bastard,” Vinnie muttered. “And what’s with a mother who’d go along with that?”
“Corinne doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who would sell her baby on the black market through a bunch of psychotic leeches, just to pay off her husband’s gambling debt. Of course, I only know her as an off balance, sweet, crazy lady, so I’m not in a position to judge her past behavior.”
“She had to know,” Vinnie said. “How could she not know?”
“You heard Sam. Cameron claimed to put the kid up for adoption.”
“Without her consent? Or, even if she’d consented, without her knowing for sure where the kid was going? Doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.”
“You’ll have to talk to Ian about it,” Vinnie said.
“I know that too.” Lucianna watched a young mother struggling with a large suitcase, two kids trailing behind her. After a moment she said, “This is definitely not what I expected.”
“What is it you did expect?”
“I don’t know. Not this.”
“If you don’t know what you expected, how do you know it wasn’t this?”
Lucianna sighed. “You and the riddles.”
“The esteemed Cameron McCormick must have resurfaced somewhere. Caused a commotion.”
Lucianna stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. A cold wind whipped around them but neither made a move to get into their cars. She said, “You think he’s still alive?”
“Makes sense,” Vinnie replied. “Explains why Graham and company are watching the house. Busting a baby ring would be huge for Graham, boost his career right to the top.”
“Why Cameron though? This happened more than twenty years ago.”
The two of them stood silently for awhile. Lucianna was more confused now than she had been before receiving all this so-called helpful information. She dug her keys from her pocket and clicked the remote to unlock her car door. “None of this makes sense,” she said. “Why would the cops be so interested in these people after more than twenty years? It’s not like they could prosecute Cameron. And who’s to say the people originally involved are even still around? Or that they’re still involved with selling babies?”
Vinnie looked at her, a sly smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “What if he found her?”
“The daughter?”
“Yes. What if McCormick went looking for his kid?”
Lucianna nodded, liking the possibility. “Depending on who she was sold to and what she knew, that could be a problem for this K Unit. And an interest to the cops.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I need to find out what the cops know. But Graham’s like this huge over-inflated ego trapped in a little boy’s body. He’s not about to tell me a thing.”
“He doesn’t play well with others.”
Lucianna laughed at that. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
“Ahh, on the contrary, my dear. I am exceptionally talented at playing with others when I so choose.”
“Oh yes,” Lucianna said. “Just like a master puppeteer.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe I’ll learn something from our mysterious Ben.”
“Are you planning to visit him now?”
“No,” Lucianna said. “I’m going to meet with Ian first. Fill him in.”
“Let me know if you need my assistance later,” Vinnie said. He pulled her car door open and waited while sh
e slid inside. Just before he pushed the door closed, he grinned and said, “Enjoy your time with Ian.”
***
Ian dropped the hammer on his toe for the third time in ten minutes. Good thing he’d spent the extra money for the steel-toe boots. He bent down to retrieve the hammer and smacked his head against the counter. He swore under his breath as he rubbed his head. He needed a helmet to go with the boots.
Rob put his hammer down, shook his head. “A little distracted?” he asked.
“Yeah, just a little,” Ian said.
“You don’t need to be here, you know. I can handle a couple of days on my own.”
“I thought work might keep me from going nuts at home.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rob said. “But it might get you a little stay at that hospital a few blocks away.”
Ian tucked the hammer back into his tool belt. “I’ve got to leave, anyway. My mother’s appointment is at three today.”
“Let me know how things turn out with this Sam character.”
“I’ll give you a call tonight,” Ian said.
Ian was halfway home before he realized that he didn’t even remember pulling out of the driveway at the old house. Nothing like driving around on autopilot. His thoughts kept drifting to Sam. Did he really know something? Or was this a pathetic attempt at a scam? Sam didn’t seem the type. But what the hell did he know?
He should have the answers soon. The meeting was to take place at two. It was now twenty past. Lucianna would be turning over the ten grand, five of which was her own money. That thought made him uncomfortable. The whole primitive male ego thing. Taking money from a female didn’t feel right. Further complicated by the fact that he loved her. And that he hadn’t told her. Foolish really, or so he tried to tell himself.
He found himself on his street, amazed that his lack of attention hadn’t gotten him killed. Safely in his driveway, he pulled his cell phone from his belt and checked to make sure it was on. Then he willed it to ring. It didn’t, so he climbed out of the truck and went to get his mother.
While he waited for her to decide on a coat, he checked his phone again. Still on. Still not ringing.
Corinne watched him pace as she slipped into her white fake fur jacket. She said, “Am I late?”
“No, you’re fine ma.”
“Why are you upset?”
Ian made himself stand still. “I’m not upset. Just a little distracted today.”
She looked at him in that way that appeared so normal. A mother worried about her son. “You look tired,” she said. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Do you feel okay?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night. But I’m fine. We’ve got to get going.”
“Can’t keep Dr. Hartley waiting,” Corinne said.
Ian rolled his eyes but said nothing. Once out in the car, he checked his phone again. 2:43. And still no call.
Lucianna was fine. Vinnie was with her. Sam must have had a lot to say, which was why it was taking so long. That must be a good sign. Information worth ten grand should take longer than five minutes to tell.
“What’s wrong with your phone?” Corinne asked.
“Nothing,” Ian said as he dropped it on the seat beside him. “Why?”
“You’re staring at it funny.”
Ian ignored the remark. He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the garage. On the way to Endicott’s office, he checked his phone two more times while his mother lamented about the bare trees. She said, “Don’t you think it would make more sense for the trees to have all their leaves during the winter when it’s cold? Like extra clothing to keep them warm?”
“They hibernate during the winter, ma.”
“So they don’t get cold? Do bears get cold when they hibernate?”
“I don’t know,” Ian said on a sigh.
“Bears have fur to keep them warm. Trees should have leaves.”
“They have bark.”
“Would you rather have bark or fur to keep you warm?”
As Ian swung into the parking lot, he said, “I guess I’d rather have fur.”
“But bears can’t take theirs off in the summer time.”
Ian grabbed his phone. He checked it again. Still on. Still silent. He stuck it back into the holder on his belt and ushered his mother out of the car. They were in the waiting room when the tune from Bugs Bunny played and Ian nearly had a heart attack trying to yank the phone from his belt. “How did it go?” he asked as soon as he’d switched the phone on.
“You sound rattled,” Lucianna said.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Ian stepped away from his mother and the secretary sitting nearby. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Lucianna replied. “Are you at the psychiatrist’s office?”
“Yeah, we’re in the waiting room. He hasn’t taken her in yet.”
“Okay, I’m just down the street. Want to meet me at Taste Buds once your mom is settled?”
“Sure. Yes.” Ian paced further away. “Do you know anything? Was it worth it?”
“Yes on both counts. I’ll fill you in when we meet.”
Ian disconnected. His mother was swaying in her seat to the beat of a jazz song playing on the music system funneled into the office. He raked his hand through his hair, checked his watch, and stared at the closed door to Endicott’s office. The secretary smiled at him and said, “He’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”
Ian nodded. A few minutes and he’d have some answers. Anxiety stole his breath. He bounced on his toes because he couldn’t stand still. The door to Endicott’s office finally opened and Ian had to fight the urge to shove his mother past the skinny young guy exiting.
Chapter 40
“This guy’s got some problems,” Graham said with a snicker. “Can you believe this shit?”
Ben stared out the passenger side window. “We’ve got no business listening to this.”
“Oh, cut me some slack today, Sterling.” Graham lit his third cigarette in the past fifteen minutes and muttered, “Wuss.”
Ben ignored his partner. He continued staring at the trees that spanned the back length of the parking lot where they sat. Smoke filled the car, despite his window being lowered all the way down. Stench from the nearby Dumpster traveled in with the cold breeze. Just another day trapped in paradise with Peter Graham.
“Ten bucks says this guy’s a fat ugly bastard,” Graham said. “Bad enough he’s got to pay someone to listen to him. But, Christ, admitting he can only get off by masturbating? What the hell is wrong with a guy like that?”
Ben checked his watch. “It’s almost three.”
“Good. This guy’s getting on my nerves.”
“You could turn the volume off for now.”
Graham glared at him as he took a deep drag from his cigarette. Then he settled back in his seat and chuckled through the remaining five minutes of the therapy session they were eavesdropping on.
***
Corinne made herself as comfortable as possible in the valley worn into the sofa. She said, “You have a lot of fat patients, don’t you?”
“What makes you ask?” Dr. Endicott replied while sinking into his padded leather chair.
“I can tell,” she said as she shifted her butt into the middle of the imprint. “Does anyone actually lie down on this couch? Like in the movies?”
“Now and then,” Endicott said. “Would you be more comfortable lying down, Corinne?”
“I’d be more comfortable on my own couch at home in my robe and slippers.”
“Does it upset you to leave the house?”
“Ian doesn’t like my robe and slippers,” Corinne said. “He says I need new ones. But it doesn’t matter what he says because I wear them, not him.”
“That’s true.”
“Ian doesn’t wear a robe.”
“Do you want to tell me about your week?” Endicott asked.
“I started to rake the leaves in my backyard but I didn’t
like being outside so I left the rake next to the big oak tree.”
“Why didn’t you like being outside?”
“Ian raked the leaves and I made hot chocolate,” Corinne said. “Do you like hot chocolate?”
***
“This is nuts,” Graham sputtered. “She’s been rambling on about nonsense for the past twenty minutes.”
“I tried to tell you,” Ben said. “It’s nearly impossible to have a conversation with her.”
“What the hell kind of doctor just lets a patient sit there and chatter about nothing? What the hell good is he?”
Ben shrugged. “Sounds like he’s trying. She just ignores his questions.”
“Perfect,” Graham muttered.
“They’ve got about forty minutes left. Something useful might come up.”
Graham flicked his cigarette butt out the window, then immediately lit another. He stared out the windshield as Corinne asked Endicott’s opinion on how dinosaurs became extinct. Ben leaned against his door, sucked in the brisk air, and once again wondered how he’d arrived at this place in his life.
***
Ian sat in stunned silence. His jaw hung slack and his eyes had glazed over halfway into the story. Lucianna was beginning to worry that he would never speak again, particularly not to her, when finally he blinked several times and said, “You’re telling me that my parents sold a baby girl?”
“None of this has been substantiated,” Lucianna reminded him. “But, according to Sam, your father claimed to have sold his baby daughter. Sam wasn’t sure how much your mother knew about it.”
“Well how could he sell his kid without my mother knowing?”
“I don’t know.”
“My mother wouldn’t sell a baby,” Ian muttered, shaking his head. “She wouldn’t.”
“Has she ever mentioned another child?” Lucianna asked. “Maybe having given one up for adoption?”
