by Wendy Byrne
“You had me acting like an asshole, looking through Jillian’s cabinets this morning.”
“I didn’t make you do anything. There must have been a reason.”
“I drove by there this morning and…well…she looked…kinda strung out.” Sam clenched his teeth as frustration cycled through. “She told me she took a sleeping pill and had a bad reaction.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“Hell, I believe her, but your comments yesterday had me searching through her house like some kind of pervert looking for evidence.”
“What did you find?”
“Not a damn thing.”
“So why aren’t you happy?”
“Because I can’t let it go.” Despite his resolve to keep the past in the past, the insidiousness of the disease and the need to be hyper vigilant about the possibility were inescapable.
“Here’s a thought. Why don’t you ask her if it’s bothering you so much.”
“Because it’s an asshole thing to do. Besides, what right do I have asking a personal question like that?”
“It’s not like you’re involved with her or anything.”
“Exactly.”
“Except for the fact you’re mooning over her like a sad little puppy dog.” Cole didn’t even try to hide his laughter.
“Asshole,” Sam muttered. “Remind me again, why do I hang around with you?”
Before Cole could respond, Sam’s phone rang. Shit. California Department of Justice. “Sam Carter.”
“Coach, I’m using the phone card you gave me in case I needed to talk.”
“What’s up, Travis?” Sam tried to keep his tone even but sensed trouble.
“I couldn’t think of a way to ask you this with my mom around. I didn’t want to worry her, but…I have a bad feeling my mom’s in trouble.”
Sam’s gut tightened as he thought about the scene he came into that morning. He pushed down the fear. “What do you mean?”
“I think a little bit of my memory is coming back and it seems like somebody threatened her. I don’t know who. I don’t even know if it really happened.”
The air in his lungs whooshed out. It made sense Travis would worry, given the circumstances. But a niggling doubt persisted. “Are you sure you’re not being paranoid?”
“I probably am, but I’m not there. You know...to make sure she’s okay.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“This is kind of weird but could you figure out a reason to like...stay over...or something to make sure she doesn’t...she isn’t...you know, she’s okay.” Travis seemed to choke for a second or two. “That came out gross. I don’t want you to like sleep with my mom. I feel like washing my mouth out with bleach for just saying it.”
Sam’s laugh erupted despite the circumstances. “Maybe I can talk your mom into a security system or something.” Still he couldn’t help thinking more about what he’d walked into that morning.
***
Jillian decided to follow the guy rather than approach him right away. Five houses later, she had little information except the guy had a very healthy sex drive as he seemed to be getting it on with either the wives or daughters—sometimes both—in all of the households.
As she copied down the name and phone number of the pool company her phone rang. “This is Jillian.”
“Hi, Jillian. This is Cole. I’ve got Sam in my office on speaker. He said you might be out looking for some pool guys today. Do you need me to run anything?”
“Perfect timing. I’m striking out except if you count spotting one particular pool guy with a very active sex life.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Good gossip, but not what I was looking for.” She sighed. “Most of the people in the area use Casey’s Pool Service.”
“Why don’t you swing by and I’ll see what I can find out.”
Less than ten minutes later, she walked inside. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” She hugged both of them before taking a seat next to Sam.
“What’s up with the super stud pool guy?” Cole asked.
“My original plan was to look for a likely suspect and then torture him within an inch of his life until he confessed, but that didn’t work out so well.” She felt the ease of the conversation shimmy through. “Unless I’m willing to get naked and very friendly I don’t see that happening.”
“The pool boy? Really? What a hopeless cliché.” Sam shook his head and smiled.
She laughed despite the constant ache inside her chest. “Who would have thought? If I had been paying attention when I lived there I could have been a great blackmailer, or at the very least, have written an extraordinary expose. Instead, I was consumed with my art work, but that’s a whole other story.” She handed Cole a piece of paper. “As best as I can tell, these are the only two pool companies operating in the area. I’m uncertain how many vans they each have, but a rough estimate is about four each. That should narrow it down to about eight guys, right?”
“I’ll get somebody on it.”
She relaxed against the chair despite the fact she was betting the fate of her son’s life on two men she barely knew. She couldn’t do this alone. And sitting on the sidelines was no longer within her makeup. Pairing up with these two had been the best decision she’d made in a very long time.
“For a while there I thought I was the only one who believed Travis. Thanks to both of you.”
“You haven’t seen my bill yet,” Cole joked.
“I hope installments work for you.” Jillian chuckled. “You’ve heard the tale about starving artists. Well it’s true. I paid cash for the house with the proceeds from the divorce. I have a little left over from that and I can always take out a mortgage on the house if I need to. Hell, I’d frickin’ sell the house if I had to for Travis.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. We’ll work something out.” Cole shrugged. “I’m used to my clients paying when they can. Hence the fancy digs. But I could definitely use some artwork to class up the place.”
“Done.” She turned to look at Sam even though she’d been avoiding doing just that because he witnessed her craziness earlier. It seemed that every time she had a ‘moment’ he was around. “Didn’t you say something this morning about finding Jeremy, but that he got away? How did that happen? Mama Iris told me you were the fastest kid she’d ever seen and had the video to prove it.”
Sam laughed and shook his head. “To put it truthfully…well...Cole slowed me down.”
“Me? You were breathing pretty heavy—and not in a good way—for a football coach.”
They were interrupted when a young man came inside. He looked tentatively at Cole, then Sam, before finally looking at Jillian. “I heard you were looking for Jeremy.”
Chapter Sixteen
Travis felt energized. With Felicia on board, he had another person in his life he felt comfortable with. If he could just get back his memory about that night, he’d be golden. Maybe he should take Dr. Stern up on his offer for hypnosis. While he wanted to know what happened, part of him was fearful of what he might find out. Because if he found out he was a murderer, that would really suck.
Maybe there was some kind of temporary insanity plea. If he’d killed somebody and didn’t remember doing it, he had to be temporarily insane. He should have asked Felicia about it.
Bummer she was married. He liked her way better than Dr. Stern. He didn’t even feel that he was being ‘shrunk’ around her. She talked to him like a friend. Weird. He hadn’t thought therapy was like that. He couldn’t help wondering if she was for real. Maybe she was right out of shrink school and didn’t know what she was doing yet. Then again, he didn’t think Cole would have sent her if he didn’t trust her.
He was definitely going to talk to his mom about switching shrinks. He’d take Felicia any day over Dr. Stern, and her being hot had nothing to do with it.
He strolled back to his cell, mindful of all the warnings from his mother and Cole about the others
inside here. ‘Mind your own business. Don’t get into trouble.’ and ‘Stay in your cell as much as possible.’ His mother had even brought him a ton of crossword puzzle books and paperbacks to keep him occupied.
And he had every intention of following their advice until he spotted Slash a/k/a Harvey over with some other guys. It was obvious they were talking about him based on the way Slash was whispering and laughing.
“If it isn’t amnesia boy. Gee, how’s that working for you, Travis?” Slash taunted from the other side of the room.
Travis drew in a breath and continued walking. Only thirty more feet until he hit the corridor for his room. He could do this. Avoid trouble at all costs.
“Was that your mom here earlier? She’s hot. Ever see her naked?”
Travis exploded. “Gee, Harvey, do your friends know you’re a snitch?” Seconds after the words left his mouth, Travis regretted them.
The boys started to laugh but Slash postured before them. “Who you talking to, asshole?”
“I can definitely see why you call yourself Slash. Harvey’s such a pussy name.” Fueled with a kind of adrenaline that made him slightly crazy Travis tried not to think about how this would go down. His hands trembled as Slash and the boys inched closer. He hoped the guards weren’t too far away. But from what he’d seen so far in this place, the guards were always too far away.
***
Sam’s pulse increased as he got up to grab a chair for the boy. Scrawny and scared he looked like a lot of kids in the area. No doubt Sam had looked about the same when he was this kid’s age.
Poverty and single parent families were rampant in the area, giving rise to a whole host of problems including drugs, prostitution, and gang violence. But since this kid was now in Cole’s office, he was either desperate or one of the kids who hadn’t yet been sucked into the lifestyle.
“Have a seat and tell us what you know, Tyrone. This is Sam and Jillian. You can talk in front of them.” Glancing in Sam and Jillian’s direction, Cole added, “Tyrone and I are old acquaintances.”
The kid kept staring at the door. Old memories made Sam wonder if it was some kind of setup, but he forced himself to reserve judgment. His bullshit barometer was pretty good, as was Cole’s. They’d know right away if Tyrone was feeding them a line.
“Word is you’re offering a reward,” his voice shook. Based on the clearness in Tyrone’s eyes, it wasn’t due to drugs.
“If we find him based on what you tell us, we’ll make sure you get some money.” Cole stood and put a hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“My brother’s sick and Mom ain’t...I mean doesn’t have money for medicine.”
“Did she take him to the clinic?”
“Yep, but they couldn’t fill the prescription because we got kicked off Medicaid. Mom made too much money last month. The church would help us out, but they’re closed until morning.” The kid swore under his breath. “I want him to feel better now, not in the morning.”
“You give me the prescription and I’ll make sure it’s filled whether or not what you tell us pans out,” Cole said.
The kid dug in his pocket, pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, and held it towards Coe. “Here it is.” He shifted his eyes downward. “Thank you.”
Cole took it. “We’ll get it taken care of. But tell us what you know about Jeremy.”
Tyrone eyed both Jillian and Sam before speaking. “I heard he’s with Carlos. He stays up in the Keller Housing Project.”
“What’s the apartment number?”
“I think it’s 401. But you can’t let anybody know I told you. That Carlos guy is bad news. Next thing I know I’ll be stopping some bullets and you know I ain’t Superman.”
“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.” Cole picked up the phone. “Tyrone will be over with a prescription in a few minutes. Put the charges on my card.” After he hung up, he dug into his wallet and pulled out two twenty dollar bills. “With this money I want you to buy food for your family. And that means milk, bread, eggs, peanut butter, not candy and pop. You hear me?”
Tyrone snatched the money. “Thank you, but can I get—”
“As long as you get good food you can get one bag of candy and one liter of pop. No cigarettes, though.”
“Thanks, Mr. Matthews. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll give you more once we find Jeremy. You tell your mom I said hello, okay?’
“Absolutely. She says you’re a good man and I should trust you.”
Cole smiled. “We go way back. Now you go on and get out of here.”
After Tyrone left, Sam spoke. “You trust him?”
Cole nodded. “Tyrone’s a good kid. His mom tries hard, but with six kids it’s not easy.”
“Do you know where the housing project is?” Jillian paused and looked at each. “Is it dangerous?”
Cole and Sam exchanged looks. They both had spent the majority of their youth in rundown buildings just like it until they landed at Mama Iris’ and knew exactly what lurked behind the walls in places like that. It was never more evident than at that moment how different their life experiences had been from hers.
He wasn’t sure how much he should tell her. Going into that kind of place took skill, timing and a whole lot of luck. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
She held out her hand, “You’re not going without me. This is my son’s life we’re talking about.”
“Bad idea.” Sam’s nerve endings tingled as apprehension slid through him. Hadn’t he just promised her son he’d watch over her? It was a rough area and even rougher with nightfall which wasn’t more than an hour away.
“I don’t think you understand.” She stood and placed her hands on Cole’s desk. “I’m not backing down from this.”
***
Travis straightened his spine and got ready. Sooner or later it always came down to this. He’d been in a few scrapes and learned that backing down—despite what his mother said—usually wasn’t the answer.
“Your friend likes to squeal to the cops.” Travis threw out the truth and hoped it meant he’d only have to fight Slash rather than all three of them. “That’s how he gets out early. You didn’t think it was because he had a good lawyer or got lucky, did you?”
The guys relaxed their posture and looked at Slash. He shook his head. “He’s lying. You guys know I’m not down with that shit.”
“You might as well tell them the truth, Slash. You ratted on me to get an early release. They’re going to find out sooner or later, and no place will be safe for you.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Without another word, Slash launched himself onto Travis, catching him off-guard.
Travis hit the floor hard, knocking his head against the wall on the way down. Slash jumped on top of him and began pummeling him. At least it was one on one.
“Not such a smart ass now, huh, Travis.” Slash landed a solid hook right below Travis’ left eye.
Travis fought through the rush of nausea as pain radiated from his nose to his cheekbones.
He could hear the boys around the circle chanting: ‘Fight. Fight. Fight.’
Where the hell were the guards?
Travis threw Slash off and went on the attack. No more trying to endure the blows. He was in a fight for his life.
***
“This is the building?” Jillian tried not to let fear seep into her voice as they pulled up to a dilapidated four story structure south of town.
Men hanging out on the corners eyed the three of them as they got out of the car. She didn’t see any children playing on the rusted out swing set to the left of the building. The grassless playground was littered with broken bottles and needles.
A shiver raced through her as she thought about the slim chance for success for the scores of children raised in such an environment. Then again, she suspected both Cole and Sam had once been in such an environment and yet had made it out. She couldn’t help but wonder if Sam would ever tell her his story.
“Yep.” Sam stood close on one side while Cole crowded her on the other. “I’m pretty sure they think we’re cops, which could be a good thing or a bad thing.”
“What do you mean?” Being between the two of them made her feel both claustrophobic and protected.
“Sometimes it’s a sort of a badge of honor to take down a cop. If we’re lucky that’s not on anyone’s agenda today,” Cole added.
“Are you trying to scare me?”
Sam stopped, and turned her to face him. “Just telling it like it is. You shouldn’t be here.”
She twisted away and ignored his comment. “Apartment 401, right?”
“Elevator is not safe. Stairs are on the right.” Cole led them to the security door, which didn’t have a lock or even a doorknob. He maneuvered it open.
There were no windows and the hallway lights were spaced far apart. A flashlight would have come in handy.
Neither of them spoke. She figured past experience had something to do with their silence and stayed quiet as well.
Cole opened the door to the stairwell and checked inside before motioning them forward. She stifled a gag. The stench of urine and rotten garbage immediately overwhelmed her and she covered her mouth and nose in response. The sound of babies crying, TV sets blaring, and the thump, thump, thump of music let her know people occupied the apartments as they made their way up the metal-tread stairs.
When they reached the third floor landing, she spotted a guy slumped against the wall with a brown paper bag propped against his leg. He roused himself enough to ask for change as they passed.
They ignored him and continued to the fourth floor. When they got there, Sam opened the door and peered into the hall. “Clear.” He motioned them out. “How do you want to play this, Cole?”
They looked at each other and shrugged. “We could wait for them to come out, but that might take a long time. I say we knock and see what happens.”
Sam pushed her behind him as Cole knocked hard on the door and stood to the side. The door creaked open.
“Shit.” Sam turned towards her and whispered, “if I asked you to stay put would you?” When she shook her head, he swore again, then said, “hang onto my shirt and stay behind me. If someone starts firing get the hell out and call 9-1-1.”
