by Chaz McGee
‘For Chrissakes, can you give it a rest?’ Terrence Gallagher asked. He shut his newspaper in annoyance. ‘I told him not to marry her in the first place. I said she’d take off once she got his money. You can’t assume these people have been kidnapped when they go missing. They got this whole route going to and from Tijuana, you know. If you ask me, for all we know, she’s running drugs.’
‘How can you say that?’ his wife demanded. His comment had made her angry. ‘You know Arcelia would never do something like that. And she’s having your grandchild any minute. Honey, you can’t just sit there and ignore this. It’s your own son’s wife. What is the matter with you?’
I gave her credit. She was young, but already she knew how to control the old man. She was also smart enough to know that when the doorbell rang, it was probably not good news. ‘I’ll get it,’ she told her husband. ‘You stay here and take a deep breath.’
Terrence Gallagher needed a deep breath or two. Like all the other man down at town hall, he looked like he had eaten too many steaks, washed down by too much whiskey, and smoked way too many cigarettes in his lifetime. His gut spilled out over his pants and his face was flushed deep red. I could practically watch his cholesterol levels rising as he dined on the meat loaf his wife had set before him. And I know his blood pressure rose even higher when his wife brought Danny into the kitchen and left them alone so they could talk.
‘Any word?’ the mayor asked his son, pushing his newspaper to one side.
‘You tell me, Dad.’ Danny Gallagher slid the chair out from the table and its legs scraped against the floor, causing a screeching sound. His father looked up, startled. Danny was agitated and I’m not sure the old man had seen his son that way in years.
‘How would I know?’ the mayor asked. ‘I’m the last person anyone keeps informed about it. I know as much as you do. Probably less. You want to know more, watch television like the rest of the world.’
‘The reporters on television say I’m the one who did it,’ Danny reminded his father. ‘And they’re going to keep saying it until we find out who did take her.’ Danny had finally found his strength. He did not sound panicked or in shock. He sounded angry and determined. ‘Dad, if you had anything to do with this . . . If this is some sort of campaign stunt or payback because Arcelia wouldn’t campaign for you, so help me God – I will come after you. How could you do this to us?’
His father was genuinely shocked. ‘How can you think I would have anything to do with this?’ His voice rose. ‘Danny, she’s your wife. I would never lay a hand on her. I would never let anyone hurt her.’
‘Don’t give me that, Dad,’ Danny said. ‘I know what kind of friends you have. And I know who their friends are. I know how you got this big house and about the money you launder for them. I know that they would harm Arcelia without blinking an eye. So help me God, I’m telling you, if you had anything to do with this . . .’
Terrence Gallagher looked horrified. He pushed the newspaper away and leaned toward his son. ‘Danny, you listen to me – I know how much you love her. I would never, ever let anyone harm her. Besides, why would we hurt her? She’s done nothing wrong. She didn’t have to help my campaign. Sure, it would have given me a boost. But I was going to win anyway, and I did. Let it go.’
‘And, yet, here you sit, doing nothing while my wife is gone and my child is missing.’ Danny’s voice wavered. ‘You talk family, but look at you. You left me and Mom without ever looking back and you’ve had how many wives since then? What do you care about my wife? You don’t even care about your own.’
His father stood abruptly. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Danny. I’m going to let this one go. I know how upset you are and how frustrated you must be. But I can’t help you.’
It was difficult to tell whether Danny Gallagher really thought his father had something to do with his wife’s disappearance, or if I was just feeling thirty years of resentment coming to a boil. But I did know, without a doubt, that Danny Gallagher blamed his father for everything that was wrong with this world and that he probably had for decades.
I felt sorry for him then. Even if they found his wife, even if his life went back to normal with his farm to tend and a child filling his house with laughter, the anger he felt for his father would still simmer inside him, clouding everything he did.
I knew because I had been there. I did not like the reminder of how resolutely I had clung to old betrayals or how I had embraced my suffering so willingly.
When Danny stomped out of the kitchen, I followed him, brushing past the stepmother, who was far closer to Danny’s age than to her husband’s. She was standing in the hall, eyes wide and lower lip quivering. She had heard it all and his words had rocked her.
I knew then that this crime, like all crimes, was going to ripple through the people in Arcelia Gallagher’s life. When it was over, whether she was found alive or found dead, no one would ever be the same.
Danny burst out of his father’s house, slamming the door behind him, and headed for his truck. He was too angry to notice Maggie and Calvano parked on a side street, tracking his movements. I could not bear being near Danny, the pain that spilled from him was contagious, so I joined Maggie and Calvano in their car. I was just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation.
‘I say we go talk to your old man,’ Calvano was saying to Maggie. ‘He can give us more background in less time than it would take for us to pull out files or look up headlines.’
‘Someone needs to follow him,’ Maggie said, nodding at Danny Gallagher. He was sitting in his truck, head bowed, strength gone. His fear and panic had returned.
‘So call it in,’ Calvano suggested. ‘Danny’s been stuck in a funk for two days now, barely able to move. So if he found the energy to come see his father, then I say there is at least a chance his father was involved. If anyone knows whether that’s a possibility, Colin will know.’
‘You’re right,’ Maggie said, nodding. She reached for the radio. ‘Besides, I need to check and make sure Skip hasn’t tried to get to him.’
Calvano was appalled. ‘You’re telling me your ex-husband would actually try to milk your father for information?’
‘Not if he remembered the last time he saw my father,’ Maggie said. ‘I wasn’t there, but I heard it involved a shotgun.’
‘Remind me to stay on your old man’s good side.’
‘You just have to stay on my good side,’ she told him. ‘My father follows my lead.’
TWENTY-TWO
Colin Gunn had spent a lifetime on the force, working his way up to detective and, eventually, becoming the epicenter of the department in that way only someone who cares more about solving cases and less about being promoted can become. He knew everything there was to know about our town at one point, and he knew everything there was to know about the people who were supposed to protect it, too.
I am sure Colin Gunn had been many things to many people, and that his life had consisted of many remarkable moments. He was a man who had lived each day head on. But in the end, he had chosen to define his life in three ways, and most people knew him for one of these reasons: he had been a policeman for over forty years; he had loved his wife deeply and taken care of her when she grew ill; and he was Maggie’s father.
There may have been some people who thought Maggie rose in the ranks because of Colin Gunn, but no one who knew Maggie thought that. She was an even better detective than he had been, perhaps because she had so few other distractions in her life. She showed no self-consciousness about adoring her father or about turning to him for help. Whenever she had a big case, it was tradition that she consult him on it at least once. Both of them were the better for it.
The thing about Colin Gunn, though, was that he was one of the few people who could tell that I was still around. Which made perfect sense. He had also been one of the few to notice that I was still around back when I was alive.
It wasn’t that he could see me in my present s
tate. It was more like he could feel me and, he claimed, smell the combination of sweat and whiskey I’d exuded when alive. But he never let on that he knew that I was there, at least not when others were around. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was getting senile. He was still fiercely independent, though confined to a wheelchair because of his strokes. It had seemed impossible that such a vibrant man could show signs of poor health – I remember hearing about his last stroke when I was still alive. The news had raced through the department grapevine and penetrated even my fog of self-centered pity, placing an icy finger on my heart with the message that it could have been me standing face-to-face with Death. And, of course, in my case, it had turned out to be true.
When Maggie and Calvano visited him to ask about Danny Gallagher and his father, Colin was sitting on his front porch, as he often did, keeping an eye out on his neighborhood. This time, however, I noticed that he had a shotgun leaning up against the low stone walls of his porch within easy reach. I gave it a wide berth and perched on the wall in a corner, eliciting a quick glance.
‘Make yourself at home,’ Colin growled at me.
It was good to have a friend.
‘Seriously? You’re openly packing now?’ Maggie asked him. She looked at the shotgun and then back at her father. ‘Really, Dad, we’re going to start getting calls about you from the neighbors.’
‘Don’t give me that,’ her father said gruffly. He waved each of them toward the chairs he kept ready for any and all visitors. ‘Pregnant women are disappearing off the streets of my town and you better believe I am going to be ready.’
‘Two women have disappeared,’ Maggie said wearily. ‘And we’re really not sure whether one of them just decided to leave on her own or not.’
‘Gonzales tell you that?’ her father guessed astutely. ‘He wishes. He hates it when the case involves someone Hispanic. He doesn’t like the reminder he’s one of them. I wouldn’t listen to him on anything about this case. He can’t be objective.’
Calvano’s eyes widened and he said nothing. He was like that around Colin Gunn. It was as if he feared being the object of the old man’s ire and so he stayed silent most of the time, soaking up the departmental tidbits that Colin dispensed with childlike wonder.
‘That’s why you’re here, right?’ Colin asked Maggie. He had caught Calvano’s expression. ‘You want me to help with the Arcelia Gallagher case?’
She nodded. ‘Most of our leads take us into places where we’re either not wanted or we can’t go. I’m sure there are fifty illegal immigrants in this town who could tell us something, but they’re not talking. Danny Gallagher seems to think his father might have had something to do with it. And then the trail keeps leaning back out to that creepy Delmonte House on the edge of town, but it’s guarded by money and power way above this town’s pay grade and I don’t know if we’re going to be able to crack it, or even if it’s worth it. We need your help figuring it all out. I’ve never had a case this frustrating before, with every door getting slammed in our face, sometimes literally.’
Colin nodded thoughtfully. He knew that Maggie had a lot of pride. She would not ask for his help unless she was stumped. ‘That house has a history all right,’ Colin said. ‘But I don’t see how it could be related to your girl. Whoever took Terrence Gallagher’s daughter-in-law was either stupid or has a lot of nerve, that’s for sure. Terrence is very well connected, as they say.’ He touched the side of his nose and nodded.
Calvano risked weighing in. ‘You’re saying that being the mayor’s daughter-in-law should have protected her. That you think whoever took her didn’t know who she was.’
It was a perceptive theory and it could well be true.
‘You don’t think the mayor is involved?’ Colin asked them. ‘I’d put my money on an outsider.’
‘We don’t think he’s involved, but there is a chance his son does,’ Maggie said. ‘We followed him out to his father’s house today. He seemed pretty upset.’
‘Those two have a history.’ Colin shook his head. ‘The mayor has a pretty poor track record of treating his family well. But I don’t see why he’d harm his daughter-in-law.’
‘What do you know about the Delmonte House?’ Calvano asked him. ‘I remember there being a murder out there when I was a kid.’
‘And back in the twenties,’ Colin said. ‘That house has a way of getting to people. I’ve talked to more than a few people who worked out there and left. They say the house holds an unhappiness that’s contagious. That’s why it’s had a lot of owners over the years. Larry “The Wag” Pisano lived there until he and his wife moved to Boca about fifteen years ago. I think it’s been through a couple of owners since. The next-to-last one sold it to that big deal movie star a couple years ago.’
‘Do you think any of its history could be relevant to the Arcelia Gallagher case?’ Maggie asked.
Colin shrugged. ‘I’ve got no idea, but I can tell you this – that house needs to be burnt to the ground. It’s caused people nothing but unhappiness since it was built. Your great-grandmother worked there as a maid, you know.’ Maggie looked surprised and he added, ‘You think it’s such a big leap to go from being a maid to being a policeman’s daughter?’
‘Or being a detective yourself?’ Calvano pointed out with a grin.
‘It’s true,’ Colin said. ‘My grandmother worked out there her whole life, back when the current house was first built. She said it was the unhappiest place on earth. I didn’t hear her say that, of course, but it’s always been passed down in our family. Don’t you remember the stories from when you were young?’ He looked at Maggie disapprovingly. Sometimes she was a little too modern for his tastes. ‘The original owner, Delmonte, made his fortune by inventing some tiny little piece of sewing equipment, something that mattered way back then. He married a young and beautiful wife then built the house for her and gave her everything she wanted. But it was never enough. She always wanted more. He died still trying to make her happy and she sold it off. Then there was a murder there, back in the twenties, when some old woman, the lady of the house, shot her gardener dead because she found out he had a girlfriend and she had been under the impression he was interested only in her.’ Colin shook his head. ‘Then you had that murder in the orchards, those two bums fighting over a quarter bottle of wine. People say the house makes you covet things you cannot have. If I were you, I’d look into the house.’
Maggie laughed. ‘Come on Dad, listen to yourself. You sound like a crazy old man. You seriously believe that stuff?’
Colin shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I grew up hearing all sorts of rumors about that house. Some people say it was once a stop on the Underground Railroad, this was before the present house was built. Others say the man who built it buried gold on the grounds to keep it from his wife, who liked to spend every penny he had, and that it’s still hidden on the grounds somewhere, maybe buried or in one of the orchards. Even if you don’t find the missing girl, maybe you’ll get lucky and find the gold.’ He smiled, knowing that he sounded a little over the top and enjoying the effect it had on his daughter.
Calvano took him seriously. ‘We’re putting someone out there, undercover, to work in the house,’ he said. ‘It was the one of the last places where Arcelia Gallagher was seen and I do think they’re hiding something.’
Colin Gunn nodded his approval.
‘You have any ideas about how we can get the illegal immigrant community to talk to us?’ Maggie asked. She was not as convinced as her partner that the Delmonte House was their best lead.
Colin shook his head. ‘You can bet most of them attend St Raphael’s. They give them the fish-eye at St Michael’s because that’s where all the money goes to mass. Maybe they could help at St Raphael’s.’
‘They’re not being very helpful,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think Father Sojak is hiding something.’
‘He could just be protecting his flock,’ Colin said. ‘Maybe he doesn’t want
to give up their names if they’re illegals? And he’d get in trouble with the bishop if they found out his church was welcoming illegals. There was a time they would have tolerated it, but they’re worried about the political repercussions these days. Father Sojak may be hiding it from his superiors as much as he’s hiding it from you. If you can find a way around that, he may talk.’
Maggie and Calvano nodded, thinking it over. They had already tried that and it hadn’t worked yet.
‘Maybe you should talk to that worthless peacock you married once upon a time?’ Colin told Maggie. ‘I heard he’s in town. Looks like someone beat him up pretty good, too. He was on the news saying he’d been pursuing some illegal who knew something about the case and the guy beat him up in an alley. Wish you guys could find out who it was. I’d like to shake his hand.’
Calvano rose abruptly. He walked over to Colin and stuck out his hand, startling the old man. ‘We’ve got to get going,’ Calvano said. ‘But it’s always good to see you, sir.’
‘Come back soon,’ Colin said. He was no stranger to abrupt departures. ‘I’ll break out the whiskey next time.’
Maggie gave her father a kiss and skipped down the front steps the same way she had probably skipped down them thousands of times as a child. She was laughing at Calvano’s inside joke as she left. Colin watched his daughter with pride as she sped away with Calvano riding shotgun.
‘What was that all about?’ the old man said, half to himself and half to me. I couldn’t answer him, of course, but I wished I could have clued him in on what was so funny. Something tells me Colin Gunn would have appreciated how Maggie’s ex-husband really got his black eye.
‘You know, Fahey,’ Colin suddenly said. I was startled to hear my name. ‘You ought to come around here more often. You and I have a lot in common.’
I couldn’t answer him, of course, but he waited a moment, as if I had, and said, ‘We’re both just sort of hanging around, waiting for the big finish to happen.’
