Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 02 - Eminent Domain

by Traci Tyne Hilton

Mitzy called Ben but no one answered. She called at the office as well. Sabrina answered.

  “No,” Sabrina said, “Ben didn’t mention that he was going to the inn. Did you ask him to?”

  “I didn’t, but Reggie spoke with him here and Ben said he was looking for me. It would be like Ben to be too lazy to go all the way to the attic. I just want to know if he saw Diego while he was here. Where do you think he is?” Mitzy asked.

  “He took off early. I think he was supposed to go cake testing with Jenny. Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer his phone,” Sabrina said.

  “Do you have Jenny’s number?” Mitzy asked.

  “I don’t, but I’ll Google for it. Do you want me to call her?”

  “Would you? That’d be great. I want to call Alonzo,” Mitzy said.

  “Okay, I’ll get back to you after I talk to Ben,” Sabrina said.

  Mitzy thanked her assistant and went back into the house to see if she could figure out why Ben had stopped by. The future reception desk was only half-finished, but Mitzy checked it out first. There was a manila envelope sitting on an open shelf. Mitzy slit open the seal with her glitter covered, freshly painted, lavender fingernail. She slid the papers inside out. They were prints of the contents of her little box. He had scanned them for her and cleaned them up so she had very clear, legible copies. She hadn’t expected them today, but there was nothing wrong with him bringing them by. He may have just been too lazy to go all the way upstairs and give them to her. But she still wanted to know if he had seen Diego Jr.

  If Ben hadn’t seen him…a wave of fear swept over Mitzy but she suppressed it. No need to be scared yet. Diego Jr. had a lot of friends. He might have gone home with a friend to play video games. Carmella wouldn’t think that was a possibility, but it may have sounded to Diego Jr. like more fun than roofing with his dad.

  When she got Alonzo on the phone, she was calm and collected. “I don’t think there is anything to worry about, we just can’t find him.”

  “Can’t find him?” Alonzo roared. “That is something to worry about. I’ll be right there.” He hung up on Mitzy.

  She had seen Alonzo in action, protective, and concerned about a missing puppy, of all things. But she had never seen him when he felt his own family was in danger. The deafening roar he used on the telephone was not a good sign. She wondered fleetingly if Alonzo was more trouble than he was worth. But this moment wasn’t about her relationship. It was about Diego Jr.

  “Do you think Diego Jr. could have gone home with a friend?” Mitzy asked Carmella.

  “No. He knew he was supposed to come here. He wouldn’t have done that. He never did that before,” Carmella said. Her face crumpled for an instant but she pulled it back to neutral with a great effort.

  “Maybe this time was different…” Mitzy took a deep breath before she continued. Carmella was too scared to think straight. Mitzy didn’t want to make her mad as well. “Maybe he stayed at school for a project, or went to the library to finish some school work,” Misty suggested.

  Carmella glared at her through thick black lashes of her lowered eyelids “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” she said, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead.

  “Of course not,” Mitzy tried to sound soothing. “I just want to think of a lot of ideas. The more places we can look for him, the sooner we can find him.”

  “Did you get a hold of Ben?” Carmella asked.

  “No. Sabrina is calling around for him though. I’d like to know if he saw Diego Jr. when he stopped by,” Mitzy said, still keeping her voice low, quiet, and slow. At that moment her phone rang. It was Sabrina.

  “I found Jenny’s number in Ben’s drawer, on a sticky note. You’d think a techie kind of guy would have a computer phone book or something,” Sabrina said.

  “Did you call her?” Mitzy asked.

  “I did. She was really mad, too. Ben totally skipped his cake tasting this afternoon,” Sabrina said with a chuckle.

  “Where was he?” Mitzy asked.

  “Jenny didn’t know. But I’m thinking he is going to have to buy her something expensive and pretty to make up for it, don’t you?” Sabrina said.

  “Knowing Jenny, I’m sure. Did she try to call him?” Mitzy asked.

  “Of course she did and he totally hasn’t answered his phone all afternoon. She is so mad,” Sabrina said.

  “I guess I’d be mad too. Thanks anyway. I don’t think it matters. Diego Jr. doesn’t seem to have been at the inn this afternoon anyway. I’ve gotta let you go.” Alonzo came up behind Mitzy while she was on the phone and wrapped his big arms around her. He squeezed her tight before he let her go.

  “Any luck?” he asked.

  “None yet. We’ve asked everyone here and no one has seen Diego Jr. Carmella talked to Diego but I haven’t heard how that went.”

  “Hey, Sis,” Alonzo said, “What did Diego say?”

  Carmella looked up at her brother, her big brown eyes wet with tears. “He said that he left before Diego Jr. got here but gave Reggie instructions for what he was supposed to do.”

  “So Diego didn’t see him either?”

  “No. No one has seen him.” Her sobs slowed down as she tried to control herself.

  Alonzo gave her a big squeeze too and said, “Its okay. We’ll find him.” But he made eye contact with Mitzy as he spoke and there was fear in his eyes.

  Carmella wiggled out of his hug and said, “Ask Mitzy about Ben.”

  “What about Ben?” Alonzo asked.

  “He dropped by this afternoon. We wanted to ask if he had seen Diego Jr. but we can’t get a hold of him. It can’t matter since no one else saw him here,” Mitzy said.

  “Ben came around right when Diego Jr. should have showed up. He said he was looking for Mitzy but didn’t take the effort to find her. He was in and out. Reggie saw the car drive away but no one knows why he came or what he did here. He might have Diego Jr.”

  “What?” Mitzy asked, her voice rising in shock.

  “Don’t yell at me!” Carmella shrieked. “It’s not your kid that’s missing. Where is Ben, Mitzy? Why didn’t he make his appointment this afternoon?”

  “I don’t know, Carmella. But let’s not be crazy here. Let’s call some of Diego Jr.’s friends and see if he isn’t just goofing off,” Mitzy said, her voice straining to come down to a calm tone again.

  “I’m not crazy Mitzy. I know my kid. He’s not a runaway. And he’s not a goof off. He would’ve done what he was told,” Carmella said.

  “You’re right. You are right. But poor Ben isn’t involved. What do you think of Ben anyway? He’s a good guy. And he’s very busy.” Mitzy was floundering for good things to say about Ben.

  “Then where are they, Mitzy? Huh? I’m sick and tired of all of your drama. My kid is in danger and it’s your fault. You think you are too good for everyone, smarter than the cops, you think the mafia can’t get you. You keep putting all of us in danger and now someone’s got my kid. These things didn’t happen before you came along,” Carmella said, her words running together.

  Mitzy turned her back and took a very deep breath. She pressed the palms of her hands together until the pressure hurt, to keep herself from saying something unforgivable.

  “You can’t even defend yourself because you know it’s your fault.”

  Mitzy turned and looked at Carmella. Carmella’s face drawn, her red eyes shadowed from weeping and worry. She tried to maintain eye contact with Carmella, but the terrified mother would only look over Mitzy’s head. Before Mitzy could say anything Carmella began yelling again.

  “Who is following us? Who is it?” she screamed. She spun around looking off into the street. “Get out here and tell me where my son is. You saw it! You’re watching us!”

  Mitzy tried to lay a hand on Carmella’s shoulder again but Carmella pulled herself away.

  Mitzy counted to ten under her breath then speaking with a cool voice she attempted to be heard over Carmella’s yelling, “They aren’t there
anymore,” she said each word slow and clear. “The Feds stopped following us. I gave them the information they wanted Carmella. I did. And they aren’t there. If someone took Diego, nobody saw. You need to quit yelling so we can call the police.”

  Carmella collapsed onto the curb of the street and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Mitzy dug her phone out of her pocket, dialed 911 and handed the phone over to Carmella.

  Carmella reached one hand out for it, the other over her eyes, shielding her from the sight of Mitzy. She reported her son missing under suspicious circumstances for the last three hours. She kept the phone in her clenched fist. Mitzy reached for it, changed her mind, and walked away. She wasn’t sure that Diego was safe. She wasn’t sure that it wasn’t her fault. The Feds weren’t following her anymore, but she knew where to find them.

  “Do you think this missing child is related to our investigation?” Detective Backman asked. The Detective sat at her desk, a pile of manila folders testifying that she had plenty of other things to do. On the wall behind her hung a dozen or more framed certificates. There was a vase of flowers on the bookshelf. But if these were attempts at making the office a pleasant workplace, they weren’t working. It was a dismal room, dusty, stacked with binders and folders, the walls covered in locking file drawers.

  “Maybe. But I don’t know. Aren’t these things usually random? Or related to family? But the family is stable as far as that goes, and so hanging out at the inn is the most dangerous thing that the poor kid has been doing lately. Do you think it’s related?” Mitzy answered the question with a question. She only knew what Backman wanted her to know about the investigation.

  “If I write it down, and draw a line from the kidnapping to the house on my paper here, it is suddenly related. And when we are done with it we will know why and how. If I don’t write it down, it isn’t related and it never will be. Which would you prefer?”

  Mitzy shook her head. “No, that won’t do. If Diego Jr. was taken for some purpose related to what you are uncovering about illegal immigration then we will know about it. Making Diego Jr. disappear is only valuable to the mafia if they make a demand of us. If it’s related, someone will tell us. It has nothing to do with you writing it down.”

  “What if he ran away?” Backman asked, a look of concentration on her face as she weighed Mitzy’s mental abilities.

  “What if he did?” Mitzy said. “If he ran away because he hates all the work everyone is always doing, or because he hates moving, or because someone working on the inn has done something horrible to him then his disappearance is related to the inn. And then I guess it should be related to the investigation.”

  “No. If I write it down that the son of the manager of the inn where we found evidence ran away, then it is related to the case. We aren’t looking for cause and effect.”

  “I am.” Mitzy said.

  “What do you want me to do?” Backman said, looking at the clock on the wall behind Mitzy.

  “I want you to find Diego Jr.,” Mitzy said,

  “If I write this down in our file it becomes a part of our investigation. Think for a moment before you answer please. Do you want this kid to be part of our investigation?”

  Mitzy paused. She looked at Detective Backman, a woman that she did not trust and had no esteem for despite her position of authority. “Yes. Because we need to find the boy.”

  Detective Backman raised an eyebrow at Mitzy and smirked. She picked up her pencil, opened a file and made some notes. “The disappearance is related to our investigation now. I hope you don’t regret involving us,” Backman stood up, indicating that they were done.

  Was Mitzy glad she had involved the Feds? That was as yet to be seen.

  “Who else can we call?” The officer asked Carmella.

  Diego responded, “Have you called your mother yet?”

  “I’m not speaking to mom right now,” Carmella said, pinching her mouth shut.

  “You’ve got to call her now. Why aren’t you talking to her?” Diego asked.

  “After what she said about me running the inn? You weren’t there when she went off and I’m glad of it. You’d have broken something. I haven’t spoken to her in two months.”

  “Call her mother. Teresa Miramontes. The number is programmed, here.” Diego scrolled until he found his mother-in-law’s phone number. “She’d got to be told that Diego Jr. is missing.”

  Teresa answered the phone on the first ring. “So this is what it takes to get my own daughter to call me?” she said.

  The officer on the phone cursed caller ID under his breath. “Ma’am, this is Officer Jolnes of the Portland Police. I’m calling to ask if you have seen your grandson.”

  “It’s no thanks to his mother that I have,” she said. “He’s sitting right here having a coke and a canoli.”

  “He’s with you ma’am?” the officer asked.

  “Of course he is. He’s my grandson. And I haven’t seen him in two months. Who does that to a grandma, tell me that? I sent Carmella an email and asked if I could get him from school. I said if I didn’t hear from her I’d take that as a yes.”

  “She’s got Diego Jr.? The nerve!” Carmella said.

  The officer covered the mike on the cell phone. “Did you get her email?”

  “I don’t read anything she has to say! I’m not speaking to her.”

  “Is this an abduction then?” The officer asked, the cell phone still muffled under his hand.

  “Of course not,” Diego answered. “We’re sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No charges then? No problem,” the officer said, “You can’t be too careful.” He handed the phone back to Diego, tipped his hat, and left.

  “Give me the phone,” Carmella said.

  “He was in a hurry,” Diego said but he did not hand the phone back to his wife, “Hey Mom, Will you keep him there and safe for a while? I gotta talk to Carmella. Okay. Thanks.”

  “So now I’m not allowed to talk to my own mother?” Carmella said.

  “I’d better call Mitzy,” Alonzo said, excusing himself from the uncomfortable domestic scene.

  Unmarked cars surrounded Teresa Miramontes’ home though she didn’t know it. With his old-fashioned binoculars, one federal agent had sighted Diego Jr. sitting at a table eating. The agent was on the phone with his boss.

  “A family thing. Just like we thought,” he said.

  “Well, stay on him. Don’t let him out of your sight. In just one minute we will come in, while you are watching, and make the arrest. We’ll get the kid in our custody and then sort it out.”

  “It was too worth it. I still don’t want to talk to her,” Carmella said. “Mom sat there at dinner and said over and over again how happy she was that I’d get to work with Al. That it was so sure to be a success if Al was involved. I’m the oldest, not him. It will be a success because I am involved. He’s a success because I told him he would be. I’m sick of baby Al being the favorite.”

  “But think of how much she must have missed the kid? All of her friends are rolling in grandkids and she doesn’t see Diego Jr. for two months. Not cool Carmella.” Diego rubbed her tense shoulders while he talked to her in a low, slow voice. “We should get over there and talk things out, don’t you think?”

  She was relaxing under his strong fingers. “Yeah,” she said. “At least we need to get Diego Jr. back home.”

  At this point, Ben wished he had not told his fiancé Jenny in quite so many words how tired he was of wedding planning. It was true, but as things had turned out, terrible timing. Of course, he would have liked to call her, but the phone was not exactly accessible right now.

  Teresa wiped the table down while Diego Jr. rinsed his dishes. There weren’t many more years that the boy would want to sit and visit grandma. She’d have to pay the piper, probably by way of a scene with Carmella in a few minutes. But it was worth it to see the boy. He was good mannered for her, and charming. Big black eyes and dimples like his mother.

 
There was a loud thumping coming from the front door. How like Carmella to start the scene before she even came in, Teresa thought. She hung her wet washcloth over the edge of the sink, wiped her hands on her apron and went to the door. It flew open, almost knocking into her. She leaned on the wall, “For heaven’s sake!” she said. “Who on earth are you?” She righted her self and planted her feet shoulder width apart as she stood in her foyer.

  “FBI!” one of the men shouted, flashing a metal badge at her.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. Criminals! Fakes! She had heard about this on the news. She had to keep them from the kitchen and the boy.

  “Hold still and let me see that!” she said in a deep, loud voice.

  One man shoved a badge in her face. She stepped back to see it better. She fumbled in the pocket of her jacket for her reading glasses. While she tried to slip her glasses on the other man attempted to push her to the side and pass.

  She leaned into him so that he was stuck between her and the wall. “Where do you think you are going?” she asked with steel in her voice.

  “Where’s the boy?” The third man asked.

  The fourth man snuck around her on the other side where there was more room and said, “You have the right to remain silent,” while he slapped her wrists with cuffs.

  “What is this?” She cried out, in fear this time. The three strange men surged into the kitchen and surrounded her grandson.

  “Hey, Mitz,” Alonzo said. “No need to worry. Diego Jr. was just at Mom’s house.”

  Mitzy sighed, feeling the weight lift from her chest. Diego Jr. was the closest thing she had to a kid in the family. “Oh, what a relief. Carmella must be so glad. I’ll call Detective Backman and let her know.”

  “Why?” Alonzo asked.

  “I was scared so I asked them to get involved,” Mitzy said.

  “You do like having connections, don’t you?” Alonzo laughed.

  “It’s how I’m built. I just thought the more people looking the better. But I’ll call over there and let them know its okay.”