Connors and one of the other guys came to my rescue, but Lonny was still too much. The chair went down, one of the spindles in the back snapping. I tried moving him away from the table and other things he might break.
Scott came in with Alexa and helped too. Then Lucia was there, her voice subduing him.
“Lonny Hackett!”
He started to settle down then stopped altogether. When she wrapped her arms around him, he fell to the floor in a heap, his head buried in his knees, arms wrapped around his head. “Look what they done to my baby. My fault. It’s all my fault.”
Lucia sat on the floor next to him. It was her turn to offer comfort. She was good at that.
I empathized with Lonny. Parents blamed themselves when something happened to their kids. It didn’t matter if it was truly their fault; they took the blame. I remember blaming myself for Ron’s troubles: bad grades, brushes with the law, the drugs.
The drugs most of all. In his case though, it was my fault. I wasn’t there for him after Mary died, and if ever a kid needs a parent, it’s right after they lose one. Not me. I wallowed in self-pity, wondering why God was making me suffer.
I shot a look to Lonny, his head in Lucia’s lap, her stroking it. I recalled a strange reaction in him when listening to the original ransom call then his trip to the corner store and his search for the mysterious Willard. Now this. I tried imaging why he would blame himself for a kidnapping. How could this have been his fault? I didn’t have an answer, but I tucked the question in the back of my head. There was too much grief to bring it up now, but sooner or later Lonny had to answer to me for this, especially the Willard thing.
Does Lonny owe him money? Are drugs involved?
I shook my head to refocus. I needed to bring Jada back first…then I’d get to the bottom of the other questions.
“Oh God, Daddy. It’s Jada. Look!”
I spun around to see Alexa, the drama queen, staring at the photo. I rushed to her and Scott. “How about we take this outside? They don’t need to hear this.”
Scott acknowledged my words and led Alexa to the front door.
***
Alexa hadn’t stopped crying since she saw the picture. Scott held her, kissing her head. “She’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”
“How will she be all right?”
“I’m sure Detective Cataldi will catch them.”
She broke off from the embrace, stared up at her father with hard eyes. “Did you see that picture? You know what they probably did? She’ll never be all right after this.”
Scott nodded. There was nothing for him to say.
“Why can’t you do something about it, Daddy?”
“Like what?”
“Give them the money.”
“That’s seven million dollars.”
“It’s only money. It’s not like you don’t have enough.”
“The money isn’t mine. It’s—”
“I know. It’s the bank’s money now, but it’ll be yours soon.”
Frustrated, Scott started to walk away. “You have no concept of money, or of the work it takes to make it. Everything is given to you.” He paced. “Not for long, though. There are going to be changes around here.”
Alexa pointed her finger at him. “And you have no concept of what it’s like to have a friend. A real friend like Jada. She listens to me. She helps me out when I have problems.”
“You should have stayed with your mother.”
Alexa was crying again. “I wish I had. At least she cared about my friends.”
“Cared about your friends? She didn’t even care about you. She’s the one who called me, begging me to take you.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, Alexa. I’m not. Ask her yourself.”
Alexa stared at her father for a few seconds. “Thanks for telling me, Dad. It makes me feel so good.” Then she burst into tears. She stormed into the house, slamming the door so hard that Scott thought the etched glass might break. Now Scott had one more thing to worry about. He’d thought he was done with the ransom issue, had made up his mind that he couldn’t do it. But everyone seemed allied against him—Alexa, the detective, and, of course, the Hacketts. They never said anything specific, but he could see the accusations in their eyes and almost hear it in their voices whenever the subject of the ransom was raised. What the hell did they expect from him? It was seven million dollars.
***
I watched Alexa storm by, followed a moment later by Scott. I had no idea what that was about. When parents and kids are involved anything could trigger an argument, from the simplest to the most complex problems. The emotions seemed the same regardless of the degree. The Hacketts were still in the other room, almost in mourning. And I was holding down the fort in the kitchen, armed with coffee—good coffee—and nothing else. No clues. No idea where to go next. And no ransom money. That last hurt the most. I had no idea how we were going to save that girl without the ransom.
Unless we get lucky with the motel.
I looked at the picture again. The text underneath it said.
We’ll call soon.
Once again I got that sickening feeling of letting the Hacketts down. I hadn’t wanted this case to begin with. I hated kidnappings. Now I’d fucked up good, and that mistake was gonna cost. The longer Jada stayed with the kidnappers, the chances of her being raped or killed soared. It would take a miracle for her to come out of this even close to normal. Lonny Hackett should be blaming me, not himself. And God knew I didn’t need this. The nights weren’t long enough for me to cram more nightmares into them.
Chapter 44
Like Father, Like Son
Mars gritted teeth as he watched his mother fall apart. When his father cried, he turned his head, struggling to control the anger building inside him. He had a lot of his mother’s genes, and they worked to keep him focused. Mars said all the right things to his dad, made a few jokes about what Jada was probably thinking, and then insisted that when they caught the bad guys, he’d take care of them.
“You’re getting too old, Old Man,” he said. “You need to let the young blood handle the tough jobs.”
Inside though, anger kept building, and Mars was running out of places to stash it. Sooner or later, he’d have to let it go; he also had a lot of his father’s genes in him.
Besides what was happening to his parents, Mars had his own emotions to resolve. Seeing Jada like that… He swore right then that he’d kill the fuckers who did this if he found them. No fancy lawyers would ever get a chance with them.
Once his parents were doing better, he slipped into the kitchen, took the keys from his mother’s purse, and slipped out the door. Half a block away, he was already on the phone. The first person he called was Justin, a kid whose allowance was probably more than what Mars’ father made in a month, but he did his best to dress like he’d just escaped the slums. And he paid damn good money for that privilege. Justin answered right away. He always did. No one called him.
“S’up, dude?”
“Stop trying to talk like you’re black. I don’t even talk like that, and I am black.”
A pause, then, “What’s up, Mars?”
“Have you seen Jason Rules today?”
“Jason? The fuck you want him for?”
Mars sighed. “Did you forget the ‘what’ in that sentence? Have you seen him or not?”
“Down by the mall a little while ago. Him and all his boys.”
“Thanks.”
“What you want Jason for?”
“I’ll tell you later. Gotta go.”
On the way to the mall, Mars thought of all the fun times he and Jada had growing up. Of all the things she’d done for him over the years—helping him with homework, teaching him to dance, the crucial advice she gave about girls. She’d always been there for him. It was time for Mars to be there for her.
He pulled into the parking lot where Jason and his crew normally hung out. No sign of them, not even empty beer
cans to indicate that they had recently left. Mars headed out the back side of the mall and drove down to Whataburger, another likely hangout. Again, no Jason. He tried a park where they sometimes went, and when that didn’t pan out, a strip center that was almost abandoned. Bingo! There was Jason with his whole crew, hanging out and acting tough.
Those detectives had said they’d questioned Jason, but Jason would never tell the cops anything. That wasn’t the way he played the game. He and his “boys” dreamed of being gangstas, did everything they could to pretend they already were. The way Mars saw it, they were a bunch of punks living off the adoration of the sheep at school who thought they were cool. Jada and her friends included.
Mars didn’t know shit about this detective stuff, but he figured he could ask questions. He pulled alongside of Jason’s truck and got out. Jason didn’t acknowledge him, but they had never had a friendly relationship, and Mars was almost two years younger.
Mars walked up to him, got to within a few feet of the older boy, and stopped. He nodded. “Jason, have you seen my sister in the last few days?”
From a five- or six-inch height advantage, he sneered down at Mars. “You her dad?”
“She’s in trouble. I need to know if you’ve seen her, or if you know who she was with.”
“Cops already been there. I told them I got nothing.”
“I know what you told them, but I figured maybe you know something. Anything that would help.”
Jason didn’t look at Mars, but Mars continued. “She stayed at Alexa’s night before last. On her way to school, best as we can figure, somebody snatched her. Did you see anything? Talk to her that morning? See any cars or vans or trucks that didn’t belong in the neighborhood?”
“Go home, little man. I got no time for you.”
“You need to make time. I’m not leaving without answers.”
Jason’s crew surrounded Mars. He’d seen them do this before, mostly for intimidation. Jason had a tough-ass reputation, but from what Mars could tell, he seldom fought anyone. Never anyone tough.
Jason stepped up to Mars and flicked his cigarette at him. “Me and my boys don’t feel like talking. So you go on home. And when your sister comes home, tell her I’m a little hungry for some black meat.”
That drew a laugh from everyone but Mars, who grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. Jason broke the hold then pushed back. He threw his fists in the air, ready to fight. “Let’s go, motherfucker. You’re dead.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Jason. Tell me what you know.”
Jason came after Mars, throwing a right punch then pushing forward with a left.
Mars grabbed hold of Jason’s arm with his left hand, and Jason’s collar with his right. As he pulled Jason with his movement, Mars’ right foot swept Jason off his feet. He hit the parking lot—hard.
Mars was on top of him in a second. He took hold of Jason’s left arm, twisted it then got him in an arm-bar, a jiu-jitsu hold. From there, he could break Jason’s arm with one move. The fight was over less than half a minute after it had started. All that remained was getting the information.
“What do you know about Jada?”
“Let go of my fucking arm. You’re breaking it.”
“It’s not broken yet, but if you don’t talk, it will be.” Mars kept an eye on Jason’s boys, but they weren’t doing anything. As he figured, the whole bunch of them were pussies. Mars put more pressure on Jason’s arm, bringing him to the point where it could break at any moment. He was begging Mars to let him go.
Mars was convinced of two things right now—Jason didn’t know where Jada was, and he was a bigger pussy than he’d thought. Mars let go of his arm and got to his feet, waiting for Jason to get up. “Go near Jada again, and I’ll take you out for good.”
“Who the fuck you think you are?” one of Jason’s boys said.
Mars stared him down. “I’m a Hackett.” He got into position to fight, shoulders slightly hunched, arms out from his sides. “I got plenty left if you want some.”
The boy backed off. “I got no time for little sixteen-year-old punks.”
“Just for tonight, how about we pretend I’m eighteen? Come on. Let’s do it.”
The other guy backed up quickly. The circle that had formed around Mars parted. Mars straightened up, looked at each of them as he went through. “Any of you see anything?”
No one responded until Mars got to his car. One of the boys broke rank and walked over.
“Mars, wait up.”
“You got something?”
“I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, but yesterday morning I’m waiting at my bus stop, and I see this lady drive by three times.”
“Where’s your bus stop?”
“A couple of blocks from Alexa’s house.”
“Same lady? You’re sure?”
“I know it was the same lady. She’s a goddamn fox. I park valet over at Kirby’s. She came in a few times. I mean a stone-cold fox.”
“You know her name or where she lives?”
“I know part of her plate. VNA, then some numbers.”
“How the hell do you remember that?”
“When we parked it the first time and she got out, me and my bro couldn’t quit staring at her ass. Then he saw the plate and said ‘Check it out, VNA—very nice ass.’ We laughed about that.”
“How old was this woman?”
“I don’t know, dude. She was a fox, a cougar, a bobcat, one of them things. All I know is she had a damn nice ass.”
Mars tapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
“No problem. See you around.”
Mars drove to Alexa’s house. He had no idea if this information would be any use to the detective, but it was worth a shot. Jason needed his ass kicked anyway.
Chapter 45
The Call
Tension was high at the Winthrop house. Not a smile was to be found. If someone had dropped a live grenade, it would have been a mad rush to see who could dive on it first to end their misery. It was seven o’clock, but none of us had eaten dinner, living off coffee, a few biscuits left from breakfast, and a bag of pretzels we found in the cupboard.
When the phone rang a few minutes later, it might as well have been a live grenade. Everyone jumped.
One of the techs stepped into the kitchen on the second ring. “Unknown caller!”
I looked around and found Lonny. “Remember, not a word.”
Scott stood beside me looking nervous.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Pick it up on my signal,” I said, “and remember, keep looking at this pad. If I need to tell you something, I’ll write it down.”
We all got our headsets on. On the fifth ring, I gave Scott the go ahead.
“Hello.”
“Is this Mr. Winthrop?” It was the same voice as last time, the professional one.
“This is he.”
“You messed up sending that cop.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Bad as that was, though, you really fucked up by not sending the money.”
I scribbled on the paper. Blame me.
“The cop said it was best…”
Money tainted, I wrote.
“He said the money was—”
“Bullshit! Tell Detective Cataldi to stop feeding you lines.”
The front door opened, and Mars came in. Sameena got to him before he could say anything. She had him go back with his parents.
Scott did a good job of composing himself. “What do you want?”
“What I wanted all along. Seven million dollars. And you know how we want it.” A long pause, then, “The problem is, you made a mistake and it’s going to cost you. If your daughter was a virgin before, your greed has cost her that.”
The first thing I thought of was Lonny going wild. I turned quickly. He was about to react when Lucia’s hand went over his mouth.
“Don’t you dare say a word. They
’ll kill her.”
***
Scott heard the words If she was a virgin before, your greed has cost her that. He cringed, felt like crawling into a hole. “No!”
The man on the phone said, “It was your greed that did it. You’re to blame.”
Scott had built his career on making quick, insightful decisions. He hoped his fortune continued, because he was about to make another decision, and he had no time to consult with Gino about it. “I’ll pay you an extra hundred-thousand dollars.”
“I’m afraid—”
Before the kidnapper finished, a woman’s voice from the background interrupted him. “Wait!”
Silence followed then what sounded like arguing before the man came back on the line. “A nice surprise, Mr. Winthrop. We are not unreasonable people. We reward creativity. Make sure you add the new money to the bags.”
Scott thought about the decision he’d just made. It could be a life-changing one. Somehow, though, he felt better. Cleaner. “What about my daughter? When will I see her?”
“After we get the money.”
“How—”
“Oh, and Mr. Winthrop, come yourself this time. Don’t send a cop pretending to be Uncle Eddy.”
Detective Cataldi scribbled furiously on the scratch pad. Don’t do it.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
“A wise decision. We’ll call in the morning, after you get the money from the bank. I’ll call around ten.”
As Scott was about to hang up, the man spoke again. “One more thing. Go to Academy and pick up two Adidas sports bags. You’ll need two bags for the money, as it’s quite heavy. We’ve already tested these bags; they’re big enough to handle that amount. Each bag will weigh about seventy pounds, but you’re a strong man, Winthrop. I’m confident you can manage.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Good.”
***
Scott hung up, looking as if he’d been victorious. I didn’t know if he had or not, but at least we’d bought some time. Before I could gather my thoughts, Lonny rushed into the kitchen.
“What about Jada? Do you think—”
Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery Page 22
