Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  “Let me call Rosalee.” He put his phone on speaker and dialed. “Don’t forget to say hi to her, Gino. You know she loves you.”

  Rosalee answered right away. “Ribs, where are you? It’s late.”

  Even Rosalee called him Ribs. Of course, she’d known him since he was ten, so she grew up with the nickname.

  “I’m with Gino, mi chula. We picked up some girls and right now we’re locked in a motel room. I don’t think I’ll make it home tonight.”

  A long silence, then, “Are you and Gino out playing poker again?”

  I laughed. “Rosalee, you are the only woman I know who would suspect her husband of playing cards instead of cheating on her.”

  “I’m the only woman that would put up with his ass, Gino.” She laughed, then, “How’s Ron?”

  “He’s doing great ever since rehab.”

  “I talked to him last week. Did he tell you?”

  “He said you called. Thanks. It meant a lot to him.”

  “I’m taking Marianna to see him next week. She’s making tamales.”

  “He’ll love that, Rosalee. I’m gonna give you back to that asshole husband of yours now. You take care.”

  “Are you really going to be out all night, Ribs?”

  “We might be. We’re trying to find the kidnapped girl.”

  “Dios mio! I’ll be praying for her.”

  “Buenas noches, mi amorcita.”

  “Buenas noches, querido.”

  Ribs hung up and looked over to me. “Where to?”

  “Let’s get breakfast.”

  “Denny’s?”

  “If you’ve got a better idea, I’ll take it. If not…I’ve got Tums.”

  Ten minutes later, we slid into a booth at the same Denny’s that Doran had been to this morning. That seemed like days ago. The waitress pounced on us. She had coffee cups filled before we said we wanted any. I thought of ordering tea just to piss her off.

  She pulled out her order pad with a sparkly green Bic pen attached to it and positioned herself to take our orders.

  “We’re going to need some time,” I said. That sent her away in a huff.

  “Treat the lady with kindness,” Delgado said. “Or she’ll put something in our food.”

  Delgado always made me laugh. “Okay, Ribs, you win.”

  “You know, I been thinking since you brought this up. This sounds too familiar, almost like the poker games and the home invasions, where they also knew too much.”

  I ripped the top off the second container of creamer, dumped it into my coffee, and stirred. “Goddamnit, Ribs. Goddamnit!” I pulled out my cell and looked up Doran’s number.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Doran.”

  “It’s ten thirty.”

  “I don’t give a shit.”

  After the fifth ring, he answered. “Doran, it’s Gino.”

  His voice sounded sleepy. I found myself envious. “Detective, what’s going on?”

  “In the garage today, you said they wore gloves and masks.”

  “Yeah, both of them.”

  “Tell me about the gloves. Describe them.”

  “Latex ones, you know, the kind doctors wear.”

  Surgeons’ gloves. Just like the others. “And they wore masks. What kind?”

  “Dark nylons. Why, what’s going on?”

  “Anything else? Did they say anything to each other? Mention names?”

  “No names. One guy called the other one ‘boss.’ That’s all.”

  I clenched my fist and forced myself to stay calm. “Boss? You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m sure. Why?”

  “I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Be there early.”

  I hung up and turned to Ribs. “These are the same fuckers who did the Marshall house.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We can forget the masks and gloves, but Doran said one of them called the other one Boss.”

  Ribs nodded. “Works for me. Sounds like the kind of organization they use. Structured, disciplined. Masks. Gloves. No mistakes.” Ribs sipped his coffee, added another sugar to it then stirred more. “I know you don’t want to think about it, but if these are the guys who did the Marshalls’ house, it means they’re the ones who did the poker games.”

  I nodded. “I’m way past you. That means they’ve not only have Jada, they may have Mary’s watch.”

  “It’s nice that we figured this out, but the problem is, they don’t make mistakes.”

  “Except one.”

  “One what?”

  “One mistake. They shouldn’t have taken that girl.”

  Chapter 48

  Gino Makes a Chart

  We finished a greasy breakfast, mopped it up with toast, and chased it down with bad coffee. If there had been hope of sleeping before this, it was gone. On the way to my house, we discussed the best way to crack this case and agreed that we couldn’t rely on them letting Jada go. We had to find her. The ransom wouldn’t guarantee her safety. It might, however, make it easier to catch the kidnappers.

  Delgado went straight to the fridge at my house and got a Corona.

  “How can you drink beer after eating that breakfast?”

  He put on his best Mexican accent and said, “It’s a Corona, amigo.”

  I laughed again, the second time tonight. “Boil some water. I’m making coffee.”

  “You know, Gino, I think what’s more important than what they know is what they didn’t know. That’s what we need to focus on.”

  I got a tablet out and a few pens and drew a chart.

  What they knew: What they didn’t know:

  Knew Scott’s home number/Too easy to get. Not an issue.

  Knew Scott’s cell number/Same

  Knew the money was ready at bank/Did not know we didn’t have money

  Knew Detective Cataldi’s name/First time we knew that was at garage

  Knew Doran had a cell phone/But didn’t say “Don’t bring it.”

  Knew Doran wasn’t Uncle Eddy/But not until they got to garage?

  Delgado stood over my shoulder, nodding. He grabbed a big red marker and wrote at the bottom:

  Biggest one of all—do not know they have wrong girl.

  I looked at him and nodded. “You’re right about that. That’s the biggest mystery. How the fuck do they know everything else but not that?”

  “That’s what we’ve got to figure out. We do that, and we’ve got them.”

  I got up to fix my coffee, and Ribs took my seat. “How about we start by scratching out who knows everything? We can eliminate them.”

  “To start off with, all the cops know the case, so we can eliminate them.”

  “What about the support team? We’ve got Julie, Fat Charlie—”

  “Get serious. No way they’re leaking anything.”

  “Gino, they’re not the only ones on the support team. They used a dozen people calling motels and gathering information. Any one of them could be a leak.”

  “I don’t buy it. I know it could happen, but I don’t buy it.”

  “Okay,” Ribs said. “We’ve got Winthrop, the Hacketts, Alexa, Mars, the techs at the house…”

  As he ran down the list, I gave them thought. “No way on the Hacketts. Same for Alexa.”

  The timer went off for my coffee. I poured it, added cream, and walked back to the table. “No on the techs…”

  “That leaves Winthrop,” Ribs said.

  “And all of the people Winthrop and Alexa have blabbed to. It’s no wonder the kidnappers have the information. Half the people in The Woodlands know.”

  “We need to find out what he told his colleagues.”

  I sipped the coffee. Shivered. “Ribs, what was the name of that coffee Winthrop had?”

  “Martin Henry.”

  “What?”

  “It’s comes from Martin Henry Roasters, somewhere in the Northwest.”

  “Damn, it was good.”

  “I could get used to
it,” Ribs said.

  I sipped some more coffee. Paced some more. “Okay, so who’s giving them information? They knew about the money at the bank being ready. They knew Doran wasn’t Uncle Eddy. But they don’t know they have the wrong girl. How is that possible? Is it someone from Scott’s work? Do the people he works with hate him as much as I do?”

  Delgado jotted down more notes. “Their knowing about Doran doesn’t bother me that much. They could have made him for a cop. Maybe they had a kid with them. Teenagers can pick a cop out of a crowd by sight, smell, or sound.”

  Delgado had a point. Something gave us away to kids. It was a lifelong mystery likely to never be solved. “Okay we throw out the Doran issue. That still leaves us with a lot of questions.”

  “We don’t have time for it, Gino. We’re gonna need more help.”

  It didn’t take long for me to decide. “I’m calling Tip.”

  “Captain’s not gonna like that.”

  I dialed Tip’s number. After a few rings he picked up.

  “Tip Denton, best damn detective in Texas.”

  It had been a long time since I’d heard that asinine phrase of his. “What happened to ‘best in the world’?”

  “Today I’m only best in Texas. And what the hell are you doing calling this late? You know I need my beauty sleep.”

  “I need help, old partner.”

  “On that home invasion?”

  “Kinda. I’m still on that, but the last two days, I’ve been on a kidnapping. We’re pretty sure the same people are involved. And by the way, if you haven’t heard, in the home invasion deal, that kid died. It’s now felony murder.”

  “Y’all can count me in on this. What do you need?”

  “I got Delgado over at my house. Come over, and we’ll plot this out.”

  Half an hour later, Tip walked in with three cups of coffee and three taquitos. I didn’t have the nerve to tell him we’d already eaten; besides, no way I was turning down a taquito. I filled Tip in on everything from the poker games up to tonight’s disaster at the motel in Conroe.

  He sat still, looking deep in thought. “I’m gonna have to interview that thong-panties girl first. She sounds like the culprit to me. Might take me the rest of the night, but I’ll get it done.”

  Delgado’s laughter cranked Tip up. “Delgado, did I ever tell you the one about the midget and the sex-starved Mexican?”

  I made more coffee. This was going to be a very long night.

  “Did you call Coop?” Tip asked.

  “I’m calling her now.”

  “Oh shit.”

  It rang four times before she answered. “Cataldi, I swear to the Lord in heaven, this better be an emergency.”

  “I need Tip on this case. We’ve got too many leads to follow and no time to do it.”

  “Have you called him yet?”

  I opted not to answer that question. “Were you sleeping?”

  “I was in the damn tub. Again.”

  Tip grabbed the phone. “Hey, darlin’, can I come over and share that tub with you?”

  “Denton, is that you? I knew it. It’s starting already.” We heard the sounds of water splashing, like she was getting out of the tub. “I better not end up with a bunch of bodies.”

  “Thanks, Coop. We’ll call in the morning.”

  “It is the morning.”

  After that, we got back to strategizing. The plan was for Tip to go to Scott’s work to interview his team and anyone else he came in close contact with. Delgado would pick up where he left off with Lance and his crew of mercenaries, and I would head to the bank with Scott, pick up the money then wait for the kidnappers to call.

  Delgado said, “I hope those fuckers forget their smart pills tomorrow, because they sure outfoxed us today.”

  About four o’clock, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I have to catch a few hours of sleep. One of you can crash on the couch, and there’s a spare bed in the other room.”

  “I’ll take the couch,” Delgado said.

  “Wake me early,” Tip said. “I’m fixin’ to shoot somebody before noon.”

  “Remember what Coop said, Tip. This ain’t Tombstone.”

  “It was you that shot everybody last time. Not me.”

  “Good night, Tip.”

  “Night, darlin’.”

  I heard Delgado laughing as I went to bed.

  As I lay in bed, I heard the clock ticking, heard the house creaking, heard goddamn Delgado snoring, even through the walls. It was no wonder I couldn’t sleep. Worst of all, I could hear Lucia crying when she saw that picture of Jada naked. I’d promised these people I’d bring her home safe. How was I going to do that? These guys had outsmarted me at every turn, and I had no brilliant plans for tomorrow.

  For another hour, I lay there, running the whole thing through my head again and again. I pictured the way they handled the drop with Doran, tried to anticipate what they might do tomorrow…today. Then I thought about the motel angle, assuming Alexa’s interpretation of Jada’s Uncle Eddy comment was correct. I closed my eyes and pictured them in the room, Jada tied to the bed. Suddenly it hit me. What were they doing when the maids come in? I jumped out of bed. “Delgado! Tip! Get up.”

  “What’s going on?” Delgado sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  Tip stumbled into the kitchen. “I said early, but I wanted some sleep.”

  Adrenaline rushed through me. “Ribs, what do they do when the maids come?”

  He looked at me as if I were nuts. “What?”

  “The maids! Motel rooms are cleaned every day. These guys can’t have maids coming in with Jada there.”

  Delgado jumped up, a light in his eyes. “Hijo de puta! A do-not-disturb sign.”

  “Exactly! So we get Julie to find all the rooms that have had do-not-disturb signs on them for the past two days, and we’ve got ’em, Ribs. We’ve got ’em.”

  “I want in on this,” Tip said. “Fuck interviewing a bunch of scientists. I want to shoot somebody.”

  I grabbed Delgado’s cell phone; mine was charging. “Anybody know Julie’s number?”

  Tip poured water into the coffee pot. “You mean Sixties Julie?”

  “That’s her.”

  “It’s probably some combination of the astrological chart and a Bob Dylan song.”

  Delgado was still rubbing his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know, but it sounded good.”

  I shook my head and stared at Ribs. “You see what I mean.”

  Tip gave me the number, and I called Julie, fully prepared to apologize profusely. She answered on the first ring, sounding every bit like the Sixties Julie she always did. I heard the unmistakable sound of “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” in the background. Combined with her chipper voice, I could only assume she had not yet been asleep, which caused me to wonder once again about the contents of the lunch bags that she brought every day—and guarded ferociously.

  “Julie, I hate to bother you, but we need help.”

  “No problem, Gino. What have you got?”

  I filled her in on the motel idea and asked if she could get some people on the phones right away.

  “I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks. And call Delgado with any news.” I started to hang up, then remembered I hadn’t run the plates Mars had given me, “One more thing. Get Herb or somebody to run plates that start with VNA. Put the ones registered to women at the top of the list. Check for the usual. And Julie, have him separate the ones that live close to Winthrop.”

  “Peace, Gino.”

  She caught me by surprise with that one. “Yeah, uh…peace.”

  Tip was staring at me with that twisted scar on his face laughing at me. “Peace?”

  “Fuck you, Tip.”

  I regretted it as soon as I said it, forgetting how ridiculous he was.

  “Well, all right, but I ain’t bending over.”

  As we walked out the back door, Tip
checked his gun. He really did want to shoot someone.

  Chapter 49

  Keeping Busy

  Lucia cooked breakfast for everyone, finding time to even sing a song or two. It wasn’t the happiest of times, but things looked good for Jada coming home, and nothing could be better than that. Mars and Alexa had gone to the grocery store for food then worked on making coffee and serving people meals. She finished a batch of eggs then walked over to Gino. “Detective, you need to eat something. Coffee by itself won’t get you through the day.”

  Gino smiled at her. “You convinced me. I’ll take whatever you’ve got ready.”

  Lucia scooped fried potatoes from the pan, added a few pieces of sausage, and plopped a large spoonful of scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Do you want toast?”

  He looked at the plate with a sideways glance. “Might as well clog all my arteries.”

  When breakfast was done, Lucia corralled Mars and Alexa into helping with dishes, while she cleaned counters and swept the floor.

  “I’ve got someone who comes to clean,” Scott said. “No need for you to do that.”

  Lucia looked at him, nodded, but kept sweeping. “No sense in leaving it dirty for them. I got nothing but time, Mr. Winthrop. Besides, sweeping is good work. It keeps me busy and takes my mind off things.”

  After sweeping, Lucia wiped the ovens clean—both of them. What’s a single man and one girl need two ovens for? She doubted he used even one. Probably ate out most of the time. And paying people to clean his house and take care of his lawn. Person could make a living just taking care of this man.

  She finished the kitchen then worked her way across the tile floors of the family room and onto the patio. Worry pushed her. Worry about her baby girl and what she was going through. Worry over how she’d had hollered at Jada about that darn prom dress. Most of all, worry that it was her fault. Shouldn’t have let her come to school here. Shouldn’t have tried getting uppity.

  Lucia stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom as she wiped away tears. How would Lonny deal with all of this on top of everything else he had on his plate? Lucia started sweeping again, moving over the flagstone patio’s rough edges and sunken joints. She spotted a few joints that had cracked, the mortar loose.