by G. K. Parks
Before I could say a word to the contrary, he climbed off the stool and headed for a booth in the back. Picking up my beer, I followed him, wondering if I got knifed or poisoned if anyone would do a damn thing about it. Who was I kidding? They’d probably celebrate with a round of drinks for everyone.
Seventeen
“We think it’s a group of teenagers. Young, rich kids who enjoy the rush.” Officer Gallo swallowed more of his mojito. “You know how people like that can be.” He gestured at my appearance.
“No, how can they be?”
He chuckled uncomfortably. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, but you were one of those troublemakers.”
“I didn’t grow up rich. This,” I indicated my shirt and jacket, “I made for myself. As far as being a troublemaker, I’d call it more of a whistleblower.” I fought to keep my expression neutral.
“Sure, whatever. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I tucked one hand in my pocket to keep Gallo from noticing my fingers were clenched into a fist. “So you think the break-in at Trey Knox’s house was conducted by teenagers?”
“I can’t say for certain, but we think the other recent home invasions were. A tip came in, and after some digging, we found some online videos of a group of kids inside two of the burglarized homes.”
“Do you remember the link?”
Gallo glanced around as he removed his phone from his pocket. “I have a copy here.” He hit play and held it out.
I watched the footage for a moment. Three girls and one guy. I couldn’t be certain of their ages, but from their clothing, builds, and word choices, they might have been kids or young adults somewhere in the fifteen to twenty-five age range. At least they were smart enough to wear masks. “Are you sure they’re just kids?”
“Yeah, that one,” Gallo paused the video and zoomed in, “is wearing a varsity jacket for a local high school. There’s the mascot, and if you look closely, you can make out the HS right there.”
I squinted briefly at the feed before tapping play. “How much damage resulted from these home invasions?”
“Not much. They stole some jewelry, cash, and a few smaller electronics and appliances, just like what happened to Mr. Knox.”
“Do you know how they gained access to these other homes?”
“We’re still working on it, but they might have been there before for parties or whatnot.”
“Parties?”
“The victims all have children under the age of twenty-one.”
“Knox doesn’t.”
“No, he doesn’t, which is why I’m not sure the crimes are connected.” Gallo stared down at his phone. “Like I told you at the precinct, we’re on the same side. Help me out here. Have you found anything to contradict this? I want to help Knox, but I can’t do that when the detective in charge is chasing a bunch of bored, rich kids.”
“Why does he think they’re committing these crimes?”
“For the adrenaline rush, probably. It could also be based on a dare or some form of revenge or hazing. We assume the perpetrators must know the kids who live in the homes they targeted, which is how they knew when the families would be out.”
“Sounds plausible. Any idea what they are doing with the jewelry and electronics?”
“We’re not sure. We’ve checked area pawn shops but found nothing. We have feelers out and asked several of the owners we trust to let us know if a kid comes into the store, but no one’s seen or heard anything.”
“Or they just aren’t telling you.”
Gallo pointed a finger at me. “Brilliant deduction.”
I leaned back in the seat and rubbed my eyes. “Check online. Depending on what kind of jewelry they’ve taken, they might just mail it off to one of those cash for gold places.”
The cop gave me a cockeyed look. “You’re actually helping?”
“Call it what you want. It was just a suggestion.”
“Huh.” Despite Gallo’s earlier proclamation that we were on the same side, followed by his veiled insults, he genuinely seemed surprised that I’d offer a suggestion, which meant my reputation preceded me. “I’ll look into that. Is that what you’re doing to track down Knox’s belongings?”
“You said the police checked area pawn shops. What do you know about Pauley’s Pawn?”
He chuckled. “Is that how you answer a question? With a question of your own?”
I remained silent and nursed my beer. He didn’t have to answer since I was certain whatever he said wouldn’t be the least bit helpful, but I had asked anyway. After all, I didn’t know what I didn’t know.
“You must get that hard ass thing from your father.”
“I also get my piercing stare from him, but that’s all the bastard gave me.”
“Yeah, we checked Pauley’s. They’re one of the biggest pawn shops in the area. They got everything. Microwaves, vacuum cleaners, hunting rifles, knockoff handbags. But they didn’t have any of the stolen merch.”
“Have they been problematic in the past?”
“Not really.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? Are you on to something?”
“Nope.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. C’mon, tell me what’s going on.”
I’d already said more than I should have, but I wasn’t worried. I wanted to know what the cops knew. “Quid pro quo?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Pauley’s was a bust, but a couple of the guys in there made me uncomfortable.” I stared at him, searching his face for microexpressions. “And ever since I paid that pawn shop a visit, someone’s been following me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” The genuine intrigue on Gallo’s face convinced me he didn’t know the answer to my question. That didn’t rule out the possibility it was a cop. After all, Gallo was a career officer who had misplaced affection for my father. He might have been kept out of the loop intentionally. However, his ignorance reassured me that Will Esposito hadn’t filed a police report against me, so that was a plus.
“What do these guys look like?” he asked.
“The ones from the shop?”
“Yep.”
I shrugged. “Guys. Rough-looking. You know the type—beefy. You could sand a table down with their faces. Those kinds of guys.”
“So, not a pretty boy like you?”
“I’m not pretty. Remember the piercing stare?”
Gallo shook his head. “Is it a requirement to be a smart ass in order to get a P.I. license?”
“It depends.”
“No wonder we call you private dicks.”
I continued to stare at him.
“What about the guy tailing you? What does he look like?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him. I saw two rough-looking gentlemen inside the pawn shop, but I can’t be certain it’s either of them.”
“Then how do you know someone is following you?”
“Call it intuition.”
“I call it paranoid.” Gallo eyed me again, the lightbulb flickering on over his head. He’d heard stories. “Maybe you shouldn’t worry so much about it. It’s probably just a hazard of the job. You spend too much time watching dirtbags, you start imagining they’re watching you back.”
I didn’t say anything. Almeada would want me to give the officer a few details, but something told me that offering up extraneous information would bite me in the ass. I just wasn’t sure how, but it would. “So kids, huh?”
“That’s the theory.”
“They shouldn’t be hard to ID. You know what high school they go to. Ask around. If you find one, you’ll find them all.”
“That’s what the detective in charge said.” Gallo finished his mojito and placed the empty glass beside mine. “Do you want another?”
“No. I’m on my way out.”
Gallo looked at his watch. “Yeah, the missus will start wondering where I am if I don’t get home soon.” But he lingered.
“What?”
“You know something. I just don’t know what, but we both know Knox had no reason to cross paths with a bunch of high schoolers.”
“Maybe they bonded over sports. Your male suspect has a varsity jacket. That could be your connection.”
“You’re shitting me.”
I shrugged. “No stone unturned, remember?” I tapped the table twice and headed for the door. I didn’t believe for a second that teenagers were responsible for the break-in at Knox’s house, but suggesting they were might be enough to distract Gallo away from my investigation. Sure, I offered up Pauley’s Pawn, but that was so I could see if the cops had any interest in it, which they didn’t. That only reinforced my opinion that they had no idea what they were doing. Unfortunately, neither did I.
The cool night air brought my senses to full alert. Instead of going straight to my car, I decided to take a stroll. The FOP stickers and decals on several of the cars told me they belonged to the cops and retired cops inside drinking. Ignoring them, I looked around, but I didn’t spot any silver SUVs with bike racks. Instead, I spotted two black, one white, a red, and possibly a green SUV parked within a block of KC’s.
This was pointless. I’d determined as much earlier. Yet, here I was, standing on the sidewalk playing I Spy. “You need a life, Lucien. Jade’s right. You probably need to date, or at least get laid.” And now I was talking to myself. Shaking it off, I returned to my parked car and climbed inside.
When I pulled out of the space, no one followed me. On the drive to meet Freddy G, I made sure to maintain my speed, use my turn signals, and obey traffic signs. I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t even close. But after listening to Jim’s accusations, I had a nagging desire to prove I wasn’t self-destructive. And since I hadn’t come to blows with any cops inside the bar, that meant I needed to avoid coming to blows with any cops outside the bar too. At least for tonight.
When I arrived at the apartment building where Freddy was housesitting, I took the elevator to the top floor. The front door was cracked open. “Freddy?” I called.
This wouldn’t be the first time he left the door open. Last time this happened, I’d found a trail of lingerie which led to a dozen women in the midst of a naked pillow fight. One of Freddy’s other clients had requested a very specific porno, and Freddy was in the midst of filming when I’d come to pick up something unrelated.
“Freddy?” My hand traveled to the gun at my hip, just beneath my jacket. “It’s Lucien. Are you here?”
The living room looked like it had been tossed. The couch cushions lay scattered around the floor. A chair had been overturned, and pieces of broken glass crunched beneath my feet.
I continued deeper into the apartment and checked the bedroom. The corner of the sheet hung from a lopsided lamp. Every drawer had been yanked from the dressers and dumped onto the floor. The sound of running water came from the attached bathroom.
“Freddy?”
Light filtered out from the crack in the door. I nudged it open with my gun hand, reminding myself that I should use my free hand to open doors. That’s why cops always keep their gun hand empty, the voice of one of my academy instructors whispered in my ear.
Freddy turned sideways to look at me. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry—”
Blood ran from his scalp down the side of his face. A large welt had formed near his temple, just above the corner of his left eyebrow. He turned back to the sink, squeezing his eyes shut as he grabbed the edge to steady himself.
I stepped closer, noticing the blood droplets on the tile floor and the cracks in the mirror. “What happened?” I asked.
Freddy rinsed the washcloth one more time before holding it against his face. “I need to sit down.” His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor like a brick.
Eighteen
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?” I rubbed a hand over my mouth and surveyed the damage.
“I’ll be okay.” Freddy sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the mess before him. “Fucking assholes.”
“Who did this?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I fought the urge to protest. “What did they want?”
“You need to leave this alone.”
I raised my palms and took a step back. “Fine.”
Freddy tried to stand, wobbled, and plopped back onto the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, supporting his head in his hands.
“You probably have a concussion. Maybe worse. You need a CT scan.”
“Lucien, stop. I can’t. The paramedics will see this mess and call the cops.”
“Fine, I’ll drive you to the hospital. It’s no big deal.”
“No.”
“Urgent care?”
Glaring at me, he dragged himself off the bed and headed back into the living room, too stubborn to accept the help I offered. “I can’t risk it. They might draw blood, and that’ll land me in jail, at least for the night. I’m not getting arrested because of this.”
I looked around the room. “When’s the last time you used?”
“A few hours ago.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to work.”
“No kidding.” Freddy sat in one of the few chairs that remained upright, eyeing the drink cart across the room. “I can’t get the ring.”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
“Yes, it does.” The look on his face worried me. “You have to let this go. You want to get some guy’s sports collection back, but it’s not worth it. Tell him to start over. What’s done is done. I can’t help you find the ring or get it back. I’m sorry.”
Picking up one of the fallen chairs, I placed it beneath the table and reached for another one. “Tell me who did this.”
“I don’t know. They busted in here, searching for something.”
“What’d they take?”
“A half a brick of coke and about ten grand, give or take.”
“Shit.”
“It could have been worse.” Freddy laughed. “It’s not like I can report them to the police.”
“I can handle it.”
“Let it go, Luci. I mean it. You need to back the fuck off.” He exhaled and peeled the towel away from his face, checking to see if the wound was still bleeding. “They came here tonight for a reason, and if you’d been on time, you would have been here when they barged inside.”
“You’re telling me they came here for me?”
“I don’t know, but my customers don’t typically shove a gun in my face or cold-cock me. Only warm cocks are allowed around here.”
Freddy G dealt with plenty of shady types, from drug dealers to fences. Any one of them might have wanted revenge, but Freddy had been in the business for the better part of a decade, possibly longer. He cultivated relationships and exchanged favors. Pissing people off wasn’t something he did.
“Did you welch on a debt?” I asked.
“Not me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, but one of them said this would serve as payment for the additional trouble, whatever that means.”
“What are you working on, besides tracking down the ring for me?”
“That’s about it. Like I told you, I’m housesitting. I’ve hosted a few parties. Nothing out of the ordinary. Lately, it’s just been a lot of little things. Box seats, sold out tickets, a few dime bags here and there, intel on a competing corporate entity. Let’s just say, I haven’t dealt with anyone who would act this uncivilized or violent. My clientele doesn’t bust into my place of business brandishing weapons. They know better. I have a no tolerance policy.”
“So this is about the ring.”
“Whoever stole it doesn’t want to give it back, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be found. You should drop the case. These shitheads mean business.”
Crossing to the security panel on the wall, I removed the front and peered at the wiring. The penthouse didn’t have any cameras inside, which
worked in Freddy’s favor but not mine. “The building has security cameras. I saw one in the elevator. They might have more. Once I get the footage, I’ll figure out who’s responsible and sit them down for a nice chat.”
“Not too nice.” Freddy got out of the chair, slightly more stable than he had been, and rinsed the washcloth in the sink before wringing it out and holding it against his temple. “Is this the kind of thing you do now?”
“Security? Yeah, it’s my schtick. Didn’t I give you a business card?”
“Not that.” He swallowed. “When I started out a million years ago as a runner, I promised myself if I got out, I’d never deal with those types again. Occasionally, we cross paths, but it’s always business. Congenial. Whatever happened here tonight is some back alley shit that I want no part of.” The attack had freaked out Freddy G, the guy who could get you anything at any time.
I stepped out of the apartment, but I didn’t spot any cameras in the hallway. The one in the elevator would have to do, so I rode down to the lobby. After some cajoling, I was granted access to the security office. The footage didn’t show much, but the two guys who rode the elevator to the top floor around 11:30 had to be the men who assaulted Freddy. I printed a few stills and went back upstairs.
Freddy had fixed the couch cushions and leaned his head back with the washcloth pressed against the still bleeding gash. At the sound of the door, he opened his eyes and peered at me. A six-shooter sat on the seat beside him.
“I come in peace.” I eyed the gun. “I’ve never seen you with hardware.”
“I know a guy.”
“You know lots of guys.” I handed him the printed photos. “Do you know these guys?”
“Aside from our run-in an hour ago, I’ve never seen them before.”
“What exactly did they say and do?”
“They forced their way in as soon as I answered the door. I didn’t expect it. I thought it was you.”
