“Please, don’t start. What are they saying?”
“The Carli dude says he needs to start cleaning up. There’s a guy he needs to go see by the name of Lorenzo Neri. Says he’ll take Papa Panaman home after they make a stop.”
Skip stood where he could watch the house over the roof of the car. “I’m surprised he doesn’t want to come out here and shoot me.”
“I get the impression this Carli guy only likes to do his thing when it’s a sure thing. You catch my drift?”
“Yeah, I understand. He’d want to have a few guys with him when he comes after me.”
“Roger that.” A moment later, he added, “Sounds like they’re getting ready to leave.”
Skip got into the car and drove away slowly. In his rearview mirror, he saw Bruno appear on the porch and peer up and down the street.
“Baldorf, what’s going on? Why is Bruno outside alone?”
“The argument got heated. It appears Papa Panaman is no longer in control. The Carli dude just told him to shut up and not get in the way. Don’t think you have to worry about those two joining forces.”
“I need to know what happens in that house.”
“No problem. I’m recording the audio.”
“You continue to amaze me, Baldorf.”
“I told you, bro. People, no comprende. Computers, I can do almost anything.”
Skip made a U-turn at the intersection, then pulled to the side of the road and turned off the headlights. “So you think this guy will be making a field trip? Should I hang out here?”
“No need to get too close, bro; I’ve already inserted a little program on the network and it’s propagating on the devices. I don’t have his phone yet, so stick close. For now, I can tell you when he leaves and what direction he goes.”
From this vantage point, Skip could see Mateo Carli’s house—far enough away to avoid notice, but close enough to react quickly. He’d just turned off the ignition when he heard Baldorf’s voice in his ear.
“Showtime, dude. Your guy just made a phone call. It lasted like thirty seconds.”
“Just long enough to ask if someone’s home or not.”
“All he did was get voicemail and hang up.”
Skip peered down the street. “I have headlights coming. So you know what they said in that call?”
“For sure. It was super weird. All he said was, ‘The man we talked about is with me. We’ll be there in five minutes.’ I have the number he called and the address.”
“Text it to me.”
“Will do. He should be coming your way. You think the man he’s talking about is Papa Panaman?”
“Unless Carli is a whole lot better at mind games than I believe he is, it has to be. The only other option I see is he suspects I’ll follow them and is setting up a trap.”
“Whoa. That’s Mission-Impossible level convoluted.”
“I realize it’s a huge stretch, but I don’t want to underestimate him.” Skip’s phone pinged. He checked the display. “So this is the address he called? A house on Clementine?”
“For sure. It’s like six blocks away.” A moment later, Baldorf muttered, “Awesome. Got a lock on the Italian dude’s phone.”
“What would I do without you, buddy?”
“Follow the wrong car?”
Skip recalled the debacle with Sonny. “Or lose them. So tell me, have you already mapped the route to the house?”
“Totally. What do you want to know?”
“Car coming.” Skip slumped down as the vehicle approached at an excruciatingly slow pace. As it passed, he got a good look at the driver. He sat up when the taillights appeared in his mirror. “It’s our guy. And he’s got Bruno with him. So what do you think he’s going to do? Turn left and cross Coast Highway?”
“That’s totally what he’ll do.”
Skip watched the other car make the predicted left. “Good job, as usual. I’ll follow at a distance.”
He turned the car around and sped toward the intersection where Carli had made his left. The car was two blocks ahead waiting for the streetlight to change.
“Baldorf, can you get me a parallel route to this house on Clementine? I’m stuck at another red light.”
“Dude, it’s only like three blocks ahead.”
“In that case, I’ll just wait for it to change.”
Skip watched Carli’s taillights get further away. When the car had gone a few blocks, it turned.
“Looks like he made that left on Clementine. Can you tell me who’s in that house?”
“Daniela Neri.”
The light turned green, Skip drove two blocks, then turned right. He went one block, turned left, then took another left on Clementine so he could approach from the opposite side of the street. He found a parking spot on the corner, from which he had a clear view of Bruno and Mateo Carli standing on the front porch of a small single-story home surrounded by a white picket fence.
“This is not looking good, Baldorf. The woman who answered the front door is looking very unhappy to see these two. Let me know what you can find out about her. Other than she must be related to Lorenzo.”
“It’s an old lady, right? What’s she look like?”
“She’s got gray hair. Stooped posture. And she’s shaking a broom at them.”
“The old lady’s the grandmother of Lorenzo. He’s an ex-con. Wow. This is totally like living in Little Italy. I haven’t heard so many Italian names since…”
“Baldorf! Just tell me what Lorenzo did.”
“Armed robbery. Twice. Dude’s on his third strike.”
“Looks like Daniela isn’t taking anything from Bruno or Mateo. She’s wielding that broom like a samurai. Bruno’s got his hands up and is backing away. Carli looked like he might take her on for a second, but he backed off when Bruno said something to him. Wait…what’s happening?”
Skip waited as the two men crossed the street to Carli’s vehicle and climbed in. A few seconds later, the car drove away.
“This is interesting. They left. Daniela Neri must be a tough old bird. She just drove off two grown men with a broom.”
“Dude, should I keep tracking Carli’s cell phone?”
“Yes. It’s just a precaution. If he decides to kill Bruno and dump the body in the middle of nowhere, at least we’ll know where nowhere is.”
“Got it. Tracking them via the GPS. Where they go, I know.”
“Tell you what, buddy, you deserve a break and a chance at a normal life. As soon as this is over, I’m dedicating myself to finding you a girlfriend.”
“I don’t know, bro. I’ve never been good with people of the female persuasion.”
“We’ll work on it. Now, let me know if those two go anywhere but Bruno’s home.”
“Are you going back to look for Roxy?”
“No. I’m going to check in with Daniela Neri. Maybe she’ll answer a few questions for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Roxy
LAUGHTER ERUPTED BEHIND me, then chairs scraped on the floor. Shrugging off the urge to shy away, I cast a casual glance over my shoulder. Four young men, looking as though they’d all had a bit too much to drink, were leaving. I turned back and looked directly at Jackie.
“Mind if I join your little pow wow?”
A drop of sweat trickled down my chest as I waited for his response. The corners of his mouth curled up when he nodded. “Sure, Angel. You want in, you’re in.” He glanced at the man with tattoos on my left and said, “Get the lady a chair.”
I shook my head. “No need. I’ve got it.” Turning around, I grabbed one of the vacated chairs and flipped it to mimic the others. Maybe these boys didn’t realize it, but girls could sit with their arms on a chair back, too.
The third man eyed me with raised eyebrows. Apparently, my little show of mirroring their behavior had surprised him. Drake appeared unimpressed, but made room by moving his chair to the side.
When he sat, his elbows nearly touched mine, and
he appeared unwilling to grant me additional space. Whatever standing I had in this group could only be maintained by staying strong so I ignored him. He must have become bored with rubbing elbows after a few seconds and moved further away.
While Jackie pretended to ignore our little group posturing exercises, the slant of his eyes and that slight smile gave him away. He’d noticed.
“So where’s this house, Lopez?” Jackie asked.
The tattooed man’s upper lip curled, and he shot a sideways glance at Drake. “We’re still working on that, boss. Me and Drake were talking, and we thought maybe we might need to do some convincing with this Neri guy.”
Jackie huffed, then looked around the table. “I don’t need nothing getting out of hand. Who is he?”
“His father was related to Mateo Carli.”
“Nephew, Lopez. His father was Carli’s nephew,” Drake said.
The man with the ponytail sniggered and eyed Drake. “Well, look at that. We got us a family relationship specialist.”
“Shut up, Espinoza. It’s called genealogy, and if you knew jack about it, you’d know it’s good for finding people.”
Espinoza grimaced, but didn’t offer a retort. I wondered if Drake knew it was also good for finding pressure points in cons. I’d already heard about Carli once tonight, and thanks to Espinoza’s ignorance, my reaction had gone unnoticed. I didn’t know how long I’d work with Jackie, so I wasn’t about to reveal what little I knew about Mateo Carli.
Drake turned sideways and looked at me. “Bet she knows what it is.”
“What?” I shot back. “You want a definition or something?”
Espinoza laughed. “See, Drake. She don’t know nothing about it.”
“Shut up, moron,” I snapped. “Genealogy is how you build a family tree. It tells you who’s related and who’s going to give you the most leverage when you need something.”
Jackie laughed, then eyed Espinoza. “Better watch out. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. Angel here, she’s a high-end con artist. She’s smarter than your whole family put together.”
I glared at Jackie. The last thing I wanted to do was make enemies. I did not need to be forced to watch my back while I was trying to save Lily. I winked at Espinoza. “Don’t worry, lot’s of people have never heard of genealogy.”
The comment didn’t seem to appease him. He was either oblivious to insults or too stupid to realize I’d tried to throw him a bone. Either way, he was doing an excellent job of grinding his teeth.
“So why’s Mateo Carli important?” I asked.
Drake angled his chair so he could look at me directly. He stroked his chin as his eyes scanned the room. When his gaze settled on mine, it was only momentarily. He returned to alert mode even as he spoke. “‘Cause he’s the link to the landlord who rented Panaman the house he’s using as a base.”
I sat up straight. “Which Panaman? Sonny or Bruno?”
Jackie waved a hand to silence Drake. “I told you, Angel, Bruno Panaman ain’t got no juice left. This is all on the kid.”
“That’s what you told me, but Sonny’s been out of jail for…what? A couple of weeks? He couldn’t pull off this kind of operation without help. Even if it’s just a contact, Bruno has to be involved somehow.”
“She’s got a point, boss.”
“This ain’t no corporate training session, Drake.” Jackie glared at him, and under the intense scrutiny, Drake shifted in his seat.
There was something Jackie was holding back, but what was it? “Look, Jackie. I don’t work under the mushroom philosophy. If there’s something about Bruno I should know, then let’s get it on the table.”
“Watch it, Angel. I been nice ‘cause Lil really likes you. But you ain’t got a free ride here.”
“If you want to feed me a bunch of BS about what a nice guy Bruno Panaman has turned into, I’ll just leave right now. I know he’s involved. I might not know exactly how that is yet, but I will find out, and then I’m going to make him pay dearly.”
Jackie studied me for a few seconds, then a smile formed on his lips. “You got guts, Angel. Overstepping like that.”
“I’ve never lived my life on the safe side, so why should I change my pattern when so much is on the line? Maybe I should just leave?”
I made a show of my irritation and stood, but Jackie shook his head. “All right. Have it your way.” He glanced across the table at Drake and signaled with an upward tilt of his chin.
“Sonny Panaman didn’t have the kinds of contacts he needed to pull this off. He needed a base to work from and some guys to help him. Word on the streets is that he tried asking around for guys who would work with him, but they laughed at him ‘cause nobody trusted him.”
Drake looked past me for a moment. His cheek twitched, but he returned his gaze to mine. “Somehow he got hooked up with Mateo Carli. He used to work for Old Man Panaman. Guy’s a tough SOB who’d rather die proud than snitch.”
“You figure Bruno gave Mateo Carli’s name to Sonny?”
“Looks that way,” Drake said.
“We don’t know nothing of the sort,” Jackie snapped.
“But boss…”
“There ain’t no buts about it. If the old man didn’t give Sonny that name, he got it from someone else and that’s another problem.” He stopped and stared at each of the three men. “I don’t want no loose ends on this. Understand?” A moment later, he turned his attention to me. “You in on this, Angel? Or not? If you got a problem, then you better leave right now.”
I swallowed hard. I’d never been asked if I was willing to kill someone. As much as I hated Bruno and Sonny, I wasn’t sure I could even pull the trigger unless they were armed. But this was for Lily, and I would not let her down.
There was only one thing I could do. I leveled my gaze at Jackie and said, “I’m in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Skip
SKIP KNOCKED ON the front door of the old woman’s house. There were three small pots with flowers in them. While he waited at the door, he wondered if he and Roxy might someday live in this kind of house—if perhaps they would have a few potted plants of their own.
The door inched open, and Skip smiled at the old woman as she peered through the crack between the door and the jamb. A chain lock secured the door from a forced entry.
Skip held up his wallet to show his private investigator’s identification. “Mrs. Neri?”
“I am she.” The woman’s voice creaked like a rusty nail being pulled from an old piece of wood.
“My name is Cosgrove. I’m an investigator looking into the disappearance of a girl name Lily Jamison. May I speak with you for a moment?”
The woman peered more closely at the ID. She had blue eyes and the wrinkle on her temples deepened as she studied the identification. “This says you are an associate, not an investigator.”
“That’s correct, Mrs. Neri. I’m the only one who was available to work this case. To be truthful, the missing girl—Lily—is my fiancé’s daughter.”
The woman’s head dipped up and down a few times. “So this is a personal matter. Why do you pass yourself off as an investigator?”
The old woman was sharp, he had to give her that. And while he’d told two half-truths already, he suspected he’d need to tell more before this interview was over—assuming there was an interview. Skip summoned a friendly smile.
“I wanted to make you feel more at ease. A strange man comes knocking on your door in the middle of the night…it only makes sense for you to be suspicious.”
“Your name was Cosgrove?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The old woman watched him, not saying a word, while keeping the tension on the chain and her fingers out of the crack so she could slam the door if she felt threatened.
“I’ve been following the two men who were just here—Mateo Carli and Bruno Panaman. I suspect Carli knows where Lily is being held.”
The old woman’s nose wrinkled and her f
acial muscles tightened. “Those two are no good. They cost me my son and have nearly taken my grandson. They both belong in jail for what they have done, but the law is crooked and they have bought their innocence.”
“If you help me, Mrs. Neri, it’s possible I may be able to tie them to this kidnapping.”
“Do not be so naïve, Mr. Cosgrove. Men like that, they do not pay for their crimes.” The old woman’s words dripped with venom as she spoke. “They have others who pay the price for them.”
“Was that your son, Mrs. Neri?”
“Yes. He was shot with a bullet intended for Bruno Panaman.”
Skip’s brow wrinkled as he peered closely at the door. Why hadn’t Baldorf picked that up? “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Neri. When did your son die?”
“October 10, 1985.”
“That was over thirty years ago.”
Mrs. Neri’s voice turned cold, and she shook her head. “Time is irrelevant when you have lost a loved one, Mr. Cosgrove.”
“You’re right, ma’am. I’m sorry. Do you suppose I might come in? It’s getting chilly out here. This dampness…”
Mrs. Neri grunted, then closed the door. The chain clacked against the lock and the door opened. The old woman stood to one side, her blue eyes bright and clear, but her jaw tight. In her right hand, she held an old revolver which she pointed at Skip’s chest.
“Come in.”
Skip raised his hands slowly. “That’s a Colt .45, Mrs. Neri. I hope you’re not planning to use it on me.”
“My husband taught me to shoot many years ago. I detest even touching a weapon, but I am a frail old woman who cannot otherwise protect herself.”
Skip gave her an uncertain smile. “I think you are neither frail, nor incapable of protecting yourself, Mrs. Neri. I saw how you wielded that broom with those two men.”
“Why have you come to my house?”
Though the old woman’s hands quivered with the weight of the gun, Skip had no doubt she had the strength to pull the trigger. “Mrs. Neri, I’m only looking for information. May I close the door?”
Shadows from the Past Page 11
