DEAD BY WEDNESDAY (16 page)

“I’m going to go check the back,” Robert said. He walked between the houses, which had been built so damn close together that if neighbors both leaned out their windows, they could pass the proverbial cup of sugar.

The back door was locked. Robert pounded on the door and waited a couple minutes. The night was quiet otherwise and he didn’t hear or see anything that gave him any indication that somebody was home.

Maybe Sparrow was at the grocery store or a movie?

Or maybe he was scouting for his next victim?

Robert circled back to Sawyer. “Let’s talk to some neighbors.”

The neighbor on the right was a woman in her sixties. In her living room, there was an ironing board and a treadmill, both set up in front of the flat-screen television. She was obviously a multitasker.

They did introductions. Olivia Borsk was her name, and she was a widow.

When they asked about Douglass Sparrow, she looked satisfied. It wasn’t the reaction they’d expected.

“It’s about time you got here,” she said.

“Time?” Robert asked.

“I’ve called three times. That’s twice more than I should have needed to.”

“What did you call about, Mrs. Borsk?” Sawyer asked.

“His sidewalk, for goodness’ sake. He never shovels it. Only house between here and the grocery store that doesn’t do what he’s supposed to. Forces me to walk out into the street and that’s wrong.”

Robert and Sawyer shared a look. “Have you ever spoken to Mr. Sparrow about your concerns?”

The woman huffed. “Two
s
s and two
r
s.”

“What?” Sawyer asked.

“Douglass Sparrow. Two
s
s and two
r
s. When he introduces himself, that’s what he says to everybody. Pompous ass.”

“Does Mr. Sparrow have much company?” Robert asked.

“No. But then again, he’s rarely here.”

“What do you mean?” Robert asked.

“What I mean is that the man is only here about half the time. I know because his car is old and loud and I have to turn up my television to hear the news when he pulls up. Maybe if he was here more often, he could do the sidewalk. Or maybe, if you people talked to him, he would do the sidewalk.”

You people.
Robert could not look at Sawyer. Otherwise, he would bust a gut and the woman would have a whole other reason to be calling the police department.

“Yes, of course,” Robert said. “What kind of car does Mr. Sparrow drive?”

“Black and noisy. Two doors. Mildred and Ben, his folks, bought it for him when he was in high school.”

“Does Mr. Sparrow work out of town? Is that why he’s gone?” Sawyer asked.

The woman shook her head. “I don’t even think he works. He inherited this house from his parents last year. The Sparrows died in a car accident, poor things. At least they went together. Anyway, they were always saying that he was going to be a famous musician someday. I felt sorry for them. They couldn’t even see the fact that their son was as odd as a three-dollar bill.”

“You don’t think he’s been successful as a musician?”

The woman shrugged. “He was bagging groceries at the supermarket down the street up until his parents’ deaths. That doesn’t seem all that successful to me.”

Robert stood up. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

They were halfway out the door when Mrs. Borsk called after them. “What about the sidewalk?”

“If we see Mr. Sparrow, we’ll make sure we mention it,” said Robert.

Once they were back in the car, Sawyer rubbed his hands together. “I think this could be our guy. The music fits. And lots of times, something sets these idiots off. Maybe that was his parents’ deaths? Maybe there wasn’t anybody left who believed in him? The only thing I don’t get is that he’s rarely home. Where the hell do you think he is?”

Robert shook his head as he pulled away from the curb. “That’s the weird part. Let’s figure out what he’s driving,” he said. He picked up his cell phone and when the call was answered, he gave them the pertinent details.

“I need information on a car owned by either Douglass Sparrow or Mildred or Ben Sparrow.” He rattled off the home address and hung up.

It didn’t take long for him to get a return call. Robert listened and nodded. “Okay, thanks. Put out a BOLO for that vehicle with instructions to not apprehend or approach. I just want to know where it is.”

Robert turned to Sawyer. “Black Mercury Cougar, 1995.”

Chapter Eighteen

They got a judge to order a search warrant for Douglass Sparrow’s home.

It didn’t take long to search. There was lots of old furniture that his parents had probably had for years. He had a few clothes in the closet and dresser drawers. Some toiletries in the bathroom and a jar each of mustard and pickle relish in his refrigerator.

“Sparrow must eat out all the time,” Robert said. He opened cupboards and found a few plates and two cups.

Sawyer stood in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “It’s almost as if...”

“He doesn’t really live here,” Robert said, finishing the sentence. “Which matches what Mrs. Borsk said that he’s hardly ever around.”

“So why do you keep a house but you don’t live in it?” Sawyer asked.

“Because where you’re really living is a secret,” Robert said.

“Gay?” Sawyer asked.

Robert shook his head. “Parents both dead. No high-profile job. Little risk if the secret gets out.”

“Into something illegal?” was Sawyer’s next guess.

Robert met his partner’s eyes. “Like luring young boys to your place and then killing them?”

“Bingo,” Sawyer said.

Robert rubbed his hand across his face. They were running out of time. “We need this guy’s bank account. Maybe he’s writing out rent checks. And his IRS records, too. Maybe there are earnings from another employer.”

“It’s late,” Sawyer said.

“Looks as if we’re going to have to get a few people out of bed,” Robert answered, already pulling out his phone.

* * *

W
HEN
C
ARMEN
GOT
up on Wednesday morning, she carefully opened Raoul’s bedroom door. He was still asleep. Had pushed off his covers at some point and he lay sprawled in the single bed, dressed in an old T-shirt and sweats.

He looked very young and vulnerable.

And he’d threatened to kill two people yesterday.

The two images were so jarringly different that it still made her head hurt.

Thank God Robert had been there. In his calm way, he’d been able to intervene and he had saved lives. He’d certainly given Raoul his life back.

Robert had wanted to ask her something but had said that he’d wait for a better time. What the heck?

Maybe he wanted her to go away with him? That day after the movie they’d had that ridiculous conversation about tropical vacations. Aruba? Bermuda? The Cayman Islands?

If he asked, would she go?

Could she leave Raoul?

Two weeks ago, she’d have said no. But now, she’d had a taste of living, a taste of feeling whole as she shattered in a man’s arms.

She’d had a taste of loving Robert. So if he asked, she’d make sure that Raoul was in Liz and Sawyer’s capable hands and she’d go.

She opened a cupboard and pulled coffee out. Got a pot started and walked back to the bathroom for her shower. By the time she’d finished and dried her hair, she could hear Raoul moving around in the apartment.

She got dressed, pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and put on a little makeup. She’d just finished with mascara when her phone rang.

It was Robert. She smiled at herself in the mirror.

“Hi,” she said.

“Good morning,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay.”

She’d been taking care of herself and Raoul for a long time. Had been pretty proud of that fact. Was it wrong that it felt so good to finally have someone who cared about them, maybe even worried about them? “We’re fine,” she said. “Uneventful night. Mrs. Minelli should be here any minute.”

“Look, I wish I knew what the day was going to bring. Maybe we could catch a late dinner together?”

He sounded wistful. And tired. “Did you work late?” she asked.

“All night,” he admitted. “I caught a catnap this morning in my chair.”

“Oh, Robert.” If anyone thought police work was glamorous, they didn’t understand it.

“We’re getting close,” he said. “Can’t say much more than that but I think we’re on the right track.”

“Good luck,” she said.

“Just be careful today, Carmen. Frank Sage is a wild card. We can’t prove that he messed with your brakes but my gut tells me that he’s a bad guy. I’ve got somebody keeping an eye on him, and he’s already been to his coffee shop and he’s on his way to work. I think you’ll be okay.”

She felt very warm inside. Robert Hanson was watching out for her.

“Call me later,” she said. “Even if it’s really late.”

She heard his breath catch and it made her feel pretty powerful. “I will.”

By the time she got to the kitchen, Raoul was at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him.

But he wasn’t eating. He was just staring at his hands, which were cupped around his bowl.

“Morning,” she said. She poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” he answered.

He looked tired, and she suspected that he hadn’t slept well. Was he worried about school? About the two boys who were no doubt going to be there that morning?

“I don’t think those boys will bother you,” she said. “Remember what Robert said?”

Raoul nodded. “I’m not worried about that.”

But he was clearly worried about something. She sat down at the table and sipped her coffee. After about two minutes, Raoul looked up from his cupped hands.

“I wasn’t honest with you last night,” he said. “You were great about everything and I couldn’t even tell you the truth.”

Her heart sped up. There was more?

“Then maybe you better take another stab at it,” she said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she was.

He looked her in the eyes. “I didn’t pay somebody twenty dollars for the gun,” he said. “Someone gave it to me.”

“Who?”

“This guy. He’s about your age, I guess. He says his name is Apollo. He was a friend of Hector’s.”

Hector’s. She felt her heart start to beat even faster. All of Hector’s friends had been bad news. She’d known many of them because he was just two years older. She’d never heard of anyone named Apollo.

“How long have you known this man?”

“Not long. He said that Hector had asked him to watch out for me. He wanted me to have Hector’s gun.”

Hector had had a gun. She’d seen it in the waistband of his shorts just days before he’d died. The people he hung with all had guns. But Hector’s had been recovered from his body, confiscated by the police.

Was it possible that he’d had another gun?

Perhaps. But after all these years for it to surface with some lame story about Hector asking for his baby brother to be watched over seemed preposterous.

No way.

“Apollo said that he met you a couple times. He knew your name.”

He was going to know more than her name by the time she got through with him. What kind of trash gave a gun to a fifteen-year-old?

“There’s something else,” he said. He looked even more miserable. “You’re going to be so mad at me.”

He was scaring her. “I may be angry,” she admitted. “But you need to tell me everything or I can’t help.”

“The other night, I used the gun to shoot out some windshields at a used car place. Speedy’s. I’m not exactly sure how many cars.”

Her heart sank. Shooting out car windows.

He’d committed a crime. Her brother was a criminal. “When? How?”

“On Sunday night. I snuck out while you and Alexa were busy in the kitchen. I met Apollo there. He wanted to teach me how to shoot.”

She was going to rip this guy’s head off.

“We’re going to have to tell the police,” she said. The idea of Raoul having a police record made her want to throw up, but they had to do what was right.

“I think they know,” Raoul said, tears in his eyes. “At least I think Robert does.”

What? How could that be? “Why would you think that?”

“He’s asked me about it a couple times.”

Robert had reason to believe that her brother had a gun and had used that gun to commit a crime and yet he’d said nothing. She felt sick and hollow and terribly betrayed.

He knew that Raoul was her life.

She was such an idiot. She’d gotten blinded by the attention and she’d lost track of what was important.

Raoul. He was important. And he’d gotten himself into a bunch of trouble.

And now he needed her help.

“Do you know how to contact Apollo?” she asked.

“I’m supposed to meet him at eight o’clock this morning, outside my school.”

“I’m going with you,” she said. She got up and carefully pushed her chair in. Her bones felt very brittle. “I don’t believe that he was a friend of Hector’s. He certainly wasn’t looking out for you when he gave you a gun so that you could vandalize someone’s property. What you did was wrong,” she said.

“I know. It’s all I can think about. I’m so sorry, Carmen.”

She could forgive Raoul. He was a teenager who had gotten caught up in something that was bigger than him. It was harder to forgive Robert. He was an adult and he hadn’t been honest with her.

“What about Mrs. Minelli?” Raoul asked. “She’s driving this morning.”

“I’ll call her,” Carmen said. “I’ll let her know that I’m taking you to school. Once I tell Apollo that he is never to contact you again, then we’re going to the police. You’re going to tell them everything. There’s going to be consequences to your actions, Raoul. You understand that, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I just want this to be over with.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Finish getting ready,” she added, as she walked back to her bedroom. Once inside the door, she pressed her hands to her eyes.

She would not cry. She would not.

She and Raoul would get through this.

The same way they’d gotten through everything else. Together.

She picked up her cell phone, which she always kept on her nightstand during the night. She punched in Robert’s number. She was relieved when it went right to voice mail.

“It’s Carmen,” she said. “You...you should have told me, Robert. You should have told me about Speedy’s and your suspicions about Raoul. I deserved to know that my brother had a gun. I deserved the truth from you.” She took a big breath. “Don’t call me again.”

* * *

W
HEN
THE
CAB
pulled to the corner, Carmen tossed a ten at the driver and opened her door. The cab had been late picking them up, plus they’d hit some slow traffic. She’d been impatient to get here, to meet the man who claimed to be Hector’s friend who had lured her fifteen-year-old brother into being a criminal.

She wrapped her scarf tight around her neck. Raoul slid out of the cab and slammed the door shut. “Do you see him?” Carmen asked. The sidewalk was heavy with human traffic, people all bundled up, walking with their heads down to avoid the wind.

She looked at her watch. Seven minutes after eight. He should be here.

For the first time, Carmen got nervous. It was broad daylight and there were lots of people around but still her gut was telling her that something was wrong. She heard Raoul’s cell phone buzz. He pulled it out. It was a text.

“It’s him,” he said.

“He has your cell phone number?” she asked. Then she waved her hand. “Never mind. That’s not important. What does it say?”

“Be there soon.”

They weren’t waiting. They were going to the police and telling them everything. Then they could find Apollo and deal with him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Damn, she wished she had her car. There were no cabs. She walked toward Mahoney High, feeling that she’d be safe there.

They’d walked less than thirty feet before a man emerged from the bushes that lined the street. He fell into step next to them. They were three abreast on the wide sidewalk, her, then Raoul, then the man. She pulled on Raoul’s sleeve, wanting to get him away from the man.

“Not so fast, pretty sister,” he said.

She stopped and looked at the man. He had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. His skin was very pale. She did not recognize him. If he’d been a friend of Hector’s, he was one that she’d never met.

He was probably five-eight and a hundred and sixty pounds. Not an overly big guy. But she realized that didn’t matter when she saw that he had a very deadly looking gun in his hand and it was pointed at Raoul.

“We want nothing to do with you,” she said, hating that her voice was shaking. “You just go your way and we’ll go ours and we’ll forget that we ever saw each other.”

“And spoil the fun?” he asked. “I don’t think so. You’re an unexpected complication but certainly not one that I can’t deal with.” He motioned with his index finger. “Step through the bushes. There’s a black car. Get in the driver’s side. If you make one wrong move, you’re going to have another dead brother.”

It was crazy. There were people on the sidewalks, on both sides of the street. Mostly kids. Some adults. But nobody was paying attention to them. They were just hurrying to school or to work.

She looked in the man’s eyes. They were completely devoid of emotion. She wanted to refuse, to tell him to go to hell.

Raoul could be dead before she finished her sentence.

She turned and started walking, and she could hear Raoul and the man behind her.