Deadly Dreams (41 page)

A pious expression crossed the woman’s face. “Well, it was my Christian duty to raise my sister’s boy, so I did my best. No matter that we didn’t get a dime to take him in, either. Tory certainly didn’t leave anything behind when she died. But things didn’t work out. My husband hurt his back and was on disability. He and Sammy never did get on together. And he was just all the time causing problems with my own two kids. Things got tight and we had to give him over to Social Services. They treated him right,” she hastened to say. “They got families who take kids like that, with nowhere else to go.”

It was impossible not to feel a tug of sympathy for a long ago young boy who lost everything in a few short years. The man who’d taken an interest in him. His mother. And the only other living relatives he had.

“Do you have an address for Sammy now? Know where we can find him?”

“He’s in Bethany Alliance Cemetery, buried right next to his mother. We didn’t have the money for a proper stone, but there’s a marker on his grave. We did right by the boy in death, even though he never had much use for us after he was grown.”

Risa’s heart dropped to the vicinity of her stomach. “Sammy Baltes is dead?”

The woman nodded, and if she felt a shred of sorrow over the thought, it didn’t show in her expression. “Car crash three years ago. And I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but that boy was headed for a bad end, in any case. There was a slyness about that one. You ask me, he didn’t care a bit about anyone but himself.”

“So you identified the body?” Nate asked.

She lifted one bony shoulder. “I identified the car. It was registered to him. Wasn’t much I could do with the body. The car rolled several times before bursting into flames. What was left of Sammy was burnt to a crisp.”

Johnny waited for Hans to speak. And the longer the silence stretched, the uneasier he got. “You don’t have to worry,” he repeated as the older man stared at the untouched beer sitting in front of him. “I could tell from the questions that the task force is running in circles. They don’t have anything solid to tie me to the others. And, of course, they know nothing about you and Juan.” He thought that was worth mentioning. Johnny wasn’t the type to rat out the other members of the group. Hans should trust him on that.

But when the other man shifted his gaze from the bottle to him, trust wasn’t exactly the emotion Johnny read on his face. “You leavin’ anything out of the story, Johnny?”

“I told you every question they asked. Couple amateurs, which means we’re going to have to nail this cocksucker ourselves. McGuire couldn’t lead a bunch of Girl Scouts in a pissing contest, much less a task force.”

“He led the task force to
you
.” Deliberately the man picked up his beer. Drank.

Irate now, Johnny growled, “That was Giovanni’s fault. I just read the best way to deal with the situation and did damage control. I’m in front of this thing. I expected a little more support.”

“I’m sure you did.” There wasn’t a hint of friendliness in the other man’s gaze. “I’ll bet Jonas did, too.”

Shock kept him silent. Hans smiled. A chilling stretch of the lips. “I’ve been around long enough to have friends in lots of different districts. I hear things. Blew himself away with his own gun, but maybe you were there, too, huh? Convinced him to do it? What was the bullet in his chest for, insurance? You were afraid they might be able to pack his brains back together again?”

“That’s not the way it happened.” He couldn’t believe this. Hans never looked at him that way. Talked to him that way. He’d brought Johnny into the group. Groomed him for the position. “I just went over there to talk to him. Iron things out between us. He pulled out a gun and what was I supposed to do? I thought the motherfucker was going to kill me, so of course I drew on him. I didn’t figure he was going to blow his own brains out.” He pulled the folded-up sheets that he’d taken from Jonas’s home out of his pocket. Smoothed them out for Hans to read. “Look at this, he was going to fucking rat us all out. Take the easy way out for himself and leave us holding the bag. I didn’t go over there planning any of this, but I damned sure took care of it. The way I’ve always taken care of problems.”

“Yes.” For a moment Johnny thought finally Hans was seeing sense. Until he went on. “Exactly the way you’ve always taken care of problems. Use an elephant gun to kill a mosquito, that’s your fuckin’ motto.”

Johnny snatched up the papers, crumpled them in his fist. “Fuck you. Fuck you.” He was nearly trembling with rage. “Don’t you think the motherfucking Cop Killer would love this? To see us turning on each other? You gonna let that cocksucker win?”

Picking up the bottle, Hans took a long drink. Set it down and looked at it contemplatively. “No,” he finally said. “That’s not what I’m gonna do. But right now we have to be smart. There’s too much attention so we have to stop our outside business practices. As of now.”

Johnny’s jaw dropped. But he wasn’t given a chance to object. “How do you know you weren’t followed here? McGuire could have put a tail on you. That pulls me into things, you get that, right?” Hans shook his head. “It’s over. For all of us. We pull away from our associates. Cut all ties. With each other, too. The three of us.” He looked at Johnny and added, not unkindly, “They’re looking at you so you’re poison for me and Juan. Maybe it’s not fair, but that’s the hand we’re dealt. Don’t contact me again. Don’t contact either of us.”

He slid out of the bench seat of the booth. Turned and shuffled toward the back door. Johnny watched him in disbelief. Hans would come back. He never left a partial beer behind. He’d never leave Johnny behind.

But as the door closed after the man, and five minutes stretched into ten, Johnny was forced to admit Hans had done just that.

And for the first time, he felt totally alone.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a broken record.” Nate pulled into Jerry Muller’s driveway and tried to avoid looking at the charred structure on the other side of it. “I didn’t mind taking you to the hospital. It was closer to Williams’s place than it would have been for you to return to the station house for your car.”

“And this place is across the city from the hospital, and even farther from my vehicle.”

He aimed a level stare at her. “The last time I watched you drive away, you barely managed to make it out of a burning house alive. Consider me extra security.”

Because he was fairly certain he didn’t want to hear any response she would make to that, he got out of the car and headed for the side door of the house.

But it was impossible for him to wait for her there and not sneak a look at the home that could have been her coffin.

He’d have to walk all around the structure to get a clearer picture of the damage, but what he could see from here was enough to have his chest hollowing out.

The side facing them would have held the bedrooms. And the fire had gutted the area. The outside wall was all but destroyed. Parts of the roof had caved in. And the thought that Risa could have been caught in that . . . unaware of what lay in wait until the smoke had already ensured that she’d never regain consciousness . . . A muscle clenched in his jaw as his mind skirted the thought.

She joined him on the step and followed the direction of his gaze. And he thought he saw a hint of nerves in her expression when she looked at him. “Sometimes you don’t question luck. You just accept it.”

“And sometimes,” he said grimly, as he reached out to rap at the door, “luck runs out. Which is why you’re not by yourself tonight.”

The door was opened then and Nate blinked, his attention diverted by the guy in the doorway.

Stocky, about five-eight, the man’s receding hairline was in no danger of being duplicated anywhere else on his body. His tropical print shirt was open to his navel, and the gold chains he wore were half hidden in the thicket of fur that covered his chest. He bore the slightest resemblance to an ewok of Star Wars fame. Nate slid a sideways glance to Risa. She’d let her mother stay
here
?

“Risa! Come in, your mom is just watching TV. I hope you changed your mind about staying here, too. You can have my room and I’ll take the couch. I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

Nate smiled grimly as he stepped through the doorway after her. Yeah, he’d bet this Muller guy would be all over that idea. Which was just another reason he was glad he’d come along.

The house was small and hadn’t been updated in half a century. From what he’d seen through the open doorway the first day he’d been sent to collect Risa, the layout was very similar to her mother’s home. Or former home.

Hannah Blanchette was ensconced in an easy chair watching what appeared to be a Christian broadcast of some sort. She smiled in their direction but didn’t get up. Nate tried, and failed, to find any resemblance to Risa in her face.

“I’m fine,” the woman was saying in response to her daughter’s query. “Can’t seem to stop myself from dozing off every hour or so, but other than that, I feel all right.” Her voice sounded raw, even worse than Risa’s raspy tones today. “You should be resting, too, not running off to do heaven knows what.”

Risa bent down to brush a kiss over her mother’s cheek. “I’m fine, too. This is Nate McGuire, a PPD detective I’m working with.”

Hannah offered her hand and Nate crossed the room to take it. “Ms. Blanchette. I’m glad to see you doing so well after your ordeal.”

The older woman seemed flustered. “Well, I owe that all to Jerry, here. He saved my life. He’s a genuine hero.”

The man beamed a smile, but Nate noted it was aimed as much at Risa as toward the other woman. “I even got an idea for a future film from the rescue. It’s all material, right?”

“Risa, Jerry mentioned having you appear in it.” Hannah appeared to be tiring. “I told him that wouldn’t be your cup of tea. You never did like being in the limelight.”

An odd observation, Nate thought, given the fact that Risa must have garnered a lot of attention from her college basketball days. But he was distracted by the information on Muller. Slanting him a glance, he said, “You’re in the film industry?”

The other man shrugged modestly. “Most is straight to video, but I do okay.” He nodded toward a shelving unit next to the TV. “I sent Mom a couple of my awards to keep for me. She got a kick out of them.”

“I had no idea you were so accomplished,” Risa was saying as Nate moved closer to examine the awards. Cut glass atop a brass footing, the name of the award was etched, along with Muller’s name and the title of the film. He stopped. Squinted harder. Then turned and pinned the other man with a look.

“A Peavy?”

“Actually I’ve won four. In recognition of cutting-edge industry excellence.”

“Uh-huh.” He was joined by Risa then. He slanted a glance at her. “You should get more detail from Jerry about possibly starring in one of his films. It could be the beginning of a promising new career for you.” She made a deprecating sound in response, before the cell in his pocket vibrated. Excusing himself, he stepped into the kitchen to take it. And the ensuing brief conversation with Morales had his earlier humor vanishing abruptly.

He reentered the living room to hear Risa saying, “I talked to the insurance company after I dropped you off. There’s a stipend available for temporary housing so you don’t have to rely on Jerry’s hospitality indefinitely.”

“I don’t mind a bit . . .” the man started.

“Jerry and I have already talked about it. He’ll be flying back to California in the next couple weeks.” The older woman stopped for a drink from the water glass on the table next to her. “He’ll rent Eleanor’s place to me for as long as I need it.” She aimed a hopeful look at her daughter. “He’s going to list it for sale. Maybe we could buy it with the insurance money. I feel as at home here in Eleanor’s house as I did in my own.”

“The policy only pays if you rebuild on the same property,” Risa began, before catching sight of Nate in the doorway. Something must have shown on his face because she crossed the room to her mother’s chair. “But I’ll call the agent again, see if there’s any wiggle room.” She bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Get some sleep. I’ll check in again tomorrow.”