Loyalty (19 page)

Fina pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her bag and snapped them on his wrists behind him. Then she pushed him back into the recliner, where he settled with a grunt.

“At least you’re not chatty. That’s something.” She walked over to the TV and pushed off the power button.

“Well, I’m here. What do you want?” she asked.

“I don’t want anything.” He looked at the floor. “I don’t know who the fuck you are.”

“Really? You’ve been following me. Ran me off the road. If you want a date, there are easier ways to ask.”

“I don’t have nothing to do with you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Fina stood in front of him. She studied him. “I don’t think you jumped me at the supermarket. You’re a little too short.”

He didn’t say anything, but stared at her.

“Let’s make this simple. You tell me who your boss is, and I leave you alone.”

“I don’t know anything, and even if I did, I was just following orders.”

“Joe, Joe, Joe. The Nuremberg defense didn’t work then, and it won’t work now. Who hired you?”

Joe squirmed in his seat. “These are killing me. Maybe you could take ’em off and we could talk.”

“Stop being such a pussy,” Fina said. She wandered around the room without taking the gun off Joe.

A table pushed against one of the walls held paper wrappings from a sub. A bag of barbecue potato chips was nearly empty. DVDs were stacked in piles on the floor in front of the TV, and two cardboard boxes held books and some sports paraphernalia. Next to the only other chair in the room, a small box held a stuffed animal—a purple elephant—and a few kids’ books.

Joe followed her gaze to the elephant. He had started to sweat. “I can’t tell you anything. I’ll be in deep shit.”

“I know I seem really nice, but I’m not, and you definitely should have figured out that I’m resourceful. You can be afraid of your boss or afraid of me. Your choice.” Fina nudged the small box with her toe. “Who’s the elephant belong to?”

Joe’s face tightened.

“Your kid?”

“Leave her out of this.”

“I’d love to.” Fina picked up the stuffed animal and stroked its ear. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to give you some time to think about the situation, and I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, if you try to hurt me again . . .” She looked at the stuffed animal. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

Fina dropped the elephant back into the box, pulled the handcuff key out of her bag, and went over to the window. She showed him the key, leaned out, and tossed it into the neighbor’s shrubs. Joe growled.

“That should keep you busy.” She walked toward the hallway. “I’m going to hold on to your gun. Think about what I said, Joe. I just want everyone to be safe and sound.”

Fina grabbed her shopping bag and slipped her hand into her purse, gun firmly gripped. Outside, she casually walked to her car, got in, and pulled out of the lot. Her hands were sweaty on the wheel.

This case was bringing out the worst in everyone.

“This phone call better get you off my ass,” Dante said. The music in the background was so loud, Fina could barely hear him.

“It’s a start.”

“Your friend Brianna is here.”

“Oh, good.” She started to hang up the phone.

“And there’s someone else you might be interested in seeing.”

Fina let up on the gas. “Who?”

“You’ll see when you get here.” He hung up.

Fina ditched her plan to go home and change. A mystery guest couldn’t be good, and she didn’t want to waste any time. She’d take her chances looking like an overage, under-made-up Goth and try to get into Crystal on the sheer force of her personality.

She paid too much to leave the car in a lot a few blocks down from the club, locked Joe’s gun in the trunk, and then argued with the bouncer for a couple of minutes. He had trouble believing she was a friend of Dante’s, probably because her parts weren’t on display, and she looked like a boxer who’d gone a couple rounds. Luckily, some chump waiting in line decided to start a fight, and Fina snuck in while the bouncers were distracted.

Upstairs, Dante was ensconced in his usual booth, and he motioned for the bouncer to grant Fina access. He pointed toward a corner table where Brianna and a man were sitting close and whispering. Fina scanned the room, but didn’t see anyone she recognized. She’d deal with Brianna first, then the mystery guest.

“I need to borrow your girlfriend for a few minutes,” Fina said, pulling a chair over from an empty table. Brianna was wearing a tight red dress that barely covered the good family china. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and her lips were painted deep red.

The man looked askance. Brianna looked blank, and then recognition flooded her face.

“You need to leave,” she whispered at Fina.

“I just need to talk to you for a few minutes. Promise.”

The man glanced at Brianna and straightened up in his seat. He was in his thirties, extremely thin and tall. He was exactly the kind of man Fina wasn’t attracted to; one of her rules was that her date had to have a bigger ass than she did.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he ventured, “but Brianna’s not available right now. We’re on a date.”

“Oh, I know you are,” Fina said.

“So perhaps you could call Brianna later and discuss whatever it is that’s so important.”

Brianna glanced at the man with a mixture of appreciation and pity.

He cleared his throat. “Do you have a card?” he asked.

“Listen, junior, I’m not trying to ruin your night,” Fina said as she grabbed a card from her bag and threw it on the table. “I need to talk—”

“You’ve got bigger problems,” Brianna interjected. Fina followed her gaze to the bar and saw a man struggling with a girl. He was holding her by the wrists, and she was trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

Fina crossed the room in two seconds. She kneed the man in the balls. “Get your fucking hands off her!”

The man doubled over, and bouncers materialized from nowhere. Fina grabbed Haley and put her arm around her. She started to pull her out of the VIP area.

“I don’t wanna go! What . . . fuck . . . I don’t . . .” Haley’s eyelids opened and closed slowly, like her blink function was on delay.

“I don’t think she wants to leave with you.” A huge, bald bouncer stood in front of Fina.

“You sure about that? I’m her aunt, she’s underage, and I have a gun,” Fina said. He stepped aside, and she dragged Haley down the stairs and out the front door. Walking to the car was like walking with a toddler; Haley was both easily distracted and obstinate.

In the car, Fina rummaged around in the backseat and found a bottle of water. She forced Haley to drink some.

“How much did you drink?”

Haley mumbled.

“Haley, how much?” Fina nudged her shoulder.

“I don’t know, all right! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Are you going to throw up?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

“No, you’re not sure, or no, you’re not going to throw up?”

Haley turned her head and looked at Fina. “What was the question?”

Fina got out and popped open the trunk. She emptied the contents of her decoy shopping bag and walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.

“If you think you’re going to—” She jumped out of the way.

Haley puked onto the concrete. Fina got some paper towels from the trunk and doused them with water. She wiped Haley’s mouth and gave her a clean towel to apply to her forehead. Haley took a sip of water and rinsed out her mouth.

“As I was saying: If you think you’re going to throw up, use this bag,” Fina said, and handed her the bag. She helped Haley rotate in the seat and buckled her in before closing the passenger door.

Fina sprinted across the parking lot and dumped the soiled paper towels in a trash can. She ran back and started the car. It was hot still, but she rolled down the windows anyway in the hope that fresh air would help revive her niece. Haley leaned her head against the door frame, and they were both silent as Fina merged onto the Pike.

Fina kept her eyes on the road and tried to clear her mind of everything but getting Haley home safely. She was watching the lights of the car in front of her when a motion jumped into her peripheral vision. Haley’s body was heaving, her head dipped down toward her chest. At first, there was no sound, but then a sob escaped her mouth that was so loud and guttural, it startled Fina.

“Oh, Haley,” she said, and she veered sharply to the right to exit the highway. She pulled over just off the exit ramp and put the car in park. Fina undid her seat belt and put her arms around her niece.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Fina said, and Haley released her weight onto Fina, shaking and gasping. Fina stroked her hair and her back.

There was a lump in Fina’s throat, but sadness wasn’t its primary source.

It was anger that was making it hard for her to swallow.

Overwhelming, red-hot anger.

Haley needed her mom, but since that wasn’t a possibility, Fina opted for the next best thing. Once Haley had cried herself into an exhausted, limp mess, Fina got back on the road and drove to Scotty and Patty’s place. Most of the house was cloaked in darkness when they pulled up to the curb, but the path lights illuminated their slow progress up the front stone walkway. Fina rang the bell and gave Scotty a warning look when he answered the door:
Act normal,
it said.

“Is Patty still up?” Fina asked as Scotty took hold of Haley’s other arm.

“Yeah. Let’s go upstairs.”

There was always room in Scotty and Patty’s house, and the use of it came without strings attached, unlike a stay at Elaine’s. Patty was the best kind of hostess—hospitable, but not nosy. She knew that sometimes support and space were required in equal measures.

Fina and Scotty left Haley and Patty in the guest bathroom and went downstairs to Scotty’s home office. Unlike the gentlemen’s club feel of Rand’s office or Carl’s contemporary showpiece, Scotty’s home office seemed real, not staged. He had a curved desk, one segment of which was cluttered with papers and file folders, the other, a staging ground for a LEGO Star Wars battle. Kids’ books were scattered in front of the couch, and a small heap of Transformers robots were entangled on the coffee table. Fina sat down on the couch. She felt a lump under her butt and reached under to pull out a piece of fabric approximately the size of a hand towel. It was faded blue and pilly.

“What is this?” she asked as she held it between two fingers.

“Bubby! We looked everywhere for it. Ryan will be so happy.” Scotty held out his hand and grabbed the blankie from Fina.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t disparage the Bubby. This smelly rag is more powerful than you can imagine.”

“That’s why I brought Haley over here. You guys understand this whole parenting thing.”

“And Rand doesn’t?” Scotty asked. He sat down next to Fina and put his feet up on the coffee table after nudging the Transformers to the side.

“I know it sounds sexist, but she needed a mom.”

“Don’t we all.” Scotty pulled a small robot from between the cushions and began fiddling with it. “Where did you find her?”

“At Crystal. That club near Fenway. I think she’s in some deep shit.”

Scotty shrugged. “She got drunk. She’s a teenager. It’s gonna happen.”

“I don’t mean standard teenage shit. I mean deep shit.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.” She rested her feet on the edge of the coffee table. “There’s a name you should know: Joe Winthrop.”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s the one who’s been trying to kill me. Do you have a piece of paper?”

Scotty put the robot on the arm of the couch and grabbed paper and a pen from his desk. He handed it to Fina.

“Here’s his name and address. Frank knows about him. I visited him tonight and put the squeeze on him. I’m trying to figure out who hired him.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I just want you to know about him.”

“In case . . .”

“Just in case.”

Scotty’s face pinched with worry. Fina’s phone rang.

“It’s Dad,” she told Scotty as she answered. “I was just about to call you,” she said into the phone. “I found Haley.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s drunk and upset, but Patty’s taking care of her. Will you tell Rand we found her?”

“I’ll let him know.”

“I need to hire some backup, Dad.”

“For what?”

Fina sighed. “Can you just . . . I’m exhausted.”

“Then come in tomorrow and make your case. Anytime after eleven. The DA is having a press conference then. They’re going to identify Melanie.”

“And Rand? What’s the deal with the police?”

“Dudley says it could go either way.” Ice tinkled in a glass. “Your mother’s working on the funeral.”

“When’s it going to be?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

There was a long silence. Fina could hear Carl breathing.

“You don’t have anything for me?” he finally asked.

“Yes, I do. That’s why I need more resources. Dealing with Rand’s extracurricular activities is just one more thing on my to-do list.” Scotty’s eyebrow arched. “I’m making progress, but I can’t do everything myself.”

“You always want more money,” Carl grumbled.

“Yeah, well, it helps solve cases. Name one case I’ve screwed up.”

“Let me know when you have something,” Carl said, and disconnected.

Fina pushed the off button and dropped the phone into her bag.

“Couldn’t come up with a case, could he?” Scotty said.

“Of course not, so he took his ball and went home.”

“What’s up with Rand?”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but he’s been screwing around on the side.”

“He has a mistress?” Scotty asked.

Fina looked at him. “A hooker.”

Scotty shook his head. “You’d think that at some point, he’d stop fucking up.”

“Why would he? He always gets bailed out. By us.”

“I know,” he conceded. “One of these days, we’ve got to do something about this ‘us.’”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Fina took her feet off the table edge and stretched her arms to the ceiling. “I’ve gotta go. You’ll keep an eye on Haley?”

“We’ll do our best.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Fina said, standing up.

Once in the car, she rolled down all the windows to try to dissipate the booze and barf aroma. At home, she dropped her clothes on the floor, took a long shower, and curled up in bed. The prospect of a new day wasn’t reassuring.

Fina got up early and transformed into Amy Myers. She wore a different blouse and jewelry from last time, but the other elements were the same: tasteful makeup, heels, and bag, hair pulled back in a bun. Her bruises were fading, and she looked more like a businesswoman than a victim of domestic abuse, which was always a bonus when trying to convey power and confidence. Three peanut butter cookies and a can of diet soda served as breakfast, and Fina pulled into the parking lot of Mode Accessories a few minutes after nine.

The receptionist gave her the same lackluster greeting and disappeared behind the gray, felted partition to fetch Donald Seymour.

“He’s on the phone. He might be a while,” Fina was told when she reappeared.

“I’m happy to wait. I really need to speak with him in person,” she said with a bright smile.

The receptionist disappeared again, returned after a few minutes, and gestured toward the plastic seats in front of her desk. Fina sat and picked up a copy of
Accessories Today
, a quarterly publication for the women’s accessories industry. She tried to appear fascinated for the sake of her cover, but the minutia of zippers was enough to put her in a coma.

“Miss Myers?” Donald Seymour asked when he appeared twenty minutes later. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No problem. Just catching up on industry news,” Fina said, and she followed him back to the break room. “I’m sorry I didn’t call before dropping by.”

“Coffee?” Donald asked. Fina shook her head. She sat down while Donald poured himself a cup.

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d follow up on our conversation.”

“No need to apologize. Sure you don’t want any coffee?”

Fina held her hand up. “Just gets me overheated in this weather. Water would be great, though.”

Donald filled a plastic cup and handed it to her before squeezing into the seat next to her, their knees grazing. He sipped his coffee and sat back with his hands on his stomach. “Your bruises look better.”

Fina sighed. “I suppose I don’t look quite as ugly as before.”

“You could never look ugly,” Donald said, and looked down at the table.

“You’re so sweet, and I’m sure you’re swamped, so let’s talk turkey, shall we?” Fina tried to conjure up a perky smile. “I wondered if you’d had any luck setting up a meeting with the owner. My clients are anxious to move forward.”

Donald frowned. “I understand that, and I appreciate their due diligence. However, there is a tiny problem.”

Fina frowned. “Oh no. Really?”

“Our owner has been traveling all over the world—that’s how we get the best inventory, you know—and he just isn’t available to meet.”

Fina frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But that should reassure your client. If the business weren’t a success, he wouldn’t be on the road so much.”

“I suppose. But surely, someone is running the company in his absence.”

“Of course,” Donald replied with a touch of impatience.

Fina sipped her water. “Sooo . . . maybe I could meet with that person. The one who’s in charge?”

Donald shifted in his chair. “Well, I’ve spoken with our acting president, and she’d like some more information about your client before scheduling a meeting.”

“Hmmm.” Fina let her shoulders sag.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

Poor Donald probably didn’t know what was really going on at the company. He was just trying to make a living selling baguette bags and found himself in a pickle. If he wasted his boss’s time he was in trouble, and if he lost a potentially lucrative account he was in trouble. Fina wasn’t unsympathetic, but she couldn’t waste any more of her time.

“I see that you’re in a terrible spot, Donald, but I sincerely doubt that my client would be willing to reveal more at this point. The fact is, lots of companies would love to do business with him.” Fina smiled. “It probably makes sense for us to move on. We gave it our best shot, though, didn’t we?”

“Well, wait. There has to be something we can do.”

Fina picked up her purse and pretended to fiddle with her phone. “Donald, it’s okay.” She patted his hand. “It’s just business. Sometimes things don’t work out, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have common interests in the future.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt down. “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.”

Donald looked flustered and stood rooted to the spot. When Fina stepped forward, he rushed ahead to open the door leading back to the office. Fina strode to the entrance and pulled an Amy Myers business card out of her wallet. She handed it to Donald. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Wait. Let me give you mine. In case you’re in the neighborhood. We could grab lunch.” He pulled a card out of his wallet and smiled shyly. The poor guy thought romance was an actual possibility. Some people really do see the glass half-full.

“Give me a call if something changes,” he said as he handed Fina the card.

“You, too.” They shook hands, and Fina pushed the glass door open and walked to her car.

Inside, with the air on high and her heels slipped off, Fina rested her forehead against the steering wheel. A few minutes of contemplation netted no insights or mental relief, so she put the car in gear and got back on the road.

Fina drove home, changed, and turned on the TV to see Pitney having her big moment. She didn’t make the actual announcement, but stood behind the DA with an appropriately solemn look on her face. Rand was identified as a “person of interest,” which everyone knew was just another name for suspect. Fina looked at the assembled group; not surprisingly, Pitney was surrounded by men. Under different circumstances, Fina and Pitney might have been friendly acquaintances. Both women were smart and accomplished, always competing with the big boys, but Fina’s family and Pitney’s profession made that impossible. They were like the Capulets and the Montagues. Or maybe that was Fina and Cristian.