Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery (34 page)

Delgado jumped up, a light in his eyes. “
Hijo de puta!
A do-not-disturb sign.”

“Exactly! So we get Julie to find all the rooms that have had do-not-disturb signs on them for the past two days, and we’ve got ’em, Ribs. We’ve got ’em.”

“I want in on this,” Tip said. “Fuck interviewing a bunch of scientists. I want to shoot somebody.”

I grabbed Delgado’s cell phone; mine was charging. “Anybody know Julie’s number?”

Tip poured water into the coffee pot. “You mean Sixties Julie?”

“That’s her.”

“It’s probably some combination of the astrological chart and a Bob Dylan song.”

Delgado was still rubbing his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, but it sounded good.”

I shook my head and stared at Ribs. “You see what I mean.”

Tip gave me the number, and I called Julie, fully prepared to apologize profusely. She answered on the first ring, sounding every bit like the Sixties Julie she always did. I heard the unmistakable sound of “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” in the background. Combined with her chipper voice, I could only assume she had not yet been asleep, which caused me to wonder once again about the contents of the lunch bags that she brought every day—and guarded ferociously.

“Julie, I hate to bother you, but we need help.”

“No problem, Gino. What have you got?”

I filled her in on the motel idea and asked if she could get some people on the phones right away.

“I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

“Thanks. And call Delgado with any news.” I started to hang up, then remembered I hadn’t run the plates Mars had given me, “One more thing. Get Herb or somebody to run plates that start with VNA. Put the ones registered to women at the top of the list. Check for the usual. And Julie, have him separate the ones that live close to Winthrop.”

“Peace, Gino.”

She caught me by surprise with that one. “Yeah, uh…peace.”

Tip was staring at me with that twisted scar on his face laughing at me. “Peace?”

“Fuck you, Tip.”

I regretted it as soon as I said it, forgetting how ridiculous he was.

“Well, all right, but I ain’t bending over.”

As we walked out the back door, Tip checked his gun. He really
did
want to shoot someone.

Chapter 49

Keeping Busy

L
ucia cooked breakfast for everyone, finding time to even sing a song or two. It wasn’t the happiest of times, but things looked good for Jada coming home, and
nothing
could be better than that. Mars and Alexa had gone to the grocery store for food then worked on making coffee and serving people meals. She finished a batch of eggs then walked over to Gino. “Detective, you need to eat something. Coffee by itself won’t get you through the day.”

Gino smiled at her. “You convinced me. I’ll take whatever you’ve got ready.”

Lucia scooped fried potatoes from the pan, added a few pieces of sausage, and plopped a large spoonful of scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Do you want toast?”

He looked at the plate with a sideways glance. “Might as well clog all my arteries.”

When breakfast was done, Lucia corralled Mars and Alexa into helping with dishes, while she cleaned counters and swept the floor.

“I’ve got someone who comes to clean,” Scott said. “No need for you to do that.”

Lucia looked at him, nodded, but kept sweeping. “No sense in leaving it dirty for them. I got nothing but time, Mr. Winthrop. Besides, sweeping is good work. It keeps me busy and takes my mind off things.”

After sweeping, Lucia wiped the ovens clean—both of them.
What’s a single man and one girl need two ovens for?
She doubted he used even one. Probably ate out most of the time.
And paying people to clean his house and take care of his lawn. Person could make a living just taking care of this man.

She finished the kitchen then worked her way across the tile floors of the family room and onto the patio. Worry pushed her. Worry about her baby girl and what she was going through. Worry over how she’d had hollered at Jada about that darn prom dress. Most of all, worry that it was her fault.
Shouldn’t have let her come to school here. Shouldn’t have tried getting uppity.

Lucia stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom as she wiped away tears. How would Lonny deal with all of this on top of everything else he had on his plate? Lucia started sweeping again, moving over the flagstone patio’s rough edges and sunken joints. She spotted a few joints that had cracked, the mortar loose.

Be something good for Lonny to do.

She poked her head inside the door. “Lonny, get your tools and get out here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Winthrop’s patio is nearly falling apart. I’m surprised you didn’t see it.”

“Patio? I don’t have time to fix a damn patio. Jada’s out there somewhere. She’s—”

Lucia put her hand to his lips. “She’s in the best hands we can hope for. Detective Cataldi is going to find her, and the Lord will watch over her.” Lucia kissed him softly. “Let them do their jobs.”

Lonny seemed to be fighting something within himself, but eventually he nodded then he stepped outside to take a look. “I can chisel them out, but I don’t have any mortar.”

“That can come another day. Do what you can. It’s the least we can do for the man.”

Lucia watched him work for a few minutes before going back inside. Gino met her at the door.

“Smart, what you did.”

“About what?”

“Getting Lonny to work on that patio.”

“A man sitting around worrying does nobody any good.”

“Not many people would know what to do.”

Lucia’s lips curled in a funny way. “I know my husband, Detective. If nothing else, I do know that.”

***

Lonny took out his Trow and Holden stone chisel, the thin one used for tight joints. He chiseled along the cracks at each edge, careful not to chip the flagstone. With the wooden end of his hammer, he tapped on the stone, listening for hollow sounds, a sure sign of trouble. Two of the large pieces had to come out. He reached in his tool bag, got a piece of yellow chalk, and marked them, then continued with the chiseling.

He could tell by the way the mortar gave so quickly that whoever laid this patio hadn’t used a strong enough mortar mixture—too much lime and sand, not enough cement. It had likely saved them money, but would have cost Winthrop a lot to have it fixed. He shook his head as he got back on his knees, a sharpened joint slicker in his hand for prying the loose stuff up.

People don’t do their jobs anymore.

He worried about what the world would be like for Mars and Jada when they grew up. Probably more of the same. As he thought about Jada, the worries he had momentarily forgotten returned. What was she doing right now? Had they hurt her? Lonny stopped, rested his butt on his heels. From the way they talked, he felt sure they hadn’t raped her, but…what other scars would she have? The image of her naked on that bed sent shivers down his spine. He squeezed the handle of the hammer.

If I ever get hold of them…

Chapter 50

The Money

W
hen I arrived at Scott’s house, I reminded him again not to mention anything to anybody. “Tell me again, Mr. Winthrop, who did you talk to about this?”

“Some colleagues at work. That’s all.”

“Do they think it was Alexa who was taken?”

He thought for a moment. “The only people who know of the kidnapping think it was Alexa.”

“Don’t tell them anything different. If they ask, tell them the police said you can’t talk to anyone.”

“I’m certain we won’t have to worry about it after today, Detective. Once I give them the money, they’ll release Jada.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Scott left, heading for the stairs. I began to wonder why he seemed so optimistic. And why he wasn’t worried about his seven million dollars.
Seven million, one hundred thousand,
I reminded myself. He almost seemed…relieved. Not the reaction I’d have expected from a man about to risk his life and all his money for someone who wasn’t his daughter.

I went outside and called Julie. I didn’t expect her in yet, but she answered on the first ring, chipper as always.

“Hey, Sixties,” I said. “How’s it going?” The Rolling Stones played in the background, Mick Jagger’s unmistakable voice belting out “Mother’s Little Helper.”

“Hey,” she answered.

“Did you ever finish the financials on Winthrop?”

“I gave you what I had. He’s solid—nothing late, great credit. And you know about the anticipated windfall.”

“Check on his divorce. Find out what his ex got. See if there’s a trust fund for the kid. That kind of stuff.”

“You think he has something to do with this?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I have a lot to do for Delgado this morning, but I’ll get to it.”

“You got enough help?”

“Captain Cooper gave me anybody I needed. And she put me in charge.”

“Keep it up and you’ll have your own research department.” I looked at my watch—the one that wasn’t there. “Gotta go,” I said, and opened the door. “Mr. Winthrop, time to go.”

He came out dressed in designer clothes.

“Don’t forget the bags,” I reminded him.

He returned a minute later with the two Adidas bags, which we tossed in the back of his SUV, and then we headed for the bank. He exited the subdivision, got on The Woodlands Parkway, and then took the exit for I-45 South.

“I’m doing the drop,” Scott said.

I laughed. “Like hell.”

“It’s my responsibility, Detective.”

This guy was really out there. “This is dangerous. You can’t get involved.”

“I already
am
involved. These people have Jada, and they expect
me
to deliver the money. Remember what happened with the Uncle Eddy fiasco.”

He had me there. In lieu of an answer, I said nothing.

“So?” he said.

“It’s your ass,” I said.

“And my money,” he added.

“That too. We’ll be with you though. I’ve got even more men, and we’ll have you covered all the way, no matter where they take you.”

“That’s good to know. I’m not trying to sound cocky or arrogant. I
am
scared.”

I looked over at him. Winthrop confused the hell out of me, always sending mixed signals. “You should be scared. You do the wrong thing with people like this, and they’ll blow your head clean off.”

I noticed a few beads of sweat on his forehead. He wiped them off with the back of his hand. “If you’re trying to frighten me, Detective, you are doing a damn good job of it.”

As we finished the drive to the bank, I thought of Lucia and how worried she must be. That reminded me that I hadn’t spoken to Ron in a week or so. I’d thought of calling but hadn’t. Sometimes I got afraid to call, fearing something would be wrong. That the phone would ring forever then be picked up by a nurse at an emergency room. Or a cop. I was torn between not wanting to hear from my son—going with the old adage that no news is good news—and wanting to hear from him every day, even if it was a message from him saying, “I’m okay, Dad. No need to worry.” I sighed. That’s what my life had come to. And every damn bit of it my fault. I vowed right then that I wasn’t going to let Lucia—or Lonny—have to worry anymore. They were getting their girl back.

***

Delgado had his team assembled and prepped. All they needed was a location from Julie. Ribs looked over at Lance. A vision of an old-time gunfighter came to mind—the sheriff waiting for the bad guy to show up. Or the gunslinger with the pearl-handled guns. Lance was a throwback to the days when no one questioned an officer shooting. If the cop said it was a good shoot—it was. Now…now it was almost better to
get
shot.

Ribs paced, eager for the day to be over. He called Rosalee, faked another upbeat tone, acting as if he had nothing better to do. Despite his bravado, Ribs got scared on cases like this. Not necessarily for himself, but for Rosalee. She wouldn’t make it without him. All her life she’d dreamed of being a mother and a housewife. Ribs doubted if she would
want
to survive as anything else. He checked his vest again, then his gun, then paced some more.