Sacrifice Fly (41 page)

“Billy,” I said. “You made it.”

He looked up. It was Jack. Jack Knight. And he had a grin on his face you couldn’t
knock off with a shovel.

“Hey, Teach,” he said. “Everything work out okay?” We looked at each other for a few
seconds. “Oh. I guess Billy didn’t tell you I was one of the ones he reached out to.
He musta been scraping the bottom of the barrel when he got to me.” He looked at Frankie.
“Hey, kid. Sorry about having to take that guy out when he was so close to you and
all, but, if I hadn’t … we wouldn’t be here talking now, would we? Of course, if I
missed by a bit, probably would’ve hit your teacher here.” He turned to me. “The old
pussy got your tongue? Or you just searching for the right words of gratitude?”

“I don’t know what to say, Jack,” I said.

“That’s a first. ‘Thanks’ might work for some people, but coming from you? I don’t
think so. I’m here for Billy.”

“Yeah … well…”

“Thanks, mister,” Frankie said.

“No problem, kid.” Jack took a step closer, took off his red baseball cap, and placed
it on Frankie’s head. “I’m sure Mr. Donne here has taught you all that important stuff,
huh? Like, just ’cause you think what you’re doing is right, don’t always make it
so. That how it goes, Ray? Did I get that one?”

Before I could even think of a response, Billy pulled up in his Jeep. Edgar was right
behind him. They both screeched to simultaneous halts and jumped out of their vehicles.

“Christ!” Billy said, rushing over to us. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“You did,” Jack pointed out.

Billy slapped Jack on the back. “Thanks for getting back to me in a timely fashion.”
He looked at the case Jack was holding. “I see you got my message and came prepared.”

“It’s the boy scout in me,” Jack said.

“How did you…?” I began and then stopped. I wasn’t sure what question to ask.

“I was making a pass by the river when I spotted Ray here getting into the van,” Jack
explained to Billy. “Tailed them around for a bit, and then we ended up back here.
Positioned myself above the action and waited to see how the shit was gonna come down.”

“Outstanding,” Billy said. “What’s with the bad guys?”

“Three in the pool,” I said. “Two injured.” I nodded toward Jack.

“Okay,” Billy said. “Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll talk more tomorrow about
this. I wanna hear all the details.”

“Over beer?” Jack asked.

“Lots of them.”

Jack Knight turned and walked away. I took a step after him, wanting to say something.
Billy stopped me. “Let him go, partner. He’s not going to hear you.” Then he called
Edgar over. “Can you take these two home?”

“You got it,” Edgar said.

“Good work tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything. I just…”

“‘Just’ nothing. You were there, man. Sometimes that’s all you need to be.” Billy
turned to face Frankie and offered his hand. Frankie stepped forward and took it.
“You must be one helluva kid, Francisco. My man Ray took quite a chance on you.”

Frankie held Billy’s hand and looked to me. “I know.”

“I hope you don’t disappoint.”

“I won’t, sir.”

“Good.” Then to me he added, “You’re gonna have a shitload of explaining to do.”

“I’ll think of something.” I stuck out my hand, and Billy pulled me into a hug.

“Keep it simple,” he said. “Let’s not make it too long before we get together, partner.
I’m available for nonemergencies, too.”

“Thanks.” I searched for something more to say, but nothing came.

“I think it’s time to go home,” Billy said.

“Absolutely,” I said.

On the way, Frankie and I went over his very simple story.

Chapter 36

DETECTIVE ROYCE LOOKED AT
me and said, “So the grandmother called
you,
huh?”

“Right after she called you guys, I guess.” We were standing on the balcony outside
of Mrs. Santos’s apartment. It was a few minutes after nine, Sunday morning, and the
sun had just disappeared behind thickening clouds. A breeze was picking up, and I
could make out the smell of the ocean. Weather coming this way.

“Gee,” Royce said, jotting that down in his notebook. “Missing grandson returns early
Sunday morning, and the second person she thinks to call is the kid’s teacher, who
rolls out of bed and gets here just before the police. That’s pretty … impressive.
Whose phone you think she used, Mr. Donne? Hers is out of service.”

“She’s pretty close with her downstairs neighbor,” I said. “The one she’s having coffee
with in the kitchen.”

“Right.” He wrote something else down. “She’s got a good-looking daughter, that one.”

“Elsa.”

“Elsa. Sure. She can make coffee for me anytime.” He took a sip from the cup that
had been getting cold on the outside table.

“What about you?” I asked. “You made it all the way in from Long Island on a Sunday
just for this?”

“No, not just for this,” he said. “I was spending some late-night quality time at
the shop with my good buddy Oscar Thomas.” I smiled at his use of cop slang for overtime.
“Got a call about a gunshot victim at a local church early this morning.”

“A church?”

“The one the grandmother goes to.” He looked back inside and lowered his voice. “And
when the responding officers arrived on scene, they found that guy we met the other
day at the station. Elijah Cruz? That’s why they called me.”

“Elijah Cruz?” It looked like I had more explaining to do. “I’m not sure what Frankie—”

Royce held up his hand. “How about I tell you what I know, and then if you think you
have anything of value to add, I’ll let you do that.”

“Okay,” I said.

Royce took out his notebook. “Priest called it in. Father…”—he squinted at his writing—“…
something or other. Opened up this morning and found Cruz on the altar.”

He went back to the church? “What did Cruz say?”

“Not much,” Royce said. “He’s dead.”

“What happened?”

“Well,” Royce said. “Here’s the damnedest thing. Did you know that churches have security
cameras?”

I thought about my late-night visit to the church. “No,” I said, doing my best to
keep my tone even. “I didn’t.”

“Yeah. ‘Trust in the Lord, but everyone else—smile for the camera.’” Royce grinned.
“Anyway, they got one camera, inside, focused on the entrance. Priest said they’d
been broken into a few times the past two years, so—get this—Cruz springs for a little
video surveillance.”

“And?” I asked, thankful the church only had the one camera.

“And … we got Cruz coming into the church very early this morning. He’s clearly alive,
but he’s practically being carried in. By two guys. One huge, the other not so much.
And the smaller of the two…”

I waited a few seconds before saying, “Yeah?”

“Damned if he doesn’t match the description of the guy you said was hassling you last
week. Jerry Vega.”

“Really,” I said, trying for surprised.

“I shit you not,” Detective Royce said. “We got some bloody prints the Crime Scene
guys’ll run. Today being Sunday we’ll probably have to wait ’til tomorrow for the
results, but it looks like him. You said he was with a big guy, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “If it’s even him.”

“Right.
If
.” Royce paused as he looked at his notebook again. “Oh, yeah,” he said, almost as
an afterthought. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a computer disc. “We found
this on Cruz’s person.” He turned it around to show it to me. It read “Disc II” in
my handwriting. I had just given that to Cruz a few hours ago.

“Is that important?” I asked.

“I’ll find out when I get it back to the precinct,” he said. “Makes you wonder though.”

“What’s that?”

“If there’s a Disc One, where is it?”

As I pretended to think about that, it occurred to me that Vega had taken Disc One
to protect himself. Maybe he knew he was also protecting those folks Cruz was helping.
As far as Disc Two and John Roberts? Fuck him.

“I don’t know, Detective,” I said. “It’s a mystery.”

“That it is, Mr. Donne.” He gave a solemn nod, glanced at his notebook again, and
closed it. “Shame about Cruz, though. If he’d gotten to a hospital, he might still
be alive. Vega’s looking at depraved indifference, at least.”

“Have you told Mrs. Santos yet?” I asked.

“Nah. Didn’t want to ruin the joyous homecoming. She’ll find out soon enough.” He
slipped his notebook into his back pocket. “So there I am trying to put that shit
at the church together, and I get another call informing me that our prodigal son
here has returned. I release the body to the ME and head over to listen to Junior’s
story about being dropped off by a van over by the river. Says after he got him and
his sister upstate and then dropped the sister off with you, he got abducted. Not
sure where he was the last week. Must be the trauma.”

“Yeah. Frankie told me. That’s some scary shit.”

“Almost unbelievable.” Royce gave me a long look. “Considering what coulda happened
though? The kid was damned lucky.” He walked over, opened the sliding door, and turned
back to me. “I’m sure he appreciates all you did for him. Sometimes they don’t come
right out and say it, kids being kids and all.”

“Thanks, Detective. But I really didn’t—”

“So I guess you don’t have anything else to add after all,” Royce said. “Do you?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“Good,” he said. “I don’t need any more complications. How’s it feel, Mr. Donne?”

“How’s what feel?”

“Redemption.”

“If I had to guess?” I asked. “I’d say not half bad. But, I’m just guessing.”

He stuck out his hand, and I took it. “You keep sticking to that story, Donne. And
let’s hope the kid sticks to his.” He held on to my hand a bit longer. “I bet you
were one helluva cop back in the day. You give any thought to coming back?”

I smiled. He knew. “I did there for a while, but…”

“The knees?”

“That’s what I told myself at first. But it was an easy out.” I scratched my head.
“I just got too damn tired of too many days that didn’t end like this one. Kids like
Frankie?” I motioned with my head into the apartment. “I’m better off seeing them
inside my classroom. Out on the street, that’s a game I don’t want to play anymore.
Officer
Donne’s retired. I’m gonna stick with being Mr. D. Shit, I’ll be making your job
easier.”

“Wouldn’t that be a pleasant change,” Detective Royce said. “Goodbye,
Mister
Donne.”

“Good-bye, Detective.”

He went inside, and I turned around to watch the East River. The sky was getting darker
now, and for the first time in what seemed like weeks there was a slight chill in
the air. My cell phone rang. I had forgotten that Edgar gave it back to me. I slipped
it out of my pocket. “Hello?”

“Raymond,” my sister’s voice said. “Your phone does work.”

“Hey, Rache. Kinda early for you, isn’t it? How’s L.A.?”

“It
was
fine,” she said. “But I took the red-eye back last night. Dad’s memorial’s today.
Or did you let it slip your mind?”

Shit. “It’s been crazy here, Rachel. I’ll fill you in when I see you.”

“Later today?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll call you.”

I considered going back inside, saying my good-byes, and heading home. The door to
the deck slid open again, and Cousin Anita walked out, her pregnant belly leading
the way.

“Mr. Donne,” she said.

“Mrs. Roberts. How’s your husband?”

“He is still in the coma, but the doctors are optimistic,” she said.

“Good.”

“I was on my way to the hospital when I got the call about Frankie. I came right over.”

“That was good of you.”

“We are family. That’s what we do.”

“Right.”

“I spoke to Francisco,” she said. “He told me…”—she looked over her shoulder—“everything.
This family owes you a lot, Mr. Donne.”

“Detective Royce has a disc,” I said, not in the mood to hear who owed me what. “In
a few hours, he’s going to know about your husband’s business arrangement with Elijah
Cruz. Your husband kept very precise records.”

Her look turned from grateful to concerned. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means your life is going to be changing drastically. Soon.” I took a step toward
her. “When your husband comes out of his coma, he’s going to have a lot of questions
to answer. You need to be prepared for that, Mrs. Roberts.”

When she didn’t reply, I made a move toward the door, but she stepped in front of
me. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“That’s an odd question,” I said, taking a step back. “We’ve met once. What difference
does it make how I feel about you?”

“It might make a difference,” she said, “if you knew—
thought
you knew— something about me.”

I was beyond fried and not up to playing word games with this woman, but something
came to me. I waited to make sure it wasn’t the fatigue or hunger playing games with
my head.

“When I showed up at your house,” I began, “and told you I was looking into Frankie’s
disappearance, you thought I was a cop, and you got this look on your face. I couldn’t
figure it out at the time, but I just saw it again as you came out here to talk to
me. It was fear. Not ‘What can I do to help my cousin?’ Fear. And then when you realized
who I was, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

“That is not true.”

“Yeah, it is. And your husband acted the same way when I went to see him.”

“I am not responsible for my husband’s actions.”

“He wasn’t protecting himself,” I said. “He was protecting you.”

“So?”

“You didn’t come here to see Frankie. You came here to see me.”

“Why,” she said, doing her best to not look away, “would I do that?”

She moved to the balcony and placed her hands on the railing. She was taking deep
breaths, as if she was bothered by the humidity in the air. I walked over and stood
to her left.