sidewayz glory (12 page)

The roof level was empty. The cops were gone. Tito and Kennin walked across the lot and then down the ramps back to the first floor. Tito dragged his feet and looked drained.

“I can't take this,” he moaned through chattering teeth. “You gotta have nerves of steel for this stuff. I've got nerves of bubblegum.”

“Tell Cousin Raoul not to steal any more cars,” Kennin suggested.

“Right,” Tito scoffed. “I might as well tell my dog to stop licking his nuts. Ain't gonna happen,
amigo.
”

They got back down to the valet office. Tito looked up at the clock. “Five of twelve, dude. Almost closing time. How're you gonna get home?”

The words had hardly left his lips when Mariel pulled up in the red Lexus. Kennin watched Tito's jaw drop.

“No way!” he gasped under his breath.

“It's not what it seems,” Kennin said in a low voice.

“Oh, sure,” Tito smirked. “It's midnight and the hottest girl in school is picking you up and it's not what it seems. Mariel just happened to be passing by here exactly at closing time and just happened to stop in because somehow she miraculously knew that you'd need a ride home.”

Kennin couldn't help but be amused. He wondered how Tito would react if he knew Mariel wasn't there to take him to his place, but to hers.

“Catch you tomorrow,” Kennin said.

“Yeah, sure,” Tito said. “In the meantime, I hope you get some sleep tonight.”

“It's not like that,” Kennin said.

“Anything you say,” Tito grumbled, and went to get his BMX bike.

Kennin got into the Lexus. It was fragrant with perfume. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“My pleasure,” Mariel said with a smile, and started to drive. “So how was work?”

“The same as always,” Kennin replied with a shrug.

“What's your job?” she asked as they rode through the dark.

“Washing cars.”

“Much of a future in that?” she asked.

“Maybe if you're the guy who owns the car wash,” Kennin said.

“Think you'll be that guy someday?” Mariel asked.

“Not a clue. How about you?”

“I'll wait till college to decide,” Mariel said. “Sometimes I think about acting.”

Appropriate choice,
Kennin thought.

They entered Mariel's neighborhood, passing large houses with red or blue tile roofs and broad green lawns. It was after midnight, and most of the windows were dark. The streets were lined with palm trees, and the driveways had shiny new cars parked in them. Kennin lowered the passenger window to smell the sweet, moist air.

Mariel pulled the Lexus into the driveway, next to a big Mercedes sedan. Like the other houses on the street, the windows in her parents' house were dark.

“Close the door quietly,” she whispered as they got out of the Lexus. In the dark driveway she took his hand and led him around the side of the house.

“You're not going to tell your parents I'm staying here?” Kennin whispered.

“I will,” Mariel whispered back. “When the time is right.”

They went around to the back of the house. Unlike the last time Kennin had been here, the pool was dark. The only sound was the whirring of the filtration system. Still holding his hand tightly in hers, Mariel led him to the cabana. She
quietly turned the door knob, opened the door, and led him inside.

Kennin expected her to flick on the lights and show him around. Instead, Mariel turned to him in the dark and slid her hands around his waist, pulling him closer until their bodies pressed against each other.

to school the next morning, but Kennin insisted she drop him off a couple of blocks away so that he could walk. The last thing he needed was rumors starting because people saw him getting out of her car. In the afternoon he walked a few blocks and then she picked him up and drove him the rest of the way to work.

But the third afternoon when Kennin left school, he saw a familiar-looking dark green unmarked cop car parked at the curb. Inside sat Detective Neilson. Kennin caught the detective's eye and nodded. Then he motioned with his head down the block. Neilson nodded back and drove slowly to the corner.

Kennin turned the corner. Then, away from the rest of the kids, he leaned into the window of the detective's car. “What's the word?”

Neilson jerked his head over to the passenger side. “Get in.”

“We going somewhere?”

“Just get in,” Neilson growled. He was not in a good mood, and it was best to do what he said. Kennin got into the car. Neilson was wearing an ugly brown overcoat that did not go well with his new look. On the sidewalk a few kids from school passed. One or two looked into the car and saw Kennin.

“Think you could drive, so these kids don't see me?” Kennin asked.

Neilson put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. “How's your sister?”

“You came all the way here to ask me that?” Kennin asked.

“Hey,” Neilson snapped sharply. “Watch your mouth.”

Kennin stared out the window.

“Still working over at the Babylon parking garage?” the detective asked.

“That's right.”

“Know anything about a stolen Camry that wound up on the fifth floor the other night?”

Kennin shook his head.

“Funny thing is, the lab guys went over it and the entire car was wiped clean,” Neilson said. “No prints at all. Not even the owner's. Makes you wonder how the car even got there.”

“Maybe the owner wore gloves,” Kennin said.

“Yeah, I thought of that too,” Neilson said. “So I asked Mrs. Johnson. She's the car's owner. And guess what? She's never worn gloves while driving in her life. She's afraid the wheel will slip.”

“Guess she doesn't know about racing gloves,” Kennin said.

“Guess not,” said Neilson. “So back to my original question. How do you think the car got wiped clean?”

“You said it was stolen,” Kennin asked. “So maybe the thief wiped it clean.”

“Well,
somebody
wiped it clean, that's for sure,” Neilson said. “And that's the strange thing, because while the lab guys couldn't find any prints, they did find residue on the car of some special pH-balanced soaps with lubricants.”

Kennin scowled and raised his palms upward questioningly. As if to say,
So?

“So it turns out Mrs. Johnson never uses that stuff,” Neilson said.

“She washes the car herself?” Kennin asked.

“No, she usually goes to the Five Hands Car Wash,” Neilson said. “Strange thing is, they don't use those kinds of soaps either. But guess who does?”

The answer was obvious. “Mr. Mercado has us use them on his cars,” Kennin answered.

Neilson nodded. “You and Tito Rivera, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So tell me, Kennin, how in the world do you think Mrs. Johnson's car got wiped down with the same rags—”

“We don't use rags,” Kennin interrupted. “We use chammies. Sheepskin.”

Neilson raised an eyebrow. “Very fancy. So how did her car get wiped down with Mr. Mercado's chammies?”

Kennin shrugged.

“Where are the chammies usually kept, Kennin?” the detective asked.

“In a closet next to the valet parking office,” Kennin said.

“Is the closet usually locked?”

Kennin shook his head.

Neilson sighed. “And next you're going to tell me you have no idea how chammies in a closet on the first floor were used to wipe a stolen Camry on the fifth floor. Like I'm supposed to believe that every car thief in Las Vegas knows the chammies are there. And that with three police cruisers chasing him, this particular car thief had the wherewithal to stop on the first floor and pick up a few chammies. Then drive up to the fifth floor and carefully wipe down both the inside and the outside of the car. And then stroll away.”

“If you say so,” Kennin replied.

“And that leads to my next question,” Neilson said. “Just how do you think the chammies that were used on the fifth floor got back down to the closet on the first floor?”

“Maybe they didn't,” Kennin said.

“You missing any chammies?” the detective asked.

“I wouldn't know.”

“Would Tito Rivera know?”

“Why don't you ask him?”

Neilson drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and was quiet for a moment. “You're a pretty cool character, Kennin. Especially for a sixteen-year-old. But that in itself speaks volumes, know what I mean? It tells me you've been here before. It tells me you've had a lot of experience dealing with cops.”

Kennin stared down at an empty can of Diet Mountain Dew on the floor of the car. “Listen, Detective Neilson, I know you're only doing your job, so here's the real deal. I don't steal cars anymore, okay? Maybe I did some dumb stuff back in California, but that was a long time ago in a galaxy far away. I'm finished with that now.”

“You got any outstanding warrants?” Neilson asked.

Kennin shook his head. “The charges were adjudicated. Youthful offender. The records are sealed.”

Neilson raised a blond eyebrow. “You telling me you learned your lesson?”

“You could say that,” Kennin said. “You could say that I don't want to end up like my father. You could say that mostly, I'd just like to be left alone.”

“But you still haven't told me everything you know about the Camry,” Neilson said. “Or about the GTO.”

“You know that saying about being caught between a rock and a hard place?” Kennin asked.

“Sometimes you have to take sides,” said Neilson.

“Against my family and friends?”

“People do it all the time,” Neilson said.

Kennin didn't bother to reply. He just gazed out the window.

“So, seriously, what is going on with your sister?” Neilson asked.

“What do you care?” Kennin asked.

“You don't trust anyone, do you?” Neilson said.

Kennin tried to think about who he could really trust. Only two people carne to mind: his sister, as long as she wasn't totally strung out. And Angelita.

“She's okay,” Kennin said.

“My guys tell me they haven't seen her around,” Neilson said.

“That's right,” said Kennin.

“I hear certain people are kind of upset,” Neilson said. “They've been looking for her.”

Kennin placed his shoe on the empty Mountain Dew can and slowly began to crush it.

“I could help make sure they don't find her,” Neilson offered. “But I'd need something in return.”

Kennin nodded. The detective steered the car over to the curb and stopped. “You can go. Just think about what I said.”

Kennin got out. He was a few blocks from school and assumed he would have to walk back to meet Mariel. So he was surprised when she pulled up to the curb in front of him. He opened the door and got in.

“You followed us?” he asked.

“I saw you get in the car,” Mariel replied as she pulled away from the curb. “So that was a detective, right?”

“How'd you know?” Kennin asked.

This time it was Mariel's turn to shrug mysteriously.

after first-period geometry class, Kennin stepped out into the hall and almost bumped into Tito and Angelita.

“What are you doing here?” Tito asked him.

“In school?” Kennin replied. “They tell me it's required by law.”

Angelita smiled.

“But this early?” Tito said. “The bus strike's still on. Don't tell me Mariel's driving over to your place every morning and giving you a ride.”

The smile disappeared from Angelita's face. Kennin wondered why she and Tito were together. They rarely spent time with each other in school.

Luckily, Tito had more pressing news. “You hear about Chris? He's on the Babylon team. Driftdog Dave made it too. Everyone wants to know when you're gonna try out.”

Kennin's eyes darted back and forth between Angelita and Tito. “How many times are you gonna ask me that?”