They (46 page)

“Sure,” Frank said, on a roll now. “And you won’t say anything about us, right?”

“I’m not going to say anything about us.”

“And what’s going to happen if they get a detective that’s got half a brain, they’re eventually going to connect you with me and that’s going to lead them to what happened in Pennsylvania. And then what are you going to tell them?”

“I’ll figure that out if it happens,” Mike said. He slumped back in his seat, wearing a mask of defeat.

“Bullshit,” Frank said, leaning forward. “You’re gonna think about this
now
. You’re gonna come up with something more solid than that, because you are
not
gonna implicate me in this at all.”

Mike turned to him, the spark of anger still in his eyes. “Changing your mind then?”

“No. I don’t want you to go to the cops, but I can’t stop you, either.” Truth was, the more Frank talked and bluffed, the more he was putting himself in Mike’s shoes. If it were Brandy and his kids that had come up missing, he would want to call the police too. “If you go to the cops you don’t know me, and we’ve never met each other. You go to the cops and I am fucking out of here, you got me? I’ve not only never seen you, I’m not only over-the-hills-and-far-away, I don’t even fucking exist.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be too hard to fake,” Mike said. “They’ve got everything. There’s nothing at the house that’s going to lead to you, and even phone records aren’t going to turn anything up. I was careful of that.”

Frank regarded Mike for a moment, his demeanor cracking. The more he thought about it, the better calling the police was starting to sound. Worst-case scenario: even if they were caught for the fiasco in Lititz, maybe they could plead self-defense and expose these bastards. In the meantime, while Mike was contacting the police, Frank could contact Billy Grecko and turn what was left of their investigation over to him. Hopefully it would be enough for Billy to go to his FBI contact with.

That wouldn’t be enough, though. In fact, their best plan of action was to avoid the police. And Frank had to convince Mike that avoiding the police was the best course of action.

“You’re still going to need some kind of alibi,” Frank said, thinking out loud. “The police are going to want to know why you waited until today to call them.”

Mike glanced at him, looking wary. “Yeah, I suppose they are.”

“Let’s think about this a minute,” Frank said, forcing himself to stay calm and focused on the matter at hand. “If you’re going to contact the police, we still need each other. We also need to move the investigation into Billy’s hands. You got me?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah.”

“Here’s why going to the police would be a bad idea,” Frank said. “If you had booked our tickets under your name we could have come up with an excuse for you being out there pretty easily. Because we can’t do that, every other excuse you give them, like deciding you wanted to go camping or you took a drive out into the desert, are going to be suspect. How often do your kids drop in to see you or call?”

“Sometimes we can go a whole week without hearing from my son Jimmy,” Mike said. “My other son, Brad, lives up in Lake Tahoe. He calls about once a week. He usually calls on weekends.”

“When is the last time you saw Jimmy?” Frank asked.

Mike shrugged. “Four, maybe five days ago.”

“If Jimmy had decided to call or drop by between then and now, the cops would already be trying to get a hold of you. In fact, it’s very likely they would consider you a suspect in your wife’s disappearance should your kids get the police involved. Had the police shown up at your house before you got home, you’d probably be in an interrogation room now being grilled as a suspect in your wife’s disappearance and probable murder.”

Mike gasped at this obvious realization. Frank pressed on. “But your
kids haven’t been in touch recently. Therefore, it’s possible we have an
ywhere from a few hours to a few more days before they do decide to call or drop by. We need to make the most of it.”

“But how?” Mike moaned. He buried his face in his hands, the frustration painfully obvious to Frank.

“That depends on where we want to go with this,” Frank said. “They’ve made their move, but they don’t hold all the cards. At least not yet. We have documents on my hard drive. My suggestion is we deliver my laptop to your friend Billy pronto and have him turn it over to his FBI contact.”

“But what if Carol is still alive? What if they’re holding her somewhere?

“Do you really think they would keep her alive?”

Mike’s face brimmed with tears. “What if they go after one of my kids…or my granddaughter…”

“Gimme their numbers,” Frank said. “I can check into that quite easily.”

“How?”

“Leave it to me.” Frank pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from the compartment between the front bucket seats. Mike rattled off two sets of phone numbers for his adult children, both work and home. Frank jotted them down. “Do either of them have Caller ID?”

“I don’t know,” Mike said. He looked haunted. Defeated. “Maybe.”

Frank’s mind was racing. “Let’s find a phone booth. It’ll be better if I place those calls from someplace anonymous. Once I can verify they’re safe, we need to deliver my laptop to Billy and then you and I really need to disappear.”

“Yeah.” Mike’s face was worn. It looked like he’d aged ten years.

Without another word, Frank waited until it was safe, then he pulled back onto the road and headed for a convenience store in search of a phone booth to place the calls.

“DID YOU TALK to them? Are they safe?”

Those were the first words out of Mike when Frank returned to the car. He climbed in and shut the door. Mike immediately began to pepper him with more questions. “You talked to them, right? What did you say? How did you—”

Frank cut him off. “I called Jimmy and your daughter-in-law at work and got their voice mails. I was able to zero out and get a secretary, who told me they were in meetings. So they’re safe.”

“What about Kimberly?” Kimberly was Mike’s granddaughter.

“I called the day care. Cathy dropped Kimberly off this morning. I assume Kimberly, Jimmy, and you and Carol are the only ones who have the authority to pick her up?”

“Yes!” Mike nodded. At the news that Cathy had dropped Kimberly off this morning, Mike looked visibly relieved. “What about Brad?”

“I was able to talk to him,” Frank said. “The minute I verified it was him, I told him I was a telemarketer trying to sell him insurance and he hung up on me.”

Mike rubbed his face. He still looked worried, still appeared scared, but hearing the news that his sons and granddaughter were safe had taken the bulk of the worry out of his mind. “So what do we do now?”

“I tried calling Jimmy and Cathy on their cell phones but my calls went straight to voice mail. Cathy must have a busy schedule. Her secretary said she had a meeting, then had to leave early to take Kimberly to a pediatrician appointment at ten o’clock. She must have left early for that because when I called the day care, they told me Cathy had already picked her up.”

“At least she’s safe,” Mike said. He looked at Frank. “I’m tired and I’m hungry. I know this sounds horrible, but I need something in my stomach. I’m fucking starving.”

Frank started the car. “Let’s grab a quick bite to eat and some coffee. We can lay out a plan over breakfast.”

Five minutes later, shortly after ten o’clock in the morning, they entered a Coco’s restaurant on Talbert Avenue and were escorted by a twenty-something female hostess to a table where they refueled.

And made plans.

“THE PARTY YOU have called has turned their phone off or is not in the service area. Please try again—”

Goddamn
! Frank hit the disconnect button on his cell phone and shot a look at Mike. “Let me try again,” he said.

“What’s the matter?” Mike asked. He was standing near the doorway of the cramped motel room, waiting for Frank to finish collecting his things.

“Vince isn’t answering his goddamn cell phone,” Frank said.

Mike frowned. It was a quarter till one in the afternoon. They’d spent an hour at Coco’s eating breakfast, drinking coffee, and talking in low tones. Mike had called Billy Grecko and given him the Cliff Note’s version of what was happening and made plans to meet at his office at 1:30. Once Mike had a cup of coffee in him and put away half his breakfast—scrambled eggs, hash browns, and pancakes—he became more rational, more level-headed. He agreed with Frank that they couldn’t call the police even though his emotions begged him to simply drop everything and do so. Frank had taken his laptop in the restaurant for safe-keeping and it sat between them in the corner booth he’d requested. Mike had mostly listened as Frank quickly outlined a hasty plan: the first step was to get the laptop to Billy Grecko; the second step was to contact Vince and make coordinated steps to disappear again; the third was subject for debate. Frank needed to gather his things, then make like a leaf and blow. He suggested Mike disappear too. Mike insisted on being dropped off at his home first. “I’ve got to get a few things—”

“We’ll do a drive-by the house first,” Frank had said. “Make sure the police aren’t there. Then we’ll leave.”

That had been the plan. As they’d talked over breakfast, they ruminated over where the course of their actions would take them. Frank was confident that Bill Grecko’s FBI contact would produce results. The agent in question had broken up a large snuff-film ring last year that had been the result of Bill’s own hard work. According to Mike, Billy still didn’t like to talk about it.

Once they’d finished breakfast and paid the bill, they’d headed straight to Billy Grecko’s office in Santa Ana. The drive was made in funereal silence. Mike had placed a call to Billy on the way over and the lawyer had met them in the lobby of the building his law office was housed in. It was the first time Frank had met the lawyer; he appeared to be around Mike’s age, with graying, curling hair that was balding along the crown, with a somewhat slim figure and weathered features that told Frank he was an ex-drinker. They’d shaken hands quickly, and then Billy had escorted them to the elevator and whisked them up to his office.

Where behind closed doors they’d handed the laptop over. Billy had quickly summoned an IT tech into his office who began to promptly image Frank’s hard drive onto another laptop while Billy and Mike made small talk. Frank had sat on the sofa, trying not to fidget. When the IT tech was finished, he left both laptops in Billy’s office and exited the room. Billy nodded. “I take it this is everything?”

“Most of it,” Mike said. He handed Billy the box that contained thirty years of secrets along with the key. “This is the box Vince’s mother kept. I told you about it a few days ago. You should be able to match the clippings and photos with the documents from Frank’s laptop.”

Billy nodded. He held the box, his eyes never leaving Mike’s. “I can’t promise you anything,” he said. “But I know Hank, my Bureau friend, is very eager to see this.”

“Thank God he is.”

“Do either of you need any kind of professional surveillance or security?”

Frank had perked up at this. “Can you help us out in that?”

“I can arrange something. Pull a few strings. It might take me a few hours to get everything lined up.”

“If you can do that, yeah,” Frank said. “That would be great.”

“I’ll make some calls.” Billy looked at Mike. “You haven’t called the police yet?”

“No.” Mike shook his head.

“Don’t call them,” Billy said. “Hank and his team will take over once I get this material to him.”

“What should we do now?” Mike asked.

“I’d prefer if you stay here until I can arrange for you to go into hiding,” Billy said.

“What about Vince and Tracy? We told them to go to the Venice Beach area and wait for our call.”

Billy nodded at Frank. “You need to call them. Have them come here.”

“I have stuff at the motel room I’m staying at,” Frank said. “I should really head back to get it.”

“I’d like to get some things from the house too,” Mike said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Billy said.

“Why not? I’ll be in and out in three minutes.”

“Because they know who you are now.”

“He has a point, Mike,” Frank said.

Mike turned to Frank. “Why haven’t they come after us then?”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Billy Grecko spoke up. “Is it absolutely necessary for you to go back to your house?”

For a moment, Mike was silent. Then, in a soft whisper, he said, “If I’m going to live the rest of my life in some kind of witness protection program, I want…I want pictures of my kids. My wife…” He looked at Billy, at Frank, his soft blue eyes imploring them to understand. “If I have to spend the rest of my life away from them, I need…I have to—”

Frank sighed. “I can go in the house with him. I’m armed and I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

Billy Grecko appeared to think about it. Frank knew the lawyer had deep reservations about this, but he’d finally relented. “I want you both back here in an hour. If you aren’t back, I’m getting the police involved.”

Frank rose to his feet. “We’ll be back.”

And now they were in Frank’s motel room.

It hadn’t taken long for Frank to pack the rest of his stuff into the single duffel bag. Once packed, he’d paused quickly to call Vince. He even tried Vince at his home number and got the answering machine. He looked at Mike. “I’ll keep trying.”

“We should have gotten Tracy’s cell number,” Mike said.

“Yeah,” Frank agreed. He checked his bag, checked the handgun he had strapped to a holster around his waist, his T-shirt concealing it. He was ready to go.

He didn’t even bother to formally check out. He’d checked in under his real name. The electronic trail of Frank Black would end there, in that little dive-motel on the border of Costa Mesa and Huntington Beach.

On the drive to Mike’s house in Huntington Beach, Frank’s thoughts drifted to Brandy and the day he told her he was changing their identities and moving them to New England. He’d given her the barest glimpse of what he was working on—he’d told her the basics years before, when they first met—and when he told her he was moving her and the kids out of the state, under assumed names for their own safety, she’d finally lost it. “You’re going to risk our lives because you’re digging around in a past you don’t even remember much of? Because you think your parents might have been drugged out hippie-freak devil worshippers? I don’t believe you! Why do you need to find out what happened to you as a kid now? Why can’t you just let it go? You haven’t so much as given a shit about your mother in over twenty years? Why are you letting her freak you out now? Why don’t you just let her go?”