Facing the Future (2 page)

L
IONEL
had the same fear Judd had, and at about the same time. As he sat at Judd’s house with Ryan, waiting to hear how everything would turn out, he suddenly wondered whether Talia might figure this all out and spill the beans to her brother and LeRoy. She was not a dumb woman.

Lionel stood quickly. “I gotta get going,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Ryan said. “You’re not leaving me here alone.”

“I have to, but just for a little while.”

“No!”

“Yes! Now just wait here for me.”

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

“If you have to know, I’m going to my house.”

“What for? What if LeRoy and Cornelius are still there?”

“They won’t be.”

“You don’t know that, Lionel. You’re going to spook them!”

Lionel hesitated. “I think they’ll be gone by now.”

“You’d better check. Why not call them?”

Lionel thought a minute. “Good idea,” he said. And he saw Ryan beam. Talia answered the phone. “Hey, Talia,” he said.

“Lionel?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s up?”

“Thought I’d come and talk to you.”

“Come on ahead. Nobody here but me.”

“Really?”

Now Lionel didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t really wanted to talk to her. He had just wanted to distract her, to keep her from saying anything to LeRoy and Cornelius in case she had realized that they were being set up. It sounded as if she had never given that a thought.

“Yeah, come on over. I’m real sorry about André. You and your friends think LeRoy killed him.”

“What do you think, Talia?”

“I don’t want to think about it. I couldn’t stand it if I thought LeRoy did something like that.”

“You think LeRoy’s never killed somebody before?”

“Not unless it was self-defense,” she said. “Anyway, I was in love with André, and LeRoy knew that.”

“Did André know it?”

“I hope so.”

“I don’t think he did,” Lionel said. “You did a good job of hiding it.”

Now she was crying. “Don’t remind me,” she said. “I was tryin’ to control him, that’s all. I figured if I made everything too easy for him, he would never do the right thing. André was a wild man, you know.”

“I know.”

“I wanted him to behave, to act right, to grow up, for me.”

“He was tryin’, I think. There at the end, I mean. Only somebody murdered him.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “He just died in that fire, that’s all.”

“Haven’t you seen the news, Talia? He was found with a bullet hole in his neck, and he wound up bleeding to death. The fire would have killed him, but we pulled him out of there. We knew he was bleeding, but we didn’t know why or where from. If we knew, we might have been able to stop the bleeding and save him.”

“I’m sorry, Lionel.”

“That LeRoy did this?”

“I’m not sayin’ that.”

“I am. How come you’re alone there anyway?”

“LeRoy and Connie are in Chicago.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Some insurance thing. We’re gonna be rich, so they tell me.”

“I can’t come over then, because I wouldn’t want to be there when they get back.”

“I think they’re going to let you live here with us when they get a little money.”

“And how are they getting this money?”

“Insurance, like I told you. It was Connie’s apartment that burned, you know.”

“How does that work? The insurance, I mean.”

“I have no idea. All I know is that my brother was insured and he lost his apartment, so that’s that.”

“How much is it worth?”

“I don’t know. Enough for them to risk going back into Chicago when lots of people, and the cops, are looking for them there.”

“Why are the cops looking for them?”

“Lots of reasons. I wish they wouldn’t go down there for a while, but when they smell money . . .”

“But you don’t know how much?”

“All I know is that it’s a lot, because they have to come there in person.”

Lionel realized how strange this conversation was. Talia would be looking for some place to live tomorrow. Should he let her stay in his home, where she was now? No, that wouldn’t be good. She had moved in with her brother and his friend, knowing they were up to no good, knowing it was wrong, and knowing it couldn’t last. She would probably be arrested and held until the police determined whether she was in on any of the illegal stuff. Lionel didn’t think she was.

“Well, I’ll see you, Talia.”

“You’re not coming over?”

“Not tonight,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you soon.”

Lionel knew he would.

As soon as Judd and Vicki walked in the door of the storefront with “Thomas Fogarty, Attorney at Law” painted on the window, Tom Fogarty took them to the back, out of sight. He had the answering machine with him. “Here,” he said to Vicki, pointing to a chair. “I need you to record a message.”

As Fogarty was writing it out, Vicki asked what it was all about.

“It’s important in a sting to play hard to get,” the sergeant said. “If everything looks too easy for the mark—that’s what we call the victim of the sting—he gets suspicious and might be scared off. We have to get these guys to come to us and keep after us until we arrest them.”

Vicki recorded the script. “You have reached the law offices of Thomas Fogarty. We will be back in the office tomorrow. Please leave a message after the tone. Thank you.”

“Won’t this just make them mad and make them not show up?” she asked.

“The opposite. I’ll be listening in. If they just seem mad and ready to hang up, I’ll pick up and tell them I was just in for a second and heard their call. If they threaten to come and break in if no one’s here, I’ll let ’em. Once they get here, I’ll pretend to be unable to find their file or their check, and you can bet I’ll make them identify themselves thoroughly. They’ll be working so hard to convince me they are who they say they are that they’ll forget about any doubts they’ve had.”

The other police officers came through the back, and Fogarty briefed everyone on where to be and what to do. Judd was so excited he could hardly stand it. The answering machine was hooked back up to the phone, and Fogarty turned around the Open/Closed sign in the window to indicate his office was closed. The phony secretary’s desk was just messy enough to look real, and, of course, the chair was empty.

When everyone was in place, they waited.

“What makes you think they’ll call?” Vicki asked.

“They’re eager. They want to make sure we’re here and that everything is ready for them. If they don’t call, that’s OK too.”

But they did.

Sergeant Fogarty set the answering machine to pick up on the fourth ring, only prolonging their agony. As soon as the message started to play, Fogarty, the other cops, and Judd and Vicki heard LeRoy and Cornelius whining in the background.

LeRoy swore. “Oh, man, Connie! They can’t be closed! What is this?”

At the tone, LeRoy yelled into the phone, “My name is Banks, and I had an appointment, so you better be in there when I get there!”

Judd was afraid Fogarty would be disappointed because he couldn’t get on in time to tell LeRoy he would be there. But Fogarty apparently felt things were going perfectly. “He said ‘when I get there,’ ” Fogarty said. “They’re still coming. He’ll probably call one more time when they get close.”

They waited several more minutes, and sure enough, the phone rang again. Same message. Same anger.

“If you ain’t there when we get there, we gon’ trash your office!” LeRoy shouted. “Now you should be expecting us! Don’t make us break in there!”

Fogarty smiled.

Not long later, with everyone hidden, they heard the roadster slide up to the curb. LeRoy and Cornelius climbed out, looking enraged. They came up to the window and peered inside, and Judd heard LeRoy shouting and swearing all the way from inside. Cornelius had his hand in his belt, as if on a weapon.

LeRoy hurried to the car and popped the trunk, pulling out a long metal rod. He approached the storefront with it in two hands, like a baseball bat. With that, Tom Fogarty grabbed a file folder and walked out from the back room into the front office, not looking up, as if he was unaware anyone was even there.

LeRoy saw him and quickly held the rod out of sight behind his back. “Hey!” he hollered. “You open?”

Fogarty approached the locked door. “No! Sorry! Tomorrow!”

“I had an appointment!” LeRoy shouted.

“Today?”

“Yes! Today! Now let me in!”

Tom went to the secretary’s desk and looked at the calendar, then slapped himself in the head, looking embarrassed and apologetic, and hurried to the door. Cornelius stepped in front of LeRoy as LeRoy skipped back to the car and tossed the metal rod in the backseat. “Now we’re in business,” Cornelius said.

Sergeant Fogarty had LeRoy and Cornelius right where he wanted them.

R
YAN
Daley was glad Lionel had decided not to go to his own home, where Talia Grey was alone. Ryan knew Lionel had intended to go without him, and Ryan had been left alone enough. It wasn’t just that he was afraid, though that was a large part. But there was nothing to be afraid of at Judd’s house. As far as he knew, none of the people who had invaded Lionel’s house even knew about Judd or his place. Ryan felt safe enough there.

But also, Ryan had no brothers or sisters. He and his parents had been the extent of his family, and he’d had enough alone time when they were alive. That’s why he had spent so much time with Raymie Steele, who had also disappeared in the vanishings.

Ryan was slowly adjusting to the fact that his parents were gone. They were still on his mind almost every minute of the day, and he often woke up between midnight and dawn, wishing this were all just a bad dream from which he would soon wake up. He had cried until he was sure there were no more tears, and then cried some more. He was embarrassed about that, being the youngest and noticing that the others didn’t seem to cry much. But one night he had woken up with his sad thoughts and heard two of the others—he guessed Vicki and Lionel—sobbing in their beds too.

There was nothing wrong with that. What could be worse than losing your parents? Only missing out on going to heaven with them, Ryan figured. He put out of his mind the fact that his parents had not been Christians and that unless something very strange and very quick had happened before they died, it was likely they weren’t in heaven now.

Ryan wandered into the kitchen, where he found Lionel eating a sandwich. “Want something?” Lionel asked, his mouth full.

“Nah. Just bored.”

“Wish we were down there for the sting,” Lionel said. “I want to see LeRoy get his.”

Ryan nodded, and the phone rang. It was Talia. “For you,” Ryan said. Lionel had given her his number the night she had driven him to see André.

Lionel pointed at the rest of his sandwich and nodded, and Ryan decided he was hungry after all. He finished the sandwich while Lionel talked with Talia.

Vicki Byrne had been involved in a lot of mischief in her young life, but she decided this was about as exciting and scary as anything she had ever done. She was crouched behind a low table next to Judd. They were in a perfect position to peek over the top and through a huge one-way mirror that gave them a view of the entire storefront and front door. They could hear perfectly because the whole meeting was being taped in that same room by the police. The storefront was full of hidden microphones so Sergeant Fogarty wouldn’t have to wear a wire, as the police called it. In case the bad guys got suspicious and searched him, he would be clean.

Vicki watched as Fogarty unlocked the front door but opened it only a few inches.

“You can see there that we had an appointment,” LeRoy said, attempting to come in.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. It does say that on the calendar, if you are . . . ?”

“Banks. Banks and Grey.”

“Yes, but Miss Diablo must have made a mistake. She knew I was off today.”

“But you’re here and we’re here, so let’s get this done.”

“Well, I’d like to, but I have to be in court in half an hour and—”

“This ain’t gonna take no half hour. We were told you had a check for us, and that’s all we need.”

“Really, gentlemen,” Fogarty said, still standing inside the slightly opened door, “this would be much more convenient tomorrow or next week—”

“No!” LeRoy said. “Now we’re here and you’re here and we know you’ve got a check for us, so let’s do this.” He pushed his way past Fogarty, and he and Cornelius planted themselves in chairs at the side of the secretary’s desk.

Fogarty was playing his part to the hilt. “To tell you the truth, gentlemen, I’m going to need you to refresh me on what this is all about.”

LeRoy let his head roll back and he sighed as he stared at the ceiling. “Connie here, that’s Cornelius Grey, he rents an apartment, well, he did anyway, on Halsted. It burned down.”

“Oh yes, and this is about the insurance settlement then,” Fogarty said.

“Exactly.”

“And what is your stake in this, Mr., ah . . . ?”

“Banks. LeRoy Banks. I’ve been paying the rent for Mr. Grey here for several months, so—”

“And why was that?”

“What business is that of yours?”

“Oh, none, I guess. Proceed.”

“Proceed?
You
proceed. Your secretary said she had a big check for us, so let’s have it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Were you expecting the check itself today?”

“Of course! That’s why we’re here!”

“Well, this initial meeting was just for paperwork, signatures, identification, that type of a thing.”

“So, we’ll sign some papers. Let’s get on with it.”

“Well, the documents have to be forwarded to the home office for verification, and then the check can be released.”

“So you’re saying the check hasn’t even been written yet? It’s not here, like she said?”

“Oh, it’s here, but if it’s released before everything is verified by the home office, then I’m in trouble.”

“You know what, Mr. Fogarty,” LeRoy said, his face clouded with rage, “you’re gonna be in trouble with somebody when we leave here, and you better hope it’s the home office.”

“But I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You give us that check based on our word that we are who we say we are, and you deal with the home office yourself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t—”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Lawyer Man. We’re not negotiatin’. We’re walkin’ out of here with the check.”

Fogarty gulped and looked for the file. Vicki was impressed that there was an actual check in the folder. “OK,” he said, “just let me see some ID so I’m covered.”

Banks and Grey reached for their wallets and produced driver’s licenses. Fogarty made a big show of meticulously copying down every detail. “Now, the check,” LeRoy demanded.

“This is really highly irregular,” Fogarty said.

LeRoy closed his eyes as if struggling for a last sliver of patience. “Just hand it over,” he said.

Fogarty handed it to him, and LeRoy glanced at the figure. He smiled and showed it to Cornelius, then began folding it. Vicki noticed three cops a few feet from her, guns drawn, preparing to burst from the back room. “Hey,” Cornelius Grey said, “wait a minute. What’s that say?”

LeRoy had stood and was shoving the folded check into his pocket when he pulled it back out and studied it. Where his or Grey’s name was supposed to be were the words
You’re under arrest.

“What?”

Fogarty flashed a badge from his pocket, “LeRoy Banks, you’re under arrest for the murder of André Dupree and for arson in the case of—”

LeRoy and Cornelius were reaching for their weapons when the cops rushed in. “Don’t even think about it!” one shouted, and the two were disarmed, handcuffed, and led away. Vicki decided it was one of the coolest things she had ever seen.

While Banks and Grey were being read their rights, Vicki heard another police officer on a walkie-talkie telling someone else to “move on Talia Grey.”

Lionel stood in the kitchen of Judd Thompson’s house, watching Ryan finish the rest of his sandwich. Lionel talked with Talia Grey on the phone, wondering what in the world she was so excited about.

“This is the weirdest thing,” she said. “You have to see this. Maybe you’ve already seen it.”

“What, what?”

“It’s a videotape. Connie said it was in the VCR he ripped off from a house not too far from here. Guy on the tape says he’s pastor of New Hope Church or somethin’ and that if we’re watchin’ this, it’s because he’s gone. He’s tellin’ all the stuff we must be going through, and he’s explainin’ what happened, just like what my mamma used to tell me. This is so cool!”

“Yeah, I
have
seen it,” Lionel said. “Like I told you before, I was the only person in my family who wasn’t a believer. That’s why I was left behind.”

“Me too, I guess,” Talia said sadly.

“You can do something about that, you know,” Lionel said.

“Um-hm,” she said, but from the background Lionel heard a doorbell and a loud knock. He recognized the doorbell as the one at his house, where Talia was. “Jes’ a minute, Lionel,” she said, and he heard rustling, as if she had slid the cellular telephone into a pocket. She had left it on.

As Lionel heard her walk through the house toward the door, he heard the shout, from a woman police officer. “Police, ma’am, open up!”

“I’m coming!” Talia managed. “Did something happen to—?” But her question was drowned out by louder banging on the door. “All right!” she said.

Lionel stood transfixed on the phone, listening as she opened the door.

“Talia Grey?” the policewoman asked.

“Yes! What—?”

“Miss Grey, you’re under arrest for—”

“What? Under arrest? What’d I—?”

“For home invasion, burglary, accessory to murder. . . .”

“What? No! I don’t know anything about—”

She grabbed her phone. “Lionel! Help! I’m being arrested.”

Lionel wanted to tell her there was nothing he could do for her and that actually he was glad she was being dragged from his house. Maybe he could go home soon. But someone grabbed her phone and said, “Who’s this?”

“Lionel Washington,” he said. “You’re at my house.”

“Does Talia Grey have permission to be here?”

“No.”

“And you’re working with Fogarty?”

“Sort of.”

“Thank you, son.”

“Thank
you!”
Lionel said. And he decided life was crazy.

Judd was fascinated with how cops celebrated a sting that had worked well. They seemed unable to stop grinning. Fogarty and two others he had apparently known from his days in Homicide took Vicki and Judd to a coffee shop, where they sat reminiscing and congratulating each other. Everyone was impressed with the plan Judd had come up with, the performance by Vicki on the phone, and especially Fogarty’s acting. “You sucked them right in,” the older of his cohorts said. “You’ll be back in Homicide in no time.”

“That’s what I want,” Fogarty said. “But the way I hear it, most of you guys have been working double shifts, just like the rest of us working stiffs.”