Last Call (18 page)

She knows from knocking on doors that a Mexican family now lives in the house that the Ferrises used to live in, and from listening to Noah’s tapes last night, she remembers Sharon Ferris saying her parents moved up to Bakersfield after she got married, leaving her the house on Raymond Street.

Bailey had his DI checks sent to Ferris when she lived in L.A., and now the checks go to her in Bakersfield. Frank wonders if Antoine is close to his older sister, what their relationship is like. Why the sister and not his folks? What’s the bond there? Is she backing him where his parents won’t? What’s the hook? Frank has to find that out and work Ferris from that angle.

Ferris has two sons. She tracks one to Bakersfield, at an address not far from his mother. The second boy still lives in South Central and has accrued a variety of misdemeanors. Nothing serious and probably nothing worth riling his mother about. From the tone of Noah’s interviews, Frank decides Ferris isn’t friendly with the law but not openly hostile either. This gives Frank a slim edge and she drums the desk with her fingers. She hasn’t felt this good since she saw Izzy Miron putting his dolls to bed.

She spends most of the day garnering information about Bailey, his sister and their family. At end of watch she hits the highway, catching I-5 to Bakersfield. Traffic is stodgy and Frank listens to the Ferris tapes over and over.

Bailey’s story is consistent with his sister’s. It was rainy. They spent the day together watching TV and playing dominos. In the morning they got groceries. A checker from Ralph’s verified Bailey was in the store around ten that morning. She remembered because he was persistently and irritatingly macking on her. The next day he left town. He’d explained that his camper was near the site because he and Sharon had heard about some children getting killed and wanted to see for themselves. It was a shame. That’s why their parents had fled L.A. When crack hit the streets they couldn’t stand it anymore. They didn’t want to spend their old age worried about getting hit on the head and jacked for a Social Security check. Leaving Sharon and her kids with the house, they moved up north, back to their farming roots. Antoine stayed with his sister until her husband kicked him out for not carrying his weight. Antoine stayed with his folks until the father gave him his old pickup. Antoine had been living in it ever since.

“Duh, right there all along.”

She speaks aloud, wondering how many times she and Noah looked at the picture with Bailey’s truck in it. What shift in vision or altering of the cosmos allowed her to connect the dots? Why couldn’t either of them see the camper six days, six weeks or even six months ago? Why does it take six years for her to finally see it? Frank admits to tunnel vision with a van or SUV-type vehicle. She’d even allowed for a work truck but she associated campers with retirees or avid fishermen. Frank marvels at the hologram effect of clues. They can be hanging right in front of your face, but until you have a shift in perception you can’t see them.

She comes into Bakersfield around five o’clock and heads straight to Ferris’s address, noting only one car in the driveway. She finds a 7-Eleven near a Mickey D’s and buys two beers to wash down a Big Mac. She eats in her car then locks up and walks around the block, giving the Ferrises time to get home from work and have dinner. While she ambles, she considers Bailey’s relation to his sister. Taking in a store window gaudily displaying items for “$.99 or less!” Frank mutters, “How do we approach her?”

Frank hears herself and is embarrassed. She moves on, musing that she’s getting as bad as a street person. Yet she is dimly aware, and comforted, that the “we” included Noah.

The sun dips into the horizon and Frank returns to the Ferrises’ house. When she knocks on his door, Kevin Ferris doesn’t look surprised. She follows him into the kitchen where his wife is doing the dinner dishes. He may not have been surprised to see Frank, but Sharon Ferris is obviously startled.

Frank introduces herself, using the time to note how Ferris’s eyes dart back and forth between Frank and her husband, how she’s wringing the dishtowel.

“I see you’re busy,” Frank says amiably. “I won’t keep you long. Just a couple things I need to ask about your brother.”

“My brother?” A pulse starts jumping in Ferris’s throat.

“Antoine Bailey. He is your brother, correct?”

Ferris nods. She turns away, attacking a baking dish in the soapy water. “What’s he done?” she asks.

“Why do you think he’s done something wrong?”

Ferris glances sideways at Frank and shrugs. “Why else would you be here?”

“Do cops usually show up at your door asking about your brother?”

Ferris is silent but her husband asks, “Look, Lieutenant, what’s this all about?”

Frank nods but doesn’t answer. By keeping the Ferrises waiting for her response she maintains control of the conversation.

“All right,” she says at length, feigning cooperation. “I won’t beat around the bush with you. Antoine’s in trouble.”

Sharon Ferris stops scrubbing. “What kinda trouble?”

“He’s facing some pretty serious charges.”

“This got anything to do with them kids they found murdered?”

Bingo. It’s significant that after all this time, that’s the first trouble Ferris thinks of.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. It does.”

Ferris assumes a defensive posture, hips against the sink, crossed arms guarding her chest. “Antoine ain’t had nothin’ to do with that.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“When he come for his check. He’s on disability. He comes by once a month.”

“What was he driving?”

“Same as always. His truck.”

“Does he still live in it?”

Ferris nods.

“He still have the same camper shell on it?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes or no, Mrs. Ferris.”

“I don’t know.” She flaps a hand. “I think so. He ain’t said nothin’ about a new one. He ain’t got that kinda money.”

Giving no sign of her delight, Frank indicates a chair. “Can we sit?”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulls the chair out. Ferris grudgingly takes the opposite seat. Her husband remains propped against the wall. Frank chooses her seat knowing Ferris will sit as far from her as possible, thus placing Frank between Ferris and her husband. Aware of the bad blood between Kevin and his brother-in-law, Frank doesn’t expect Kevin to move to his wife’s defense. He hasn’t yet and he doesn’t now, compelling Sharon Ferris to face Frank as well as her own husband.

Frank focuses Sharon. “Going back to the day those children came up missing. You’re pretty insistent that Antoine had nothing to do with it. Tell me why.”

“He just didn’t.”

Frank flicks an indulgent smile. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that. Tell me about that day.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“God, no.” Frank fakes a laugh. “Nobody’s under arrest here. I’m just trying to find out what happened to those two kids. Trying to rebuild the day.”

“It was a long time ago. I can’t remember that far back.”

Frank reads a little from her notes to jog Ferris’s memory.

When Frank asks if that’s what happened, Ferris says, “If that’s what I said, then I guess it must be.”

“So he just hung on you the whole day. Never went to the bathroom, never went to his room.”

“He didn’t have no room. He slept in his truck.”

“So is it possible he went out there at some point in the afternoon?”

“Yeah, it’s possible.”

“Possible or he did?”

“I don’t know. He ain’t a two-year-old. I wasn’t watchin’ him all day.”

“So he could have spent some time out in his camper that day?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course he coulda.”

“Did he? Do you specifically remember him being with you every minute of that day?”

“No, he wasn’t with me
every
minute.”

“When wasn’t he with you?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“You just said he wasn’t with you every minute.”

“Well, it don’t make sense that a grown man would be hanging on his sister’s skirts all day. I mean, at least to relieve himself he wasn’t with me. Sheeshh.” She shakes her head.

Frank has noticed that Mrs. Ferris keeps a mean house. On her way in, she also noticed an ashtray by the front door. “Does your brother smoke, Mrs. Ferris?”

“Smoke?”

“Cigarettes. Does he smoke cigarettes?”

“Yeah, he smokes.”

“Pack a day? Haifa pack? Two packs?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a pack. Pack an’ a half.”

“You let him smoke in the house?”

“No, I do not. He and Kevin both have to go outside. I don’t like that stink in my house.”

“So when he visited you down south, did you make him go outside then, too?”

She offers a nod but nothing else.

“Man smoking a pack a day must have been outside a lot. It was pretty cold the day those kids were killed. Did you sit outside with him?”

Ferris shakes her head.

“So your brother was alone outside fairly regularly throughout the day.”

“I guess. That don’t mean he did nothing.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it also means you can’t protect him as much as you’d like to. There were considerable portions of the day that he wasn’t with you.” Frank leans forward to drive the knife in. “I know
he’s your younger brother. The good news is, he doesn’t have a prior history for this type of thing. We might still be able to help him if he’s willing to talk. I’m sure you want to help him and the best way to do that is by finally being honest. Tell me why you’re protecting him.”

Ferris’s eyes flit from Frank to her husband.

“He’s my baby brother.”

“And he’s a grown man. You just said so yourself. Why do you worry so much about him?”

She bristles. “I ain’t worried. Twan just always been different, is all. He’s always been sickly. Nervous-like. But he’s a
sweet
man. Brings me flowers every time he comes to collect his check.”

“How do you mean he’s nervous?”

“Like irritable. Like he lets little things get to him that wouldn’t bother regular folks.”

“Give me an example.”

“Like telling him what to do. He always take it the wrong way and get all up in your face about it. He’s sensitive, is all. Always has been. You just have to be careful how you talk to him.”

“Must’ve been hard for him when he was a kid.”

“Yeah, it was. He was skinny too. Other kids used to pick on him, beat him up regular like. Me and my other brother was always having to look out for him.”

“Did he have friends?”

“A couple here and there. None that ever lasted long. Like I said, he was nervous and it kinda made him hard to get along with.”

“How about now? Has he got any friends? Any buddies he hangs out with?”

“Nah, he ain’t got no regular friends.”

“Where’s he stay when he’s not with you?”

“Oh, he visits our parents. They’s over to Visalia now. He travels quite a lot. Likes to see things. He’s always telling how he was at Yosemite or this place or that. He’s smart. Twan likes history. Always watching the History Channel and visiting monuments and historic places. Places I ain’t never even heard of it, but he likes ‘em.”

Frank sits back, letting Ferris’s affection work for her. “What else does he like to do?”

“Oh, he can fix just about anything. I’m a liar if he didn’t rewire this whole house! And ain’t nothing with an engine gonna be broke for long if Twan around it. Ain’t that right, Kev?”

Behind Frank he grunts, “Uh-huh.”

“So he’s good with his hands.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ferris says with sisterly pride.

“How’s he take his coffee?”

“His coffee?” she echoes, derailed.

Frank nods.

“He likes cream and sugar.”

“Good.”

Frank moves on. She asks more questions, pushing the knife deeper and deeper into Bailey’s sister. At last she sits back and sighs dramatically. She fiddles with the pencil in her fingers. She doesn’t look at Ferris.

Finally the woman’s anxiety crescendos and she asks, “You think he did it? You think he killed them two children?”

Blowing noisily between puffed lips, Frank says, “Let me just say, if Twan was
my
brother, I’d be scared.”

Ferris starts to cry. After six years her defenses are finally breaking. Frank moves in for the kill. She rests a hand on the woman’s arm.

“Sharon. Your brother needs help. I know you’ve tried your best, but it’s out of your hands. This is too big for you. Antoine needs professional help. We’ve got a lot of evidence suggesting your brother was involved with those two children.”

Frank refrains from ugly words like
murdered
and
killed.
She stresses there is hope for Antoine. She plies Sharon’s weakness as a mother and responsible older sister.

“We also have a lot of evidence suggesting he didn’t
mean
to, that it was an accident. He’s never done anything like this before and as far as we know he hasn’t since. But he’s a ticking bomb, Sharon. Men like this can hold it inside for years before they act again, but we know, we see it over and over again, that sooner or later they’re bound to do this again. They can’t help themselves. Usually they don’t even want to, but it’s a compulsion. They can’t stop it, no matter how hard they try. No matter how much they hate what they’re doing. They can’t stop without help, and if this goes on much longer, it might be too late to help. Is that what you want? To know you could’ve helped Twan but you were too afraid?” Frank bends her head to Sharon’s, her voice a caress. “Is that how you’re gonna help your baby brother?”

Frank doesn’t move until Ferris sobs, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know. I know you don’t. That’s okay. You’ve done the very best you could do and it’s over now. You don’t have to keep trying. Turn it over to people who are trained to help him, who can deal with this kind of problem. That’s how you can help him now. It’s how you can love him and protect him.”

“It’s like you said, I know he didn’t mean to. I
know
it. It had to been some kinda accident. Whatever happened, I know Antoine didn’t mean it to. He’s a
good
boy.”