Silent Joe (23 page)

I felt my face warming with shame.

"It's okay, Joe. I'm not blaming you in any way. Please believe that."

I couldn't speak. Even then I couldn't admit my father's secrets to her, even though she must have known many of them, even though my face betrayed my knowledge.

"You were his son for that," she said, matter-of-factly. "Junior got prosperity. Glenn got happiness. You got the truth."

I looked down, eyes stinging. Lowered my hat brim a little to cut the glare and keep Mom from seeing my face.

"And then, Joe, I hate myself for being angry at him. I think of what happened and I can't believe I could add anger to all that pain and loss. But I am."

"I feel some of that too, Mom."

She looked at me a long time. "I'll bet you feel more anger at yourself, and at those men. And I'll bet you torment yourself over how it happened, how you could have avoided it."

"Yes."

"Oh, my sweet, silent Joe."

Silent. Mom's term of endearment.

"Stop," I said.

"You want vengeance, don't you?"

"Very much."

"Now, see . . . I'm angry at Will again, for putting you through this."

"No. Dad didn't kill Dad. We have to keep things straight. If we don't, we'll do something stupid and make it all worse."

"I know. I know."

I felt the warm June breeze on my face, thick with the salt air of the ocean. I was aware of each second going by. They weren't happy seconds, but I wanted them anyway.

"Joe, you know what I do sometimes, late at night? I can't sleep so I get up and drive. Just drive, anywhere. Like Will used to do. Not many people are out and about then. Makes me feel like I'm getting a head start. Though a head start on
what
I couldn't say."

"I told you you'd enjoy it."

"You were right."

At the grave we stood and looked at the fresh rectangle of sod now covering the earth. On top of the rise, a crew with a Bobcat dug a new hole. The groan of the engine said that life and death go on. You could see Catalina Island far out in the west, peeking through the haze. Gulls wheeled a squealed over the manicured green lawn.

The tombstone said simply:

Will Trona

1947-2001

Loving Husband and Father

Servant of the People

I felt close to my mother, standing there and looking at the grave. I was sharply aware of how alone we were, of how far away Will, Jr. and Glenn had gone pursuing their lives. As a mother, Mary Ann had always championed independence and self-reliance. She was always willing to trust me, give me responsibilities and freedoms. She was an inward person, slow to reveal her feelings. Impeccable manners. But I wondered now if her elegant stoicism was more of a burden than a help.

I took Mary Ann's hand. "Mom? Will told me you were blue
that
night. Blue again, he said. Is there anything I should know about that?"

She looked down at the grave and shook her head. Then she sighed and looked back up at me. "Let's talk about it in the car."

Half an hour later we were winding down from the cemetery hills, man in black waved to us at the gate.

"He was seeing someone. At the funeral I realized it was that pretty Mexican woman from Jaime's office. Not the first time he'd done that kind of thing. But you knew for years, didn't you?"

I was aware of four different "affairs" during the five years I was his driver, bodyguard, confidant, gopher, lackey and beard. Two were over within a month. Two went on longer. I suspected others.

"Yes."

"Did you ever look at me and think, Mom's just a big dumb blonde, too dumb to know when her own husband's unfaithful to her?"

"I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. I never understood why he'd spend time with anyone else. At first I thought you couldn't know. Then I knew you did."

"How?"

"The night you cried alone in your room. I'd seen a movie or read a book where the woman gets cheated on, cries alone in her room. It became clear to me. I think I was fourteen."

She laughed softly. "Well, that could have been any one of a number of cries."

I looked over at her. She smiled and I saw a tear roll out from under the rim of her glasses. Her voice was light and fragile, like it would break in a breeze. "I loved that man so much. But I hated him sometimes, too. It's my biggest regret, Joe, the biggest one I've ever had, that Will died with me hating him."

She put her hand on my arm and squeezed hard.

I went straight to jail. Didn't pass Go. I shot the breeze with Giant Mike Staich for a few minutes, hoping to get Sammy's attention. It worked. He called me over and waved me up closer to the bars. I got a little closer.

"Sands worked out," I said.

"Good-looking woman."

"Alex isn't calling in much."

"Maybe she's lonely. You can get a date with her."

"I wouldn't do that."

Sammy seemed to think about this. "They almost got Alex, twice."

"He's lucky."

"He's paranoid, too. It helps." Giant Mike piped up: "It's 'cause the Feds are so dumb."

"Speaking of lonely, how's Bernadette?"

He eyed me with sudden distrust. "She's fine. Why wouldn't she fine?"

"You brought up the lonely idea, not me."

Giant Mike: "She's lonely, Sammy. They all get lonely sooner or later. The prettier they are, the sooner."

"Shut up, Mike. You're annoying me again."

Sammy put both hands on the bars. The orange jail jumpsuit was little big on him. He looked like an infant standing up in his crib. "You want a date with Bernadette?"

"No. I was thinking I could look in on her, if you wanted. Just make sure she was doing okay."

Sammy stared at me, confusion spreading across his face. "Why would you do that?"

"You helped me. I'll help you."

"I asked you for the good rat trap."

"I can't give you a good rat trap. Custodian’s going to set some bait in the heater ducts."

Giant Mike Staich again: "The rats'll die and stink."

"The rat's in my cell, not the heater ducts," said Sammy.

"It's using the ducts to get in and out."

"If I had my own spring trap I could catch him."

"There's no way I can get you a spring trap. They're not permitted. You could sharpen up the parts, make a shank."

Sammy pouted.

"I made my own rat trap once," said Staich. "When I was in second grade."

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Age, what—sixteen?"

"I'd pinch your gook head if I had a chance."

"Thank God for Mod J. But it's amazing what I put up with around here. Rats and stupid people."

Giant Mike: "Hang yourself up, man."

"Mike, I have no shoelaces, no belt, and a camera watching everything I do."

Mike: "Swallow your tongue."

"The gag reflex prevents suicide. Shut up, Mike. Please. I can't even think when you talk. The IQ of the module drops when you open your mouth."

Mike: "Don't take a genius to know she's lonely. She's lonely."

Sammy watched me, pushed off from the bars and sat on his cot. He looked up at her picture.

"Well, you won't be here much longer, Sammy. You're going to trial soon, then you either walk or get a ticket to prison."

He shook his head. "I'll walk. I'm innocent. And I believe in America, I believe in this system."

"Good luck, then, Sammy."

He looked up again at his picture of Bernadette. He jumped off the cot and came to the bars again, waving me toward him. I stepped up close, but didn't take my eyes off him.

"Try Bamboo 33. Just see if she's there. See if anybody's giving her trouble."

I nodded.

Giant Mike Staich: "She's lonely, Sammy. They all get lonely."

The word lonely stuck in my head and I thought of Ray Flatley of the Gang Interdiction Unit. I went over to the HQ building and dropped in on him, just to say hello. He had a picture on his wall, of him fishing. In the picture he stood far out in the river, and he had a long rod in the air, bent behind him like a huge whip. I asked him about it and he said the river was the Green, in Utah. He'd been fly fishing it for years.

He looked at the picture. "There's something about standing in a river. Things go through you. Things come out and drift away. Things come in. I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's not for everybody, The fish don't matter as much as theriver."

"I think I'd enjoy that," I said. We sat and talked a minute about the jail, the weather, the Angels. When we ran out of things to say, which didn't take long, I left.

I liked Ray. He reminded me of myself turned inside out. I'm not sure why I thought that talking to a fourth-year Sheriff Deputy-One would any way cheer Ray or improve his life. It probably didn't. But it's human nature, I guess, to believe you can cheer a guy up just by going to see him

J
ennifer Avila agreed to meet me at the HACF center that evening. I drove through the barrio, always abuzz, even more animated now with the longer days and the summer heat. Walking across the HACF parking lot I could smell grilling food mixed with the narcotic scent of a trumpet vine that hung over a near fence. Barbecue smoke rose from behind the big pale blossoms. Music. Voices. Laughter.

Jennifer met me at the back door and came out. She locked up and started around the building, boots crunching on the gravel.

"Can we walk?"

"I'd be happy to."

"Oh—I didn't even say hello, did I? Hello, Joe."

"Hello, Ms. Avila."

It was hard for me to look at her. Black hair and deep brown eyes and smooth skin and the dark lipstick she'd worn before her thing with my father. A modest yellow summer dress that couldn't begin to hide her wonderful shape. It was the first time I'd seen her arms.

The tips of my fingers tingled. I felt ashamed of my attraction, ashamed to betray my mother and father, even secretly. And angry with Jennifer too. For what she'd done with Will, and to Mary Ann.

Jennifer had The Unknown Thing. Will had seen it and I did, too.We walked up the busy street in the shade of awnings and magnolia

"What do you want, Joe?"

"I want to know how Will found Savannah Blazak."

"With help from us."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Alex Blazak did some business with the Raitt Street Boys and Lino 18th. We know people who used to be down for those gangs. So we just put the word out."

"What did you come up with?"

"A warehouse in Costa Mesa. A nightclub in Little Saigon—Bamboo 33. Some hotels. We told Will about them."

"Which one paid off?"

"The Ritz-Carlton. Will knew the GM. The GM told the bartenders keep an eye out for Alex. Alex and Savannah ate there late one night and the bartender called him."

"What night?"

"I don't know. Early in the week."

"I've seen the warehouse. And I think they were both there—Alex and Savannah."

She said nothing.

"Did you know what was in the tennis bag?"

She nodded. "It was ransom. One million dollars in cash."

"Why didn't Daniel give it directly to Will?"

"Warren had it. Jack wanted it left in neutral territory, like an escrow account. Daniel vouched for Jaime, so they brought it here, until the last minute."

I thought about Jaime being the holder of one million dollars that HACF could use. He was all but asking for some of it that night.

"Did Jaime know about the Lind Street apartment?"

She looked at me quickly. "I don't know."

"Did you?"

Again, just a flash of her dark eyes. She picked up her pace, like she could outwalk the question. "Why would I know?"

"Because lovers tell each other things."

"Stay out of my business."

"I can't."

"Look, I knew Will was making arrangements between Alex and the parents. He told me. I knew an apartment in Anaheim was some kind of pickup or drop-off. I didn't know more than that."

"How about the address?"

She shook her head.

Get Pearlita.