Sins of the Fathers (35 page)

“What’s wrong?” Lindy asked.

“He called me last night.”

“Who?”

“Travis.”

“Oh yeah? Realized how good he had it, did he?”

Roxy’s eyes watered as she went for a chair. Cardozo, who had been lounging there, jumped out of harm’s way.

“What is it, Roxy?”

“He said he can’t see me anymore.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Who cares? He doesn’t want to.”

“How do you know?”

“Come on, Lindy! We know when a guy’s giving us the backhand. You can hear it in their voice.”

“What did he say, exactly?”

“That he
can
’
t
see me anymore. That he’s got a major
project
that will require
all
his attention. Yeah, I’d like to see what color hair his major project has.”

“What about church?”

“He hasn’t been there. How’s that for a kick in the mush pot?”

“What exactly did you know about this guy, Rox?”

“I told you—”

“No. How did you meet him? I’m curious about that.”

“We met. What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t know. This guy shows up in your life all of a sudden, then drops out. Gives us his story. How do we know anything he said was true?”

Roxy started to frown. “You saying I was conned?”

“I’m saying I don’t
know.
”

“It’s almost enough to put me back on the stuff.”

“Shut up,” Lindy said. “Don’t go relapse on me. You stay strong.”

“Why are all the good guys in L.A. unavailable or gay or dead?” She put her hand to her mouth. “Sorry, Lindy.”

“Forget it.”

They sat in silence. Cardozo jumped in Lindy’s lap. She put him back down. Her cell went off and she looked at the screen.

It was an unknown number. “Lindy Field.”

“Hey, you shoulda leaned into the curve.”

“Who is this?”

“A hog is not a toy.”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Again, who is this?”

“You don’t remember your gun-toting Harley friend?”

“Wolf?”

“You remembered my name. You can bet I remember yours. Saw a thing on the news about you running your bike over a cliff.”

“Sure. Why are—”

“You all right?”

“I’m in good shape for the shape I’m in. My hog isn’t so good.”

“Now that’s sad.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.”

“You said to call if anything came up. I think something’s up.”

“Yes.”

“Michael—what did you say his real name was?”

“Drake DiCinni.”

“Yeah. He beat up Alice. After she took him in like a stray. I’m gonna blow his head off next time I see him.”

Lindy was beginning to detect a theme here. “My advice to you is stop thinking about heads and blowing them up.”

“Not why I called. He took off, and Alice told me he was trying to get back with his old lady. She told me who that is.”

Lindy almost jumped. “You know who?”

“And where.”

“Tell me, please.”

A pause. “Maybe we can make a deal.”

Deal?
“Wolf, just tell me—”

“My brother’s in the slam. He didn’t do what they said he did. They planted the meth on him. He can’t get a lawyer to help him do an appeal.”

“There are indigent defense—”

“Would you talk to him?”

Darren DiCinni’s fate dangled in front of her like a bowling ball on twine. Any moment it could drop for good.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him. I can’t promise—”

“You’ll like him. He’s a lot like me.”

“Can we get back to—”

“Only not as friendly. But being in the joint’ll do that.”

“I understand. Who and where is Drake’s woman?”

“I’m gonna hold you to this.”

“Fine!”

“Her name is Charlene Little. She’s a checker at a Wal-Mart in Duarte.”

2.

The blue-vested Wal-Mart employee (his badge read Skip) greeted Lindy and Roxy. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“I’m looking for Charlene. Is she working today?”

“Charlene? Oh, I think I know who you mean. You a friend of hers?”

Lindy didn’t blink. “At the moment, she’s my favorite checker.”

“Oh. Fine. Yes. Let me see. Oh, that’s her.” He pointed down to a register.

Charlene was a little thing.
Mousy
was the term Lindy’s mother might have used. She had long, straight, rust-colored hair that hung down as if exhausted to her shoulders. Her face didn’t hold much joy as she scanned items for checkout.

Someday a robot would be doing this, Lindy thought.

She got in the line with Roxy and picked out a pack of orange Tic-Tacs. The woman in front of her had a bottomless shopping cart. Finally, it was Lindy’s turn. She handed over the Tic-Tacs.

“Charlene?”

The girl, about thirty, said, “Yes?”

“I wonder if I might talk to you on your break. My name’s Lindy Field, and it’s about Drake.”

Charlene froze.

“I need to talk to you about him.”

“Why?”

“It’s a legal matter.”

Suddenly aware that other people were waiting in line, Charlene quickly scanned the Tic-Tacs.

“I’ll be waiting for you over at the Mickey D’s,” Lindy said. “I promise it won’t take too long.”

Charlene gave no answer. Roxy paid for the Tic-Tacs. They proceeded to the in-store McDonald’s and set up at one of the plastic booths, Roxy in a position to watch Charlene’s register.

“One nervous girl,” Roxy said.

“Scared,” Lindy said.

“Like us?”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy who tried to kill you, he’s still out there. Maybe it was Drake DiCinni.”

Lindy had thought of that, but the gears hadn’t meshed. “Why would he?”

“Because he’s nuts?”

“We don’t know that.”

“His kid is.”

“You saying it may run in the family?”

“I can think of weirder things.”

“Get us a couple of coffees,” Lindy said.

“McDonald’s coffee? Are
you
nuts?”

Lindy shot her a friendly glare. Roxy smiled, but it fell away from her face in an instant. She was looking over Lindy’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Roxy shot to her feet. “Our girl just ran out of the store.”

3.

“Mind if I join you?”

Leon Colby sat down on the stool next to Officer Kirby Glenn. Glenn was having a taco at the stand on Olvera Street, right where dispatch told Leon he would be.

Glenn looked surprised.

“What, the DA need some free advice?” Glenn said, a bit of lettuce hanging from his lip.

“Looks pretty good,” Colby said about the taco. He held up two fingers to the guy behind the counter and turned back to Glenn. “Gonna make you fat, though.”

The officer did not seem in any mood to chitchat. “Just grabbing something on the run. Then I gotta get out of here.”

“On duty, are you?”

“Soon enough. Keeping the city safe and all that. Just like you.” Glenn put the crumbling remnants of the taco shell into the wax paper in front of him. He licked his fingers then grabbed a wadded up napkin and wiped them. “You come all the way down here to check my diet?”

The taco guy plopped a wax-paper–lined red basket with two tacos in front of Colby. Colby reached for the little bottle of picante on the counter, unscrewed the top, and doused the top of his tacos with it. “I like to clear out the sinuses,” he said.

Glenn said nothing.

“Like to clear up my cases too.” Colby took a healthy bite of taco.

“That a fact? Seems to me the one you’re on is pretty clear.”

“I wish that was so, my friend. Wish that was so.” Colby dabbed at his chin with a paper napkin.

“What’s not clear about it?”

“Things around the edges. I just get a bad feeling about things around the edges, you know?”

Glenn looked as if he did not know, as if he didn’t want to know. In fact, Officer Kirby Glenn looked like he wanted to get out of there as fast as he could.

Which intrigued Colby. “What do you hear about the McIntyre killing?”

“Hear? Nothing. That’s RHD.”

“You know people. People say things.”

Glenn shrugged and pushed the basket with his taco remnants to the side. “People say a lot of things. I don’t always listen.”

“So you hear anything on McIntyre?”

“Just what they say on TV. He was into some underworld stuff, right?”

“You tell me.”

“I told you, Colby, I don’t know anything other than what everybody else knows. What’s up with you?”

“I told you. Edges. McIntyre was on the edge of this DiCinni case. He had an interest. An interest that may have gotten him killed.”

“Or maybe it was totally unrelated.”

“Maybe. But that’s not clear.” Colby took another bite, savored it, let Glenn just sit there and watch him. Finally he said, “What’s your interest in DiCinni?”

“Don’t have any.”

“No?”

“I testified. That’s as far as it goes.”

“You puffed it.”

“I did what?”

“Puffed your testimony. You put in a little more than was there. You recall that?”

Glenn half-smiled. “Since when have you been fired up about that, Colby? That isn’t your rep.”

Colby didn’t have a response to that. He knew his rep, and he knew Glenn was right.

“Forget about it,” Colby said. He got up from the stool.

“Hey, Colby.”

“What?”

“Keep that rep clean, you know what I’m saying? Good things’ll happen.”

4.

Roxy had a pair of handcuffs on Charlene. Right there in the Wal-Mart parking lot. She had called Lindy on her cell phone to tell her she had the witness.

“Take those things off,” Lindy said. Charlene looked like a wide-eyed doe with one leg in a trap, looking into the business end of a hunting rifle.

“I had to convince her to stay,” Roxy said.

“When did you get those cuffs?”

“‘You never know’ is my motto.”

“She’s crazy,” Charlene said breathlessly.

“You’re a percipient witness,” Roxy said.“We will do the talking.”

Lindy shook her head. “I have to apologize for my associate. Take those cuffs off, Roxy.”

“She was trying to get away. She knows something.”

“The cuffs. Off.”

Roxy reluctantly unlocked the cuffs. She looked like she might have had some words with the Wal-Mart checker.

“It’s true you don’t have to talk to us,” Lindy said. “But it would help.”

“I know who you are,” Charlene said. “I seen you on the news. I can’t talk to you ’cause of what he’ll do if he finds out.”

“Drake?”

Charlene nodded.

“He beat you?”

“It’s none of your business. I just can’t talk about things.”

So she really was a doe looking into a hunter’s rifle. Only the rifle was in the hands of Drake DiCinni.

“You understand that anything you say to me will be held in confidence. Nobody has to know we talked.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you. I don’t know anything about the kid. Drake doesn’t care what happens to him . . .” She put her hand to her mouth.

“What does that mean? Charlene, tell me what you’re talking about.”

She shook her head violently.

“Listen to me, Charlene. Drake isn’t the only one who doesn’t care about Darren. Nobody in the world cares about Darren. Except me, Roxy, and one other lawyer. That’s it. That’s all he’s got. And if I don’t do something soon, he’s gonna end up in prison with a bunch of men who will take very bad advantage of him, if you know what I mean. I’m desperate here, and I need something, anything you can give me.”

Charlene shook a little, then looked at the sky. Lindy thought for a moment she might cry.

Lindy waited.

“It’s like this,” Charlene said. “Drake doesn’t want to have anything to do with the kid, okay? He told me so. He hates what happened. He said the kid was no good from the start. He did everything he could to make the kid do what he said. He did stuff to the kid that was stuff I wouldn’t do, but it wasn’t my place to say anything.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not gonna say.”

“Listen, if he beats you, you can get help,” Lindy said. “We can help you.” She handed her a business card. “This has my personal number on it.”