Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery (30 page)

Help, Daddy!

I
stared at the text they sent—a picture of Jada, naked and tied to a bed. Her face looked as if she’d been beaten. I prayed that was the worst of it.

Bad as that was, the worst part was yet to come. “Lonny, Lucia. You need to come in here.”

They ran to the kitchen. Connors stepped aside leaving room for them, and offered a seat to Lucia. She refused it, clutching Lonny’s hand so tight I could see the marks on it.

“What is it, Detective?” Her voice was remarkably calm for what I knew she must have felt.

“I want you to stay calm. Perhaps you should sit.”

“What’s wrong?” Lonny demanded. “Did something happen to Jada?”

“We don’t know anything yet, but…they sent this picture.” I swallowed hard and showed them the picture. Before long, instinct took over. This picture might have clues for us. “Connors, find me details in this pic. Maybe we can ID the motel. And see if we can get GPS on the pic.”

Connors printed a copy and set it on the table. He sent the pic to the techs to analyze. “They didn’t give us much. No quilts, no headboard. All we got is a bed. I don’t even have wall color here.”

I turned to the tech who got the pic. “Anything we can get from this picture?”

“I’ll send it downtown, but if they’re smart, they took it with an old dumb phone, or they scrubbed it, which means we won’t have shit.”

“Find something. We’ve
got
to find something.”

I probably let too much desperation show in that statement. Tears flowed out of Lucia as if a faucet had been turned on, hands covering her face as she walked in circles. Soon the cries turned to the keening of a person who’s lost everything. The kind you only hear when someone has died. It sent a cold shiver down my spine.

Lonny’s arms wrapped around her as he pulled her to him. He rubbed her back and whispered to her, but he was anything but calm. The muscles in his arms flexed; he had the look of a man who wanted to kill someone. I just wished I could put the kidnappers in a cage with him.
That
would be justice.

Mars poked his head in and looked at the picture then went to his parents, doing his best to console both of them. He seemed like a damn good kid. I was almost envious. Maybe I
was
envious. Lonny had a wife who reminded me of Mary and a couple of kids who seemed ideal.

For the millionth time, I wished I hadn’t taken this case. I didn’t want to be here any more than I had wanted to be with Betty Ming’s family when they brought her to the hospital that day so many years ago. The day she looked at me and cried. The words she said to me still haunted me at nights.

“Why didn’t you find me yesterday?”
she’d said.
“I was still a virgin then.”

I tried blocking my ears so I wouldn’t hear Lucia sobbing, anything but that. I fell apart whenever a woman cried. Or a kid. I could do a lot of things—sew myself up with stitches, pack mud in a wound to stop the bleeding, beat a man half to death for things he’d done wrong. I’d done all that and more. Kill a man in cold blood…I could do a lot of things, but listen to a woman suffer…not me. I folded like an old accordion.

Mars led his mother to a seat in the family room and sat next to her. Lonny came into the kitchen. In the ten or twelve steps it took for him to cross the room, I watched his tension build to a critical mass. He grabbed the phone from Connors’ hand, stared at the picture then…went berserk. He squeezed the phone, then twisted it, as if he could yank the photo out of there. Or shred it. A growl emerged from him, an animal sound that morphed into words I understood.

“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker!” He grabbed the back of the chair. The veins on the back of his hands bulged. I think he would have broken it if I hadn’t intervened, but then I found myself in danger. The man was a beast.

“You hear me? You’re dead. I’m gonna find you, and—”

“Calm down, Lonny. Take it easy.” I had my arms wrapped around him from behind, but he shrugged me off like I used to do to Ron when he was ten or twelve. “Connors! Anyone.”

Connors and one of the other guys came to my rescue, but Lonny was still too much. The chair went down, one of the spindles in the back snapping. I tried moving him away from the table and other things he might break.

Scott came in with Alexa and helped too. Then Lucia was there, her voice subduing him.

“Lonny Hackett!”

He started to settle down then stopped altogether. When she wrapped her arms around him, he fell to the floor in a heap, his head buried in his knees, arms wrapped around his head. “Look what they done to my baby. My fault. It’s all my fault.”

Lucia sat on the floor next to him. It was her turn to offer comfort. She was good at that.

I empathized with Lonny. Parents blamed themselves when something happened to their kids. It didn’t matter if it was truly their fault; they took the blame. I remember blaming myself for Ron’s troubles: bad grades, brushes with the law, the drugs.

The drugs most of all. In his case though, it
was
my fault. I wasn’t there for him after Mary died, and if ever a kid needs a parent, it’s right after they lose one. Not me. I wallowed in self-pity, wondering why God was making me suffer
.

I shot a look to Lonny, his head in Lucia’s lap, her stroking it. I recalled a strange reaction in him when listening to the original ransom call then his trip to the corner store and his search for the mysterious Willard. Now this. I tried imaging
why
he would blame himself for a kidnapping.
How
could this have been his fault? I didn’t have an answer, but I tucked the question in the back of my head. There was too much grief to bring it up now, but sooner or later Lonny had to answer to me for this, especially the Willard thing.

Does Lonny owe him money? Are drugs involved?

I shook my head to refocus. I needed to bring Jada back first…then I’d get to the bottom of the other questions.

“Oh God, Daddy. It’s Jada. Look!”

I spun around to see Alexa, the drama queen, staring at the photo. I rushed to her and Scott. “How about we take this outside? They don’t need to hear this.”

Scott acknowledged my words and led Alexa to the front door.

***

Alexa hadn’t stopped crying since she saw the picture. Scott held her, kissing her head. “She’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”

“How will she be all right?”

“I’m sure Detective Cataldi will catch them.”

She broke off from the embrace, stared up at her father with hard eyes. “Did you
see
that picture? You know what they probably did? She’ll
never
be all right after this.”

Scott nodded. There was nothing for him to say.

“Why can’t you do something about it, Daddy?”

“Like what?”

“Give them the money.”

“That’s seven million dollars.”

“It’s only money. It’s not like you don’t have enough.”

“The money isn’t mine. It’s—”

“I know. It’s the bank’s money now, but it’ll be yours soon.”

Frustrated, Scott started to walk away. “You have no concept of money, or of the work it takes to make it. Everything is given to you.” He paced. “Not for long, though. There are going to be changes around here.”

Alexa pointed her finger at him. “And you have no concept of what it’s like to have a friend. A real friend like Jada. She listens to me. She helps me out when I have problems.”

“You should have stayed with your mother.”

Alexa was crying again. “I wish I had. At least she cared about my friends.”

“Cared about your friends? She didn’t even care about
you
. She’s the one who called me, begging me to take you.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, Alexa. I’m not. Ask her yourself.”

Alexa stared at her father for a few seconds. “Thanks for telling me, Dad. It makes me feel
so
good.” Then she burst into tears. She stormed into the house, slamming the door so hard that Scott thought the etched glass might break. Now Scott had one more thing to worry about. He’d thought he was done with the ransom issue, had made up his mind that he couldn’t do it. But everyone seemed allied against him—Alexa, the detective, and, of course, the Hacketts. They never said anything specific, but he could see the accusations in their eyes and almost hear it in their voices whenever the subject of the ransom was raised. What the hell did they expect from him? It was seven million dollars.

***

I watched Alexa storm by, followed a moment later by Scott. I had no idea what that was about. When parents and kids are involved anything could trigger an argument, from the simplest to the most complex problems. The emotions seemed the same regardless of the degree. The Hacketts were still in the other room, almost in mourning. And I was holding down the fort in the kitchen, armed with coffee—good coffee—and nothing else. No clues. No idea where to go next. And no ransom money. That last hurt the most. I had no idea how we were going to save that girl without the ransom.

Unless we get lucky with the motel.

I looked at the picture again. The text underneath it said.

We’ll call soon.

Once again I got that sickening feeling of letting the Hacketts down. I hadn’t wanted this case to begin with. I hated kidnappings. Now I’d fucked up good, and that mistake was gonna cost. The longer Jada stayed with the kidnappers, the chances of her being raped or killed soared. It would take a miracle for her to come out of this even close to normal. Lonny Hackett should be blaming me, not himself. And God knew I didn’t need this. The nights weren’t long enough for me to cram more nightmares into them.

Chapter 44

Like Father, Like Son

M
ars gritted teeth as he watched his mother fall apart. When his father cried, he turned his head, struggling to control the anger building inside him. He had a lot of his mother’s genes, and they worked to keep him focused. Mars said all the right things to his dad, made a few jokes about what Jada was probably thinking, and then insisted that when they caught the bad guys, he’d take care of them.

“You’re getting too old, Old Man,” he said. “You need to let the young blood handle the tough jobs.”

Inside though, anger kept building, and Mars was running out of places to stash it. Sooner or later, he’d have to let it go; he also had a lot of his father’s genes in him.

Besides what was happening to his parents, Mars had his own emotions to resolve. Seeing Jada like that… He swore right then that he’d kill the fuckers who did this if he found them. No fancy lawyers would ever get a chance with them.

Once his parents were doing better, he slipped into the kitchen, took the keys from his mother’s purse, and slipped out the door. Half a block away, he was already on the phone. The first person he called was Justin, a kid whose allowance was probably more than what Mars’ father made in a month, but he did his best to dress like he’d just escaped the slums. And he paid damn good money for that privilege. Justin answered right away. He always did. No one called him.

“S’up, dude?”

“Stop trying to talk like you’re black. I don’t even talk like that, and I
am
black.”

A pause, then, “What’s up, Mars?”

“Have you seen Jason Rules today?”

“Jason? The fuck you want him for?”

Mars sighed. “Did you forget the ‘what’ in that sentence? Have you seen him or not?”

“Down by the mall a little while ago. Him and all his boys.”

“Thanks.”

“What you want Jason for?”

“I’ll tell you later. Gotta go.”

On the way to the mall, Mars thought of all the fun times he and Jada had growing up. Of all the things she’d done for him over the years—helping him with homework, teaching him to dance, the crucial advice she gave about girls. She’d always been there for him. It was time for Mars to be there for her.

He pulled into the parking lot where Jason and his crew normally hung out. No sign of them, not even empty beer cans to indicate that they had recently left. Mars headed out the back side of the mall and drove down to Whataburger, another likely hangout. Again, no Jason. He tried a park where they sometimes went, and when that didn’t pan out, a strip center that was almost abandoned. Bingo! There was Jason with his whole crew, hanging out and acting tough.

Those detectives had said they’d questioned Jason, but Jason would never tell the cops anything. That wasn’t the way he played the game. He and his “boys” dreamed of being gangstas, did everything they could to pretend they already were. The way Mars saw it, they were a bunch of punks living off the adoration of the sheep at school who thought they were cool. Jada and her friends included.

Mars didn’t know shit about this detective stuff, but he figured he could ask questions. He pulled alongside of Jason’s truck and got out. Jason didn’t acknowledge him, but they had never had a friendly relationship, and Mars was almost two years younger.