Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery (39 page)

“Keep me posted.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get the fuckers. What about on your end?”

“I filled him in on the information from Charlie.”

“Don’t discount that Winthrop guy just yet,” Tip said. “I told you there’s something wrong at work. All I need to bust it is five minutes with old Sanjay.”

“Okay, wrap that up, and I’ll give you ten minutes with him. Just make sure you get one of the kidnappers.” Before I hung up, I added. “Alive!”

He laughed. “See you, Gino.”

I hung up and focused on following Lonny, though it didn’t take much. He pulled into a construction site, a strip center with walls framed and a roof on. Not much else.

What the hell is he doing here?

Lonny parked his truck, got out, and walked around. I was about to turn into the lot when I realized there was no place to hide. I drove past, keeping my head turned in the opposite direction. Half a mile later, I made a u-turn and came back, pulling into a car wash across the street. He was still there, walking around and staring at…what? This was nothing but a construction site.

The issue of the wrong girl wouldn’t leave me alone.
How did they get the wrong girl?
That stuff didn’t happen with pros. If the kidnappers had been bungling idiots, okay, I’d buy it, but not these guys.
Unless they didn’t get the wrong girl.
Suppose it was Jada they were after all along. I tried to focus on that.

Why? Who would do that? Who would pay money for her? Scott wasn’t going to at first…so what changed his mind?

I remembered thinking how fake it had seemed when he changed his mind, how not worried he’d been about the whole thing. He seemed more worried when he thought he wasn’t going to get the money from the bank. Of course, that was when he thought it was Alexa who had been taken… Or was it?

What if he knew all along it was Jada?

I put my hands over my eyes to block out peripheral thoughts. My mind was a jumbled mess, like a fuckin’ grasshopper was in there bouncing around.

Think about this, think about that. Missing all that sleep didn’t help.

Nothing was connecting, and that made everything worse. I looked across the street at Lonny. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I’d had enough of it. I slammed the car into gear. It was time to find out what the fuck Lonny knew.

Chapter 58

Time to Own Up

L
onny walked through the building, looking for anything that could be a clue. This could have been the pour the concrete crew did, but if it was, where was the building the kidnappers used as base. He hadn’t seen anything useful from outside. If he remembered right, the sounds of the concrete trucks hadn’t been far from here. Either way, he was doing no good here. Maybe the next address would pan out. He walked outside, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. And he almost bumped into Detective Cataldi.

***

“Detective Cataldi, I didn’t see you.”

“Maybe you didn’t expect me.”

He tried laughing it off, but he was rattled. “Guess not.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just killing time. Taking my mind off things.”

“Bullshit!”

Lonny lost his smile, stared at me then tried walking past. I grabbed his arm, that big burly arm full of muscles.

“Not so fast. What are you doing here?”

“I already told you.”

“Killing time? While your daughter’s being held hostage?”

He turned to glare at me. “What can I do? You tell me.”

“That is
exactly
what I want to know. What do you think you can do? You’re out here for a reason. Maybe you think you can do something, make a difference, find Jada, find the kidnappers.” I let go of his arm and took a step closer. “All of that’s fine. I’m a father. I understand. What I
don’t
understand is why you came
here
. To
this
spot. What makes you think you can find her when we can’t? Do you
know
something?”

He gritted his teeth. His muscles tensed. “I know that some bunch of crazy fuckin’ crackers got my girl.”

“
Crackers,
you say. Got any reason to think that? Maybe they’re black or Latino. Why say
crackers
?”

His edge disappeared again. “Just saying it, that’s all.”

“Time is running out, Lonny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I walked in small circles, trying to figure out how to get through to this guy. I knew he was a good man, but something was wrong. “Lonny, I don’t know what’s going on, or what you’re into, but I’ve got a gut feeling you know something that will help us bring Jada home alive.”

“I don’t know shit.” His attitude was back, but underneath it, I saw the truth. He was scared. I decided to try a different tactic.

“My son almost died last year. When he was in the hospital, with tubes up his nose and down his throat, barely breathing, his blood pressure hardly registering… I told God I’d trade—straight up—me for my son. I asked Him to take me right then.” I paused, hoping some of the story would have an effect. “He did better than that. He delivered both of us.”

Now I switched tactics again, grabbing Lonny by the shirt. “Like I said, I don’t know what you’re into, what kind of trouble, but you have to decide if you’re willing to trade for Jada. And you have to do it
now.
”

Lonny remained silent for a long time. He squeezed his hands. Paced. Hung his head low.

“Now, Lonny! They could be raping her while you make up your mind.”

Lonny looked at me. His tears had already started. “My wife always said I’m a man who could make the necessary decisions.”

“Lucia is a wise woman.”

Lonny nodded, head hung even lower. “There was a group of us…”

Once he started spilling his guts, he didn’t stop. I absorbed what I could without taking notes; we could go back over it later. I discovered long ago that when a man confesses to something, which all but the worst of them want to do, he’s more willing to come back to it later. Unless a lawyer is involved.

As Lonny told me what had happened, it all came rushing into my head. The clues had been there. The way Lonny reacted when the kidnapper said
clear
on the tape. I originally thought it was him responding to the fact Jada was taken; now I knew it was because he recognized the one he called Boss.

And Lonny searching for the mysterious Willard. I made a mental note to follow up on that, see who he was. When Lonny finished, I led him toward the car. “You were at the Marshall house, right? They said there was a black man there.”

He nodded.

“And the poker games?” If he answered yes, I might not be able to contain myself.

“No, just the Marshalls’ and the house on Memorial.”

I wanted to beat his fucking brains out, but right now I needed him to get Jada. “Let’s go.” I wanted to tell him he’d have to answer for the Marshall boy dying, but I felt certain he knew that. That was probably why he hadn’t come forward earlier. “You did the right thing.” I had no trouble telling him that. I believed it. Sometimes I didn’t believe what I told people. Sometimes I didn’t feel right making arrests. Fact is, I was having a tough time keeping to my oath. The longer I was in this job, the more some of the laws irked me. The bad guys got away too often. That, I didn’t like.

I had to quit thinking these thoughts. When you tell yourself something isn’t wrong enough times, all of a sudden, it’s not. That was a dangerous thing in my job. I didn’t know if somebody famous had said that. If not, they should have. It was true.

“Detective, where are we going?”

“You said you had three addresses, right?”

He nodded.

“We’re going to the next one. I’m not going back to Winthrop’s house to face Lucia without Jada.”

Relief came over his face. “Just give me five minutes alone with them. Please?”

“You’re going to be in the car, mister. This isn’t a vigilante run.”

Lonny climbed in the front seat next to me. I got on the phone with Charlie. “I need to run some addresses.” I looked to Lonny, handed him a pad of paper. “Write them down.”

“Hold on,” he said, and got out of the car. He went to his truck, returning with a piece of paper. “All right here.”

I read Charlie the list. “What I need are any large buildings in the immediate vicinity of these addresses. I need ownership from tax records. Could be a farm with a barn, an abandoned warehouse, a store. Anything like that.”

“You got it, Gino. And by the way, Julie pulled up that Lone Star Recovery. It’s owned by a woman named…hold on…Susan Masterson. Has been for ten years.”

“Anything on her?”

“She used to be a cop. Then she got her PI license.”

“Nothing bad, though?”

“Not in the files.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Wait. Julie said for you to call. She has something.”

“Transfer me.”

He did, and Julie answered.

“Charlie said you had something,” I said.

“While I was running addresses, I plugged Winthrop’s into the system too. He had a break-in about a year ago.”

“When exactly?”

“Hang on,” she said, then put me on hold to the sounds of “Mr. Tambourine Man.” I was deeply involved with trying to decipher the hidden meaning of it—all songs from that era had hidden meanings—when she came back on. “A little over a year ago.”

“Home invasion or—”

“No, a run-of-the-mill burglary. He wasn’t home. They took jewelry and small amount of cash. That’s about it.”

“Okay, thanks. If you get anything else, call.” I hung up and called Tip. “What’s going on there?”

“
Nada
,
señor
. Scott came into the hotel, picked up the package, and sat in the lobby reading it, then walked up the stairs. He exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and went into room #424. Haven’t seen him since.”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Something’s not right.”

“All right. Keep me updated. And hey, Tip, you know an ex-cop named Masterson?”

“Sue Masterson?”

“That’s her.”

“She’s a PI now. Used to do a lot of work for our friend Mayor Rusty Johnson.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“Why? Where’d her name pop up?”

I told him about the connection.

“Gino, something’s there. Too many coincidences for there not to be.”

“I’m on my way.” Before I hung up, I said, “And, Tip, don’t try to speak Spanish. Stick to Texan or whatever the hell it is you speak.”

I made a u-turn in the middle of the road and punched the gas.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“We’ll get to those addresses later, Lonny. Right now, this is the better lead.”

“What kind of better lead?”

“This might be a person who can lead us to Jada.”

Chapter 59

The Last Witness

A
s I drove down the freeway at almost ninety—close to Tip-Denton speed—I wondered about a lot of things. Mostly though, I wondered how Lucia would take the news that her husband was going to jail for felony murder—if he didn’t get the needle. They did that shit in Texas—no messing around.

Twenty minutes later, I exited the freeway, slowing so my tires didn’t screech going into the little strip center. I parked out front. There were two doors. One said
Lone Star Recovery
. The other had no text.

“Stay in the car, Lonny. This is no shit.
Stay
in the car.”

“Aren’t you calling backup or something?”

“If you see me in trouble, call somebody.”

I went inside. The receptionist desk was empty, and it looked like it had been for a long time. Dust covered the seat and back of the chair. The keyboard too. No typing had been done on that since the place had opened. I checked my gun then walked slowly toward a door to the right.

“Anyone here?”

No answer.

“This is the police. Is anyone here?”

Again, no answer.

The door was open, so I stepped slowly, balanced on the balls of my feet. Gun in my hand. When I got to the adjoining door, I nudged it open and took a quick peek inside. Nobody. I walked in, checked out possible hiding places, then, when I felt sure it was empty, relaxed a little. In the closet was a large box filled with disposable phones—must have been fifty. Some had masking tape with names written in marker. I didn’t know what the hell that was about, but it couldn’t be good.