Cool in Tucson (17 page)

“…from Fry’s food store on Kolb Road,” the reporter said.  “Janine Lynch, the girl’s mother, has just reported a carjacking from the street in front of the store, and says that her child was in the backseat of the car.” He went on to report the appearance and license number of the car. 

Silently, with the speed of long practice, Sarah found shoes, clean shirt, weapon and shield.  Keys.  Purse.  She set the lock on her door, backed into the street in one clean surge and was rolling forward while the statistics of Denny’s weight and height still scrolled across her TV screen.

Grant Road
was nearly empty.  She put her flasher on, roaring east and then south onto Kolb Road.  Pulling into the Fry’s lot at Golf Links, she saw the TV crew packing equipment into the back of their van.  Two squad cars were parked just beyond it.  In one of them, Janine sat in the front passenger seat, twisting a handful of soggy tissue, talking to a patrolman in the seat beside her.  A second uniformed officer stood a few feet away, talking to a teenage boy wearing a Fry’s badge.    

Sarah parked in the first space she found and walked to the blue-and-white where Janine sat.  The officer behind the wheel was Arturo Mendoza, a good buddy during the year they both worked night shifts on adjoining sections of Midtown.  She tapped on his window.  When he rolled it down she said, “Hey, Artie.  You’re working east side now, huh?” 

“Oh, Sarah, yeah, I am,” he said, surprised.  “How come they called you out on this?  I thought you were in homicide now.”

“I am,” Sarah said.  “Janine’s my sister.”

“She is?  Well, how about that.”  He looked from one to another, puzzled by their expressions and body language.  Instead of hugging, the way most sisters would be doing by now, Sarah was staring at Janine like she was trying to guess what she had for lunch, and Janine looked like a small animal caught in a trap.

Then Janine exploded into sobs.  “Oh, Sissy,” she wailed, “I’m in an awful mess, somebody took my baby.”  She put her head back and closed her eyes. The lights from the store signs gleamed on the sweet curve of her wet cheeks and on her tousled blond hair.  She looked like a beautiful lost child herself.  Watching, Sarah thought,
She’s covering something
. 
Where the hell is Denny?

“She’s just been giving me Denny’s height and weight and so on,” Mendoza said, “and what she was wearing.  We put out an amber alert.” 

“I heard it,” Sarah said.  “Artie, is it okay if I just ask her a couple of questions?”

“Why, sure, go ahead,” Mendoza said.  “You want to—” he started to open his door but she shook her head, walked around the patrol car to Janine’s side and opened the door.  She put her hand on the top of Janine’s head and turned it so they were face to face. 

“Open your eyes,” she said.  When Janine’s reluctant eyes were looking into hers, she said, “Where’s Denny?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I’ve been saying for the last hour, didn’t anybody tell you?”

“
You
tell me.  Denny’s missing?  What happened?”

“Two guys jumped in my car right out in the street—“

“Which street?”

“What difference does it make?” Janine turned her imploring face toward Mendoza, who was watching the two of them, fascinated and uneasy. 

“Look at me, Janine.” 
The hell with secrets.
  “Which street?”

“Kolb Road, for God’s sake.  What’s the matter with you?”

“Where in the street?”

“At the light!  What are you trying to do to me?”

“What light?”

“You sound like you don’t believe me!”

“I believe you.  Which cross street was the light on?” 

“Whatever’s out there in front of the store.  I can’t think—Golf Links!”

“Were you already stopped at the light?”

“Of course I was stopped, it was a red light!  Are you
trying
to be mean, Sarah, or can’t you help yourself?” 

 “Were you going or coming?”

“From what?”

“The store, Janine.  Were you headed toward the store, or leaving it?”

“Oh.  Well—” Some terrible uncertainty crossed her face, but she gave her head a little shake, swallowed thoughtfully and said, “I was waiting to turn in.”

“Which way was your car headed?”

“I don’t—I was coming from Lurlene Street, so which way is that?  Toward the mountains—north, north!  God, Sarah, you sound like I’m the damn…suspect!”

 “Never mind how I sound.  Two men, is that what you said?”  Sarah glanced across at Mendoza and saw him nod.  “And they both had guns?”

“Yes!  Yes!”  Janine put her hands flat against the sides of her head, closed her eyes and began to cry again.  But just then the other patrolman, whose nameplate on his pocket said, “E. Merlin,” walked up to the car with the box boy following.  He stopped by Sarah, leaned down toward the open door and said, “Excuse me, Ms Lynch?”

Janine’s blue eyes popped open, streaming tears.  “What?”

“Ma’am, this is Eddie.  The boy that helped you before?  And he said to tell you he’s keeping your beer and stuff in the cooler in the back of the store.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ordinarily Hector was good at making up clever lies on the spur of the moment.  But having a strange kid sit up behind him like that, for a few seconds it kind of put a lock on his brain. These little eyes were staring at him in the noisy dusk, cars were roaring past him blowing their horns, and he had to decide right there in the middle of traffic what to say.  Or do? 
Throw the kid out.  

What was the penalty for throwing a kid out in traffic? 
Relax, fool, you already killed a man, what could be worse than that? 
 That thought settled him down, so he could think. 

“Your Mom, uh,” Hector said, vamping now, stalling for time till he could figure things out, “your Mom asked me to come out and move the car.”  He found a break in traffic and turned right on Stella Street.

“She met you in the store, huh?”  The small face flashed a mean little smirk.  What was that all about?  “Are you her new boyfriend?”

“Oh, well, not really.”  A little chuckle.  “I’m just a friend.”  Feeling his way; this was an odd child.

“Oh.”  The eyes studied him in the poor light.  “Let’s go back and get her now.  I’m hungry.”

“Ah, well, see, that’s just what she was worried about.” Hector smiled his shit-eating grin and jumped right on the clue. “She said go on out there and get you something good to eat.  So what would you like?”

The kid leaned forward, interested now, and a braid slid over one shoulder.  Good, a girl.  Girls scare easy. 

“A double bacon cheeseburger,” she said, watching him with measuring eyes, “and a large coke.” 

“We can do that,” Hector said. “Why not?  There’s a drive-in right around here, isn’t there?”

“Two blocks up Kolb road from the store,” Denny said.

“Which way’s up?”

“Uh…toward the mountains?”

“This place got a drive-in window?” 

“Yes.  Go right around there.”  She leaned over the seat to point and he saw how small her arms were.  She talked older, but she was younger than his youngest sister.  He could handle her easy, no sweat.  She was asking him now, “You’re not from around here, huh?”

“No, I live, uh, farther south.”  He’d get her some food, he decided.  Let her eat it while he drove up to Estes’ place, got his passport and visa and decided what to do next.  Might just put her back where he found her.  Get back in Ace’s car, go home and get his money and head out.  Easiest thing to do, no fighting, nothing tricky about it except getting back onto the Fry’s lot without being noticed.  That shouldn’t be too tough with so many cars around.  He still didn’t like the idea of taking Ace’s big showy car down to Ohio Street, but…well, he had a while to decide.

“There it is,” she pointed and he pulled in.  She unbuckled her seat belt and climbed into the front passenger seat while he was pulling into the drive-in lane.  He got concerned for a minute, his grocery bag was open and the gun and the money were right there in sight.  But she wasn’t looking at that, just staring ahead to the order window, asking, “Can I have some fries too?” 

“Sure,” Hector said.  “You good and hungry, huh?”  He reached over and kind of mashed down the top of the Trader Joe’s bag before he gave her order to the tinny voice that came over the speaker by his window.  Ordered a burger and coke for himself too while he was at it, and then remembered all his money was in the bag, so he had to open it up a little.  He didn’t look, just reached into the paper envelope and fished out a bill.  The car ahead of them got its order and moved, so he pulled up and paid.  When the attendant handed out the paper sack of food Hector handed it to the little girl so she could hold it while he parked.  She started digging for her sandwich right away.  Half starved and no manners, must be some Mama she had there in the store.

When he’d put his change in his pocket and parked the car he said, “Here, lemme have the sack.”  He unloaded the rest of the food onto the dashboard and spread the paper bag over the console between them like a picnic table, laid out his burger and her fries and put the drinks in the pull-out holder.  They sat together silently, eating, Hector thinking hard.  Was she going to raise a fuss about going to Estes’ house with him? 
Try it and see what happens
.  If he had to throw the kid out he’d do it, but it would be better to keep everything quiet right now.  He finished the last two bites of his burger, put the trash from his order back into the white paper sack it came in and started the motor.

“Gonna run up the street for a minute,” he said, “see a guy.” 

“We better stop and get Mom first,” the girl said. 

“No, she’s got some more stuff to buy, she said go ahead.”  He didn’t look at her but he said in a friendly way, “You’re okay to eat while I drive, right?”  He didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled right out into traffic.  She kind of rolled her eyes sideways at him but went on eating and drinking.  Looked like she wanted to get that food inside her before she argued about anything.

Soon as he was squared away in the flow of cars up Kolb Avenue, he dialed Estes.  A woman’s voice answered and he asked for Bernie.  She said he wasn’t there. 

“When’s he comin’ home?”

“Who’s this?”

Hector didn’t want to say his name with the kid sitting there.  “I’m a…customer.  S’posta pick up an order.  Didn’t he tell you about it?” 

“I just got home myself.”

“So you don’t know nothin’ about it, huh?”

“Sure don’t.”

“He said seven o’clock.  It’s after seven now.  When’s he gonna be back?”

“Look, I already said I don’t know.  Do you want to leave a message or don’t you?”

“Yeah.”  Hector chewed his lip.  “Tell him Hector called, and tell him—” he turned away from the little girl, who was busy sucking on her coke.  Talking into the window with his voice just above a whisper he said, “—tell him if I ain’t got my order by eight o’clock he’s gonna be one sorry sonofabitch.” 

He hit END, dropped the phone in his lap and drove a few seconds with his hands gripping the steering wheel, swallowing his rage.  When he picked up the phone again he dialed a number but did not hit SEND.  Holding the phone up to his ear, he put on his shit-eating grin and gushed, “Hey, Buddy, howyadoin’?”  He pretended to listen a few seconds, chuckled and said, “Still burnin’ through the plastic, huh?”  He clucked a couple of times playfully, tsk tsk.  “Well, listen, my guy is late too, so whaddya say I take this beautiful girl to a movie?  Time I finish my business you oughta be done shoppin’ and we can all be on our way, right?”  He did another pretend-listen, said, “Fine, fine,” and folded up the phone.