In Sickness And In Death Part 5

Erica skidded to a stop next to me, arms flailing to catch her balance. "You little s.h.i.t. Get out of my car."

"Erica!"

She shoved me aside and dragged Danny out from behind the wheel. "I've had it with you. Don't you ever touch my stuff again, you little brat."

He stood in the road sobbing as Erica collected her keys from Cory. The two men pushed her car out of the s...o...b..nk. She took off down the road without even a thank you.

Cory looked at me. "I can fix both cars. Don't worry."

I nodded, feeling numb. Was chaining a child to a bed frowned upon in modern society? What the h.e.l.l was Ray thinking bringing this boy home?

Cory glanced at Brennan then back at me. "Do you need me to stay?"

"No, go on. We'll be fine." Too bad I wasn't as sure about that as I sounded.

After I apologized profusely, Brennan and Cory climbed into the Mercedes, Brennan seeming unperturbed by the damage to his car. I watched him creep down the slick road, thinking perhaps Cory had finally gotten it right.

I turned my attention back to Danny, who used his fists to dry his eyes and the arm of his coat for his nose, leaving a long trail of mucus on his sleeve. "Danny, what were you thinking?"

"Ray said he'd take me to see my dad, but he left. He's not going to take me."

True, Ray would not be back in time to take him as promised. "That's no reason to steal a car, Danny. If you wanted to see your dad, all you had to do was ask me. I could have taken you."

His eyes brightened then dimmed again. "Oh."

If Ray had been home, he would have made Danny sit in his room or wash the dishes or some other punishment. But he wasn't, I was. And I felt sorry for the kid, even though he'd ruined an otherwise lovely day, not to mention two very nice cars. He was twelve and without his father. I knew all about missing a parent and wanting them desperately.

I sighed. "Promise me you will not drive any more cars. You don't have a license."

"Okay."

His hands were in his pockets so I couldn't see if his fingers were crossed. I wouldn't hold my breath. "Do you want to go see your father now?"

He lit up like a Christmas tree. "Can we?"

"Sure." I wanted to get a look at his father anyway.

I wanted to see the man who had created this monster.

Thirty minutes outside Wachobe, in a much less touristy and upscale town, the county's public safety building housed the sheriff's office, county court, and a forty-cell jail. The imposing brick and cement facility seemed impervious to the hustle of traffic in and out of the hospital and convenience store flanking it. Every time I entered the place, I got the creeps.

When Danny and I walked into the building, Gumby was on his way out. He was the one man I knew taller than Ray, and the first man to ask me out after Ray and I separated four years ago. I pa.s.sed then, and I cringed now as he stooped to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Jo, Happy Thanksgiving. Ray's not here."

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. We're actually here to visit Danny's father." I gestured to him. "Have you met Danny?"

Gumby studied Danny. "Nice haircut, kid."

Danny studied his feet.

"Can he see his dad?"

"Visiting hours are over."

"It's Thanksgiving and he's twelve. Can we make an exception?"

"It's not my rule. It's the sheriff's."

"Is he here?"

"h.e.l.l no."

I gave Gumby "the look." He bugged out his eyes right back at me. I tried a new tactic.

"Gumby, I can't believe you won't make an exception for a holiday and a twelve-year-old boy. You didn't have any qualms about making an exception to your marriage vows with my sister." I raised an eyebrow.

His chin jerked up. "Is that what she said?"

"She tells me everything." This time I had my fingers crossed in my pocket for two reasons.

He muttered something under his breath. "Let me ask."

Gumby led us down a number of corridors into the law enforcement division, filled with empty desks. He told us to wait and leaned into an office to speak with someone. I couldn't hear what was said, but Gumby made a number of gestures, not all G-rated. When Gumby stepped out of the office after five minutes, he had a ring of keys in his hand. "You're lucky he's still in pre-arraignment detention. Otherwise, you'd be SOL. Come on."

We went through a doorway into a hall then through a locked doorway into yet another hall. Gumby unlocked the next door a few feet down and stood aside to let us pa.s.s. We stepped into a four-cell holding area.

The cell to the right was empty. To the left a man lay on his back, sleeping. His chest rose and fell as he alternately whistled and snorted. I figured him for a drunk.

"Come here, kid." Gumby patted Danny down, then took him by the arm. I followed.

The next cell on the right was also empty, but to the left, a man sat with his back against the wall and his legs outstretched on his bunk. Now I knew where Danny got his good looks.

His father's hair was held back in a ponytail and his face had a few mores lines on it around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise, their facial features were almost the same. But this man had a scar on his neck as though someone had tried to slice it open and finish him off. It made Danny's nick on the cheek look as insignificant as a pimple. On his right arm, Danny's father had a tattoo of a heart with a sword running through it. A scroll beneath the heart was solid black.

When he spotted Danny, he leapt to his feet with a broad smile and moved to the cell door. "Danny."

Gumby rattled the keys in his hand. "Back against the wall, Mr. Phillips. Danny can come inside if you wait against the wall."

Mr. Phillips rushed to the opposite side of the cell. Gumby unlocked the door. Danny stepped inside. He and his father met in the middle of the cell, his father's arms encompa.s.sing him in a hug that lifted Danny off the floor. Then his father covered his face with kisses. I heard Danny sob.

Blinking back my tears, I walked back to listen to the drunk whistle and snort. Gumby remained outside the jail cell, leaning against the far wall with his eyes averted.

He gave them five minutes then five more. I didn't think even he had the heart to separate them.

When the door opened behind me and the other officer stuck his head in, Gumby asked Mr. Phillips to step back while Danny left the cell. Gumby had to tell Danny to come out three times before he did so, but only at his father's urging. I was relieved to see Danny had stopped sobbing. He asked to use the restroom before we left.

I waited in the lobby with Gumby. "Ray said Briana identified that woman's arm."

Gumby nodded. "It's her. The apartment manager let us in her place. At first, everything looked fine. Living room had an open magazine on the coffee table like maybe she'd just put it down. Kitchen clean and neat, flowers on the table. But her bed was soaked in blood, spatters all over the walls. No body though. We're going to work with that county and the State Police on the investigation. Our first priority is to find the body. No one at the apartment building saw or heard anything, and no one remembers ever seeing the woman with anyone. It's hard to tell if they're being honest or refusing to get involved. Briana said the girls at the club don't know anything about her either, other than she may have offered to meet a few guys outside of work for a price."

So the dead woman was a prost.i.tute as well as a dancer. "What was her name?"

"Josie Montalvo."

"Why would the killer cut off her arm?"

Gumby ran his hand over his hair. "Guy might be a psycho who likes trophies. Or maybe he did it for the jewelry. The ruby ring and the gold bangles are worth a few thousand. The medical examiner said the ring would have to be cut off her finger."

"Why keep just one arm?"

He shrugged. "It's not so easy to chop off an arm. Maybe he only had time for one. Besides, Briana said Josie only wore the ring and bangles on one arm."

"So you're sure the killer is a man?"

"Guys are the only ones sick enough for dismemberment. It's probably some psycho who took her home, then did her in."

Before I had a chance to get a mental image of that, Danny reappeared.

I smiled at him. "Ready to go?"

He kept walking right past me and disappeared into the parking lot.

I took that as a yes.

____.

In the middle of the night, I awoke. The clock read four a.m. Ray slumbered peacefully beside me, but I heard crying. I swung my feet to the floor and stumbled over familiar ground. When I opened the door to the nursery, the sobbing grew louder. I stepped forward and smashed my toe.

"Oh. Ow. Oh. Oh. s.h.i.t!"

I hopped around the room, holding my toe in my hand as the pain telegraphed over and over to my brain.

The crying ceased. "Jolene?"

"Yes, Danny?"

"Are you okay?"

"No." I dropped onto the end of the bed, which now extended into the middle of the room. "I stubbed my toe. It hurts like he-. It hurts."

"You swore."

The pain in my toe eased. I lowered my foot to the floor. "Yes, and see how awful it sounds when someone does."

He sat up in the bed. "Why are you here?"

"I heard crying. I thought you needed me." Truthfully, I thought Noelle needed me, but once again, I'd been mistaken. Danny didn't need to know all that, though.

"Oh."

"What's wrong? Are you worried about your dad?"

"Yes ... no ... yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes ... No."

I slid up next to him. "Let's talk anyway. It will make me feel better."

"Okay."

"Are you worried he's not going to get out of jail?"

"Yes."

"Are you worried something bad will happen to him there?"

"Like what?"

Perfect. I'd led myself right into a trap where I could build his fears. "I don't know. I've never been in jail. Has your dad?"

"Yes. He said he'd never go back."

I processed the implications of that statement. Ray seemed confident Mr. Phillips would be convicted. I didn't know the sentence for car theft, but I imagined a couple of years at least, more since the man had priors. I didn't see how Danny's father could avoid doing time if he did get convicted. Prison escapes were pretty pa.s.se around here. Maybe he should have thought of that before he stole the Escalade.

I decided to change the topic. "Where did you live before your dad got arrested?"

"We moved around. We stayed with my dad's friends sometimes."

I wondered if they were all car thieves, too. "Where's all your stuff?"

"In my dad's car."

"A Toyota Camry?"

He didn't answer. I took that for a yes.

"Where's your mom?"

"I don't know."

"Have you seen her?"

"I'm not sure."

What an odd thing to be uncertain about. "You're not sure because it was so long ago?"