Gone

Milo said, “Any other reason the calls bothered you?”

“They kept hanging up.”

“They,” said Milo. Stretching the word.

Vasquez looked up, confused.

Milo said, “Maybe you were worried about a ‘they,’ Jackie.”

“Huh?”

“Armando’s old homeboys.”

“Armando don’t have no homeboys.”

“He used to, Jackie.”

Silence.

“Everyone knows he used to run with the 88s, Jackie.”

Vasquez sniffed.

“Everyone knows,” Milo repeated.

“That was, like, a long time ago,” said Vasquez. “Armando don’t bang no more.”

“Who’s they?”

“The calls. There was a bunch.”

“Any other calls last night?”

“My mother.”

“What time?”

“Like six.” Jacalyn Vasquez sat up straighter. “The other one wasn’t no homeboys.”

“What other one?”

“After the ones that hung up. Someone talked. Like a whisper, you know?”

“A whisper.”

“Yeah.”

“What’d they whisper about.”

“Him. They said he was dangerous, liked to hurt women.”

“Someone whispered that about Peaty?”

“Yeah.”

“You heard this.”

“They talked to Armando.”

“What time did this whispering call come in, Jackie?”

“Like…we were in bed with the TV. Armando answered and he was pissed off ’cause a the other calls hanging up. He’s, like, started yelling into the phone and then he’s, like, stopped, listened. I said what, he waved his hand, like, you know? He listened and his face got all red. That was the last time.”

“Armando got mad.”

“Real mad.”

“ ’Cause of the whispering.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did Armando tell you about the whispering after he hung up?”

Jacalyn Vasquez shook her head. “Later.”

“When, later?”

“Last night.”

“Calling from jail.”

“Yeah.”

“You never heard the whispering and Armando didn’t tell you about it at the time. Then, after Armando shot Peaty, he decided to tell you.”

“I ain’t lyin’.”

“I can understand your wanting to protect your husband- ”

“I ain’t lyin’.”

“Let’s say someone did whisper,” said Milo. “You figure that made it okay to shoot Peaty?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that, Jackie?”

“He was dangerous.”

“According to the whisperer.”

“I ain’t lyin’.”

“Maybe Armando is.”

“Armando ain’t lyin’.”

“Did Armando say if this whisperer was a man or a woman?”

“Armando said the whispering made so you couldn’t tell.”

“Pretty good whispering.”

“I ain’t lyin’.” Jacalyn Vasquez folded her arms across her bosom and stared at Milo.

“You know, Jackie, that any calls to your apartment can be verified.”

“Huh?”

“We can check your phone records.”

“Fine,” she said.

“The problem is,” said Milo, “all we can know is that someone called you at a certain time. We can’t verify what was said.”

“It happened.”

“According to Armando.”

“Armando ain’t lyin’.”

“All those hang-ups,” said Milo. “Then all of a sudden, someone’s whispering about Peaty and Armando’s listening.”

Jacalyn Vasquez’s hands, still crossed, climbed to her face and pushed against her cheeks. Her features turned rubbery. When she spoke through compressed lips, the words came out slurred, like a kid goofing.

“It happened. Armando told me. It happened.”

***

Brittany Chamfer was waiting in the hall, playing with her nose stud. She whipped around, saw Jacalyn Vasquez dabbing her eyes. “You okay, Jackie?”

“He don’ believe me.”

Chamfer said, “What?”

Milo said, “Thanks for coming in.”

Chamfer said, “We’re looking for the truth.”

“Common goal.”

Chamfer considered her response. “What message should I give to Mr. Shuldiner?”

“Thank him for his civic duty.”

“Pardon?”

“Thank him for creativity, too.”

Brittany Chamfer said, “I’m not going to tell him that.”

“Have a nice day.”

“I will.” Chamfer flipped her long hair. “Will you?”

Renewing her grip, she propelled Jacalyn Vasquez up the corridor.

Milo said, “That’s why the D.A.’s office palmed it on me. What a crock.”

“You’re dismissing it out of hand?” I said.

“You’re not?”

“If Vasquez’s lying to exonerate himself, he could’ve picked something stronger. Like Peaty threatening him explicitly.”

“So he’s stupid.”