ownership, irrevocably marred by litter and graffiti. Worse, every inch of curb space was full of vehicles. She turned right, cruised that street, turned right again, then left. Oh God, where was it? She couldn’t lose it now. There. At last. No, it looked new. Another. It was more of a rust color. How many red pickups can there be in a small area?
Finally she entered a cul-de-sac. At the turnaround two red pickups sat next to each other. ‘Oh God, either could be him.”
“Marco.” Tommy pointed at the first vehicle.
“Is that Marco’s truck?”
He nodded and squealed. Apparently he had ridden in the red truck and loved it.
“Do you know where Marco lives?”
He pointed to a nondescript apartment house. She hugged him. “Thank you, my precious, thank you.”
She stopped in the doorway to read mailboxes. Marco Musante lived in 2C. But Tommy had already gone ahead, up the stairs. And a little child shall lead them. Thank you, God.
She rang the doorbell, got no answer, then again, a third time. Maybe it didn’t work. She rapped, then harder, finally pounded with her fist. “He has to be here. I can’t have done this for-” She used both fists.
The door opened. Marco Musante wore a filthy undershirt and jeans. He held a cell phone in his hand. “Mrs. Byerly, what brings you here?”
She looked inside. “Where’s Jamie? What have you done with him?”
Marco just stood there. She pushed past him, saw an unkempt room, pieces of battered furniture, a huge exercise gadget. She peered in a bedroom, then crossed to the kitchen. There sat Jamie with a glass of milk and a package of Oreos.
“Thank God!” She swept him into her arms and carried him back to the doorway. “Come, Tommy, we have to go.”
“Where you takin’ the kid?”
“Somewhere safe-away from you.”
“I ain’t harmin’ the kid. I was just phonin’ his mother to pick him up.”
Fear gripped her. “Who have you told about Jamie?”
“I was just waitin’ for the guy to come on the line when you barged in.”
“You’ve told no one?”
“Look, lady-I mean Mrs. Byerly, there’s a twenty-five grand reward for return of the kid. Karen and I can use that kind of money.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“The guys at the garage was talkin’ about it.”
Garage? “Oh, that’s right, you’re a mechanic. Who’s offering the reward?”
“I dunno. You’re supposed to phone this number if you see the kid.” He pointed. “I’m sure he’s the one, blond, blue eyes.”
“What number?” It meant nothing to her, but it could be checked. She clutched Jamie tighter. “Listen to me, Marco, this little boy was left with Karen precisely because he’s in danger.” His mouth opened, but she wasn’t about to let him speak. “Don’t ask who from, I don’t know. The point is your actions have put him at great risk.”
“But the mother-”
“I guarantee you the people you were to phone don’t represent Jamie’s mother.”
“What about the twenty-five grand?”
“You were getting along fine without it. You don’t need it. Goodbye, Marco.” She started past him through the door, but he stretched out an arm to stop her, It was huge and hairy, tattooed with a snarling wolf. She looked at him levelly. “Do you really think this is worth prison?”
To her relief the arm slowly lowered, and she passed through the door with both boys, then turned back. “One more thing, Marco. If you make any phone calls or tell anyone-anyone at all-about the whereabouts of Jamie, then you can kiss off your romance with Karen. She’ll never have a thing to do with you.”
She drove back to her flower shop, quite slowly now, her hands shaking as she gripped the wheel. She sighed. At least she’d found Jamie. He was safe-for the moment.
Karen La Rocca bounced in an hour or so later, her car repaired. DeeDee took her aside, explained.
“I’m sure Marco didn’t mean anything, DeeDee. All he thought about was returning Jamie to his mother.”
And the $25,000. “I’m sure that’s true, Karen, but we can’t take chances. Do you have somewhere you can go with Jamie, both boys, somewhere Marco doesn’t know, where you’d be safe?”
Karen patted her hair. “I’ve never mentioned my brother to Marco.” She sighed. “Gino wouldn’t approve of Marco.”
A wise brother. “Where does he live?”
“Fresno.” She looked uncertain. “I guess Gino and Norma would take us in for a few days.”
“Go now, please, and don’t tell anyone where you are.”
Karen hesitated. “But Marco will-”
“Phone him if you must, but please, please, I beg you, don’t tell him where you are.”
“But what about the store?”
“It’ll be hell, but we’ll manage. We have no choice.” She knelt, hugged both boys at once. “I’ll miss you guys.” Now she looked up. Karen clearly did not want to go into hiding. “You have misgivings, don’t you?”
“No, no, it’s okay-I guess.”
“I’ll keep you on salary while you’re gone.” That brightened her. DeeDee went to the cash drawer. “Here, let me give you some money to tide you over.” Two hundred lit her up.
13: Se Habla Espanol
Doreen hadn’t sobbed like this since her father died. He could feel her whole body shaking. He said nothing, just held her-relieved she was still there for him to hold.
Finally coherent words came. “I was so…frightened, Walter, so…terribly scared. I–I could've been killed… Tommy, too.”
“You’re a good driver, darling, better than you think.”
“No, no, I’m not, in and out…of traffic, racing…” He felt her shudder all over like a wet dog. “I’m never…going to drive…again. I–I'm getting rid of…that silly little car.”
He laughed. “Good thing you had it. You’d never have caught up to Jamie otherwise. That’s all that matters.” He reached behind her to the kitchen counter. “Here, love, drink some cognac. It’ll do you good.”
It worked, or something did, for soon her breathing became more ordered. “Sorry, I do so hate ninnies.”
“Only understandable. You had a bad fright.” She blew her nose, snatched a second tissue from the box. “I have to ask, Doreen, why are we doing this? This is cops’ stuff. Let the Buster Brogan’s of this world handle it.”
“But they aren’t. I found out poor Harry wasn’t a suicide, that somebody stole all his records, that Jamie belongs to another woman. Not even Lupe would’ve discovered all that. I think I’m doing splendidly, Walter.”
He laughed. “What are you going to do, open DeeDee’s Detective Agency?”
“Not a bad idea. We could be partners. You learned about the kidnapping and who Jamie really is.”
He waved that aside. “Any gumshoe can stumble on something once in awhile. While you’re detecting, you might ask what’s to keep your well-muscled Isla Vista friend from still calling up-”
“I told him he’d never sleep with Karen again if he told anyone.” She smiled. “Those aren’t the exact words I used, but that’s what I meant.”
“Probably an idle threat, given the way those two ogle each other.”
“Karen’s taking both boys to her brother’s in Fresno. She promised not to tell Marco where they are.”
“And what’s to keep him from calling up Kinkaid or whoever and telling him about your involvement? That has to be worth a few bucks.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think he will,” she said softly.
