questions, so he snatched up one of the blue cases and opened it. 'What's this?' Elvis took the case, closed it, then put it back into the cigar box. 'They call it a Silver Star. That's why there's a little silver star in the center of the gold star.' 'You have two. '' 'The Army had a sale. '' Elvis put away another box. Ben saw that Elvis was uncomfortable with the medals and the pictures, but this was the coolest stuff that Ben had ever seen and he wanted to know about it. He snatched up a third medal case. 34
'Why is this one purple and shaped like a heart?' 'Let's get this stuff away and finish with the car.' ''Is that what you get when you're shot?'' 'There are all kinds of ways to be wounded.'
Elvis put away the last medal case, then picked up the pictures. Ben realized that he really didn't know much about his mom's boyfriend. Ben knew that Elvis must have done something pretty darned brave to win all these medals, but Elvis never talked about any of that. How could a guy have all this neat stuff and keep it hidden. Ben would wear his medals every day!
''How did you get that Silver Star medal? Were you a hero?'
Elvis kept his eyes down as he put the pictures in the cigar box and closed the lid.
''Not hardly, bud. No one else was around to get them, so they gave them to me.'
''I hope I get a Silver Star medal one day. '
Elvis suddenly looked as if he was made of steel and thorns, and Ben grew scared. The Elvis that Ben knew didn't seem to be there at all, but his hard eyes softened and Elvis came back to himself. Ben was relieved.
Elvis took one of the Silver Stars from the cigar box and held it out.
'Tell you what, bud--I'd rather you take one of mine.'
And just like that, Elvis Cole gave Ben one of his Silver Stars.
Ben held the medal like a treasure. The ribbon was shiny and smooth; the medallion was a lot heavier than it looked. That gold star with its little silver center weighed
a lot, and its points were really sharp.
''I can keep it?'
'Sure. They gave it to me, and now I'm giving it to you. ''
'Wow. Thank you! Could I be a Ranger, too?'
Elvis seemed a lot more relaxed now. He made a big deal out of placing his hand on Ben's head like Ben was being knighted.
'You are officially a U.S. Army Ranger. This is the best way to become a Ranger. Now you don't have to do all
those push-ups. ''
Ben laughed.
Elvis closed the cigar box again and put it back on the high shelf along with the gym bag.
'Anything else you want to see? I have some real
smelly boots up here and some old Odor-Eaters.' 'Ewww. Gross.'
Now they both were smiling, and Ben felt better. All was right with the world.
Elvis gently squeezed the back of Ben's neck and steered him toward the stairs. That was one of the thins Ben liked best about Elvis; he didn't treat Ben like a child.
'!Okay, m'man, let's finish washing the car, and then
we can pick out a movie. '
'Can I use the hose? '
'Only after I put on my raincoat. '
Elvis made a goofy face, they both laughed, and then Ben followed Elvis downstairs. Ben put the Silver Star in his pocket, but every few minutes he fingered the sharp points through his pants and thought that it was pretty darned cool.
Later that night Ben wanted to see the other medals and the pictures again, but Elvis had acted so upset that Ben didn't want to ask. When Elvis was taking a shower, Ben heaved himself back atop the safe, but the cigar box was gone. Ben didn't find where Elvis had hidden it, and he was too embarrassed to ask.
36
CHAPTER 3
time missing: 3 hours, $6 minutes
The police arrived at twenty minutes after eight that night. It was full-on dark, with a chill in the air that was sharp and smelled of dust. Lucy stood sharply when the doorbell rang.
I said, 'I've got it. That's Lou.'
Adult missing persons were handled by the Missing Persons Unit out of Parker Center downtown, but missing or abducted children were dealt with on a divisional level by Juvenile Section detectives. If I had called the police like anyone else, I would have had to identify myself and explain about Ben to the complaint operator, then again to whoever answered in the detective bureau, and a third time when the duty detective handed me off to the Juvenile desk. Calling my friend Lou Poitras saved time. Poitras was a Homicide lieutenant at Hollywood Station. He rolled out a Juvie team as soon as we got off the phone, and he rolled out with them.
Poitras was a wide man with a body like an oil drum and a face like boiled ham. His black leather coat was stretched tight across a chest and arms that were swollen from a lifetime of lifting weights. He looked grim as he
