Brennan hung up the phone, stood up and walked away. He heard the faint sounds of Ricardo banging against the window. He kept walking. There was nothing more to say.
*
There was one other stop Brennan needed to make before he made the phone call to Victor. If he was going to break news such as this, he was going to make damn sure it was accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt.
He’d known all along something wasn’t right with Shyla; how she showed up out of the blue so conveniently, her detour through Victor’s office that night, her uncanny ability to wheedle her way into their affairs as a trusted girlfriend. Instinct had told him to be cautious, but he had never imagined that she was a police officer.
The last place that he wanted to go was to the main headquarters of the LAPD, but they had a few old contacts who worked downtown and owed Victor a favor here and there. It paid to know which cops had a drug habit.
Brennan took the cement stairs two at a time and silently wished that he would find out that Ricardo had been lying to detract the focus from himself. But a little voice in his head knew the truth.
When he approached the administration desk, a perky blonde gave him a once over and a flirty smile.
“How can I help you, Sir?”
“Yeah, I’m supposed to meet with Officer Schlesinger later this evening, but I’ve just learned that I won’t be able to make that meeting. I was hoping that I could have a quick word with him right now, if he’s not too busy.”
Brennan knew the cop he was enquiring about was relegated to a desk since an injury two years back. He’d be on site.
The secretary was biting her lip and Brennan figured it was supposed to be a seductive ploy but thought it made her look ridiculous. Why do girls act like that? he wondered. Shyla didn’t. Except for that day at the park; she’d tried a bit like that then, but never again since. Now that he looked back, he realized she’d known all along who he was to Victor and was playing him like a fiddle to get a reaction. The realization should have angered him. It did to an extent, but it made him feel ignorant too.
He shoved aside those thoughts and waited for the secretary to respond.
“I’ll have to radio and find his location,” she said, “he may not be in the building.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait. Tell him it’s an old friend from Whitey’s café. He’ll know who you’re talking about.”
The woman nodded her head and picked up the call radio. Brennan knew that the best insurance to convince Schlesinger to come down was to use a reference he would instantly recognize as an affiliation with Victor. Whitey’s café was code for wanting to buy cocaine. He’d come down.
Sure enough, Schlesinger shuffled out of the elevator, limping on his left leg with a wide eyed expression. When he caught sight of Brennan his brow furrowed and he glanced around nervously. Showing up at his workplace was unconventional. It would make him nervous.
He approached with a thin grin.
“Well hello.”
They shook hands.
“I’ve had something come up and won’t be able to make our meeting later today,” Brennan said, “so I thought I’d stop by real quick to see if you had a few minutes.”
“Uh…sure, I’ve always got time for an old friend. Why don’t we just step out and have a quick cup of coffee at the bakery around the corner. It’s nearly five o’clock. I get off work in a bit. Can it wait until then?”
“No. It can’t. I won’t take much of your time.”
He sneaked a quick glance backwards and ushered Brennan out the front door.
Brennan took the lead once they hit the sidewalk and led Schlesinger straight toward the limousine he’d come in. He opened the back door and gestured with his hand, indicating his guest slide in first.
Schlesinger gave him a nervous smile and looked like he might decline, then thought better of it. He slid in. Brennan followed and shut the door behind them.
“What’s this about?” Schlesinger asked.
Brennan pulled his phone out of his pocket. With a few taps to the touch screen he pulled up a photo. It was one that he had taken of Shyla and Victor as they stood at the railing of the Shannon before they set sail that Friday evening.
“Do you know this girl?”
Schlesinger squinted as he glanced at the small screen. He grabbed the phone and held it closer for better inspection.
“Hmm, yeah, yeah, I know her. She actually used to be one of ours, until she transferred, that is. Narcotics, I believe. But I could be wrong about that. I’m not sure. She wasn’t very friendly, but she was hot as hell.”
He glanced up and handed the phone over.
“Why are you asking me?”
Brennan shook his head.
“I just needed to identify her. That will be all. You’re excused.”
He opened the door.
Schlesinger paused. “
That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Oh. Okay. Well you got anything on you? I could use a little pick-me-up. I’ve got cash.”
Users were shameless, thought Brennan. He shook his head and held the door open. Disappointed, Schlesinger begrudgingly exited the vehicle.
“Say hi to Victor for me,” he said.
Brennan cut him off and slammed the door shut. He lowered the partition and spoke to the driver.
“The airport. We’re done here.”
TWENTY-NINE
Shyla flipped through the radio stations and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she drove out of her apartment complex. It was date night. Anxiety was not a stranger, but she was frustrated because she was so worked up about this damn date with Victor. She had it under control, she told herself. But the voices of Eli, Hal, and Shawn kept echoing off the frenetic walls of her mind and it was making her twitchy.
Settling on a classic rock station, she popped her thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of Lynard Skynard’s Sweet Home Alabama. It was dusk and the sky was a vibrant orange and pink display of color.
She turned down Main Street and noticed a plump girl walking on the sidewalk. Even from behind, she would know that girl anywhere. Carmen was limping along pitifully, but her head was held high. Shyla wondered how she must have hurt herself, what kind of trouble she had been up to and pulled alongside the curb.
“Hey,” she giggled, “hey, Carmen, what’s up?”
Carmen glanced over her shoulder and, when she saw who it was, looked away and quickened her pace. But not before Shyla had seen the black and blue shiner on her right eye.
She slammed on the brakes, put the car in park and leaped out. She hopped the curb and blocked Carmen’s path. Carmen paused but looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.
“What happened, Carmen?
Carmen shrugged her off.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Shyla put her hands on her shoulders and peered into her face.
“I’m already worried about it. Now tell me what happened. Who did this to you?”
“God, you’re such a pain in the ass, lady. Just leave me alone,” Carmen turned on her heel and marched in the opposite direction, but Shyla wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She sprinted and cut Carmen off.
“Come on, let’s just go for a quick ride,” she said.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Carmen sighed.
“Not a chance,” Shyla said, shaking her head.
Without another word, Carmen stomped toward Shyla’s car, pulled open the passenger door and slid in. Behind the wheel, Shyla waited until they were a few blocks down before she pushed the issue.
“I’m gonna guess your mom. At first, I’d have said your dad, but by the looks of that shiner, I’d have to say it was a backhand, rather than a fist. And men typically aren’t your backhand kind of people.”
Carmen tilted her head and gave her an incredulous look. Then she looked back out the side window.
“I broke a dish. It’s n
ot even like it’s a nice dish. Our dishes don’t match or anything. They’re just Goodwill rescues. But it’s not really about the damn dish. It’s about the fact that she doesn’t want a kid around reminding her of how old and worn out she is.
“It’s not my fault that dad sleeps around with half the town. But as far as she’s concerned, it is. If she’d never had me, she’d still be skinny and beautiful. He’d still find her attractive and wouldn’t have to go looking elsewhere.”
Shyla heard a small sniffle under the bitterness and anger. Her own anger was flaring white hot. Seeing the bruising on Carmen’s face had triggered something raw and visceral, something old and not yet forgotten from her own past. But she curbed that desire to lash out and tried to remain calm. If not for her years of training she probably would have never been able to.
When she heard Carmen choke down a sob, she pulled the car over to the side of the road again. She turned in her seat and looked at the girl, only thirteen years old and already so utterly exposed to the ugliness of the world. But Shyla could also see the few remains of her youth and innocence. She desperately wanted to preserve and protect that last bit.
It was uncomfortable to see her cry. Shyla had never been good with tears. She looked away and bit the inside of her cheek. Another sob reached her ears and it was more than she could bear. She reached across the console and pulled Carmen into her embrace. Carmen turned into her and held on. They hugged for a long time, Shyla biting her cheek, willing herself not to cry with her, to just be strong. Never had she felt like this before. She’d come to care for this girl so much in so little time.
When Carmen calmed down, Shyla finally spoke.
“We’re going to go down to the station and you’re going to file charges.”
“No! No! I can’t do that,” Carmen cried, her eyes widening, “they’ll arrest her. Why would you say something like that?
“Because, it’s what has to be done, Carmen,” Shyla sighed, “it’s called justice.”
“Well fuck justice!” Carmen shouted, “Justice doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to me!”
“Calm down, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. You know what will happen if I file? I’ll tell you…a goddamn mess, that’s what. My parents will get arrested, I’ll go to foster care, they’ll get off with a hand slap, I may or may not get to go back home and if I do, it all starts over again. Hell no, I’m not going down to the station.”
“Well what am I supposed to do, just let you walk back into an abusive house?”
“Yeah,” Carmen nodded, “that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. That’s what I do every damn day.”
There was a set determination in Carmen’s face and she suddenly looked so much older. Shyla sat back and shook her head. There was no easy answer to Carmen’s situation. She still believed it was best to take her down to the station, but she could see that there was no way she would be able to talk her into that. She would have to think on it and decide if she would notify child protective services herself. It would turn Carmen’s world upside down, but she had to believe it would be for the best. Unfortunately, none of it was going to be settled tonight.
“Fine, but I don’t want you to go back there tonight, do you hear me? You can stay at my house.”
Carmen looked shocked. She was silent for a moment then shook her head.
“No, I can’t. I have to go home. She always feels bad afterward for a few days and she’ll worry if I don’t come back tonight. I’ll be fine.”
When Shyla hesitated, Carmen persisted.
“I promise,” she said, “I’ll come by first thing tomorrow morning and check in.”
“Okay,” Shyla said, glancing at the clock glowing on the dash,“Shit. I’m late.”
Carmen gave her a quick once over, finally noticing her outfit.
“You look nice. You must have a hot date.”
“Yeah, I’m late though. Do you want me to take you home?”
“Sure. No problem. I was heading that way anyway.”
When they pulled into the drive, Shyla insisted on walking her up to the door. Carmen resisted, but Shyla held firm, refusing to leave until she had.
The house was a trailer, small and barely held together by nuts and bolts. Her mother stood at the door in her skin-tight leggings and leopard print shirt. Her eyes were wary as they flitted back and forth from Carmen to Shyla.
“Okay, thanks for the ride,” Carmen said, “you can go now.”
“I’d like to meet your mother,” Shyla smiled. She walked past Carmen and extended a hand, “Hello, Mrs…” she realized she didn’t know Carmen’s last name.
“Dunsworth,” Carmen cut in.
“Mrs. Dunsworth. It’s nice to meet you. I’m friends with your daughter. You can call me Sue.”
Sue looked Shyla up and down with skepticism.
“A little old to be hanging around with a teenage girl aren’t ya?”
“Not really,” Shyla smiled, “we have a few things in common. But the reason I’m here is because I picked her up on the side of the road, looking like she’d been beat up pretty good. She says she got into a fight with some girls from school and, seeing as how I work down at the police station, I offered to take her down there and fill out a report. She doesn’t want to do that though, says she’ll just cause more trouble if she does.”
Sue’s eyes doubled in size at the mention of the police department.
“Anyway, I want both of you to know that if something like this ever happens again, I’ll report it myself,” Shyla continued, the warning in her tone was unmistakable.
Carmen kept her eyes to the ground. Her mother bit her lip and nodded.
“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll be sure to keep that in mind. I don’t want her out messing with those hoodlum kids anyway.”
She wrapped her arm around Carmen.
“Well thanks for bringing her home. I appreciate it. We’ll just go inside now.”
Shyla stepped back and gave a wave.
“Goodnight,” she called, “see ya around, Carmen.”
THIRTY
When Shyla rang Victor’s doorbell, she half expected Brennan to answer. When Victor pulled open the door he grabbed her into a big hug, a small part of her felt disappointed.
“Oh, I’m glad to see you, Gorgeous! I’ve been thinking of you all week.”
Shyla was caught off guard by his unusually gregarious nature.
“I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, “it’s been a weird week.”
Victor shut the door behind her and led her down the hall, his hand at the small of her back.
“You can say that again,” he said, “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. But I’ve got one of the best lawyers in the state and he’s already sorted through most of the mess. It was all just a big mix-up.”
“That’s one hell of a mix-up, Victor. Aren’t you going to elaborate?”
She stared him down her eyebrows raised expectantly.
He paused.
“Why don’t we have a drink first?” he said.
Shyla followed him down to the parlor and placed her coat and scarf over the back of a bar stool.
“I’ll have Patron on the rocks, please.”
“Of course,” Victor smiled,
Instead of taking a seat on the sofa, she stood facing him and waited for an explanation. He didn’t look nervous. He looked perturbed that she was demanding more of an answer from him. She doubted he was used to anyone who pushed his boundaries. She doubted that she should be the one to do the pushing.
“Listen, Shyla, I’m not going to go into detail, but I have friends and I have enemies. It’s what happens when you have money. Let’s just say, that I made friends with the wrong people who have a different work ethic than I do. That’s all.”
“Okay, and by work ethic, you mean legal versus illegal?”
Why was she being so obtuse? It wasn’t like her.
Maybe Shawn was right, maybe she did have a death wish.
Victor shifted his weight and cocked his head to the side. Shyla didn’t like the look on his face.
“Speaking of legality,” Victor said, “why don’t you tell me about your run in with the law a few years back, Shyla?”
To hide her own expression, she took a sip of her drink. It was like fire.
“A few years?” she asked innocently, “I don’t recall anything in particular a few years back.”
“I’ll be more specific then,” Victor said, giving a wicked smile, “how about nineteen years ago, when you were about fourteen years old?”
Shyla swallowed hard.
“Sounds to me like you already know a few things all on your own, so why would you need to ask me?”
Victor set his glass on the bar and walked toward her with the stealth of a cougar hunting its prey. He walked around her, running his index finger along her jaw line, down her neck and around her shoulders as he encircled her.
“I thought I’d give you the chance to tell me yourself. Typically, I don’t have a problem with secrets. I have plenty of them myself. But seeing on how we’re…together, it does bother me to think that maybe you’re keeping things from me.”
He stopped in front of her and looked her in the eyes. She met them and hoped he couldn’t see her doubt.
“I don’t hide it from anyone,” she said, “but I don’t announce it either. I live here, where it all happened. Half the town remembers. I can’t hide from it here. Why would I try?”
“I can understand that,” Victor nodded. He started pacing slowly around her again, “I had just hoped that we were at a point where you felt you could be open with me.”
The way he was making her feel, stalked and out of control, was testing all of her reserve to maintain her calm. She wanted to lash out at him and put his pompous, arrogant ass in place.
“I do feel that way. I should have said something before. It just never was the right moment,” she looked over her shoulder and met his eyes, “I’m glad you know now.”
With a delicate smile he leaned in and gave her neck a soft kiss. She shivered with revulsion.