Chapter 19
Tuesday, March 11
T hey skipped,” the ogre said. “Don’t know where to.”
“Excuse me?”
“Evaded us.”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Those two words were enough to further sour his boss’s disposition, which could already curdle cream. Against the advice of his doctor to take it easy for several days, Tom had phoned Frank early, waking him up and summoning him into his office.
“Within half an hour,” he’d said before hanging up.
On the drive in, Frank had checked with the man who’d been on night watch at the hotel where Bowie and the woman were cozied up. His man had reported that Bowie’s car hadn’t gone anywhere and that there’d been no sign of him.
“The woman?”
“Nope. Neither of them.”
Hearing that had made Frank uneasy. Bowie had last been seen entering the hotel almost twenty-four hours ago. Even during a sexathon, they had to come up for air sometime.
Frank ordered his man to confirm that they were still in the hotel.
“Desk clerk says she hasn’t checked out.”
“That doesn’t mean shit. Set off the fire alarm. Bribe a maid to let you into her room. Only as a last resort, play the cop card. Barker wants to keep this quiet for now. Whatever you do, be quick about it.”
Fifteen minutes later the guy called him back. He’d given one of the hotel’s housekeepers a sob story about his sister, Beth, who often went on drinking binges. She confirmed that Ms. Collins was still checked in. Then he’d talked her into letting him into room 307 to check on his sister’s well-being.
He’d told Frank that the Do Not Disturb sign was hanging on the doorknob. The bed was still made. Towels hadn’t been used. One empty bourbon bottle from the mini bar was in the trash can.
And Frank had thought, Oh fuck , knowing he had to break this news to Tom Barker.
Now he had, and Tom was thumping his desktop with his fist in a steady rhythm of fury. “He’s made fools of all of us.”
“He’s slick.”
“Bullheaded son of a bitch. He can’t be enjoying this ducking and hiding any more than we are.”
Frank said nothing but thought, He’s got the girl .
“That goddamn Mellin case. Why won’t he just let it go?”
Since it was a rhetorical question, Frank didn’t respond to it, either. Instead he said, “What do you want me to do, boss?”
“Go back to his house and—”
“I’ve already sent somebody. It’ll take him a while to find the place, and when he does, I doubt he’ll find Bowie there.”
“He couldn’t have gotten away from that hotel unseen unless he’d had help.” He glanced past the ogre into the squad room beyond the door. The window in it now had a jagged crack created by Bowie. “Nobody out there would dare to cross me.”
Frank shifted in his seat. “Probably not, but I told you yesterday that—”
“Bowie has a cheering section. I’m aware. But cheering from the sidelines and playing the game are two different things.”
“I guess it boils down to if they like him more than they fear you.”
Tom scowled. “They fear me, all right.”
The ogre didn’t comment.
“What about Mitch Haskell?” Tom asked. “Are they still thick?”
“Dunno.”
“Find out.”
“That’s not gonna be easy. Isn’t he working undercover for the feds?”
“Find out. Also, have someone check the security cameras at the hotel, especially the rear exits.”
Frank sighed. “Look, boss, if they were caught on camera, it’ll probably show them climbing into an Uber car.”
“If that’s the case, identify that car and driver and find out when and where they were dropped off.”
“Which is exactly what Bowie would expect us to do. He’d no longer be where they were dropped.” Frank took a breath. “What I think? I think we sit back and let Bowie do all the hiding and ducking while we wait for him to show his head.”
Tom scrutinized him without saying anything until it became uncomfortable.
Belligerently, Frank said, “What?”
“It’s sounding to me like you’re scared of him, Frank.”
He didn’t like that. Not at all. Especially because there was a speck of truth to it. Physically, he could pound Bowie to mush. But Bowie was smarter than him, and he had a cold way of smiling while he was threatening to blow your head off that made you think that he would do it, and that he’d enjoy it.
Tom was still eyeing him with a faint smirk.
“Scared of Bowie?” he scoffed. “That’ll be the day.”
“Kinda sounds like that,” Tom said.
The two stared each other down, and Frank was pleased when Tom was the first to relax and break eye contact. He said, “Before you got here, I went to see the superintendent. It took only one look at me to get his authorization. He was queasy about the negative publicity it will no doubt generate, but he said he’ll put a spin on it. Something to the effect that when he spots a bad apple, he gets rid of it so it won’t spoil the whole barrel.”
“Authorization for what?”
“A warrant for the arrest of John Preston Bowie. Assault and battery and assorted lesser offenses against a police officer. That’s the official mandate.” He leaned forward across his desk and lowered his voice. “But what I really want to happen, Frank, is for you to locate the son of a bitch but not to bother with bringing him in. Got it?”
Loud and clear . “What about her?”
“Two can be disposed of in a swamp as easily as one.”
Frank grunted understanding and heaved himself up.
As he headed for the door, Tom said, “I don’t believe I need to remind you how much is riding on your success or failure.”
The ogre turned and flashed his grotesque grin. “Mainly your ass, Tom. Mainly your ass.”
Last night, immediately upon hearing his daughter’s tearful voice, John had covered the speaker, apologized to Beth, and told her it was a call he had to take. He’d bade her a quick good night and then had retreated into his bedroom and closed the door.
Now as she came into the main room, he was in the kitchen making coffee. “Good morning.”
He told her good morning, then, “I have to go see my daughter.” Before she had time to respond, he continued in a clipped voice. “The officer I charged with getting an address for Carla Mellin came through. So we’ll drive into town together. We’ll go see her after my talk with Molly.”
“Okay.” She didn’t remark on that being the first time he’d called his daughter by name.
Obviously distressed, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m meeting her at a coffee shop within walking distance of her school. She’s upset. I hope you understand that it’s not a good time to be making introductions. It shouldn’t take long.”
“I don’t mind waiting in the car.”
“Thanks. Her first class is at nine, so…” He motioned toward the wall clock, and Beth got the message.
“Give me ten minutes.”
During the drive into Auclair, he said little. That now familiar dent stayed between his eyebrows, indicating to her that whatever was going on with his daughter was troubling him greatly.
Fearing he might get prickly if he thought she was prying, she asked mildly, “How old is Molly?”
He stirred as though he’d been completely lost in thought. “Sixteen. In that picture you saw of us on the beach, we were celebrating her twelfth birthday. That was before the bottom fell out.”
“Of…?”
“Everything.”
Beth let the conversation die there. For the rest of the drive, he kept his eyes on the road, and neither said anything until he pulled into the coffee shop’s parking lot. “That’s her.”
The girl was standing outside the entrance scanning the parking lot for arrivals. She’d filled out since the picture on John’s nightstand had been taken, but she was still lanky. Her dark hair curled wildly. Rather adorably, in Beth’s opinion. She was dressed in wide-legged jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and the clunky sneakers her generation loved. A backpack was hanging from her narrow shoulders
“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” John asked.
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
As he walked toward his daughter, she gave him a tentative smile and said meekly, “Hi, Dad.”
He pulled her into a tight hug, rocking slightly. They held on to each other for a long time. When he released her, she glanced back at the car.
“Is that the car from the fishing camp?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s that with you?”
“Nobody.”
“Somebody.”
“I’ll tell you inside.”
They went in and were led by a waitress to a booth. They scooted in facing each other. Molly ordered a smoothie. He ordered a black coffee. He asked about her classes, friends, general parental stuff to which he got general, monosyllabic, adolescent replies.
“How’s the art project coming?”
“Okay.”
She’d replied with a desultory okay to all his inquiries, when it was evident that everything was definitely not okay.
Their order arrived. She drew the straw toward her mouth and took a long sip, studying him over the tall glass. When she leaned back, she said, “Did you have a black eye?”
“Thanks to Mitch.”
“Uncle Mitch?” she exclaimed, showing some animation for the first time. She even laughed. “Why were you two fighting?”
“Just horsing around. He got a bruised belly out of it.”
“When’s their baby coming?”
“A few more months. They found out it’s a boy.”
“Cool. Have they named him?”
“I forgot to ask.”
She rolled her eyes at what seemed an unforgivable omission, then looked out the window toward his car. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. She’s, uh, work-related.” He told her about Beth’s affiliation with Crisis Point . “You remember when they were down here filming? The episode airs next week.”
“Then what’s she doing here now?”
“Part of her job is to make sure everything is accurate. She’s double-checking a few key elements of the story ahead of the broadcast.”
His daughter eyed him with a shrewdness that defied her youth. “Why’s she asking you?”
“Because I’ve refused to talk about it before now. She wanted to know why.”
“I want to know why she’s dredging it all up again. You were a mess.”
“I’ll grant you that. I hate that it’s being dredged up, but, in all honesty, it needed to be.” She was about to say something more, but he held up his hand. “Listen a minute. I can’t go into the nitty-gritty, but the situation could become complicated.”
“For you?”
“Yes. Beth’s probing—”
“Her name is Beth?”
“Beth Collins. Her probing has yanked the tail of a tiger. Some people inside the PD aren’t too happy with me for talking to her.” He didn’t want to tell her yet that he’d been fired and add to her upset. Nor did he want to frighten her, but she needed to be cautioned.
“Till things settle down, stay aware of your surroundings. Tell me if you see anybody lurking around, or anything that’s out of the ordinary. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said with apprehension.
He reached over and patted her hand. “I’m on top of it, but just pay attention to what’s going on around you. If something feels off, heed that instinct. Got it?” She nodded. “Good. Now let’s talk about you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m okay.”
“That’s why you called me in the wee hours, bawling your eyes out? Because you’re okay? Because there’s nothing the matter?”
“Nothing new.” Tears filled her eyes, and she said in a stage whisper, “I hate her!”
“Molly—”
“Dad, you don’t know.”
“I do know.”
“Then why do I have to live with her?”
“Because the judge said so.”
“She is such a bitch. How did you stand to be married to her? She’s silly and selfish and shallow. She has this new boyfriend. He’s gross.” She shuddered.
John’s blood pressure spiked. “He doesn’t fool with you, does he?”
“No.”
“You swore you would tell me if any of her boyfriends ever—”
“None have and he doesn’t. If anything, he pretends I’m not there.”
He relaxed. “What’s gross about him?”
“He comes and goes. Moves in, moves out. When he’s not there, she whines. When he is there, they fight. She accuses him of having another woman, and he probably does. I have to listen to all of it.”
John rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I know, sweetheart. I hate it for you. I hate it for me. But you can’t change the situation, and neither can I. We just have to cope until you’re of age.”
“She doesn’t like me living with her any more than I like being there. Maybe if you asked her again to let me live with you, she—”
“She would never agree. You know that. It has nothing to do with you. She’s spiting me. And I can’t afford to fight her in court. Besides, by the time we filed all the paperwork and got a court date, you’ll be eighteen.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long, Dad. I really don’t.”
“We made a deal.”
“I know.”
“We exchanged promises.”
She nodded, looking so forlorn, he hesitated to continue, but knew he must.
“If you break your promise to me, Molly, the deal’s off. And I mean it. If you put me through that again, there’ll be no negotiation, no compromise, no ‘I’m sorry, Dad, I’ll never do it again.’ Understand me?” Her lips was trembling, but she nodded. “Let me hear you say it.”
“I understand.”
“You uphold your end of the bargain, and I swear to you, I’ll uphold mine.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I just wish—”
“I know what you wish. I wish it, too. But even when we’re not under the same roof, I’m always there for you. Call me anytime, even in the wee hours.”
“To bawl my eyes out?”
“Especially for that. I don’t mind.” He gave her hand another squeeze, then looked at his watch. “It’s ten to nine. Time to hustle. And I want a private showing of that art project when you’re finished.”
“You’ll have one.”
When they got outside, they hugged again; then she motioned toward the car. “Can I meet her?”
“Now’s not really a good time. You’ve got class, we’ve got an appointment.”
“Does she live in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Sweet. Is she young or old?”
“Younger than older.”
“Is she cool?”
“Define cool.”
“Is she hot?”
“First cool, now hot. Why are you asking all these questions?”
She grinned. “Because you got all weird when you were talking about her.”
“All weird?”
She laughed. “Gonna be late. Bye.” She bussed him on the cheek and jogged off, turning once to wave as she rounded the corner of the building.
He walked over to the car and got in.
Beth said, “She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.”
“Everything all right?”
“For the time being.”
Beth didn’t fish for information, but he felt she was owed an explanation. “Teenage angst, but she’s got some legitimate grievances. She’s a great kid who deserved better parents. Roslyn didn’t fool anybody about her affairs, especially Molly. She’s abnormally intuitive.”
“I wonder where she gets that.”
He shot her a look, and she smiled cheekily.
Then he returned his eyes to the road and continued. “The divorce followed close on the heels of the Mellin case. The split was contentious, a real shit show. I was a wreck. Drinking too much. Angry all the time.
“Molly felt betrayed by her mother and wanted to stay with me, but the judge wouldn’t grant even joint custody. She had to go with her mother. Then, a few months into the new normal, Molly ran away.”
“Oh God, John.”
“Yeah. She was fourteen. Barely. Didn’t show up for school, didn’t come home that afternoon. Roslyn called and accused me of harboring her, enticing her by spoiling her.
“Of course, I went crazy with worry. Mitch and I cruised the streets all night looking for her. The next morning, the manager of a twenty-four-hour gas station found her sleeping on the floor of the ladies’ room. He talked her into giving him my phone number.”
“You must’ve been frantic.”
“Pulling my hair out. Then about a year ago, she did it again. That time she was gone for three days before she called me, crying, asked if I would come get her. She’d been walking the streets by day, going to a mission at night. She got frightened by some of the people who wandered in there.”
Beth murmured a sorrowful sound.
“That’s when she and I made a pact. She’s very artistic. From the time she could hold a crayon, drawing, painting was all she ever wanted to do. After I picked her up at that mission, and scolded her severely, I told her that if she would stop endangering herself like that, and stick it out with her mom, I would send her to an art conservatory in Manhattan.” He named it.
“I know of it. It’s renowned.”
“And expensive as hell. I’m still not sure how I’ll swing it—especially now that I’m unemployed—but that’s my deal with her. Last night she was so upset, I was half afraid she wouldn’t show up this morning. My heart clutched when I saw her. The good cop wanted to hold on to her and not let go. As bad cop, I emphasized that our deal is off if she runs away again.”
“I don’t think she will.”
“At least she’ll think twice. She wants that bright lights, big city school.”
“She also doesn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You think?”
“Yes, John. Based on what you’ve told me, you’re her person. When she’s falling apart, she turns to you for restoration. That should make you feel good.”
“It does.” He paused before adding, “Even if her timing last night was lousy.” He cast her a meaningful look.
She smiled shyly. “It was rather lousy.”
“Probably for the best, though,” he said, returning his eyes to the road. “I may have had more than a splash of bourbon in my float.”
“Oh. So you were looking at me through whiskey goggles.”
“You looked damned good. Felt even better.” He braked for a traffic light and turned his head toward her. “Only a distress call from my daughter could have made me stop.”
“Not true. I could have stopped you.”
“Would you have?”
“Not in a million,” she whispered.
His cock didn’t get the message that now wasn’t the time to act on the invitation behind the sultry look she was giving him. “Fair warning, Beth. I won’t forget you said that.” He reached across the console and placed his hand high on her thigh. “In the meantime, thanks for putting up with the Bowie family drama.”
“You’re welcome.” She spoke softly, and they continued looking at each other until the light turned green.
When they were moving again, she said, “While waiting for you I made some calls. One was to my landlord to ask if the leaky faucet in my bathroom had been seen to. I also called Victor Wallace, the sociology professor. I obtained his number through the college office. The words Crisis Point are as good as ‘open sesame.’”
“Or ‘police officer.’” She smiled, and he asked, “Was the professor open to talking to you?”
She laughed. “Yes. He wanted to know if our interview would be on TV. I had to let him down gently. He was on his way to class and couldn’t talk then. We scheduled a Zoom for later this afternoon.”
“Progress,” he said.
“Then why are you frowning?”
“It’s happening too damn slow.”
Just then, a phone rang. He had a collection of burners in a ziplock bag in the floorboard. He fished around in it until he found the one ringing. It was one of the police officers working with him in secret. He answered quickly. “I’m here.”
“Barker issued a warrant for your arrest. He and the ogre also had a closed-door meeting. Ogre left it licking his chops. Watch your back.”
“Thanks. Don’t use this number again. I’ll call you on another.”
He disconnected and said to Beth, “Never a dull moment.”