Chapter 19
Hugo
I peek into the large meeting room where Bess and Phil are focused on a laptop on the boardroom table in front of them. They don’t even notice me.
I’m on my way to Savvy’s office. Apparently, Special Agent Mancuso showed up a few minutes ago, and Althof is on his way back. I’m crossing my fingers the fed is bringing us some good news, because we’ve been spinning our wheels most of the morning.
Mancuso gets to his feet as soon as I walk into the office.
“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. Jason Mancuso.”
“No, we haven’t. Hugo Alexander.”
His handshake is firm, but he doesn’t try to break my fingers, which counts in his favor. I hate guys who are trying to prove themselves that way. They may as well whip out their dick and a measuring tape. Dumb
“What did I miss?”
“Not much yet,” Savvy notes. “We’ll wait for Althof to get here instead of repeating things.”
No sooner has she spoken, when Rick walks in, breathing heavy like he’s been running.
“Tell me,” he prompts, not bothering with introductions or greetings.
I don’t blame him. I know he’s been going nonstop since this case landed on his desk, and probably feels like he’s chasing his tail.
Other than a dead firebug, the witness accounts of a drunk, and a lot of theories, hearsay, and assumptions, there isn’t a hell of a lot of concrete evidence to hang this case on.
Hell, we can’t even put our hands on people we’d like to question.
“One of the Seattle Gang Task Force’s CIs came through with an interesting bit of information,” Mancuso starts.
“As I assume you know, the Lotus Squad was founded by the Lee brothers, Mike, Shane, and Joon. Shane, the middle brother, has always taken the lead, with Mike, the oldest, managing the business side. From what we can tell, the younger one, Joon, didn’t really have a set role within the organization.
If anything, he was an enforcer. The muscle, if you will. ”
“Was?” Savvy picks up on.
The agent turns to her and confirms, “Was. He fell off the face of the earth twenty-one years ago. Just disappeared. Plenty of rumors went around at the time—he’d stolen money and taken off, the brothers had a falling out, a rival gang took him down—but nothing was ever confirmed and no sign of him was ever found. ”
I immediately think of Ken Choi, and the secret he supposedly spilled to a cellmate that prompted his own gang to come after him. I also wonder what, if anything, Bess might know about the missing Lee brother.
“You think Choi knows something about the disappearance,” I suggest to Mancuso.
“I know he does,” is the answer. “And what’s more, Shane Lee thinks he does. The CI overheard him order Ken Choi be found and brought to him alive, and to use whatever means to flush him out of hiding.”
“And they’re trying to use his sister to do that,” I observe.
A sober nod is his response.
“When was this?” Rick asks. “How old is that information?”
“Apparently, this was about a month ago. Which would fit the timeline of events here in Silence.”
“Do we know who he sent out?” Savvy wants to know. “Names, pictures, anything to help us look?”
“Yes,” Mancuso confirms as he bends down to pull some papers from a briefcase by his feet.
He hands out copies of what looks to be a gang hierarchy, listing known gang members and, if known, their role in the organization.
I’m shocked at the size. There are easily thirty or so names listed in the upper echelon of the Squad alone.
That’s not counting the second page with another list of names marked as foot soldiers.
It looks like the Lee brothers did okay for themselves with the large network they built.
“I’ll forward a link to a secure cloud folder that holds all the individual profiles, but the file was too big to print out.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Savvy thanks him.
“One other thing,” Mancuso mentions. “My boss was pushing for us to take over this investigation…”
I can almost hear Rick Althof’s teeth grinding. Although our office has always welcomed outside help, nobody is a fan of getting booted off their own investigation.
“But I’ve been able to convince him to hold off and let me stick around here to keep a finger on the pulse and help out where I can.”
The help is very welcome.
Especially since Savvy informed me earlier it looks like we’re going to have to wait to approach Tessa Androtti with an offer to join our department. One of the county commissioners has to undergo some kind of medical treatment, so this week’s scheduled meeting was postponed.
In all honesty, I wouldn’t object if the FBI decided to take over the entire investigation, because that would allow me to focus on keeping Bess safe. Heck, I could take her away somewhere; we could lay low until any threat is eliminated.
That wouldn’t be bad; maybe somewhere warm, with a beach, and with only the bare minimum of clothing needed, if any.
I’m rudely yanked from my daytime fantasies when Savvy calls me to attention.
“Hey, Hugo. I said, are you on board?”
My blank look betrays my ignorance on the subject.
“Not sure where you were for a moment, but it looked like someplace good. Care to share?” Savvy teases.
“Not on your life,” I grumble, causing her to laugh at my expense.
“I was suggesting Rick take a couple of hours to go home, shower, have a nap and a meal, while you get Agent Mancuso a copy of our case file and maybe walk him through the crime scenes to get him up to speed with where we are.”
Crap.
I’d told Bess we’d hit up the grocery store for some supplies, and I still have to figure out what to do about Carson, who is coming home tonight. It doesn’t look like Bess is going anywhere but back home with me. We are nowhere near in the clear yet by any stretch of the imagination.
“Sure,” I answer grudgingly.
Moments later, with Althof gone home for a break and Mancuso off to the restrooms, Savvy turns to me.
“What was that all about?” she asks a tad sharply.
“What was what all about?”
“You hesitated.”
“Bess,” I reply honestly. “I don’t like the idea of leaving her alone.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I know, and it’s fine. It was just logistics. I’ll probably be a while and she’ll be here waiting. We were supposed to grab some groceries because the fridge is empty, and also, Carson is back tonight and I’m not sure what to do about that. But I’ll figure it out.”
“Carson is seventeen. Why don’t you call and let him help you work that part out. Or, if Nate’s okay with it, he can crash at ours. Tatum could ride to school with him and save us a drive. As for the groceries, I was going to stop and grab a few things on my way home. I can take Bess.”
Again, I hesitate.
“You can trust me, you know,” Savvy adds with a smirk. “I wear a badge and a gun and everything.”
I would trust Savvy with my life any day of the week, but this isn’t about me.
It’s about Bess.
Bess
“I really appreciate this.”
My friend tosses me a grin. “Not a big deal.”
I asked her to make an extra stop at The General Store on Elm Street to see if maybe they have a hand mixer.
It’s one thing Hugo’s kitchen is missing, and I’d really like to do a little baking, starting with the quiche I’m hoping to make us for dinner tonight.
I already have all the necessary ingredients in the cooler bag in the back of Savvy’s SUV.
“Hang on. Let me get out first,” she says as she pulls into the parking bay in front of the store.
Similar to what Hugo does, she rounds the front of the vehicle and looks up and down the street before opening the door for me.
“I’m starting to feel a little awkward with this whole routine,” I confess as I get out.
“I know, but we’re merely being cautious. It’s unlikely anyone is going to try anything in broad daylight in the middle of town anyway, but better safe than sorry.”
I can’t really argue with that, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, everyone is looking out for me.
As I am every time I walk into this store, I am completely overwhelmed with the sheer volume of products it carries.
There isn’t a square inch of shelf or wall space left that isn’t packed with a random mix of items ranging from toothpicks to engine parts.
The General Store is a world of its own, and walking in here is like stepping into an alternate universe.
One of knickknacks and nostalgia, quality and kitsch, history and innovation jumbled together on every shelf.
Nobody comes out to offer help. If you want help, you find your way to the counter at the back of the store, where most of the time you’ll find Mabel Jenkins knitting another afghan or baby sweater to be donated to a family in need somewhere.
That reminds me, Mabel would be a good person to approach about Phil’s initiative. If there’s anyone in the know about the needs of the people of Silence, it would be Mabel.
Not today though. Today I look forward to the challenge of rummaging through the century-old, jam-packed store by myself, on my quest for a handheld mixer. A little highlight in what are pretty bleak days.
“Do you even know if they have one?” Savvy asks behind me, sneezing when I lift a folded fur partially covering a box I can’t identify.
“Nope, but don’t yuck my yum,” I warn her, sad to find the box contains a wrench set and not the object of my desire.
Savvy does not share my love for this place, which is why I’m so appreciative she’s indulging me.
She’s commented many times over the years how the place is a fire risk, no longer structurally sound, and a hazard to the public’s safety.
She’s probably right on all those accounts, but even as our sheriff, she’d have a hell of a time trying to close down this treasured store.
She’d have a riot on her hands, and I might be leading the mob.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “But I’m about to pee my pants here. This baby has decided on top of my bladder is its new favorite hangout.”
“So go to the bathroom,” I prompt her. “I’m sure Mabel will let you use it.”
“You’ll have to come with me, I can’t leave you alone.”
I snort in amusement.
“Alone?” I direct a pointed look at one of the many mirrors on the ceiling. Mabel’s own security system allows her to keep an eye on every nook and cranny of this store.
“Trust me when I say, Big Sister is watching us.”
In the mirror’s reflection I catch Mabel putting down her crochet hook to wiggle her fingers at us.
“Oh, all right. But don’t you go anywhere,” Savvy concedes.
“Where am I gonna go?”
But she’s already moving to the back, shuffling sideways through the narrow aisles, and I resume my search.
“Goes faster if you ask,” Mabel’s disembodied voice calls out.
“I know, but what’s the fun in that?” I yell back.
My eye catches something on the shelving unit in front of the store window.
It’s a set of individual pudding forms that look like pretty little Bundt cakes.
It would look really neat to bake cupcakes in those.
They’d come out with a little divot in the middle I could fill with a compote or fresh fruit.
I reach to pick one up when a sharp rap on the window outside draws my attention. Bending down, I peek between the two shelves.
I’m shocked when I see my brother standing outside the window. He’s waving for me to come outside and is nervously looking over his shoulder.
“Please,” I can barely hear his voice, but his plea is unmistakable.
Regardless of the bad things he’s done, he’s still my brother, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t still love him. Despite the pull on my heartstrings, I stop myself from running outside. I’m not an idiot.
But when he suddenly spins around as a white van pulls up, coming to a sudden stop, the bottom falls out of my stomach. I already know nothing good can come of this when the side door of the van slides open, and two guys dressed all in black jump out.
“Savvy!” I yell, even as I catch sight of some kind of automatic weapon in the hands of one. “Savvy! We’ve got trouble!”
I can hear commotion in the back of the store as I watch my brother raising his hands. The two guys rush him, grab his arms, and half drag him to the waiting van.
Instinct has me running for the door, when I’m yanked back by the hem of my coat and hear Savvy hiss behind me.
“Get down and out of the way.”
Just as I duck to the side, I catch a glimpse of the van doors closing. When Savvy pulls open the door, I hear the engine rev as it takes off.
Taking my brother with it.