Chapter 15 Diem #2
Tallus, not to be outdone, ordered the same amount of food—peanut butter cookies for him—and grinned devilishly when I mumbled, “Really? Four cookies.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“I thought you were sixty-five.”
“My stomach is sixteen.”
Wasn’t that the truth. Tallus’s appetite didn’t surprise me anymore.
I wasn’t sure where he put it. He was one of those people who could eat a metric ton of food without gaining an ounce, and for a guy who hated the mere thought of working out, it should not have been possible, but he was as slim and trim as ever.
I stuck with a loaded six-inch meat lovers and a Dr Pepper.
We sat in a booth by the window, tucked away in the corner. Most customers didn’t stay to eat, ordering their meals to go, so we had a bit of privacy.
The kid ate a cookie, assessing Tallus and me like he expected us to sprout tentacles or transform into aliens.
I wanted to tell him this wasn’t an abduction, but it kind of was.
I’d chased him down and tackled him in the street before using my daunting size and charming personality to get him to the restaurant.
When he unwrapped his sandwich and seemed settled, I opened the conversation.
“Start with your name. Don’t make me ask again.
My patience is balancing on a razor’s edge right now.
I’m going through a nasty bout of nicotine and alcohol withdrawal, and my body is beat the fuck up, no thanks to you, so let’s not play games. ”
“You’re the one who came after me. I was defending myself.”
“Name.”
“Darcy.”
“Was that so hard? I’m Diem. This is Tallus. How old are you?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“How. Old. Are. You?”
“Why does that matter?”
I rubbed my temple and repeated the question a third time through clenched teeth.
The kid mumbled, “Turned nineteen last week.”
“Happy birthday,” Tallus said jovially.
Darcy gave him a dirty look and didn’t thank him. He took a huge bite of his sandwich instead, as though fearing the confrontation would turn to shit before he got a chance to fill his belly.
I let him eat while I picked at my sub.
Darcy wolfed down his sandwich at such a velocity that I feared he might choke.
“It’s not going anywhere.”
He didn’t slow down.
When Tallus looked like he was about to dive into the thick of things, I nudged his knee, subtly shaking my head.
He wasn’t used to me taking the lead with conversations, and ordinarily, I would have preferred Tallus take over, but not this time.
I sensed Darcy would respond better to me, not because I frightened him, but because I understood him.
Tallus finished his sandwich and was about to dive into dessert when I asked him to take a walk and see if he could find dog food for Echo somewhere.
I earned a scowl and imagined he wasn’t pleased with the dismissal, but I had a hunch Darcy would be chattier if he didn’t feel like we were ganging up on him.
“Can’t it wait?”
“No. She hasn’t eaten in ages.”
“Fine. Do not eat my cookies.” Tallus pointed a warning finger in my face.
“I don’t want your cookies.”
He moved the finger to Darcy and leveled him with a similar threat. “I will kill you with my bare hands.”
My boyfriend earned another dirty look.
“Go, Tallus.”
He went, reluctantly.
Darcy crumpled his sub wrapper and added it to the tray of garbage. His cookies were gone, his Coke empty. He longingly eyed Tallus’s treats.
“Don’t even think about it. He’ll turn into a velociraptor if you eat his desserts. Do you need more food?”
Darcy shook his head and fidgeted, spinning the ring on his index finger. I got a clear view of his ink. ANTI HERO. I wanted to ask for the story behind it but knew better. Tattoos were personal, and if I didn’t want to share about mine, I couldn’t expect him to share about his.
“Who are you working for?”
With rising panic, Darcy blubbered, “No one. I swear.”
I sighed and repeated the question with more emphasis. “Who are you working for?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t.”
I shoved the tray of garbage aside and folded my hands on the table, leaning in and lowering my voice. “Am I to believe that a scummy little brat like you single-handedly created an untraceable mule account and scammed Elwood Scarrow out of thirty thousand dollars all by yourself… Kael?”
Darcy’s cheeks flushed, eyes widening with incredulity. “That’s not… Fuck me. Thirty thousand? Are you sure you’ve got your facts straight?”
“You didn’t know it was that much money, did you?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do nothin’.”
“You’re the brains behind this scam? Not a chance, but I have you on video entering and leaving Evergreen and signing in as Kael Scarrow, who, by the way, is living overseas and hasn’t been home in over a year.
I have a staff member who identified you, who gave you a cigarette, and shared a bus with you.
She gave us a perfect physical description, tattoos and ring included. ”
Darcy tucked his hands beneath the table, guilt burning hot circles on his cheeks. “You’re wrong.”
“I have a senior citizen with all his faculties intact who could easily pick you out of a lineup without blinking. The police will lock you away for a long, long time. Identity theft. Fraud. Money laundering. You’re looking at twenty years at least. Upwards of forty.
I could come up with more charges if I got creative.
You’d be older than me by the time they let you out.
All it would take is one phone call. I used to work for the department, kid.
I have sway, and I can have you arrested before morning. Think about it.”
I spun my cell phone on the table for emphasis and noted an objection taking shape on Darcy’s lips.
I held up a finger. “Or… you can tell me everything, and I’ll hunt down the person who is really responsible and do all I can to minimize your involvement.”
“I needed the money, but I didn’t take thirty thousand dollars. I swear.”
“I believe you, but thirty thousand is what’s missing, and I doubt Elwood is the sole victim. I also believe you had no idea what kind of scam you were involved in. I’m curious. What was your cut?”
Darcy seemed reluctant to talk, so I repeated the question. This was getting tiresome.
“Five hundred per visit,” he finally said, shrinking in his seat and peering miserably at the empty wrappers on the tray.
His cheeks turned pink, and he went to town on the ring, spinning it in nauseating circles.
“I needed to cover my share of the rent, or I would get kicked out. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Three visits to Scarrow at five hundred a pop. That’s fifteen hundred dollars. Do you realize that’s only five percent of what your employer pocketed?”
Darcy shrugged. “I don’t care what he makes, so long as he pays me what he promises.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Who’s he?”
“I don’t know.” The way Darcy obsessively flicked the ring told me differently.
“Bullshit.”
“For real. I don’t know. I’ve told you everything. Can I leave?”
“You haven’t told me shit, and if you walk out now, I’ll send the police to your door.”
Darcy buried his face in his hands, his ANTI HERO tattoos upside down from my vantage. Marcy was right. They appeared amateur, faded in spots, and had jagged, uneven lines. The letters weren’t uniform.
As I considered another path to get Darcy talking, the bell on the door chimed. Tallus entered, a can of dog food in hand. He asked for a disposable bowl and spoon from the teenager working at the counter and handed both to me.
“Only kind they had.” To Echo, he said, “Sorry, girl. It’s not the gourmet stuff you’re used to.”
Echo didn’t care. By that point, she was starving, and canned food was usually a treat. I hadn’t anticipated being away from the office all day, but she was a trooper.
I set her up with some dinner, and she ate hungrily. It was gone in less than a minute, and I knew it wasn’t enough to fill her, but it would tide her over until we got home.
Tallus settled in, checking to be sure no one had eaten his cookies. As he popped a chunk into his mouth and chewed, he leaned against my side and mock-whispered, “So, do I get to break fingers yet?”
Darcy’s eyes went wide, and his already pale skin drained of color.
“Not yet. My friend Darcy here was about to tell me the name of the guy he works for.”
“I wasn’t. I don’t know his name. I swear. What do I have to say so you’ll believe me?”
I let the question rest since he’d dug his heels in. We would circle back to it in time. “How did you get roped into this mess?”
“I can’t remember.” He lowered his gaze and spun the blasted ring.
I’d known the kid for less than an hour but had already picked up on his tells. Every time he lied, he broke eye contact, and his cheeks flamed. He aggressively spun the center part of his stupid ring until I wanted to yank it off his goddamn finger and chuck it out the door.
“The thing is, Darcy. I don’t think you’re that fucking stupid, and I know you don’t believe I am. Try again.”
He squirmed.
I waited.
“I… I bag groceries at Giant Tiger. Sometimes I stock shelves. It’s a part-time gig, and it pays shit, but they were the only place that would hire me. I have a… contact who introduced me to a guy who hires people for cash jobs.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything.
“You have a contact? Who?”
“It’s not important.”
“I see. He’s your drug dealer. Got it.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me, and I thought you weren’t a cop. What do you care?”
“I don’t, but you thought I was here because of drugs, so it’s not an unreasonable assumption.”
“He’s not my drug dealer. I don’t do drugs.”
He looked away.
“Another lie. I know you better than you think, Darcy.” I was you, I wanted to say. Our stories might seem different on the surface, but deep down, I suspect we’re more similar than you realize.