Blood Of Angels (21 page)

'Fuck,' he slurred, jerking upright. He'd fallen asleep on his side and so banged his head on the wall. He flapped out with his hand, knowing now that the ringing sound was his phone. Finally found it where it had slid off the bed and fallen to the floor.

The screen said 'K CELL.'

'Hey,' he said. He opened his mouth and eyes as wide as he could, trying to wake up, half of his mind still somewhere else.

Karen didn't say anything. It sounded like she was crying.

'Babe, what is it? What's the problem?'

She sniffed, hard. He could hear her swallowing.

'Oh my God,' she said. 'They found Pete.'

Lee sat on one of the couches in his parents' living room. The detectives sat opposite, the big windows behind making them appear as silhouettes. This was fine by Lee. It rendered them anonymous. He'd already figured the one with the moustache was the boss. That was all he needed to know.

'Do you want me to stay?'

Ryan Hudek stood in the doorway. He was dressed in chinos and a pale blue Lacoste and had reacted imperturbably to the arrival of policemen at his house. On being told they were looking for his son he had asked why, and stepped aside when it had been explained — after he had checked ID. Lee was glad his father was in the house. He felt curiously young this afternoon.

'No, that's okay,' he said.

His dad gave him a small upwards nod of the head. 'I'll be around,' he said. 'If you change your mind.'

The moustached detective looked down at his hands and waited until the sound of Ryan Hudek's footsteps had receded down the hall. There was the sound of the door to the back yard opening and then sliding shut again with a quiet thud. Then he looked up and straight at Lee.

'Okay,' he said. 'Sorry to come hunt you down at your folks' place, but you weren't at home when we called around there.'

'No,' Lee said, evenly. 'I was here.'

'Right. Very understandable. Friend of mine turned up dead, a good friend, I'd want the support of friends and family.'

Lee said nothing. Instinct told him not to volunteer answers to non-questions.

The detective paused, started again. 'I'm sorry to bring you the news about Peter Voss.'

'You didn't,' Lee said. 'I heard an hour and a half ago.'

'Someone called you? Who was that?'

'Couple people. Word went around fast. I still can't believe it.'

'You can't remember who the first person was?'

Lee pretended to think. 'Sorry. I was pretty shaken up.'

'Of course. When was the last time you saw Peter?'

'Pete,' Lee said. 'Nobody called him Peter. I saw him, guess it would have been late Friday morning.'

The detective frowned. 'You didn't see him at the Luchs party?'

'I don't think so. I got there a little late. Time I arrived, he'd gone, I guess.'

'So you'd be surprised if we said we had someone who'd seen you talking to Peter at the party.'

'Not majorly, but I don't remember it. Pete and I talked the whole time. I don't, like, make a note of the occasions. Why — did somebody say that?'

'No.'

Lee shrugged. 'Okay. Kind of a weird question, then.'

'So you saw him Friday. Under what circumstances?'

'At the mall, just before noon? We split some fries, then he went. Had to go meet some guy, or something. Seemed to be a thing he didn't want to be late for, anyway.'

The first part of this was true. Lee had seen Pete at the Belle Isle mall that Friday morning, but from a distance and they hadn't spoken. Voss had been on his own, however, so nobody was going to know the difference.

'Did he seem to have anything else on his mind when you spoke? Did he seem unusual in any way? Worried? Distracted?'

'Not really. I mean, Pete was always kind of out there. We talked about how we'd hang out at Karen's on Saturday, early. He had some other party for later on that night, but he wasn't specific about it.'

The other detective spoke. 'You think it's possible it might have involved whoever he was going to meet after you on the Friday?'

Lee considered. 'Could be, I guess. But he didn't say anything about it to me.'

'And you heard nothing after that?'

'Nothing.'

'Peter's mom said her son seemed to have an unusual amount of cash last week. Bought himself new clothes, expensive gifts for her and his father. You know anything about that?'

Lee shook his head.

'Nice place you got over in Summer Hills.'

'Thank you.'

'Looks expensive.'

Lee shrugged.
You want to ask me a question, ask it direct.

'How much information did your caller have? The first who told you about Peter. Whoever that was.'

'Nobody knew details. Just said that Pete was dead.'

Moustache made a show of referring to his notes. 'The body was found up in the Santa Ynez mountains, just shy of the Los Padres National Forest. It was hidden a few hundred yards off a hiking trail. Somebody blew most of his head off and tried to bury him but made a crappy job of it. Didn't dig the hole deep enough.'

'It's always the way,' the other detective said, meditatively. 'Just fucking lazy, most of these people.'

'Anyway, so, coyotes sniffed it out. By the time they'd dragged it up and been at it, it was in even more of a mess. Luckily some kids on bikes found it pretty quickly. But still. It was pretty bad.'

'Yeah, really,' the other guy said. 'Tore up. Heat, death and vermin. It's a bad combination.'

'Do you mind?' Lee said, loudly. 'This guy was my friend.'

Moustache looked up. 'Oh, I'm sorry…'

'No you're not. Just show some respect. For me, and for him.'

The cop stared at him and Lee stared right back.

'I apologize for our insensitivity,' the other one said, after a long, long beat. 'Occupational hazard.'

'Just don't talk to his parents the way you have me,' Lee said. 'Or you'll be living in a world of hurt.'

For just a moment, he felt a little rocked. Was Moustache actually the lead guy after all? For a second there, you wondered whether it was his pale friend who was the boss.

'We've already been there,' the cop said. 'But point taken.'

'Okay,' Moustache said, quietly, 'if we need anything else, we'll be in touch. You want to just check your cell phone for me, see who that first call was from?'

'Sure.' Lee got his phone out, hit buttons, completely someone who wasn't even a little bothered what the answer was. He found it and nodded. 'That's right. It was Brad. Of course.'

'Bradley Metzger?'

'Yes. Karen called him, he called me straight after.'

'Because you three guys were friends. Good friends.'

'That's right.'

The cops stood up together and Lee saw them to the door. As they stepped out of the house, Moustache turned. 'Oh yeah, one thing you could confirm. Did Peter usually carry his cell phone?'

'All the time,' Lee said. 'Why?'

'Can't find it,' the cop said. 'Not on or near the body, not at his house. His mom tried calling it, and it rings, so I guess the battery's not run dry yet. You didn't find it at your place or anything? He didn't drop it there sometime?'

'No,' Lee said. 'He had it when I last saw him Friday. In the mall.'

'Well, they're slippery things. Can fall out anywhere. We'll keep an eye out for it.'

Lee watched as they walked down to their car. He waited until they'd backed out of the driveway and then stood a little longer, staring out into the world, thinking:

You lied to the cops. The world's different now.

'Not so tough, were they?' said a voice.

Lee turned, startled, to see his mother standing just behind him in a silver robe. He hadn't even realized she was in the house.

She wasn't wearing sunglasses and her eyes looked floaty but she did appear to be seeing him.

'You did very well,' she said. 'The respect part was a nice touch.'

She ran her finger down his cheek, very briefly, and then wafted out of the room, to go who knew where.

===OO=OOO=OO===

'It's me.'

'Hey babe. You okay?'

Karen sighed. 'Well, kinda. You know.'

'Yeah. Where are you?'

'Out by the pool. Just sitting around. If I stay in the house Mom keeps coming by to ask how I am, which is nice of her, but, you know.'

'Yeah.'

'She's going to go see Pete's mom later.'

'I didn't realize they knew each other so well.'

'Well, I don't think they do, but, you know, Pete's dead.'

Brad nodded even though Karen wouldn't hear it. Pete was indeed dead. In a way the fact this had become public knowledge made it a little easier. It had changed from being a murky thing which had to be hidden at all costs, obfuscated in the hope the fact would simply fade away, to something irrevocably sharper and clearer. The known now accurately represented reality: the facts were in place. The job became making sure those facts didn't fall down and squash you flat.

Lee had called after the cops interviewed him and told Brad what he'd said. Brad had passed on Steve's enquiry about the week's pickup and Lee said he didn't know. Hernandez was still not returning calls. It didn't seem like a good notion on the whole but they'd see. Brad was relieved to hear this, as privately he thought it would be a fucking
terrible
idea to deal drugs right now. 'You still there?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Just, you know, thinking.'

'Yeah.' She was quiet for a while, and Brad thought she was maybe gearing up to sign off. But then she spoke again.

'Can I ask you something?'

'Sure.'

'You don't know anything about this, do you?'

Brad opened his mouth but nothing came out. He coughed and then tried again. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean, it's just, you and Pete and Lee were so tight, you know? I just wondered if Pete had some secret or something, something you guys knew about but weren't supposed to tell?'

'No,' Brad said, relieved. 'Yeah, we were tight. We were like blood. Pete didn't have nothing weird going on that I knew about.'

'Okay,' she said. For some reason the way she said it made him feel cautious again. Okay… what? Okay, thanks for the information? Okay, I believe you? Okay, I don't, actually — but I'm not going to call you on it right now?

'It's just…' she said.

'It's just what, babe?'

'You know at the party, when you and Lee went to get burgers? I saw you out in front of the house before you left?'

'My angel of fire. What about it?'

'Well, I was thinking about that earlier and I thought when Lee came around the side to meet you there, didn't he say something like 'He's on his way', or 'On his way', or something?'

Brad spoke very carefully. 'I don't remember it.'

'I'm sure he did. Something like that. Because, also, I went to see Sara and Randy off, but you guys just kept standing there. Like you were waiting for someone.'

'Nope,' Brad said. After a split second his brain provided. 'It was just, I was having a cigarette, remember? And Lee doesn't always like it in his car. I wanted to finish up before we left.'

'Oh, okay,' she said.

They talked of this and that for a little while, then just before the call ended, she said: 'Brad?'

'Yeah?'

'You think they'll get who did it?'

'I don't know,' he said.

'I do,' she said, quietly. 'I think they will.'

===OO=OOO=OO===

After he'd called Brad, Lee had left his parents' house and drove around a while before finally heading back to his own place. He went inside and fixed coffee and sat drinking it at the spotless table in the kitchen. He resisted the urge to pull the car into the garage and search it for Pete's phone. He knew it wasn't there. He'd have seen it when he cleaned the car on the night of the shooting.

But — assuming the cop hadn't been lying in an attempt to knock him off balance — it was kind of strange. Pete's phone was a fixture. He would have had it surgically implanted if he could. He must have had it with him that night. So where the hell was it?

It didn't matter. Most likely it had fallen out of his pocket, somewhere between the parking lot where the shooting had taken place and the spot where they'd buried him. Humping him along in the dark, nobody would have noticed. Whatever. Even if somebody found the phone it made no difference. It didn't tie them to what had happened.

But still.

For a moment he sat with his head slumped forward. It could have not happened. It could all so easily have not happened, not be true.

He took the call from Hernandez. He could have not done.

He said 'yes'. He could have said 'no'.

Small difference. Big difference.

It could all have not happened.

He remained sitting that way for ten minutes. Then he went out front, pulled the car into the garage, and searched it.

There was no phone.

He was washing up his hands in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He assumed it was probably Brad come to freak out at him, but opened it to find a much older man standing outside.

'Mr Reynolds,' he said, confused by the fact there was no car out in the road. 'What are you doing here?'

The lawyer walked straight past him and into the house. 'I need you to tell me what you told them.'

'Told who?'

'The police, Lee. Who do you think?'

'Why do you want to know?'

'Because it's now my job to provide you with legal advice. Should it become necessary, which I hope it will not.'

'Did my dad hire you?'

'No he didn't.'

'So who…'

'Tell me, Lee. Every question, every answer. Every single thing.'

Lee ran through the interview with the two detectives. Reynolds listened closely. By the time Lee finished he was looking serious.

'You realize you're now an accessory to murder? You and Metzger would get serious jail time for that alone. You're not juveniles any more, hard though that can be to believe. If they tie this to the drugs and the DEA gets involved then you may as well throw away the key.'

'But how would they do that?'

'Why else were you in a deserted parking lot miles from anywhere in the dark? Why else would you hide the body?'