Finders Keepers (23 page)

Barbara wrinkles her nose. “Came back for a week, and now he's gone again. He's taking his girlfriend, she's from Pennsylvania somewhere, to a
cotillion
. Does that sound racist to you? It does to me.”

Hodges is not going there. “Introduce me to your friend, why don't you?”

“This is Tina. She used to live on Hanover Street, just around the block from us. She wants to go to Chapel Ridge with me next year. Tina, this is Bill Hodges. He can help you.”

Hodges gives a little bow in order to hold out his hand to the white girl still sitting on the couch. She cringes back at first, then shakes it timidly. As she lets go, she begins to cry. “I shouldn't have come. Pete is going to be
so mad
at me.”

Ah, shit, Hodges thinks. He grabs a handful of tissues from the box on the desk, but before he can give them to Tina, Barbara takes them and wipes the girl's eyes. Then she sits down on the couch again and hugs her.

“Tina,” Barbara says, and rather sternly, “you came to me and said you wanted help. This is help.” Hodges is amazed at how much she sounds like her mother. “All you have to do is tell him what you told me.”

Barbara turns her attention on Hodges.

“And you can't tell my folks, Bill. Neither can Holly. If you tell my dad, he'll tell Tina's dad. Then her brother really will be in trouble.”

“Let's put that aside for now.” Hodges works his swivel chair out from behind the desk—it's a tight fit, but he manages. He doesn't want a desk between himself and Barbara's frightened friend; he'd look too much like a school principal. He sits down, clasps his hands between his knees, and gives Tina a smile. “Let's start with your full name.”

“Tina Annette Saubers.”

Saubers. That tinkles a faint bell. Some old case? Maybe.

“What's troubling you, Tina?”

“My brother stole some money.” Whispering it. Eyes welling
again. “Maybe a lot of money. And he can't give it back, because it's gone. I told Barbara because I knew her brother helped stop the crazy guy who hurt our dad when the crazy guy tried to blow up a concert at the MAC. I thought maybe Jerome could help me, because he got a special medal for bravery and all. He was on TV.”

“Yes,” Hodges says. Holly should have been on TV, too—she was just as brave, and they sure wanted her—but during that phase of her life, Holly Gibney would have swallowed drain-cleaner rather than step in front of television cameras and answer questions.

“Only Barbs said Jerome was in Pennsylvania and I should talk to you instead, because you used to be a policeman.” She looks at him with huge, welling eyes.

Saubers, Hodges muses. Yeah, okay. He can't remember the man's first name, but the last one is hard to forget, and he knows why that little bell tinkled. Saubers was one of those badly hurt at City Center, when Hartsfield plowed into the job fair hopefuls.

“At first I was going to talk to you on my own,” Barbara adds. “That's what me and Tina agreed on. Kind of, you know, feel you out and see if you'd be willing to help. But then Teens came to my school today and she was all upset—”

“Because he's
worse
now!” Tina bursts out. “I don't know what happened, but since he grew that stupid moustache, he's
worse
! He talks in his sleep—I hear him—and he's losing weight and he's got pimples again, which in Health class the teacher says can be from stress, and . . . and . . . I think sometimes he
cries
.” She looks amazed at this, as if she can't quite get her head around the idea of her big brother crying. “What if he kills himself? That's what I'm really scared of, because teen suicide is a
big problem
!”

More fun facts from Health class, Hodges thinks. Not that it isn't true.

“She's not making it up,” Barbara says. “It's an amazing story.”

“Then let's hear it,” Hodges says. “From the beginning.”

Tina takes a deep breath and begins.

20

If asked, Hodges would have said he doubted that a thirteen-year-old's tale of woe could surprise, let alone amaze him, but he's amazed, all right. Fucking astounded. And he believes every word; it's too crazy to be a fantasy.

By the time Tina has finished, she's calmed down considerably. Hodges has seen this before. Confession may or may not be good for the soul, but it's undoubtedly soothing to the nerves.

He opens the door to the outer office and sees Holly sitting at her desk, playing computer solitaire. Beside her is a bag filled with enough energy bars to feed the four of them during a zombie siege. “Come in here, Hols,” he says. “I need you. And bring those.”

Holly steps in tentatively, checks Tina Saubers out, and seems relieved by what she sees. Each of the girls takes an energy bar, which seems to relieve her even more. Hodges takes one himself. The salad he had for lunch seems to have gone down the hatch a month ago, and the veggie burger hasn't really stuck to his ribs, either. Sometimes he still dreams of going to Mickey D's and ordering everything on the menu.

“This is good,” Barbara says, munching. “I got raspberry. What'd you get, Teens?”

“Lemon,” she says. “It
is
good. Thank you, Mr. Hodges. Thank you, Ms. Holly.”

“Barb,” Holly says, “where does your mom think you are now?”

“Movies,” Barbara says. “
Frozen
again, the sing-along version. It
plays every afternoon at Cinema Seven. It's been there like for-
ev
-er.” She rolls her eyes at Tina, who rolls hers in complicity. “Mom said we could take the bus home, but we have to be back by six at the very latest. Tina's staying over.”

That gives us a little time, Hodges thinks. “Tina, I want you to tell it all again, so Holly can hear. She's my assistant, and she's smart. Plus, she can keep a secret.”

Tina goes through it again, and in more detail now that she's calmer. Holly listens closely, her Asperger's-like tics mostly disappearing as they always do when she's fully engaged. All that remains are her restlessly moving fingers, tapping her thighs as if she's working at an invisible keyboard.

When Tina has come to the end, Holly asks, “The money started coming in February of 2010?”

“February or March,” Tina says. “I remember, because our folks were fighting a lot then. Daddy lost his job, see . . . and his legs were all hurt . . . and Mom used to yell at him about smoking, how much his cigarettes cost . . .”

“I hate yelling,” Holly says matter-of-factly. “It makes me sick in my stomach.”

Tina gives her a grateful look.

“The conversation about the doubloons,” Hodges puts in. “Was that before or after the money-train started to roll?”

“Before. But not
long
before.” She gives the answer with no hesitation.

“And it was five hundred every month,” Holly says.

“Sometimes the time was a little shorter than that, like three weeks, and sometimes it was a little longer. When it was more than a month, my folks would think it was over. Once I think it was like six weeks, and I remember Daddy saying to Mom, ‘Well, it was good while it lasted.'”

“When was that?” Holly's leaning forward, eyes bright, fingers no longer tapping. Hodges loves it when she's like this.

“Mmm . . .” Tina frowns. “Around my birthday, for sure. When I was twelve. Pete wasn't there for my party. It was spring vacation, and his friend Rory invited him to go to Disney World with their family. That was a bad birthday, because I was so jealous he got to go and I . . .”

She stops, looking first at Barbara, then at Hodges, finally at Holly, upon whom she seems to have imprinted as Mama Duck. “That's
why
it was late that time! Isn't it?
Because he was in Florida
!”

Holly glances at Hodges with just the slightest smile edging her lips, then returns her attention to Tina. “Probably. Always twenties and fifties?”

“Yes. I saw it lots of times.”

“And it ran out when?”

“Last September. Around the time school started. There was a note that time. It said something like, ‘This is the last of it, I'm sorry there isn't more.'”

“And how long after that was it when you told your brother you thought he was the one sending the money?”

“Not very long. And he never exactly admitted it, but I know it was him. And maybe this is all my fault because I kept talking to him about Chapel Ridge . . . and he said he wished the money wasn't all gone so I could go . . . and maybe he did something stupid and now he's sorry, and it's too l-l-late!”

She starts crying again. Barbara enfolds her and makes comforting sounds. Holly's finger-tapping resumes, but she shows no other signs of distress; she's lost in her thoughts. Hodges can almost see the wheels turning. He has his own questions, but for the time being, he's more than willing to let Holly take the lead.

When Tina's weeping is down to sniffles, Holly says, “You said
you came in one night and he had a notebook he acted guilty about. He put it under his pillow.”

“That's right.”

“Was that near the end of the money?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Was it one of his school notebooks?”

“No. It was black, and looked expensive. Also, it had an elastic strap that went around the outside.”

“Jerome has notebooks like that,” Barbara said. “They're made of moleskin. May I have another energy bar?”

“Knock yourself out,” Hodges tells her. He grabs a pad from his desk and jots
Moleskine
. Then, returning his attention to Tina: “Could it have been an accounts book?”

Tina frowns in the act of peeling the wrapper from her own energy bar. “I don't get you.”

“It's possible he was keeping a record of how much he'd paid out and how much was left.”

“Maybe, but it looked more like a fancy diary.”

Holly is looking at Hodges. He tips her a nod:
Continue
.

“This is all good, Tina. You're a terrific witness. Don't you think so, Bill?”

He nods.

“So, okay. When did he grow his moustache?”

“Last month. Or maybe it was the end of April. Mom and Daddy both told him it was silly, Daddy said he looked like a drugstore cowboy, whatever that is, but he wouldn't shave it off. I thought it was just something he was going through.” She turns to Barbara. “You know, like when we were little and you tried to cut your hair yourself to look like Hannah Montana's.”

Barbara grimaces. “Please don't talk about that.” And to Hodges: “My mother hit the
roof
.”

“And since then, he's been upset,” Holly says. “Since the moustache.”

“Not so much at first, although I could tell he was nervous even then. It's really only been the last couple of weeks that he's been scared. And now
I'm
scared!
Really
scared!”

Hodges checks to see if Holly has more. She gives him a look that says
Over to you
.

“Tina, I'm willing to look into this, but it has to begin with talking to your brother. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” she whispers. She carefully places her second energy bar, with only one bite gone, on the arm of the sofa. “Oh my God, he'll be so mad at me.”

“You might be surprised,” Holly says. “He might be relieved that someone finally forced the issue.”

Holly, Hodges knows, is the voice of experience in this regard.

“Do you think so?” Tina asks. Her voice is small.

“Yes.” Holly gives a brisk nod.

“Okay, but you can't this weekend. He's going up to River Bend Resort. It's a thing for class officers, and he got elected vice president next year. If he's still in school next year, that is.” Tina puts the palm of her hand to her forehead in a gesture of distress so adult that it fills Hodges with pity. “If he isn't in
jail
next year. For
robbery
.”

Holly looks as distressed as Hodges feels, but she's not a toucher and Barbara is too horrified by this idea to be motherly. It's up to him. He reaches over and takes Tina's small hands in his big ones.

“I don't think that's going to happen. But I
do
think Pete might need some help. When does he come back to the city?”

“S-Sunday night.”

“Suppose I were to meet him after school on Monday. Would that work?”

“I guess so.” Tina looks utterly drained. “He mostly rides the bus, but you could probably catch him when he leaves.”

“Are
you
going to be all right this weekend, Tina?”

“I'll make sure she is,” Barbara says, and plants a smack on her friend's cheek. Tina responds with a wan smile.

“What's next for you two?” Hodges asks. “It's probably too late for the movie.”

“We'll go to my house,” Barbara decides. “Tell my mom we decided to skip it. That's not exactly lying, is it?”

“No,” Hodges agrees. “Do you have enough for another taxi?”

“I can drive you if you don't,” Holly offers.

“We'll take the bus,” Barbara says. “We both have passes. We only took a taxi here because we were in a hurry. Weren't we, Tina?”

“Yes.” She looks at Hodges, then back to Holly. “I'm so worried about him, but you can't tell our folks, at least not yet. Do you promise?”

Hodges promises for both of them. He can't see the harm in it, if the boy is going to be out of the city over the weekend with a bunch of his classmates. He asks Holly if she'll go down with the girls and make sure they get on to the West Side bus okay.

She agrees. And makes them take the leftover energy bars. There are at least a dozen.