Loyalty (26 page)

“We can share,” Matthew offered. “I got a burger.”

“She doesn’t need a burger,” Elaine said, and she sipped her cocktail.

Sometimes, Fina had to fight the urge to reach into her purse and pull out her gun. She didn’t actually want to shoot her mother, but she wondered if the threat of violence would make Elaine back off and let her adult daughter, at the very least, order her own food.

“Where’s Haley?” Fina asked.

“She’s at her friend Sydney’s house,” Patty said as she took a large sip from her white wine.

“She really should be here with us,” Elaine said.

“She needs to be with her friends right now, Mom,” Patty said. “Just let her be a teenager.” Elaine sniffed, but was silent. Fina was in awe of Patty’s ability to manage her mother. She chalked it up to distance and the fact that Elaine hadn’t raised her. Patty was a good daughter-in-law: She made Scotty happy, produced babies, and followed the family rules. What was it like, Fina sometimes wondered, to not be a perpetual disappointment? Fina was also amazed that Patty would choose to call Elaine “Mom.” She
was
Fina’s mom, and Fina didn’t like to call her that.

“How about Rand?” Fina asked.

“The office,” Carl said. The adults were silent.

The food arrived, and Fina and Matthew exchanged plates. Everyone focused on the boys, illustrating the real reason people have children: to distract from the dysfunctional relationships amongst the older generations. Fina drained her drink, ate half the burger and all of her French fries before pushing back her chair and standing.

“I’ve got to go.” She looked at Carl. “Work.”

Carl nodded, which diffused any objection Elaine might have raised. Fina bid everyone good-bye, but asked Matthew to walk her to her car. He got up and grabbed his beer bottle from the table. They walked, both noticing whispers and stares that punctuated their progress around the pool. Fina felt grateful, not for the first time, that she had siblings. Being Carl’s kid was a heavy load, even as an adult, but it was easier to bear with someone by her side. This was part of the reason that she and her brothers had stuck close to home as adults, even though that meant staying close to their difficult parents. They were like war buddies, comforted by the bond born out of their shared trauma. She couldn’t imagine what life was like for Haley these days without someone to share the burden of being Melanie and Rand’s kid.

“I asked Rand for access to his files,” Fina said after she’d ducked into the car to start it and turn on the AC. She stood sandwiched between the door and the car.

“He can’t do that.”

“I know. So I suggested that one of you guys take a pass and let me know if there’s anyone I should be looking at.”

“That’s a ton of work.”

“Yup, but haven’t the police asked you to do that already?”

“Sure, but we’ve been stalling.”

“Well, it needs to be done.”

Matthew sighed. “Okay. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Fina found a coffee shop and took advantage of their Wi-Fi and air-conditioning for the next few hours. She bought an iced latte and set to work updating her invoices and time sheets. She treated Ludlow and Associates like any other employer and always provided a detailed breakdown of her investigations to the firm. She had a handy portable receipt scanner that enabled her to make a copy of all her receipts, which she then attached to an electronic invoice.

Although most of her cases were provided by the family firm, Fina was still the owner of her own business and was meticulous about record keeping. It made life much easier in terms of testifying in court or filing taxes if she could back up her claims with documentation, and it came naturally to her. Ludlow family life was practically lived in fifteen-minute increments.

When she was first learning the business, it seemed wrong to take the time to fill out an invoice or track her hours when she was investigating grave injuries like severed limbs and severely disabled children. But she’d learned from Frank that the only way to stay on top of the paperwork was to do it regularly, regardless of the status of an investigation.

Satisfied that her files were in good shape, Fina checked her e-mail and found that Emma had been in touch. She’d attached a file of the names from Donald Seymour’s phone and promised to follow with a more in-depth dossier in the next twenty-four hours. Fina clicked open the file and scanned the names. Nothing jumped out at her.

It was dark by the time she packed up and called Rand to see if he was available. At his house, she let herself in and went downstairs to find him in his office. He was wearing jeans and a Red Sox T-shirt and had his bare feet propped up on his desk. There was a manila file folder open on his lap.

“How was it? Were you in your own cell?” Fina asked.

“It was disgusting, but I managed.”

“I’ve asked Matthew to review the case files and let me know if anyone raises a red flag.”

“Fine.”

The rest of the house was silent and mostly dark. “Is Haley here?”

“In her room. I think she was going to go to bed early.”

“I’m just going to pop up and say hi. I won’t wake her if she’s already asleep.”

“Sure,” Rand said, and looked back at the file.

Fina climbed two stories and came to Haley’s bedroom door. She leaned toward it, but didn’t hear a sound. She knocked softly. When there was no response, she carefully grasped the doorknob and started to turn it. It was locked. Fina tried once more to be sure it wasn’t just stuck, but it didn’t budge.

“Why is Haley’s door locked?” she asked Rand when she got back to the lower level.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Privacy.”

“You let her keep her door locked when she’s sleeping? That doesn’t seem safe.”

“You didn’t lock your door when you were her age?”

“Ah, no. Have you forgotten about Doorgate?”

Doorgate was yet another memorable episode in the Ludlow family history. At the age of fourteen, Scotty had decided that he needed more privacy, more to keep his nosy siblings at bay than his parents. He started locking his bedroom door, which Carl took as a personal affront. He paid for everything in that house, he often reminded them, every door, screw, nut, and bolt. He would have access to every corner of it, 24/7. Scotty defied this edict a couple of times, until the day he came home and found his door off its hinges, leaning against his bedroom wall. That was that.

“I’m not Dad,” Rand said.

“Clearly. I just don’t get what she’s doing in there that would require a locked door. Are you sure she’s even in there?”

“Of course I’m sure. Her room is three floors up from the ground. She’s not as crazy as you were, Fina.”

She leaned on the door frame. “Okay. Well, if you see her, tell her I stopped by.”

“I will give her the message when I see her.”

“Thanks.” Fina put her bag over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home in one piece.”

Rand sighed deeply. “Me too.”

Fina nodded and climbed the stairs. Mail was piled on the side table in the front hall. A T-shirt was thrown over the banister, and a heap of socks was strewn on one of the lower steps. Melanie may not have done the manual labor around the place, but she kept their lives on track. It wouldn’t take long for Rand and Haley to go off the rails.

Fina decided to swing by Dante’s apartment in Allston before heading to Crystal. Even though it was ten thirty
P.M.
, it was still early for club-goers. Fina parked and could see light peeking out from the edges of Dante’s venetian blinds. She tread carefully on the porch and opened the front door. As she started down the hallway, Fina noticed that Dante’s door was ajar and an angry voice was coming from his apartment. Reaching into her bag for her gun, she tiptoed to his door and edged forward until she could see into the living room.

Dante was on the floor, his head bleeding. As she watched, a man kicked him in the abs, hard enough that Fina winced in sympathy. There was another guy close to the door with his back to Fina. He was actually the larger of the two, but he stood like a statue, his hands clasped in front of him.

Fina inhaled deeply and took a step into the room. She reached up and cracked her gun against the back of the man’s skull. He cried out and slumped onto the floor.

The other man stared at Fina in shock, and she leveled her gun at him as he made a motion toward his waistband.

“Don’t even think about it. Ask Dante. I’m itching to blow off someone’s balls.”

The smaller guy slowly raised his hands. Dante’s eyes danced around the room as if he couldn’t make sense of the scene before him.

“Step away from him,” she instructed, and nudged the man on the floor with her shoe. He was motionless.

“Is this your bitch, Dante?” the man asked.

Fina snorted. “Ahh, excuse me. Other way around.” Fina walked forward and put herself between Dante and the man. “I’m sure you have legitimate business with Dante, but I need him right now. So.” Fina nodded toward the door. “Off you go.”

The man looked at Dante and hurled a globule of spit onto his face. “This isn’t over.”

“It never is,” Fina commented.

The man sneered at Fina and nudged his friend with the toe of his boot. The big man groaned and moved slightly.

Fina sighed. “Go, before I do something crazy like call the cops.”

He struggled to pull his sidekick to his feet. Then he threw the larger man’s arm over his shoulder, and they limped out into the hallway.

Fina closed the door behind them and locked it. She put her gun in her waistband and went back over to Dante. “Come on. Can you sit up?” she asked. She dragged him over to the couch. She tried to push him up onto the cushions, but he kept sliding back toward the floor. “A little help, maybe?” He groaned, but didn’t move.

He was too heavy, so Fina gave up. Dante grunted and leaned his back against the couch. Fina went into the kitchen and got a roll of paper towels, a bag of frozen chicken wings, a glass, and a bottle of whiskey.

Dante gazed at her when she came back into the room. She sat down next to him on the floor and ripped off a wad of paper towels, which she blotted on his head wound.

“Put this on your eye,” she said, and handed him the bag of chicken wings. His knuckles were cut and bloody. Fina unscrewed the whiskey bottle and poured a couple fingers’ worth into the glass. She helped Dante bring the glass up to his mouth and steadied it while he took a sip. He winced, probably from the whiskey seeping into his split lip, but after a moment, his body visibly relaxed.

“What did you do to piss them off?” Fina asked.

Dante spit out some blood directly onto the floor, and Fina grimaced. It wasn’t the blood, but the fact that he used the living room floor like a gutter. Fina’s standards weren’t high, but she had some.

“Little bit of a power struggle going on,” Dante said, and he shifted on the floor. Fina tore off more paper towels and added them to the bloodied stack on his head.

“Good thing I showed up,” she said, and took a swig from the bottle.

“I was fine,” he grunted.

“You’re such a fucking liar. You were on the floor in the fetal position. I’m not going to tell anyone, Dante, but at least show a little bit of appreciation.”

“Whatever. I could have handled it.”

Fina refilled his glass and helped him drink more of the amber-colored liquid. She felt a momentary twinge of pity for Dante. Whatever obstacles she had to face as a woman in this business, people rarely overestimated her. She always had the advantage of surprise. A young thug like Dante had a lot to live up to.

“Why are you here?” he asked her, and he started to push off the floor with his legs. He grimaced in pain as Fina helped him sit on the couch.

“I had a chat with the police. You told them that Brianna and I had a fight?”

“What would you call it?”

“A discussion, and you know I didn’t have anything to do with her murder. I wouldn’t do that.”

“The last time you were here you broke in and shot my pillow. You’ve threatened to blow off my balls, and you just laid out a guy who’s six feet three and 230 pounds. I think you’re bat shit crazy.”

“Well . . . thank you. But I don’t do things unless I have a good reason, and I didn’t have any reason to kill Brianna. In fact, she was a lot more useful to me alive than dead.” Fina grabbed the bag of chicken wings, rotated it, and placed it back against his face.