Perilous (8 page)

Kenny faced Viktor and banged his fist against the chain link. “I hope you had a big dinner. You’ll be getting empty trays until you pay us.” He laughed. The three men walked back toward the building.

Viktor shook his head in frustration. “Shit.” Paying would show weakness, and weakness inside was as good as death. Viktor had to come up with something. He had forty-eight hours.

He leaned back against the fence and interlocked his fingers behind his head. A protruding piece of the chain link scratched his finger. Viktor turned to look. A two-inch piece of the metal had rusted away from its mounting point. Viktor scanned the guard tower. No one was watching. He pulled at the piece, and it moved. Viktor looked around again. One of the guards was retaking his position. Viktor put his back to the fence and clasped his hands behind his head as they had been just a few seconds prior. Behind his head, he worked at the metal.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. The fingerprint analysis sent down from Atlanta confirmed Charles Riaola’s prints around and behind the rental car’s instrument cluster. He’d undoubtedly tampered with the odometer. A search warrant was issued on his property. Hank and I spent a few hours going over everything there but found nothing incriminating. We found no suitcase, blood, or further evidence. We wouldn’t need much, either way. His confession and the fingerprints, combined with the pending blood and DNA samples, would seal his fate by the time his trial date arrived.

I was on my way back to the condo a couple minutes before seven o’clock. Hank shot out to his house to change, planning to meet Callie and me at our place within the hour. I pulled my station wagon through the gated entry to my parking spot at the back. While I’d wanted to replace my Corvette with another one, exactly the same, my reality said that was no longer an option. After researching for a week or two, I found the perfect all-around family car: a white five-hundred-fifty-six-horsepower Cadillac CTS-V wagon. They’d killed production on the car after the 2013 model year, but luckily the Chevy dealer I had purchased my Corvette from had a gently used one on the lot. With a little over a thousand miles on it, it was still new in my book. I just picked it up the prior week.

I killed the motor and walked toward the elevator. I looked over to see Callie’s new Jeep parked in one of the three guest spots. We would have to bite the bullet and lease another parking spot pretty soon before the neighbors started to complain. I hit the button to go up. The elevator doors slid open, I stepped in, and the elevator kicked me out on the fifth floor.

Toward the end of the hall, I twisted the knob of our front door and knelt—
no escaping cat.
I pushed the door open and walked in. Across the condo, Callie was sitting on the patio out back. I kicked off my shoes, walked toward her, and slid the door open. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a tight-fitting light-blue T-shirt. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Butch sat on her lap, staring off the balcony. He turned his head and gave me a quick glance. I rubbed his head and scratched his ears.

“He loves it out here. He just watches everything,” Callie said.

“I was always afraid he’d jump.”

“You’d never jump from me.” Callie patted his head. “Would you, Butchy baby?”

He meowed and dug his head into her hand. She definitely had a way with him. Callie let Butch past me into the house. She stood and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hey, hon. How was work?” she asked.

“Ah, okay I guess. I got everything wrapped up that I needed to, so that’s good.”

“That is good. So you’re saying that you won’t be worrying about a case while we’re gone?”

“Nope. No cases to worry about.”

“I missed you today.” She squeezed me hard and kissed me.

I held her by the small of her back. “Careful, you’ll crush my son.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s tough.”

I smiled. We’d been going back and forth on boy or girl for a while. We decided that we would wait and be surprised.

“I missed you too,” I said. “How’s the packing situation going?”

“Um, I’m almost done. I started a bag for you as well, but there are a few things in the dryer yet. Just think, tomorrow at this time, we’ll be in Wisconsin.”

“Yup. Freezing our asses off,” I said.

Callie let her arms drop and slid past me into the condo.

She talked over her shoulder. “Oh, come on. You spent your whole life there. You should be used to it.”

“Cold is cold.” I followed her in. “Did you pack warm clothes?”

She walked to the kitchen and pulled out two beers. “I checked the weather. It’s not supposed to be that bad. But, yes, I packed warm clothes.”

“I just know what February is like up there. It sucks. Every single day is gray and cold. I’m sure we’ll get snowed on. It’s like being in an old, cold, black-and-white TV.”

She popped the top on one of the beer bottles and then looked around. “Where’s Hank?”

“Not here yet. He had to run home and change.”

“Oh, guess he won’t need a beer, then.” She slid the beer back into the refrigerator and hip bumped the door shut. She handed me the open beer. “Well, I’m looking forward to going up there in the cold. I haven’t seen snow since I was a little kid.”

“Really?”

“Really. My parents took me to see the snow in the mountains once or twice when I was little. That was it. They don’t ski or anything, so there wasn’t too much of a reason to see it again. I’ve been in Florida since I was twenty. No snow here.”

She took a seat at one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I walked to her and wrapped my arms around her. She rested her head against my bicep.

“Are you freaked out to meet my family?” I asked.

She shook her head and looked up at me. “Not about meeting your dad and stepmom.”

“Good. You don’t need to be. They are surprisingly normal. What about Melissa?” I asked.

She shrugged. “A little, I guess. I mean, I know she is close with Samantha, which kind of makes me an enemy doesn’t it?”

“No. You’ll never be an enemy of anyone in my family.”

“Has she called you lately?”

“Who? Mel?” I asked.

“Samantha.”

“Nah. I think she got the point after we talked last. It was starting to get ridiculous.”

Callie smiled. “That was mean, by the way.”

“That wasn’t mean. That was honesty. I told her I’m having a child with someone I’m in love with, and while I cared about her as a friend and couldn’t apologize enough about what happened with Cross, she needed to leave me the hell alone.”

“It’s the
leave me the hell alone
part that is kind of mean.”

I shrugged. “Sorry.”

Callie smiled. “I forgive you. Now go get rid of that thing”—she tapped my shoulder-holstered gun—“and change. We need to get the food going.”

“Yes, ma’am. Did you want to assist?”

She laughed and raised her eyebrows. “No time. Remember, you wanted your partner to come over.” She pushed me away.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I headed back to the bedroom to change.

Hank arrived within twenty minutes. We had a few beers, grilled steaks on the balcony, and did our best not to talk about work. However, a few times, he did bring up getting Riaola to crack under his superior interrogation skills. I went with it and let him have his delusional victory. He was gone with Butch within a couple hours.

Callie and I finished our packing and reserved the rest of the evening for watching a movie, curled up on the couch. She fell asleep in my arms, and I carried her off to bed.

We were at the airport by eight for our departure at nine forty-five. Our flight was delayed, which led to a spirited jog to catch our connecting flight out of Atlanta. We touched down in Milwaukee a couple minutes before one o’clock. I fired off a text message to my sister that we were on the ground. She sent a message back that she was there and she and Tommy would be waiting for us right outside security.

The cold hit us as soon as we stepped from the airplane. The air stung my nose as I inhaled. I remembered that well. The jetway might as well have been a freezer. I looked at Callie. She shivered and gripped her elbows.

“Cold yet?” I asked.

She smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

The local weather forecast Callie had looked up was a bit lacking. It said nothing of the windchill. While the temperature was supposed to be eight degrees, the pilot had told us over the plane’s intercom about a strong northern wind. The windchill, he said, was at seventeen below zero.

We walked through the airport and approached security.

I spotted Melissa and Tommy up the corridor. I pointed at them, “That’s them.”

“She’s going to be nice, right?” Callie asked.

I laughed. “Yeah, Cal. She’ll be nice.”

We walked up to them. Melissa was holding Tommy’s hand.

“Hey, guys,” Melissa said.

I pointed at her hair and gave her a hug. “Haircut?”

Her brown highlighted hair was cut at her chin bone—almost six inches shorter than the family photo I’d received earlier in the week. She wore a puffy white coat with a fur-lined hood and a pair of blue jeans.

“I’m trying something new. I see you didn’t grow any hair to cover that thing yet.” She tapped at the scar along the side of my head. “I see you have a couple new ones as well.”

“They’re barely even noticeable,” I said. “I kind of think they add to my character.”

Melissa nodded. “Mmm hmm. What character is that? Frankenstein?”

“Maybe,” I said.

Melissa smiled at Callie. “Carl isn’t so good with introductions. Callie, I presume?”

“Yes, and I love your boots,” Callie said.

I looked down. My sister wore some gray leather boots, complete with numerous buckles.

“Aw, thanks,” Melissa said.

“I’d watch those boots, Mel. She has a thing for footwear,” I said.

They smiled at each other and hugged. I guessed it was about as good as their introduction could go.

I knelt. Tommy took a step toward me and stopped. His hand came from the pocket of his blue winter jacket. His little hand stretched toward me, waiting for a handshake. I smiled, shook it, and gave him a hug.

“Hey, buddy.” I rubbed his brown, finger-length hair.

“Hi, Uncle Carl.”

“Tommy, I want you to meet someone.” I pointed at Callie. “This is Callie.”

He held out his hand for another handshake.

Melissa looked at Callie and smiled. “It’s something new he’s been doing. They taught him at school.”

Callie got low and shook his hand. “Well, aren’t you handsome.” She smiled. “What was your name again? Timmy? Or was it Thompson? Or maybe Terry?”

He giggled. “It’s Tommy.”

“Tommy. Yeah, that’s it. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

He smiled and went back to Melissa.

I nodded toward a coffee stand up ahead. “I want to grab a coffee over here quick before we get our bags. You guys want one?”

“I wish,” Callie said. “But I had my two cups today. Supposed to watch the caffeine intake for the baby, remember?”

I nodded. “Mel, coffee?”

“Sure. Black.”

“Got it. I remember.”

We headed over, and I stood in line while the girls talked off to the side. I looked back and watched them. Their conversation, and their smiles, didn’t appear forced, which was a relief. I had worried a little about how my sister would act toward her, knowing how close Melissa was with my ex-wife. However, the more I thought about it, I realized I could have been worried for nothing. My sister had always given people a fair shake. I grabbed the coffees, added a little creamer to mine from the stand nearby, and walked back over. I handed Melissa her cup, and we walked down to the baggage terminal.

With our suitcases in the back of my sister’s Subaru SUV, we headed from the airport out to her house. A few years back, my sister and brother-in-law had bought an old Victorian farmhouse outside of Cedarburg—the town that she and I had grown up in. It needed some updating, but it was huge and sat on a large plot of land. The closest neighbor was over a mile away. The drive from the airport took us the better part of an hour. When we pulled in to Melissa’s, snow was piled on the leafless branches of trees lining the driveway. The house came into view. I’d been there before, but I imagined it to be a sight to Callie. The home was yellow and white—three stories. A turret sat to the right of the front entrance and extended up to the highest roof line. A white, covered porch wrapped the entire house.

“It’s so pretty,” Callie said from the backseat.

“Thanks. It’s been a lot of work, though. We spent the last three years updating and remodeling room by room. The only rooms we haven’t gotten to are the bedroom and bathroom that you guys will be using. There are some holes in the walls still, a couple of spots where there is no carpet.” She went quiet, looking into the rearview mirror at Callie.

I smiled.

“Oh, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” Callie said.

“There is a bed up there, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, the previous owners, who died, left one behind.” Melissa parked the car in front of the garage.

“Good. At least we’ll have something to sleep on. Did you guys ever take care of the mice problem upstairs?” I asked.

“Mice. Yuck,” Tommy said.

“Well, we’ve been leaving traps up there, but we can’t seem to make a dent in the population.”

I laughed—I couldn’t contain it. I looked back at Callie from the front seat and smiled.

“You guys are such jerks,” Callie said.

Melissa laughed and shut the car off. “Figured I’d have some fun with you. Don’t worry, the entire place is complete, and we most certainly don’t have a rodent problem.”

We got out. Melissa went to the back on the driver’s side to get Tommy. Callie swatted my arm and gave me a quick kiss on the passenger side. We walked to the back to grab our luggage and then headed for the house.

“What time does Jeff get home?” I asked.

“He should be home around six.” Melissa walked up the stairs to the front door and unlocked it. Tommy ran into the house and disappeared. I lifted my and Callie’s suitcases and carried them inside.