Swingin' in the Rain (24 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Jakes

  Jakes went home to wait for Vail’s call.

  He arrived in front of his house and saw a car sitting there. As he pulled up beside the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. It was Rockland. He put both of his hands on the steering wheel and Jakes noticed Rockland wasn’t holding a weapon.

  “Rockland,” he said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Just came to talk, Jakes,” Rockland said. “Thought maybe we’d do it inside, in private.”

  “What, you haven’t been inside, already? Maybe leaving me a little present?”

  Rockland frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jakes said. “Okay, come on in. I might have some beer in the frig.”

  Jakes pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. He wiped the rain from his face. Rockland was waiting for him on the walk, under an umbrella. Jakes gestured him to the door.

  Rockland didn’t move.

  “After you, Detective,” Jakes said, waving him up the walk.

  Inside, Jakes got two mismatched bottles of beer from the fridge.

  “Anchor Steam or Dos Equis?”

  “I’ll take the Anchor Steam.”

  “What’s on your mind, Sam?” Jakes asked, handing it over.

  “You are. You’re not doin’ yourself any favors, Jakes.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re suspended, and you’re makin’ waves.”

  ”Am I?”

  “Come on, Jakes,” Rockland said. “You’re lettin’ that soap opera broad get you all jammed up. Is she worth your career?”

  “Like you give a shit. Is she worth yours?”

  “Whataya mean?”

  “Are we gonna dance around this, Sam?” Jakes asked. “What are you afraid I’ve found out about you?”

  Rockland stared at Jakes, sipped from his bottle.

  “What do you think you know?”

  “I think you’re dirty, Sam,” Jakes said. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

  “Why bother?”

  “It’ll get you kicked out of the department. Right into a cell.”

  “You think?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Rockland laughed. “You have no idea how things work these days, do you, Jakes?” Rockland asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “No,” Rockland said, “I don’t think I will. I think I’m gonna let you find out for yourself.”

  Rockland’s jacket had gotten hooked on his gun butt, so that the weapon and his holster were showing. Or maybe it wasn’t an accident.

  Jakes stared at the other man and waited. If Rockland went for his gun, maybe that would be proof enough that he’d commit murder. If he turned and walked out, then he had people do his killing for him. Like Carver.

  The relationship between Rockland, Randy and Carver was still unclear. But Jakes knew two things. One of them was a victim, and one was a killer.

  What was the other one?

  Rockland put his beer down on a nearby table and walked to the front door.

  “You’ll find out,” he said, “the hard way.”

  “More word games, Sam,” Jakes said. “That doesn’t help.”

  Rockland gave him a little wave and walked out.

  Jakes went to the front door. He watched Rockland get into his car and drive away. He didn’t see anyone else out there watching the house. What was the point of the visit? A warning? Let him know he was in danger of learning the way things ran? Was Rockland telling him he wasn’t the only dirty cop involved? Maybe Rockland didn’t want to have a fellow cop killed? Was he giving Jakes a chance to walk?

  He went to check his messages and realized he never turned his phone back on. When he did, he saw messages from Vail and Alex. He called Vail back.

  “Wanna have a drink?” Vail asked.

“That was fast.”

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “Where?”

  “There’s a bar across from the courthouse.”

  “Are you talking about that dive, ‘The Doom Room’?”

  “Hey, I’m a cheap date,” the private eye said. “Happy Hour starts early there.”

  “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

  They broke the connection. Jakes went to the back of the house to check the windows. Nobody lurking, ready to attack. He stopped in his bedroom, took a .38 in an ankle holster from his closet and strapped it to his right leg. Then he went out the front door, got in his car and drove away.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

      It wasn’t easy being down here so close to the pavement in the low rider, I felt very vulnerable, like any semi could roll right over and flatten me. At least I had wheels and working windshield wipers. This was Jesse’s baby, all right. The interior was pristine. Black leather seats, real wood dash and gear shift. Dice on the rearview mirror and chrome polished like a mirror. I was definitely getting looks from other drivers, but I was concentrating so hard on the wet and slippery road, it didn’t matter. I almost jumped out of my skin when my cell rang. I glanced at the caller I.D. It was Jakes. Thank you, God!

  “I couldn’t reach you. Did you get my message?”

  “Yeah. Why are you heading home? You’re supposed to be at George’s.”

  “My mom came back early. She called and asked where I was and I told her. She also said that all my drawers and cabinets had been opened and dumped out. Someone was looking for something. Probably the DVD’s, don’t you think?”

  “You’re probably right. If someone had been there, it must have been before Harry got there, or he would have seen them. That doesn’t tell me why you’re not at George’s.”

  “Because after I hung up with my mother I realized she had called me from the house phone.”

  “Aw, geez. Alright. Head on home. It’s good that Harry’s out front.”

  “He’s not. My Mom said my car was parked out front but Harry wasn’t in it.”

  “He was probably out looking around the neighborhood.”

  “It’s pouring in Hollywood. If it’s raining this hard in Venice, Harry should be anywhere but outside.”

  “Where are you, Alex?”

  “I’m on the ten.” I screamed as a big truck drove past me and a blast of water sprayed my car. “Sorry about that. It’s a nightmare out here. You’re not gonna believe what I’m driving.”

  “What do you mean what you’re driving? You have Harry’s car.”

  “The wipers gave out. I’ll fill you in later. Where are you?”

  “I’m heading to a meeting. I’ve got a lead on the Lincoln. Listen. Call your mom and tell her to go to Tonja’s. Meet her there and don’t leave.  Harry’s probably back in the car by now. You’ll be safe with him out front. I’ll call you when I know something.”

  “Okay. Be careful driving. Love you.”

  “You, too.”

  I decided to speed dial Tonja. She picked up after the first ring.

  “Hi, Alex.”

  “Hi there. Just checking in. Are you guys okay?”

     “Oh, yeah. Safe and sound at home.” There was a brief pause.

  “Can I speak with Sarah for a sec?”

     “Uh, she’s busy playing. But I’ll have her call you back, okay?”  I was about to tell her that my mother was next door, but she had hung up.

  I called my mom next. “He’s still not there, Alex. What should I do?”

  “Mom, get your stuff and go next door. I just spoke to Tonja and she and Sarah are home, now. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “Alex, I can’t believe you’ve gotten into all this foolishness again.”

  “I know, Mom. Me neither. We’ll talk about it later, okay? Bye.” I hung up. That’s all I needed. On top of Carver and Rockland on my ass and crazy drivers on the road, I needed a lecture from my mother. Even if she was right, I had bigger fish to fry at the moment. 

  “Whoaaa!” I shouted. I was in the middle of the ten and doing my best to dodge puddles. Suddenly a car swerved into my lane and almost clipped my front bumper. I quickly drove into the lane on my left, narrowly missing another car that was going very slowly. I slammed on my brakes and almost hit the car in front of me. Something slid out from under the front seat and hit my foot. I looked down and saw a gun.

  “Oh my God!” I bent down and picked it up, trying my best to keep my eyes on the road, then gingerly placed it on the seat next to me, making sure it wasn’t pointed in my direction. My cell rang and I could see from the caller I.D. it was my mother, again.

  “Mom! I get it! You’re right! I thought I was doing something for Sarah and I realize now--”

  “Alex. There’s no one home at Tonja’s.”

  “What are you saying? She just called me five minutes ago and said she was home. Mom, are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m positive. No one answered the door, so I looked through the windows and there’s nobody home.”

  “I’ll call her.” I disconnected with my mom and called Tonja. It went to voicemail. “Hi Tonja. Where are you guys? Call me back.”

  I could feel it. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I knew.

  Many things in life depend on how you expect them to make sense. Little things you take for granted.

  Harry was probably out canvassing the neighborhood.

  Tonja was possibly just out enjoying dinner with my daughter.

  Or something was horribly wrong.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Jakes

  Jakes walked into ‘The Doom Room’. It was pretty empty except for a couple of guys and one woman at the bar who looked like they were regulars, i.e. alcoholics. Vail was at the end of the bar nursing something dark and munching on something fried.

  “Whatta ya have?” The bartender asked Jakes as he moved in front of them.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Suit your self,” he said as he went to tend to his regulars.

  “So, what have you got for me?”

  Vail looked at him and then at his nearly empty glass. “Could we get another of whatever he’s having?” Jakes said to the bartender who shot him a dirty look, picked up a bottle of whiskey and began pouring it into a glass.

  Jakes shrugged it off, reached into his pocket and put some cash on the bar. Vail looked at the money and then presented a slip of paper with an address on it.

  “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Vail asked, lifting his glass and finishing off the last bit of his drink. “Carver’s a bad boy.”

  “Naw, I’ve got it, Dan,” Jakes said, “but thanks for the offer.”

  “Whatever.”

  “What’s that you’re eating, anyway?” Jakes asked looking at the puffy fried things Vail kept popping in his mouth.

  “Pork rinds.” Vail replied. “My doctor says these are good for me.”

  “Seriously?”

  Vail shrugged. “That’s what he says. Zero carbs, seventeen grams of protein and only nine grams of fat. I figure the whiskey and rinds kind of cancel each other out. Keep the playin’ field even, right?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Jakes got in his car and unfolded the piece of paper Vail had given him. The address was about a fifteen minute  drive from where he was now, in a neighborhood notorious for crime, especially gang activity.  The name of the registered owner was Frederick Holder.

  Jakes started the car and pulled away from the curb in a driving rain.

  There were large homes in among the smaller ones. They had all seen better days, had fallen into different degrees of disrepair.  The house he found at the address was putting up at least a token defense against the blight that had overtaken most of the other homes. The yard was cleaner than most, the house two stories of faded dignity, patched and bandaged with some care.

  Jakes ran through the downpour, mounted the front porch and rang the bell. The door was opened by a young man in his mid-twenties, munching on a piece of buttered toast.

  “Yeah?”

  “Fred Holder.”

  “Fred-er-rick,” the boy corrected.

  “Well, Fred-er-rick,” Jakes said, “I’m looking for a friend of yours.”

  “Oh? Who’s that. I got lots of friends.”

  “His name is Carver,” Jakes said. “Vincent Carver.”

  The boy stopped chewing.

  “I-I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “That’s funny,” Jakes said. “The last time he was seen, he was driving your Lincoln.”

  “My car? Naw. That can’t be.”

  “Where is your car, then?”

  The boy licked his lips nervously. He was about twenty-five, hadn’t bathed in some time if the funky smell rising up from his pits was any indication. And now there was a new smell. Fear.

  “What’re you . . . a cop?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Lemme see your badge.”

  “I’m here unofficially.”

  The boy laughed without humor, tossed his unfinished toast over Jakes’ shoulder into the grass.

  “The way you’re trying to take care of this house, that’s a little out of character for you.”

  “Wait for it,” the boy said.

  They waited, and a few seconds later a small beagle came trotting over to consume the toast.

  “Ah,” Jakes said. “You’re a nice guy. I get it.”