The Same Mistake Twice (9 page)

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Tillotson kicked himself mentally. He had fallen for it again.

“And no, she came up with the name, but she didn’t know him either.”

“She says.”

“I tend to believe her. It has led to good results for my investigations.”

He made a face. Could he get any more pompous than that?

“Let’s stop before the lawyers get involved,” she said. “They won’t be happy about this conversation. If I find anything about James Zakrewsky, I’ll let you know. If you hear nothing, that means I didn’t.”

“Works for me.”

Chapter Fifteen

Diana turned into her street and saw two young men sitting on her front steps. There was no mistaking them. She knew their fathers, and now she knew them. As she parked at the curbed and got out of the car, they stood. Dexter Grogan crossed his arms to look more intimidating. He did it well. Don Rennert glanced at his friend and imitated him. Diana kept coming. A hooker who couldn’t confront menace needed to get a mainstream job.

“Isn’t this sweet,” she said. “A high school reunion.”

“Wrong class,” said Dexter. “And you’re too old for us.”

She started to reply that some young men didn’t think so, but she stopped herself.

“You’ve been messing in our personal business. Figured we’d give you the chance to ask us face to face.”

It raised an interesting question—who had told them about her? Gary Rennert, John Grogan, or Tracy Grogan? When Diana thought about it, Tracy seemed unlikely. Dexter didn’t look angry enough to know that a nosy amateur detective had been in his home.

“You never know who might see you at the mall,” said Don.

Oh, she thought.

Someone had seen her with Paul Riemenschneider and tattled. Thanks to her, Dexter and Don had come back into Paul’s life to give him some more bullying.

Or maybe he had taken the prudent course and told them himself.

“How about you?” she said to Don Rennert. “You down with this? Or does he do the talking for both of you? And the thinking?”

He declined to help her.

“Okay, you just stand there and do the manly silence thing.”

“What do you want to know?” said Dexter.

“What happened to James Zakrewsky?”

“How the hell would we know?”

The problem was, she had no more power over them than over Todd the movie manager.

“His girlfriend says you do.”

“Patty Horvath is a lying bitch,” said Don.

With a look Dexter told Don to shut up.

“Anything else?” said Dexter.

“Not at the moment.”

“Now is the time. Because if we hear about you butting in again, we won’t be as understanding.”

“I’ll bet you’re a tough guy. With people who can’t give you a fight, anyway.”

Dexter took a half step toward her before he caught himself.

“We don’t have to do a thing. You know who we work for?”

She nodded toward Don. “You work for your friend’s daddy. What exactly do you do?”

“Never mind. Just bear it in mind—we work for him, and he doesn’t like people who interfere with us when we do it.”

“He also doesn’t keep people around when they’re too much trouble.”

For a moment Dexter looked uncertain.

“Yeah,” she said. “I know him.”

It was probably a mistake to have said that much, but she was tired of his smug face.

“Time for you to go. Since you’re too young for me.”

To her surprise they obeyed. One of them passed her on each side. Both of them gave her a rough shoulder. For once Don Rennert seemed to have thought of the move himself. She watched them cross the street and climb into a silver BMW. Dexter got behind the wheel. Without looking in any direction, he lurched away from the curb.

When the sound of their engine faded, another took over. This one idled and then shut off.

“Who were those two?” said Tillotson.

He slammed his car door behind him.

“The next generation of Rennerts and Grogans,” she said. “I thought I scared them off, but I guess it was you.”

“Interesting.”

“Not to me.”

“I’ve heard of young Mr. Grogan. Some of the local departments tell me he’s been on their radar screen for years. There are several young women who refused to testify against him.”

“Charming.”

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you how much I enjoyed getting jerked around by Gary Rennert.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think his son has the chops to take over the family business.”

“I wonder what that is,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“What exactly does Gary Rennert do? Everybody says don’t mess with him. Nobody knows exactly why.”

“He puts deals together. That’s basically it. He gets a piece of everything, and it doesn’t happen if he says no.”

“How does he make that happen?”

“My guess is by knowing stuff. Like, every time I entertained somebody for him, he knew about it, and he had that in the bank. Some of them were local government types, not that I’m saying who.”

She felt like slapping her own face, because she had just “opened the door,” as they said on
Law and Order
.

“You have my list?”

“Not yet.”

“I’d say you’ve had enough time.”

“I thought you understood my business a little better than that.”

“So?”

“Ten years. Two hundred men. At least that many. I can’t remember them all.”

Lying to him still felt terrible.

“You know,” he said, “hooking is illegal. Anyone ever tell you that? Maybe I should stop looking the other way.”

She didn’t flinch. When trying to stare her down didn’t work, he turned and walked back to his Lumina.

Chapter Sixteen

“Yes, Detective,” said Chief Jadlowsky.

“I’m cell phone driving,” said Tillotson. “And I’m not wearing my seatbelt.”

“I’ll tell you what I tell everybody on the most-wanted list.”

“Turn myself in? Maybe I should.”

“So why the call?”

“Hell, I have no idea. No, I’m wrong. I know exactly why.”

Jadlowsky waited.

“I’m pissed at her.”

“Diana Andrews.”

“Right. She’s had time to make that list of clients, and she hasn’t.”

“And it’s making you do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

“I think maybe I’ve been cutting her too much slack all along.”

“If you have, so have I,” said Jadlowsky. “Should I lean on her?”

Tillotson stopped with his mouth hanging open. He wanted to say anything but “Yes,” but if he didn’t want Jadlowsky’s help, why had he bothered the Chief in the first place? He knew what he had to do.

“No,” he said. “I think it’s time for me to be a cop.”

Chapter Seventeen

As she watched Tillotson drive away, Diana decided she was tired of being leaned on. She got back in her car to go do some of the leaning.

At the multiplex the lobby was almost empty. All eight screens must have been busy. Diana leaned over to speak to the same ticket clerk.

“Don’t tell Todd I’m here. You don’t want to get between us.”

The clerk grinned. The idea of her boss in trouble seemed to please her. An usher standing nearby gaped but did nothing.

Diana pushed through the door marked “Office.”

“Todd, you lied. Don’t lie to me again.”

His mouth flapped several times.

“Patty Horvath. You know her. She worked here. Where did she live?”

“Nowhere.”

“I said, don’t lie to me.”

“And I said, nowhere. Or everywhere. She lived on people’s couches or in her car. Or she squatted here and there. Anything but live with me. I offered.”

The Salmon house, Diana thought.

Tillotson had mentioned squatters. When James and Patty lacked money for the Regina, it was a good bet that they ended up where no one charged them rent.

Diana returned to her car and started driving. Finally she had a destination.

But as she drove, her enthusiasm waned. What did she expect to find after ten years?

The Salmon house had its own rutted dirt road off Route 206, and at least ten acres of wooded land. For the first time she looked at the place with adult eyes. Who owned the property, and why hadn’t they sold out to developers? Why hadn’t the place been declared a nuisance and condemned? It made her wonder whether Gary Rennert was involved with the property somehow. He was turning up everywhere lately.

She bounced a couple of hundred feet down the private road and realized that trees and bushes draped with creepers hid her from eyes along the highway. Nature was reclaiming the clearing around the house, but she could still wedge the car into the brush and hope to get it out again. She climbed out and fought the urge to sneeze that dense woodland odors always provoked in her. She stood for a moment looking at the house. Shutters hung askew, and the paint had gone beyond dingy. The roof peaks sagged.

Nothing about the building looked like a clue. She turned her attention to the grounds.

Diana knew she didn’t have to search the entire property. She could ignore the area inside the yellow crime scene tape that the cops had left. They had found what was there to be found. She also decided to skip the second clearing behind the house, where the underage drinking parties happened, and the path that led to it. No one would be stupid enough to bury a body there.

But that still left a lot of territory, and the early-summer light was starting to fade. The foliage and underbrush were dense enough to reduce the traffic noise from the highway almost to nothing. She worked quickly, making several passes over the rear of the property near the brook, but she soon felt discouraged. Did she really expect to recognize a grave after ten years of weather had blended it into the background?

No, but it was another matter to smell fresh dirt and to see where someone had disturbed the cover of decaying vegetation just hours earlier. Who had reopened the grave, and why had that someone stopped digging?

Because of an interruption. Like her.

She began to run back to her car. When it came into view, she saw that a new BMW had parked blocking her escape route. Two men, a squat, powerfully built black man and a middle-aged surfer, leaned against the side of the car. They started toward her.

“Bad idea,” she said. “People know I’m here.”

“I doubt it,” said the surfer. He wasn’t aging well.

Diana thought she knew him, and after a moment she had it. Years earlier he had been a one-time client. She couldn’t come up with his name, but he worked as a hospital orderly. He obviously recognized her, but she could also see that it wouldn’t earn her any slack from him.

Each man took one of her elbows.

“Somebody wants to see you,” said her former client.

Thanks to the hospital connection, Diana knew who. It made sense. The former client must pick up some extra income somewhere if he could afford luxuries like her.

Rebecca Grogan climbed out of the BMW’s passenger seat. The lack man turned his head toward her. Diana struggled and almost broke free.

“For God’s sake,” said Rebecca, “can’t two of you hold her?”

They tightened their grip. They seemed to enjoy hurting her.

“We have to take her somewhere,” Rebecca said. “Too much coming and going here.”

Diana decided that she didn’t want to go anywhere with them.

“Good plan,” she said. “I’ll be sure to leave hairs and stuff in your car for the cops to find.”

“Shut up,” said the ex-client.

Rebecca didn’t waste words. She studied Diana, until a nasty smile appeared on her face.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s why we’ll use someplace the cops won’t look for you.”

Oh, Diana thought.

Rebecca meant the place where the cops had just finished searching for bodies. The hiding place wouldn’t work unless Diana became another body. She had a sudden mental picture of herself as an anonymous skeleton ten years from now.

An engine roared, and a car lurched and bounced into view. The Nissan Maxima looked familiar. The car blocked the BMW as the BMW had blocked Diana’s Taurus. Tracy Grogan climbed out of the driver’s seat. Rebecca strode toward her.

“Get back in the car and go.”

“I’m through taking orders from you people.”

Tracy walked straight toward her mother-in-law.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to know,” said Rebecca.

“Oh no, you don’t. Not this time. This feels exactly like ten years ago. I was already around back then, remember? I do. I remember phones ringing late at night, conversations stopping when I come into the room. I also remember these two…pals of yours. Something bad happened then, and it’s not going to happen again.”

“And what do you plan to do about it?”

Tracy turned to Diana.

“Who are you really?”

“I really am a personal trainer. Just not full time.”

“Believe it or not, I figured that out.”

“I’m an escort. A prostitute, if you insist.”

“Dexter is in such deep trouble.”

“More than you know,” said Diana.

“Is my husband, what do you call it, a client?”

“No, it’s worse than that. It goes back to that other time you mentioned. With the phone calls and secrets. I think they killed somebody.”

“As I was saying,” said Rebecca to Tracy, “this is way over your head. Why don’t you just run along?”

“So you can kill her too? No.”

“Why do you care about a whore?”

“I don’t. But you’re not going to ruin the rest of my life.”

“Last chance.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me too?”

Tracy’s words sounded brave, but her chin quivered. She clenched her teeth to stop the telltale movement. “We’re going to go to Gary. He’ll want to know about this. And he’ll know what to do.”

Diana started to object. But then she realized that any way out of this situation was better than staying here.

Tracy gestured toward her.

“Come on.”

Diana didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled free of the two men and walked away from them. She took Tracy’s arm to hustle her toward the Maxima. Tracy shook herself loose.