Officer Harding was energetic this time around, asking much more detailed questions. I had to wonder, wasn’t finding a dead body in the laundry room worth this kind of enthusiasm an hour earlier?
Because Laura had the presence of mind to tape her fateful call with Carl, Officer Williams sagely pointed out, this gave us the evidence she seemed to feel was sorely lacking from her last visit. It seems to me Juan with a bullet through his brain made for decent evidence, but then again, I didn’t own the badge and a gun.
It was 6 p.m. by the time the police—this time six of them—left. I was in a state. Panic long gone, I was pacing the floor, wearing out the carpet in the family room. Jet was busy picking up Bruce and Buddy’s room. I had told him to leave it, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Matt and I were debating which one of us should be saddled with the task of calling Frieda.
Finally, Matt gave in. I figured she would react better to it coming from him than me. His matter-of-fact style was somewhat soothing. And besides, I didn’t want to break the news Frieda’s only child and mother to her grandsons had been kidnapped and a man had been murdered in her home.
While Matt busied himself, I finally found something inane to occupy my time. Working the front room, I used masking tape to pick up shards of glass from the carpet. The TV and DVD player were still sitting in the entertainment center. My brain was racking where Laura would put information about Carl. Certainly not here. It would have been found. How much information? What did the information look like? What kind of files?
The police had asked these questions too. They had also answered a biggie. Who was the Pablo Villanova Laura had mentioned on the answering machine tape. It turns out, he is a big time drug lord who is on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Officer Harding squeezed my hand, as if to protect me from the awful truth as he told me this part.
But, more important than knowing about the location of Carl’s stuff, I really wanted to know where Laura was. I wanted to make sure she was safe—or as safe as she could be under the circumstances. Also, I wanted to tell her how proud I was to hear her stand up to Carl. What a hell she must have been living.
“This is so frustrating.” I said, looking at my watch. 7:13. We had done nothing but brainstorm for more than an hour. Jet had left and returned with pizza, while I picked up my apartment. Matt had tackled the kitchen, mostly sweeping broken plates and glasses into plastic bags.
Here’s what was nagging me. I didn’t think Carl would have taken Laura to anywhere she could be found. Simply because he would have to figure leaving Juan behind would mean I would call the police. He wanted me to find the body. He wanted me to know he took Laura. He was playing a game. But, why? Did he think I had what Laura was hiding?
Where would they take her? I heard Officer Williams tell one of the cops before she left to head out to the Sweet Shop, Crazy Ed’s, the Hacienda and the homes of Ed, Roy and Carl. But, it seemed too obvious. Carl was going to be somewhere Juan and the other goons had to know about when whomever answered the phone said “Bring her to me.” It had to be private. What I needed was someone who thought like Carl and his pals. I needed someone who could help put the pieces together.
It was twenty minutes later when I shoed Matt and Jet out the door. I needed to be alone. I wanted to pace the floor in private. After several inquiries from both of them, I insisted I was ok. Matt asked me to stay with him just in case. Jet offered to stay with me. I swear it was only to one-up Matt, but I refused him too. “No, I will be fine.” I told both of them.
Now, as planned, I was wearing another hole into Laura’s carpet. I stared across the room. Think, I commanded. What would I do if I were back home? When I needed something back home, there were always resources. People. People who knew people.
Maybe, I figured it was worth a friendly chat. Picking up my phone I called directory assistance for the Sweet Shop. “Um, hi. I am looking for Carl. Is he in?” I asked the woman who answered.
“No, I don’t expect him tonight.”
Of course not. I silently grumbled. “Well, I owe him money and I need to pay him. Do you know where I can reach him?”
She didn’t. And, she wasn’t willing to help me out. I swore as I hung up. It would have been too easy.
I tried once more, doing my best to disguise my voice, and asked for Roy
For nothing more useful to do, I called Officer Williams. “We are working on it. Don’t you worry. I am confident we will find her.” She said. I wasn’t as confident.
It was ten minutes later when I got a gift from Above. Glancing down, I saw Laura’s cell phone peeking out from the side of the entertainment center. Somehow the goons had overlooked it when they took her. I examined it, the ringer was off, and yes, there were all of the missed calls from earlier. Fiddling with her phone, I thought, someone Laura knows must know where to look.
There weren’t many entries in Laura’s cell phone, I thought grimly as I scrolled through. So far, I knew them all, Charlie, Evan, Frieda, Joe her handyman, Julie, the waitress at the Sweet Shop,… Holy cow! I thought glancing at Julie’s name.
Julie didn’t answer her phone. I hoped it meant she was working. Taking a deep breath, I called the Sweet Shop for a third time. I crossed my fingers waiting for someone to answer. “She’s busy working.” Came the response, this time from a man who did not offer to take a message.
At least she was there. Glancing across the street, I toyed with inviting Matt to come with me. But, this was only a fact-finding trip. And, I wasn’t sure how successful it would be. Besides, I reasoned, the cops had already been there. Who knows if I would even speak to her. No, I finally decided. Getting a bit of inside information to pass along to the police was an easy one I could take on my own.
When I arrived at 9:27, the Sweet Shop was more crowded than I expected for a Tuesday night. Apparently, drunk men watching mostly naked women and back room underworld drug deals didn’t really care what day of the week it was.
As I walked in, I felt frightfully out of place. First, I was the wrong gender for this clientele. Second, I was way over-dressed in my capris, t-shirt and flip flops.
Stale beer and smoke engulfed me as I entered Looking around, the music was deafening. The audience didn’t care. They were watching the shows on the stage or on their laps. Making my way towards the bar, I asked the man behind the counter, “Is Julie here?”
He nodded, pointing towards the woman coming toward me. “She’s the one you are looking for,” And then added with a slick smile the bartender said, “I am the one you want.”
“Aren’t you cute!” I gushed as I stood up and walked over to Julie.
Julie was older than Laura. Her over-exposed tan skin had been damaged, aging her beyond recognition. A good portion of her was enhanced. She was my height and about ten pounds heavier. She looked like the type who didn’t take grief from Roy
She stood staring at me, beer tray in hand, as I blocked her path. “I am hoping you can help me.” I said by way of awkward introduction.
Julie smiled, “I gotta deliver these, Sugar, I will be right back.” Without ceremony, I let her go hoping she would return.
True to her word, not three minutes later, she arrived back at the table where I parked. I beckoned her close. Between the music and the crowd cheering for the latest dancer, Roxy, I wanted to make sure she heard me.
“I need your help. Laura, the one who owns the Hacienda,” I glanced up to see if she was following, Julie nodded. “She’s been kidnapped. I think by some guys working for Carl. And, there was a guy named Juan who was killed at Laura’s house.”
Julie’s face didn’t change as she pulled away. “Just sit tight and I will get you that drink.” She said, patting me on the shoulder.
“Did you hear me?” I practically screeched over the din.
She smiled, “Draft or in a bottle? Never mind. I will surprise you.” She disappeared towards the bar. The smoke and crowd blocking her from my sight.
I seethed. What the hell was that about? I felt vulnerable sitting here. What if Roy
Julie did come back. Putting down the cocktail napkin, she laid bottle of beer on top. “Might want to turn over the napkin.” She said with a smile. “That’ll be four dollars.
As soon as she left I flipped the napkin over, “I’m on break at ten. Outside,” was all it said. I didn’t drink the beer. Instead, I ran out to my car and waited.
At 10:08, Julie came out. I started the engine, and she ran over to me and hopped in.
“I can’t believe what an asshole Carl is,” was her greeting. She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “Are you sure about Juan?” She asked, her face pleading me to tell her something different.
I nodded instead. “Yea.”
“Shit.” She muttered wiping away a tear. Instantly composed, she sat up. “You gotta get out of here. You are Laura’s roommate right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “If they took her, they probably went to the farmhouse. And, I don’t think anyone is gonna be there for a couple of hours. I heard something about Carl coming in today from Cabo. So, if she is there, you can get the police over there right away.”
“Where is the farmhouse?” I asked.
Julie handed me a scrap of paper. “Ok I don’t have the address, but it is a couple miles from here.”
I felt defeated. “The cops are already swarming around all the houses Carl owns.” I said.
“Yea, they came by tonight too looking for him and Roy. They didn’t say much though. Thought it was the same o’le. But, this isn’t one of Carl’s houses. This one belonged to Juan. His family owned it. He lived there. Sometimes everyone just hung out there.”
She handed me the paper, but didn’t leave the car. “Shit, I need a cigarette.” She whispered. Shaking her head she looked away. “Laura’s a good kid. Juan… Juan was one of a kind. Shit. I need a new job.” Without looking at me, she jumped out of the car and walked back toward the Sweet Shop.
The Julie’s directions weren’t what I expected. “Drive about two miles to Southern, turn at the dairy farm, go past the stop sign and turn at the second right.” It started.
Getting as far as I did with Julie’s directions, I glanced down, afraid to pull over. She had me winding my way into a small older subdivision consisting of small farms and orange groves. I made mental notes, taking in street names so I could call it in to the police once I got where I was going.
Finally, Julie’s directions became sketchy. She had me turning on to a small road with a handful of houses on the dead-end street. “The house is on the left almost at the end of the street. And it is brown.” Oh yippee. The rural area, void of streetlights made it impossible to tell what color any house might be.
I crept on to the block, hoping I didn’t look conspicuous. All of the homes were like Laura’s: 1960s ranch-styles with slump block fronts and small windows. They were modest homes bought by people with modest means. The majority of the houses were already dark for the night. These home owners would be getting an early start tomorrow.
Creeping down the road I wondered if I made a mistake with Julies directions. I was almost to the end of the street, when I saw Laura’s truck parked on the side of the home I just passed. The only way to have seen it would be to drive by the house. Inside, the curtains were drawn, but the lights were on. There was a black Mercedes parked in the driveway. Quickly, I turned around, before anyone looked out the window.
Glancing down, I looked at the clock: 10:31. I said a quick prayer for Carl to be late. At the beginning of the street, where I had come in, I did another u-turn so I was facing the rest of the block. I parked, turned off the lights and called Officer Williams, leaving her a detailed message. I then called 911.
In all fairness, I probably sounded like a lunatic to the emergency dispatcher, explaining how someone might be kidnapped inside by people who do business with Pablo Villanova. With a great deal of impatience, I relayed to the woman on the other end of my call an abridged edition of the night’s events. I gave her a description of the house and Mercedes (both dark, both sitting on the street where I was). I stressed the urgency and dropped Officer William’s name about four times. Finally, the woman on the other end of the phone assured me she would send a car.
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