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like know how to work with their hands and fight." "You don't?" I didn't specify whether I meant the knowing or doing. "No, I've never been a very physical person, but I'm smart. I got an education, I use my brain to feed my family and put a roof over our heads. I need the roof fixed or a patio built, I pay a professional to do it. He never understood that, said I should do it myself instead of having strangers in my house. Other men shouldn't be around my family. His thinking was medieval like that. Doesn't matter that those people have to make a living too, or that I wouldn't know what to do with a circular saw if my life depended on it. That shack of his, he built it himself, did all the work on it. He was so proud of it." Wow, I guess I'd touched a nerve. "You've been out there to see him?" "A few times... always with Joanie and the kids. He was a mean son of a bitch, but he loved his grandchildren, I'll give him that. Spoiled them." "How exactly?" He waved his hand. "Oh, you know, toys and games. Gave them money. Let the boys run around in the woods like wild animals, hunting, fishing and sleeping outside even. They loved it." "They're how old?" "David is fifteen, Daniel's thirteen, both born in June like me. Weird, huh?" Paul, David, and Daniel? I was sensing a trend here. Maybe they were religious. "We haven't told them yet. I'm afraid they won't take it well. He's the only grandfather they've ever known. My father died when I was just a little older than they are now. Worked himself to death, Mom used to say, but it wasn't the work, it was the play." That was interesting. "How do you mean?" Everybody has a story if you listen. "Dad was a stone mason down in Florida. After the magic came back, a good stoneworker could make a damn fine living. Problem was he spent it faster than he could make it, sometimes before my mom could pay the bills even. He was what is now commonly called a 'high-functioning' alcoholic. Everybody liked him, said he was a funny guy, a great friend. I don't remember that, I remember my mother crying because he'd spent his paycheck at the bar." He took a deep breath, exhaled. He was looking off into space, reliving painful memories. "I don't think Momma liked him much, and I feel like I didn't really know him. When I was sixteen, they found his body in the Corkscrew." "Is that a bar down there?" He looked at me and actually smiled a little. "No, it's a swamp, like a preserve, south of Fort Myers. Daddy went there hunting at least once a month. You know." He let it hang there. "He was proud of being a panther, went to see his people, he called them, a small pack in the Everglades. Never took us with him. My mom told me once she thought he had a woman there. Gave her money, our money. So I'll be honest with you, I never liked my dad. I never liked Boris either." "Sounds like you had it rough." I pointed around to indicate the house. "But you're doing well enough now." The place was nice, spotless and tastefully decorated with high-quality furniture and expensive paintings on the wall. Nothing to indicate that two teenage boys lived there. It was almost sterile. As a young man, I would have preferred the cabin. "Yes, we do okay. Like I said, I got my degree and work as a liaison between insurance companies and contractors. Make sure they don't overcharge for the work. Joanie works for lawyers in Buckhead. Her father hated that, said I should make enough for her to stay home. Said a real man acts as head of the household and provides for his family, and the wife should stay home and take care of the kids. He thought we should homeschool the kids. Not sure why--they're in an excellent private school." He really had it in for the old boar. I decided to ask more questions. Maybe he'd tell me something I could use. "What about Boris? Did he go to good schools?" "I don't know much about his upbringing. Like I said, we weren't close. Joanie could tell you, but she's still pretty upset. Do we really have to do this now?" I smelled sweat and fear. There's something about fear. It must be the lion in me. I feel it, I smell it, I taste it. It's almost tangible for me, and when I do catch a whiff of it, the world goes crystal clear. I stared directly into his eyes. I knew my eyes had gone gold and he knew what that gold meant. He looked at the floor. That's better. I stepped closer until mere inches separated us and continued in a low voice, "Yes, Mr. Parker, we do have to talk about it. Someone murdered your wife's father. It wasn't a quick or easy kill. He suffered before he died. The people who killed him wanted something, and we don't know what it was or if they found it. I'm here asking questions because I mean to catch whoever is responsible and bring them to justice. I rule the pack, I make the laws, and I punish those who break them. That's who I am, that's what I do. I appreciate that this is a rough time for your family and you're grieving, but you will answer my questions and you will not hinder this investigation." His expression changed, his shoulders slumped, and in a quaking voice he said quietly, "She's not here. They have her." And there it was. "Please, the boys don't know. They said they'd hurt her if any of your people came around." "Who?" "I guess you or men like the ones hiding outside and the boy by the car." I took a deep breath. I needed him alive and talking. Roaring at him would just make him clam up. "Who has your wife and when did they take her?" "A little while ago. She went to see him, came home crying, then she got mad. As angry as I've ever seen her. She asked me if I'd done it or had it done. I told her she was crazy, she said it was my fault that I owed them money and that they'd killed her father to get it. It's not true; I tried. I asked him for the money, just a loan. He laughed at me. Called me weak." "Who took your wife?" The words kept spilling out of him like marbles out of a torn bag. "Yeah, I told them he had a stash hidden away, but I swear I didn't know they'd murder him. I sort of hoped maybe he'd kill them. After we fought, she went to see them, said she wasn't afraid of their kind. Later they called and said if I wanted to see her again to bring them what I owed. Why would she do that? Why would she go and confront them? Now they have her and I don't have the money they want." Enough was enough. "Mr. Parker, if you don't give me a name in the next five seconds, I promise I will personally beat one out of you." *** *** *** "The Irvine boys?" Mahon frowned. "Yeah, I know them. Mick and John, came down from Michigan with their dad after their parents split up. Must be almost twenty years ago now. They were just kids, teenagers, but they were strong and they started working. Now they each have their own business. Mick does floors and John does pretty much everything else or has a guy who can. They do a lot of flood restoration, total renovations. They did some really nice work on Raphael's house, took the carpet off the stairs, you know he hates it, put down wood everywhere. You should see his kitchen. It's all stainless steel appliances, tile floors, and marble countertops. Why, are you thinking about hiring them for some work? "No. I was going to ask them to release Joanie Parker and answer for killing her father." I gave him a moment to process that. Mahon stood perfectly still. I could sense Jim tensing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |