“Lieutenant Holmes overseeing the calls. Also Kraus and Burke were on covering Homicide. There seems to have been a rash of deaths last night, a lot from tainted heroin. Then they got the usual—violence, domestics and one or two natural deaths. The night shift was hopping.” Jake handed Louie his notes and sketches from the scene.
“Better them than us. Okay, back to Kolinski. He’s a small-time dealer who uses Danny Wallace as his supplier. And Danny was last seen with him. Wallace has a record as long as my arm for dealing, theft, and mischief, no charges or history of violence, but word on the street is he’s now working with either Spike or the local mob.”
“He’s stepping down in the world. Let’s start with him.”
“No one knows his whereabouts. I put word out on the street that I’m looking for him. I’ll do follow-ups when I locate him,” Louie said, turning to leave his office. “Hopefully, he’ll lead us to Spike, and close that case.”
Spike was still wanted for the killing of nineteen-year-old, Xavier Orlando. The poor kid was shot through his door when Spike went looking for someone who had stiffed him on a drug deal.
“We ever find out his real identity?”
“No. Spike turned up one day and took over the trade with force. Vice hasn’t been able to get his fingerprints. No one knows where he came from.”
“Did Spike kill the kid for stepping on his territory?” Jake asked.
“It’s one of the things I’ll be looking in to,” Louie said as he left.
* * * *
Around three o’clock, Kyra forced herself to give her mother a call. She wanted to speak with her son. Not up to the grilling, Kyra hesitated before she pressed in the numbers for her mother. Suck it up, Kyra, you’re going to have to listen to it now or later. Better to get it over with. She banged in their number.
Sean and Margo Hannigan, otherwise known as her parents, had cut her off when they found out about the gambling. Each one had pulled her aside and told her they’d give her the money for the lawyer if she’d get help and promise not to set foot into the casino again, but she was unable to comply. Didn’t want to comply, she corrected.
Her mother picked up the phone on the third ring, out of breath. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I was outside when the phone rang. I forgot to take the portable with me.”
“Mom, Dad tells you all the time to take it with you. What if something happened or you needed to call for help?” Kyra lectured.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m running behind at work. Can you put Trevor on?”
“The bus hasn’t come yet.”
Kyra didn’t respond.
“Are you there, dear?”
“Yes, Mom, have Trevor call me at work when the bus drops him off.”
“I will. Kyra, how are you doing?”
She heard the concern in her mother’s voice. Ignore it. If she cared she’d help you out. “I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been over since our conversation. We miss you.”
“I don’t want to do this now. I’m at work.”
“We still love you. It’s for your own good.”
“Yeah, right. I have to go, make sure he calls me.” She disconnected the call before her mother replied.
* * * *
Wednesday got away from Jake. A visit to Saul Church’s elderly mother took longer than he had planned on. One that Detective Stack should’ve done at the beginning of the investigation. Saul Church no matter what, always called his mother. Since she hadn’t heard from him in a couple of weeks she was convinced her son was dead. He owed the wrong people money since she had cut him off without a dime.
“Mrs. Church, do you know who these people are?” Jake handed over some pictures of mob associates, including Phil Lucci’s twenty-year-old one.
After a careful study, she laid the pictures on her lap. “No, Saul never said, but the last three weeks before he disappeared, he was jittery and short tempered.”
“Where did he gamble?”
“Wherever he found a poker game. He’s a good son, Lieutenant, but the gambling took over his life. He lost all sense of decency. He stole from me, from his aunts, he even stole from his kids. His ex-wife blames me for pampering him.”
“Are you sure he didn’t take off to avoid the people he owes?” Jake asked.
“I’m sure. His landlord gave him two weeks to come up with the money or he’d be evicted. Saul asked me if minded if he stayed here until he got back on his feet.” Mrs. Church wiped at her eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. “It will be my fault if they killed him.”
“No it won’t, Mrs. Church. Saul was a grown man who put himself in this situation, not you.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Lieutenant, but it doesn’t help. I love him. And if you find him alive, I’ll bail him out again.”
Of that, Jake had no doubt. He stood. “I’ll let myself out.”
He left Saul’s mother to her guilt.
Jake struck out with Saul Church’s friends. They refused to meet or talk to him. He checked his watch. Damn, time moved at the speed of lightning.
* * * *
After work, Kyra went home, fixed dinner, but still had no appetite. Looking down at the food, she picked it up and dumped it in the garbage. Minutes later, food forgotten she surfed the channels on the television. The casino called to her like a scorned lover. Damn, the need to be there clawed at her. She got antsy if she didn’t go. Spikes jabbed her brain as she paced her condo. She still hadn’t decided what answer she’d give Joe tomorrow. The choices he’d given her made her want to throw up. She wasn’t a hooker, for God’s sake. Doing the disgusting, sloppy, fat guy was out of the question.
Burn a dead body? Trevor became her reason to accept the offer. Money equaled custody of Trevor. And for God’s sake, that’s what I do for a living anyhow.
Trevor didn’t call after school. That was her mother’s way of getting back at her for hanging up on her. Boy, that burned her ass. Kyra needed to talk to Trevor. He was the one good, pure person in her life—she couldn’t lose him. After dialing Tommy’s number, she got his voicemail. She left a message for Trevor to call her back.
What was the crime if she burned a dead body? Seriously, she’d have to look up the penalty for doing that. A hundred thousand dollars and no debt. She’d make sure she and Trev had a great life far away from all of them.
Decision made. Problem solved.
Kyra went to the liquor cabinet, took out the bottle of vodka, and poured some into a glass to reinforce her decision. She took shot after shot until she passed out.
The buzzer on her alarm went off eight hours later. Stumbling out of bed, she made it to the bathroom, dropped to her knees and threw up. Ten minutes after nothing but the dry heaves, she stood with the help of the counter for support. The taste of the mouthwash upset her stomach more.
The woman looking back at her in the mirror frightened her. Not recognizing herself, she examined the dark circles under her eyes that had appeared there this week—not a flattering addition. Her skin, paler than usual, almost translucent, emphasized a bleakness in her eyes she didn’t recognize, which completed the transformation. Desperate and sick, she needed to pull it together to get through today. The pounding in her head didn’t help—it grew louder with each movement. Her cell phone flashed missed call as she