An Unfinished Life (19 page)

Read An Unfinished Life Online

Authors: Mary Wasowski

Tags: #An Unfinished Life

“Forgive me, mama and papa. I tried to be a good son. All I wanted was more for you.” All of these years after their passing, I never really allowed myself to grieve for them. I had to be strong for Massimo. He grieved and mourned them for a long time. I never rushed him. I just stepped in and took care of him like I had always done. He was their pride. He had their respect, whereas I had their disappointment because of the choices I made. Too late to change now, right? With Sara walking out on me, what else did I have to lose? I shrugged off all the pity I was spouting out and began walking again. By the time I got back to my bar, I was frozen down to my bones, but at least I wasn’t drunk anymore. The walk did me some good clearing my head. If only my heart would feel better too.

Walking the old neighborhood put things in perspective. It served as a reminder to who I was, where I come from, and quite possibly where I was going. For me, I didn’t get too far as to location, but that’s just logistics. As long as I had Sara, my home was where she was. I could have made some calls and find her by morning, but if she wasn’t willing to talk to me, then I would have only made matters worse between us.

Even when we think we are protecting the ones we love with our intentions, sometimes they get hurt anyway. Back then, I allowed my brother and the love I had for my wife manipulate me into going against everything I believed in. They knew what it had cost me but convinced me to follow their path. I believed I had honored their wishes up until now, but how could I ignore an open threat of intent? I was angry beyond reason when Nicolette hid her secret from me, refusing my help. My heart ached for Sara to come back to me, but for now, I would give her the space she asked for.

 

 

A
s I began to unlock my bar, in the corner of my eye a dark figure was stepping out of a car and walking toward me. With my alarms raised, I was thankful for the piece that I always carried. With my hand on my gun, I was ready to take down whoever was attempting to rob me.

“Jackie, it’s Max.”

“What the fuck, Max? It’s past two am. What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Looking for you, my friend, and not really looking forward to a bullet in my head for my efforts.” I let out my breath and secured my gun back into its holster.

“I haven’t seen you since we last talked. You’ve been off the grid for the past few days, and now I come here to find you like this.”

“And what did you find, Max? Coming home from a walk is not national news.”

“Okay, sorry for being concerned. Can I come in before my balls freeze off?”

Leave it to Max for keeping it real.

We made our way into the bar and warmed ourselves with a brandy.

“You have something for me? Pretty late for a social call.”

Max handed me another envelope, this time containing something that surprised me.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“You got that right. We found him, Jack. The mysterious photographer that’s been working for St. Clair. He’s based out of LA, some ex-con now redeemed. He’s small time. Does weddings and shit like that. We tracked him to his studio after we noticed a mark on one of the photos. It’s like his personal signature to let people know his work, and he’s up for hire.”

“How did you guys find that mark, and I didn’t? I’ve been staring at the photos for days.”

“We didn’t see it either Jack. We called in a favor.”

“And that might be?”

“No worries, Jack. No one lost a limb over this intel. One of the captains from Petey’s crew helped us out. His boy is like some freaking genius out of MIT, and he was here for the weekend visiting. We showed him the photos, and he found the mark. He then did some shit on his computer, and voila! We have the photographer.”

“Where is this guy now?”

“Like I said, in LA.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say…he’s secured.”

I was too tired for this back and forth volley with Max. I owed him a lot for all he had done for me. I downed another shot, and then Max told me the rest.

After a hot shower, I managed to get a few hours of sleep and then booked myself on the next flight out of O’Hare to LAX. I needed a meet-and-greet with the neighborhood photographer.

A car was waiting for Max and me when we walked out into the bright California sunshine. Max was whooping, hollering, and reveling at the temps, but we weren’t here for a vacation. We drove for about an hour until we reached the house where this guy Eddie Valdez was being held.

“So what’s the plan, Jack?” Max asked before we walked into the ranch-styled house with a manicured lawn.

“Who owns this house?”

“No worries, Jack. I’ve got your back. This is on loan from someone who owed me a favor. I only had to promise to replace the carpet if there were any mishaps.”

I raised my eyebrows at my friend, but he busted out in laughter.

“Relax, Jack. We go in, get what we need, and then we let him go.”

My head was beginning to throb with Max’s antics. He wasn’t a heavy hitter anymore, but if he needed to step up, he would with no hesitation.

We entered the house with Max taking the lead. He knew these guys out here better than I did. I was beginning to feel disconnected, almost second guessing my decision to come out here at all, until two guys walked up to greet me. They both introduced themselves and shook my hand. One was rambling on with useless small talk until the other elbowed him to shut up. He made his apologies for his talkative partner. I nodded and wanted to get on with everything.

I was led downstairs into the basement where one Eddie Valdez was bound to a chair. Clearly he was roughed up a bit before my arrival. His swollen, black and blue eyes widened at my appearance. I saw the fear, but I wasn’t here to hurt him. All I needed was information, but he didn’t need to know that. Max remained stoic and off to the side while I unfastened my jacket and took a seat in front of Eddie.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked him.

He nodded his head yes, and then I spoke again.

“I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth. If you decide to scream, that will be a mistake on your part as no one will hear you. Do you see the man standing behind me? Nod again so I know you understand.” He did without hesitation. “Okay then. Anyway, the man standing behind me is prepared to put a bullet in your head if you disregard my warning, so don’t be stupid and you won’t get hurt. Do you understand?”

He nodded rather nervously, convincing me that he got what this meeting was about. I ripped off the tape like a Band-Aid, and he let out a small shriek. Couldn’t say that I blamed him, though, since some of his beard hair came off with it.

“Now that we’ve been introduced, let me tell you the reason behind my visit. You’ve been really busy taking photographs of someone that is very special to me, and I want to know why that is?”

“I didn’t mean any harm, man. All I had to do was follow her around and snap a few pictures.”

“A few pictures? I think you took more than a
few
pictures, Eddie! Looks more like stalking. Tell me…what do you get out of this? Fast money, perhaps? And when the job is over, where will you be? Let me tell you…nowhere. Now, you may think this is harmless, and once again, it’s just you taking a few pictures, but I see it differently. Do you have an end date? When do the pictures stop?”

“He never said when. I get an envelope filled with cash in my mailbox once a month, and then after I develop them, I send the prints to a post office box. I swear that’s it, man.”

I got up and gestured over to Max to join me in the other room.

“What did we find at his studio?”

“We flipped it inside and out and found nothing leading back to St. Clair.”

“Then tell me something, Max, who the fuck is Eddie Valdez? And how the hell did he become St. Clair’s lackey?”

I grabbed a chair and threw it against the wall, smashing it to pieces. You tell me this guy is small time and just out to make some easy money? But that doesn’t tell me how he got this job in the first place. Who’s the courier that delivers the money? Where’s this PO box located? I need to know this shit, Max, and I will beat it out of him to get it. Let’s go back in and get what we came for.”

Eddie looked to be shaking, unsure of his fate. I sat back down in front of him to question him once more.

“Now, Mr. Valdez, let’s start at the beginning. Who hired you? It’s a pretty simple question, and one that I will not ask twice.”

“Michael St. Clair.”

“And how did your path cross with his?”

“I was doing time when he waltzed his preppy ass into the block where I was being housed. It was too good to be true. He didn’t look like he belonged there. He was too pretty to be deemed a criminal. We saw him as an easy target that we could shake down right from the start, but then we were told to keep our hands off of him. The order came from Big Spike, and what he says goes. No one crosses him.”

I looked over to Max, and he already knew what I was thinking by my expression. Big Spike was one of our guys on the inside. Max gestured to his hair because apparently Big Spike’s hair was shaped into a mohawk, then divided into what looked like spikes. I shook my head and went back to listening to Valdez.

“St. Clair was on kitchen detail with me for a while, and then I talked to him a few times out in the yard. This guy was smooth, but there was something about him that at times made the hair rise on my neck. His eyes would go cold, and then he would just shoot his mouth off about being wronged and how everything will change when he gets out. I only had a few months left on my sentence, and in that timeframe we got to know each other better.”

“I don’t care to hear the details about how you got to know each other better, Mr. Valdez. Get on with it.”

“No man, you don’t understand. No prison booty. I don’t play for that team, and I had a wife to get back to. I just told him about needing money when I got out. I was good with a camera and hoped I would find a job on the outside. A few days later, he asked me to join him in his cell, and that’s when he showed me a picture of this girl…his girl, he said. He told me all about her and asked me to follow her around, take the pictures, and then send them to a PO box. He said that as long as I delivered what he requested, I would still get paid until he no longer needed my services. I didn’t see any harm in it, man, and the money helped my family. I was set-up in a small studio where I developed the pictures and took other jobs. I had already fucked up big time by doing something stupid that landed me in that hole, so this was my way out. I had left my wife and kids with nothing, so taking pictures of some girl for cash didn’t seem like a bad deal. I swear, man, I never touched her. She didn’t even know I was there. Please, you have to believe me! I got a sick kid, and this money pays for his care. I’ll stop and won’t take anymore pictures, but please let me go back to my family. I did it for them!”

He began shaking again and then crying like a baby. I gestured to Max to gag him again. I walked out to compose myself.

“What do you think?” Max asked me.

My mind was reeling at the fact that with all I had in place to protect my daughter and track Michael, he still managed to get around me. This was not sitting well with me, the realization that I had fucked up somehow.

“Look, Jack, his story matches up. His cell was right next to St. Clair’s. We have photos of them talking on the block and more accounts from our guys on the inside.”

“And his family? Does he truly have a sick child? Or is he playing us?”

Max handed me some papers. They contained medical statements and a picture of his son, a ten-year-old diagnosed with kidney disease who’s currently waiting for a transplant.
Fuck!

“Let’s go back in and talk to him again.”

Once again, Max removed the tape from his mouth, and this time he remained silent.

“You are shut-down, Mr. Valdez. You will no longer take any more photos of this young woman. Your relationship with Michael St. Clair is over. You are not to have any further contact with either of them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Am I assured that my associates here have all the remaining prints, memory cards, and everything that ties you to St. Clair?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“No, sir.”

“Fair enough, because if you even dare to disobey my orders, then Mr. Valdez, you will find yourself at the bottom of the ocean with blocks around your throat. And then where will that leave your son?”

“I swear, you have my word. I will never take another picture. I’m done, man. I swear it on the life of my son.”

I leaned down into his ear and whispered, “Mr. Valdez, if I were you, I would promise on something else and not disgrace your son with your sins. Hasn’t he suffered enough already with you as his father? You get to live today because of him. Don’t take my gift for granted.”

After leaving the house, I was lost in thought. This guy meant nothing to me, but there was a child involved who needed him more than my first instinct to make him pay for stalking Nicolette. He got another chance to do the right thing, whereas that was lost on St. Clair, who did not appreciate the incredible gift of penance he was given by my girl.

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