Nobody’s Hero (20 page)

Danny looked back into the room. Brad had folded the blanket and stuffed the garbage from their dinner into the drugstore bag. “What should we do now?” Brad asked.

“I guess we’d better call
mi papá
. Or maybe the police?”

“How do we explain our presence here? We were basically trespassing.”

“Anonymous call?” Danny suggested. “We could say we saw someone going in and out of the house and, since it was late and under construction, we worried about vandals.”

“Do you think it’s related to the graffiti the other day?”

“I think it’s got to be, don’t you? I mean, it would be too much of a coincidence otherwise, right?”

Brad nodded. “That’s what I think. I also think the warning was meant for someone on the crew.”

“It makes sense, but who?”

“There’s something else.” Brad started popping his knuckles. “How did they get in here tonight? You locked the door after we got in, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, thinking back. “I put the key away and locked the door.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I didn’t want to be interrupted.”

“That’s what I thought. How’d they get in?”

“Maybe they broke in somehow?”

They gathered their things and made their way downstairs. At the front door, Brad took out his phone and used the glow from the screen to illuminate the door. It didn’t look like anyone had broken in using force around the lock or knob. Danny could admit he didn’t know the first thing about breaking and entering, but if force or some tool had been used, surely there would be signs of damage.

“They used the key,” Brad said, shining the light on the lockbox. The very open lockbox.

“I locked it back up!” Danny said quickly.

“I know, I saw you. You know what that means, right?”

“No, what?”

“Whoever broke in knew the code.”

“That’s not possible.” Even as he said the words, Danny’s mind whirled with the implications. It
had
been somebody on the crew.
Someone betrayed Papá
.

“Who all knows the lockbox codes?”

“I don’t know.”

“You knew it,” Brad pointed out. “Who else could have?”

“I don’t know. I knew the code because I had to deliver stuff here a few weeks ago and something about the pattern of the numbers stayed with me. Chuy and Jackie would probably know it. They’re in charge here when Papá has to be at one of the other sites or in meetings or whatever. Ray might know it. It could be anybody. It wouldn’t occur to my dad to keep it a secret from the crew. Almost everyone on the crew has been with the company for years and is totally trustworthy.”

“It sounds like someone owes someone a lot of money. People often do things they wouldn’t normally do when there’s money or harm in the balance. Do you think whoever did this is the one who stole the equipment? The one guy said whoever he was threatening had made a few small payments. Maybe he made payments after hocking your dad’s tools?”

Danny could hear the unspoken reference to Ray in Brad’s statement. He refused to believe, or even consider, that his brother could be involved in something that would hurt the company. Besides, they were in the middle of Minnesota. What trouble could Ray possibly get into that would equal ten thousand dollars?

“We should leave the lockbox and door the way we found it. Papá will need to know someone he trusts is involved.”

Danny stalked to the Jeep, Brad at his side. The cops had better figure out who was involved. Not only had they betrayed Papá and possibly set up Brad to take the blame, they’d also put a pretty crappy end to what had been a fantastic date.

* * *

When they arrived at the Ortegas’ house, Brad didn’t want to undo his seat belt. He wanted to rewind the last hour and replay their time in the house before the stranger had come and trashed the place.

“I don’t want to go in yet.” Danny leaned back and closed his eyes. “Someone’s going to call Papá and I don’t think I can be there when they do.” He turned his head to look at Brad. “Does it make me a coward that I don’t want to face him, to see his eyes when he realizes someone he trusts is fucking with his business?”

“It makes you human.”

“And I don’t know what help I could be, anyway. It’s not like he’ll look to me for support. I’m just a kid. At least that’s how he thinks of me.”

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” Brad said. He hated seeing the disappointment and self-doubt in Danny’s expression. Danny who was so positive, whose personality was larger-than-life. He took Danny’s hand, trying to give what comfort he could.

There might be something he could do to help, at least for the night. The real question was, could he handle it? He tugged at his thumb, cracking the big knuckle. He’d promised to try. Here was his chance. He met Danny’s dark gaze. “You can come up and stay with me tonight if you want.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Brad squeezed Danny’s hand. “Really, it’s fine.”

“But before... Are you sure you want to be that open about this?”

The more Danny worried, the more determined Brad was. He could do this. “There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, and giving you a place to crash—especially if it’s next to me—isn’t a hardship.”

The smile on Danny’s face made the decision worth every second of discomfort he might face later.

“That’d be great.” Danny pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door. Brad let go of his hand and got out on his side of the Jeep.

“You’d better at least let your parents know you won’t be home tonight so they don’t worry.”

“It won’t bother you for me to tell them I’m with you, will it?” Danny asked. “I don’t like to lie to my parents and, well, I’m hiding enough from them right now.”

“You said before they wouldn’t mind. You’re sure they won’t care that you’re with me, right?”

“Are you kidding me?
Mi papá
picked out our condoms. I’m pretty sure he knows we’re more than friends. He also knows we’ve been seeing each other and, last I checked, we’re both over the age of consent.”

Just past the driveway, where the path split between the kitchen door and the garage stairs, they halted. “I’ll peek in and let Mamá know where I’ll be. Wait for me?”

“Always.” The minute the word escaped his mouth, Brad wanted to call it back. Declarations of love were one thing, but lines straight out of a cheesy date movie were something altogether different.

Danny grinned at him, as though understanding his reaction. “I’ll hold you to it.” He winked and turned in to the house.

Ray’s monster-sized truck roared up to the house, the bass from his stereo pounding. Ray jumped out of the truck and slammed the door behind him. He strode to the kitchen door with measured steps, his posture unusually rigid. Ray didn’t seem to notice Brad at all when he passed him on his way to the house.

Had he been the one at the Bay Street house or was it something else? Brad sincerely hoped Ray wasn’t involved. He didn’t want to imagine the reactions from Mr. and Mrs. Ortega or Danny if Ray was responsible. They deserved more than that.

A few seconds later, Danny appeared, grinning. “Mamá said to tell you hello and we are both expected for brunch tomorrow morning.”

Heat crept up Brad’s neck. “I somehow hope she thinks you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

Danny laughed, almost a giggle. “I think she prefers to think something like that. She knows better, but it’s probably better for everyone if she pretends.” Danny grabbed Brad’s hand and led him to the stairs up to Brad’s apartment. “C’mon. It’s still early for bed, but I have a feeling we can come up with something to keep us occupied for a little while.” He waved the plastic bag with his free hand.

Brad hadn’t even noticed Danny had the sack. “Oh my God! Tell me you didn’t let your mom see that!”

“Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t!” Danny taunted, and ran up the stairs, towing Brad behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The cops showed up at the jobsite on Monday. They planned to interview everyone who had access to the lockbox code.

Danny didn’t like lying at the best of times, and lying to the police seemed like a really bad idea. But admitting to having used the key to get it on with his boyfriend in private would likely put him at the top of the suspect list, right? But Papá would have to be told and then he’d be disappointed in Danny. There was too much to worry about.

“You’re over-thinking it,” Brad told him when the police started making the rounds with their interviews.

“I know, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe you should tell the truth. How bad could it be?”

They were back in the house, adding the finishing touches to the rooms that hadn’t been destroyed. Every time Danny saw the gaping holes—the result of a sledgehammer being used with great force—it felt like fire ants were eating at his stomach lining.

“I don’t know.” Danny flopped down on a roll of carpet waiting to be laid. “I hate this. This isn’t like the time I stole a pack of gum from the grocery store. I thought when
mi mamá
made me go back and admit to the manager what I had done, it was the worst I could feel. This is so much worse than that!”

“Are you telling me you’ve never lied to your parents?”

“Not about something like this. Mostly I avoided telling them about stuff that wasn’t any of their business. I mean, they didn’t need to know about the time I got drunk when I was sixteen, right? I didn’t drive, no one got hurt, so what did it matter? You know, stuff like that.”

Maybe it made him a mama’s boy, but keeping this from his family had him on edge.

“Daniel Ortega?”

One of the policemen stood at the entrance to the room with Papá next to him. “We need to ask you some questions,” the police officer said.

Danny swallowed and stood up. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but the idea of being interviewed by the police made him think of grimy interrogation rooms and hulking guys playing bad-cop and badder-cop. Every cautionary tale he’d heard about the way Hispanic men were treated by white police spun through his head in an endless stream of worst-case scenarios.

The officer was young and skinny enough that his utility belt seemed disproportionately large around his waist. His bony wrists were visible under his uniform shirt. Danny took a deep breath. He didn’t have any real reason to panic, and this guy didn’t look like the type to throw a metro phonebook at his head. Good to know.

Papá led them to the smallest of the bedrooms on the main floor. So this was going to be the interrogation room, was it? No two-way glass, no metal tables. This was getting better all the time.

“You’re aware of the damage done over the weekend?” The cop—Officer Timothy Brandon, according to the patch on his uniform—pulled out a little notebook and a pen.

“Yeah, ah, we saw it. I mean, I saw it, this morning.”

“It looks like the vandals gained entrance using the key in the lockbox at the front door.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was obvious the cop was waiting for an answer. “That’s what we’ve been told.”

“It doesn’t look as though anyone broke into the lockbox.”

Again, not a question, but when the pause after the statement grew uncomfortable, Danny said, “Okay.”

“How do you suppose they accessed the lockbox?”

“Whoever it was must have known the code.”

“Do you know the code?”

“Yeah. I’ve had to deliver equipment and things after-hours, so I was given the code.”

“Who else knows the code?”

“I couldn’t say for sure. I mean, my father, obviously, and Chuy and Jackie, the crew chiefs. My brother Ray. My brother-in-law Frankie. There are probably more who know the code or have known it for one reason or another. The people who work for my father are trustworthy.”

“Your father mentioned there have been some items stolen lately. Do you know anything about that?”

“Only what I’ve heard. I know what pieces were taken, but nothing more.”

“I’ve heard your father suspects one of the new employees of being responsible for the thefts.”

“Brad didn’t steal anything!”

“You sound certain.”

“If you knew Brad, you’d understand. He doesn’t have it in him to steal.”

Officer Brandon nodded and made a note in his little notebook. “Why were you nervous when we came in here?”

“I’m a young Hispanic male and I watch TV.”

Officer Brandon didn’t seem surprised by the comment. “Are you sure it wasn’t guilt?”

“Guilt? Why would I be guilty?”

“We see a lot of vandalism like this, and when there are threatening messages involved, it’s usually associated with gang and drug activity.”

“You can’t seriously think I’m involved in selling drugs or in gangs. Are there even any gangs in Northfield?”

Officer Brandon nodded again and made another note in his little notebook. Did he have any other reaction? “Sometimes we get some activity from the cities, sometimes someone taps into the college crowd. You said you knew the code. Did you share it with anyone?”

“No!”

“Who’s we?”

Danny shook his head. “We?”

“You said ‘we’ve been told’ and ‘we saw.’ Who is ‘we’?”

“Oh.” Danny jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “A friend was with me.”

“A friend? And who is this
friend?
” By the tone of his voice, Danny couldn’t tell if Officer Brandon thought he was making something up or if he expected
friend
to mean fellow gang member or drug contact.

“My boyfriend.”

That seemed to surprise him. He looked up from his little notebook. “Your boyfriend?” Danny gnawed his lip. The cop waited. The silence grew and grew until it was a separate entity in the unfinished room.

Danny broke. “Okay, here’s the thing. You can’t tell my dad, okay?”

Officer Brandon’s posture didn’t change, but his gaze became predatory.

“Oh no, it wasn’t me. But I was here and I heard it all. You see, my boyfriend and I wanted some privacy...” The whole story poured out, including some details that probably weren’t necessary. Surely Officer Brandon didn’t need to know about running into his father at the drugstore or that the chicken was lukewarm by the time they ate it. Danny managed to keep from sharing the more explicit details of the evening, thank God. “You see, we overheard everything that happened, but we didn’t see anything.”

“How many people do you think were here?”

Danny thought back. “I only heard two speak, but based on the footsteps, I figure there were maybe more.”

“Did you recognize any of the voices?”

“No, not really.”

“Is it
no
or
not really?
” Officer Brandon may have looked like a typical ninety-pound fifteen-year-old playing dress-up, but he had the serious cop tone down pat.

“Something about the one guy’s voice sort of rang a bell, if you know what I mean, but I couldn’t place it. And I couldn’t hear what the other guy said.”

“And you think the one person, the one being warned, was hurt?”

“It sounded like it—a thump and a grunt—but I couldn’t swear to it.”

“And what time did all of this happen?”

“I didn’t check my phone at the time, but it was about ten forty-five when we got into the car, so it would have been a little before that.”

“Why didn’t you tell your father about this?”

“‘Cause I snuck into the worksite without permission to make out with my boyfriend.” Danny would have added a
duh
but decided it would be better to tone down the sarcasm since he was talking to the police. “I didn’t want to get into trouble. But now it looks like I’m going to have to fess up anyway.”

* * *

“Jesus, Danny, when are you going to grow up? You’re not a little kid anymore, why do you act like one?”

The first sentence was a slap to the face. The second a punch to the gut. It wouldn’t have hurt as much if Danny hadn’t been asking himself the same questions, but from his father, the sting was worse.

After the conversation with the police, Danny had cornered Papá and told him the whole story, again excluding the juicy bits no father needed to hear about his son’s sex life.

“I know it was stupid,” Danny said. He wanted to pace, to walk off some of the jittery nerves filling his body. But the only place he’d found with any privacy to have this discussion was the unfinished bathroom on the first floor. Between the exposed plumbing and the toilet, sink and vanity waiting to be installed, he barely had room to stand, let alone walk. Danny jammed his hands in his pocket. “But it’s so hard to find any privacy around the house. There are always people there. Always. Brad and I only wanted to find a place where we could get away from everyone and talk. No family, no other people.”

“Believe it or not, I get it,” Papá said. “What I don’t get is how that led you to the worksite. If you needed to be alone, and I’m assuming given your purchases on Saturday you couldn’t go to the park or something, Brad’s got the garage apartment all to himself.”

“You’d think that would work, wouldn’t you? But let me tell you, it’s awkward being...intimate when someone can crash in at any point. Mamá almost caught us—” Danny broke off, suddenly sure his father didn’t need to know about the interrupted BJ. His face burned.

“Try having four kids,” Papá said, then brushed it aside. “Danny, you knew there had been trouble at the worksites. Didn’t it occur to you that you could have run into someone there, someone dangerous? Someone could have hurt you or Brad, or worse. You were careless.”

Danny looked down, unable to meet his father’s gaze.

“When you did run into trouble,” Papá continued, “why didn’t you tell anyone? You could have saved a lot of people a lot of time this morning if you’d come forward last night. Instead, you hid at Brad’s, pretending nothing had happened.”

And there it was. The disappointment he’d hoped to avoid. Apparently Brad wasn’t the only one to avoid uncomfortable situations.

“I didn’t want to... I mean, I couldn’t face you being disappointed in me. Pissed, I could handle, but disappointment? I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking less of me for any reason.”

“Danny—”

“Papá, you have no idea how
wonderful
you are. Do you know how rare it is for a family, for a father, to be as generous and supportive of his children as you are, especially a gay son? You never batted an eye, no one did, when I came out.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock. You married two different boys in kindergarten. It was pretty clear, even then.”

“See? That’s what I mean. You didn’t try and change me or mold me into some other kind of boy. You let me be me. For God’s sake, Papá, you taught me about gay sex and risks and things that weren’t covered in any health class when I was fourteen. You didn’t bat an eye,” he repeated. “You and Mamá, and the rest of the family, you guys are special. I couldn’t face disappointing you because I made a stupid decision in the heat of the moment. I owe you more than that.”

“Danny, I was nineteen once. I know all about stupid decisions.” His earlier anger calmed, Papá leaned against the unfinished wall of the bathroom. “You don’t owe us for loving you. It’s not a debt to be paid. The only thing you owe us is the same thing we all owe each other—respect and honesty and love. That’s family.”

“You’re right,” Danny said after a long pause. “I’m sorry I was an idiot.”

Papá shook his head. “You were young, not an idiot. I’m glad you and Brad weren’t hurt. At least you weren’t stupid enough to try and stop them, whoever they are.”

“Are we cool?” Danny asked.

With a sigh, Papá nodded. “Yeah. Now get back to work before I dock your pay for shirking.”

“Yes, sir!” Danny saluted his father and went back to his work area. Things may not have been perfect, but at least they were closer to normal.