Thread of Innocence (Joe Tyler Mystery #4) (15 page)

THIRTY ONE

Brawley was located in the Imperial Valley, a narrow strip of desert land near the California and Arizona border that extended from the southern edge of the Salton Sea all the way down to El Centro. Originally a desert wasteland of trailers and weekend fun-seekers on ATV's, the area had grown into a full-blown, if less well-to-do, suburb of El Centro. Middle class families could find affordable housing if they didn't mind the heat and the original inhabitants, who didn't look fondly upon those looking to recreate suburbia in the California desert.

Lasko drove. It took us about two hours to make the drive. We didn't talk much, the radio filling the silence. I half-listened to the sports channel as I gazed out the window at the changing landscape, from city to agriculture to desert. I let my thoughts drift back to Lauren and Elizabeth and I wondered how they were getting along that morning. If Elizabeth had read my text. And I wondered exactly what we were going to find in Brawley.

Strip malls popped up on the side of road as we left the barren desert area and came into the city. Pick-up trucks were the favored choice of transportation on the dusty roads and people drove slowly, aimlessly, as if they had nowhere to go. Fast food joints, gas stations, check cashers and liquor stores dominated the retail stores I saw and no one looked happy to be there.

“You know they spell it wrong?” Lasko said, glancing at me. We were stopped at a red light.

“
Who spells what wrong?”

“
Brawley. The guy who donated a bunch of the land, his last name was Braly,” he explained. “City planners wanted to name it after him, to thank him. But he refused to let them use his name.” He smiled. “So they just added a couple letters and basically used it, anyway.”

I shook my head. “That's funny. And weird.”

Lasko nodded in agreement. “The desert is full of funny and weird.”

He punched an address into the GPS on the dash and it routed us out to the east of town, through several newer sub-divisions of homes and away from the center of the city. The further east we went, the more rugged everything got—the stores, the homes, even the road itself—and it felt like we were heading back into the desert. Lasko guided the truck into a cul-de-sac of two single-story, stucco homes that looked like they might've been the first two homes ever constructed in Brawley. The one to our left had boarded-up windows, a screen door that hung crooked from one hinge and notices taped to the front door. Its partner on the other side of the cul-de-sac didn't have paper tacked on the front door and there was no screen door to hide the battered entryway. The windows weren't boarded up, but the curtains were drawn from the inside. The front yard was a mess of gravel and weeds and an old motorcycle lay on its side in the heavily cracked driveway.

Lasko nodded toward the one that wasn't boarded up. “That's it.”

“
We need to be worried about knocking on his door?” I asked.

“
Probably,” he said with a short laugh. “He's a piece of shit, by every account.”

I opened the car door. “Great.”

The air was warm, almost humid, thick with desert heat. The breeze kicked up and an old, fast food bag drifted through the cul-de-sac. Our feet crunched on the gravel covered asphalt as we crossed the street and went up the walk to the door. A television blared from inside.

“
Hang back and cover,” I said to Lasko. “I'll knock.”

Lasko nodded and shifted to the opposite side of the walk, just outside of view from anyone who might open the door.

I knocked twice on the door and took a step back.

The volume died inside and footsteps shuffled behind the door for a moment before it opened.

A guy in an Oakland Raiders T-shirt and long denim shorts squinted at me. He was taller than me, well-built, maybe a little younger. His hair was buzzed short, but there was a scar on his forehead that gave the buzz a weird part just left of center. Almond-shaped eyes that almost looked like they were of Asian descent. A short, fat nose. Skin the color of coffee with too much creamer in it.

“
What?” he asked

“
Are you Mosaic Farvar?” I asked.

He leaned against the doorframe, more amused than bothered. “Yeah. Who the fuck are you?”

“My name's Joe,” I said, then pointed my thumb over my shoulder. “This is Paul. We wanna talk to you about a girl that went missing a few years ago.”

He lifted his fingers to his mouth. They were covered in what looked like barbecue sauce and he sucked hard on the index finger, examined the now clean finger, then looked at me. “I don't know anything about no missing girl.”

“We'd still like to talk to you.”

He sucked on the pinky finger and laughed as he did it. “Man, I don't have to talk to no cops.”

“I'm not a cop,” I said.

He squinted harder at me. “You're something.” He lifted his chin in Lasko's direction. “So's he. You both stink like cops.”

“Used to be,” I said. “I'm not anymore.”

He nodded, like he was expecting that answer. “Can't wash the stink off of ya, even if you're telling the truth.”

“You don't like cops?” I asked.

“
Made my life nothing but shit, dude,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Fuck 'em.”

I felt Lasko just behind me, but I figured he wouldn't react. It wasn't anything either of us hadn't heard before. 

“A girl in San Diego,” I said. “Taken from a front yard in Coronado.”

He examined his fingers again. “And why exactly are you knocking on my fucking door?”

“Because your name was the only one that kept popping up when I asked about missing kids,” Lasko said from behind me. “And I'm betting if I make a few more calls, I can find out you're on probation and probably violating it in at least three different ways. So knock off the bullshit.”

Farver stared at him for a moment, then grinned, shaking his head. He swept his hand dramatically into the house. “Right this way, gentlemen.”

I stepped past him into a small living room that smelled like body odor and french fries. The wide screen TV on the wall was on mute, talking heads moving their mouths next to a football field. There were two large paper cups from McDonald's on the glass coffee table, one ringed with water, as if it had been sitting there awhile. CDs were scattered on the floor beneath the TV, along with video games to plug into the player beneath the TV. The remotes were strewn across the worn gray carpeting.

Farver walked over and sat down on the black leather sofa. He didn't offer us a seat.

“So talk,” he said. “Ask what you wanna ask.” He smiled at Lasko. “So I don't get in trouble and shit.”

“
Little less than a decade ago, a girl was taken from her home in Coronado,” I said. “You know where that is?”

He shrugged and I took that as a yes.

“From there, I'm not exactly sure what happened,” I continued. “Think she went to Arizona, where a woman then moved her to Minnesota.”

He stared at me, a blank expression in his weird eyes, then shrugged again. “Sucks for her, I guess.”

I looked at Lasko, standing across from me.

He nodded.

I took two steps forward, lifted my leg and jammed the bottom of my foot into Farver's chest. He flew back into the sofa, his mouth wide open, the air quickly exiting his lungs in a loud gasp.

“
It did suck for her,” I said, watching him. “So answer the fucking questions without your comments.”

His hands clutched at his chest and his eyes were shut tight with pain.

“She's been found,” I said. “She's back. But we're trying to figure out exactly what happened to her. And I wanna know what you know.”

He opened one eye and rocked back and forth, waiting for his breath to return. He glanced at Lasko.

Lasko smiled at him.

Farver finally dropped his hands from his chest and took a deep breath. “I don't talk for free.”

“We forgot our wallets,” Lasko said.

Farver looked at him, then me. “Kick me again, then. I don't care, man. You want shit from me, it's gonna cost you.”

“Do you know the girl we're talking about?” I asked.

He studied me for a long moment. “Probably.”

I looked at Lasko.

He nodded again, his mouth set in a thin, tight line.

I pulled my gun from my waistband, kicked the table out of the way and jammed the barrel against Farver's forehead. “Be more specific.”

“
You think that's really gonna scare me?” Farver asked. “Gimme a fucking break, bitch. You want information, you're gonna pay.”

I pressed the barrel harder into his head.

“You ain't gonna do shit,” Farver said. “One, your butt buddy over there is a cop and you're probably lying about not being one. So you ain't gonna shoot nobody. And, two. If you think I really know something about this kid and you drove out here to find me, then you must be smart enough to know that I can't talk with a fucking hole in my head.”

He was exactly right. I wasn't prepared to shoot him. I'd brought the gun out just to apply pressure, which he was either used to or unafraid of. Either way, he'd nailed the situation perfectly. But I also wasn't going to pay him. For anything. There was a difference between paying someone you thought you could trust for information and paying someone you had no idea about. I had no idea about Farver, but I didn't think I'd trust him for a second.

“Why are you so interested in this kid anyway?” Farver asked, still unaffected by the gun attached to his skull. “She yours? A friend's?” He pulled his hand up and examined his fingers again, like he was looking for more barbecue sauce. “Kids are a pain in the ass, you ask me.”

“
No one asked you,” Lasko said. His voice had an edge I hadn't heard before and I knew he was ready to kick Farver's teeth in.

“
What kind of name is Mosaic?” I asked. “Or is that just some bullshit name you gave yourself to sound important?”

“
My mama laid it on me,” he said, grinning. “Said it was because I was made of whole bunch of different good things. Or some shit like that.”

“
Your mama must've been blind,” I said.

“
Go fuck yourself, ex-cop,” Farver said. “And either shoot me or get the fuck out of here.”

I pulled the gun away and dropped it to my side.

“That's what I thought,” he said, nodding. “Couple of fucking pussies.”

Lasko's shoulders twitched.

“Next time I come back, it's gonna be different,” I said.

“
You ain't coming back,” Farver said, shaking his head. “You too busy looking for ghosts.”

“
I'll be back,” I said.

Farver cackled. “Now you sound like the Terminator. That's fucking funny.”

I nodded at Lasko and we headed for the door.

“
Most kids, they don't come back, you know,” Farver said.

I stopped and turned around. “I know.”

Farver stood. “So you're pretty fucking lucky if this is someone you know. That that girl came back. 'Cause most of the time?” He shrugged, a small, ugly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They don't come back.”

THIRTY TWO

“Sorry, I didn't call,” Elizabeth said. “I was tired.”

I was back home in Coronado. Lasko and I had driven back, mostly in silence, because there really wasn't much to say. Going to see Farvar had been a bust. I could've paid him, but I doubted he would've told me the truth. My gut told me he was involved somehow, but I didn't think he was going to admit anything. So Lasko dropped me off and I told him I'd call him the next day. I'd showered, more to wash the stench of Farvar's home off of me than for any other reason, and my phone was buzzing as I pulled my clothes on.

“That's okay,” I said, stretching out on the bed, happy to hear her voice. “I know it's been pretty tiring.”

“
Yeah,” she said. “It has.”

“
How was your day?” I asked. “What did you guys do?”

“
Was okay,” she answered. “Just kinda more of the same, I guess.”

“
What's more of the same?”

“
I packed up some more of my stuff. I think Mom made our plane reservations to come back, but I'm not sure when.”

It was the first time she'd referred to Lauren as Mom and it stopped me for a second. I wondered what caused it to happen, but I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

“Okay,” I said. “I'll get the info from her.”

“
What did you do today?” Elizabeth asked. “Did you run?”

Her question again stopped me. Because she was asking about me, what I did, like she had an interest in how I was spending my time.

“Yep, I went early,” I said. “Didn't sleep great, so I took off as soon as I got up. It was colder than usual. And I didn't have you to pace me.”

She laughed. “I just usually try to keep up.”

“Baloney. I just don't let you see how hard I'm breathing.”

“
Whatever.”

I smiled. It felt like a normal father-daughter conversation, one that I hadn't had in maybe forever.

“What else did you do?” she asked.

“
Just running around,” I lied. “Stuff I had to get done.”

“
Are you gonna get a job?”

For the third time in the conversation, she stopped me cold. I felt like I was talking to someone I'd never met.

“Uh, I'm not sure what I'm doing yet,” I said. “Why?”

“
I was just wondering. If you were gonna be traveling and stuff or whatever.”

“
No,” I said quickly. “Whatever I end up doing, I won't be traveling. I'll be staying home. I won't be leaving.”

“
Okay.”

I hesitated, then asked “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“
I don't know,” I said. “I just...I don't know.”

“
Yeah,” she said. “And...I...I don't know. I just would rather you were going to be around when we get back.”

The frustration and sting I'd felt at her not returning my text the previous night was replaced with my heart hammering against the inside of my chest and tears welling at the corners of my eyes. “I'll be here. I promise.”

“Okay,” she said. “Here's Mom.”

My breath caught while I waited for Lauren to come on the line.

I heard her muffled voice saying something and then she was there. “Hi.”

“
Hey.”

“
How are you?”

“
A bit overwhelmed.”

“
Yeah,” she said. “Hang on a sec.”

I waited and her voice disappeared into a tunnel again.

“Okay, sorry,” she said. “She was getting in the shower.”

“
That's alright.”

“
Yeah. Overwhelming,” she said, lowering her voice. “Like a new kid today.”

“
Why? What happened?”

“
I'm not exactly sure,” she said. “She woke up in a decent mood. I didn't. And she asked me what was wrong. So I just laid it out for her. Everything. How frustrated I was, how confused I was. I told her how hard it was when she was gone. I told her how we went to shit and how you basically gave up your entire life to look for her. I don't know.” She paused. “I just told her everything and I didn't filter it and I didn't worry about how she was going to react because I felt like she didn't care, anyway.”

I took a deep breath and wiped at my eyes.

“And she listened,” Lauren said. “She sat there and she didn't interrupt. She asked me what was wrong and I just didn't even think. I just told her everything that was on my mind. And I was crying when I was done, just a mess. And then she leaned over and hugged me and told me she was sorry.”

Lauren coughed and I knew she was crying.

She worked hard to clear her throat. “I told her none of it was her fault and that I was sorry that it was hard and probably a bunch of other things that didn't make any sense.” She paused. “And then I told her I was pregnant.”

I wasn't sure why, but I laughed. “You did? Why?”

Lauren laughed, too. “I don't know. I was just on a roll, I guess. She laughed, too.”

“
What did she say?”

“
I honestly don't even remember,” she said. “But she was happy. She was still hugging me. And then she was apologizing for getting angry with me about the Corzines and that it was just hard and she didn't really want to stay, but she felt like she was letting everyone down and she didn't want to do that. She just kind of let it all out and I just hugged her. And then we were okay.”

I wiped at my eyes again. It was as happy as I'd felt in a long, long time. Everything else fell away. It felt like we were a family.

“So she asked if she could call you tonight,” she said. “That's why she called.”

“
I was shocked to hear her voice.”

“
I thought you would be. And I heard what she was asking you.”

“
About staying?”

“
Yeah.”

She didn't say anything.

“I told her I didn't know what I was doing, Lauren, but that I'm not going anywhere.”

“
I figured,” she said. “By her reaction, I mean. She smiled.”

“
I hope that's okay.”

“
It is, Joe. It is.”

I still didn't know what that meant for us, but I was glad she was saying it was okay. I wasn't certain that we could put all of the pieces of our old life back together, but maybe there was a chance for a new life. A brand new start that would leave the past squarely in the past.

“And I don't mean to cut this short, but I'm absolutely exhausted,” Lauren said. “I forgot how tiring it is being pregnant.”

“
You feeling okay?”

“
Yeah, just tired,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. I'll get with the doctor when we get back and figure out where we're going.”

“
She said you made reservations?”

“
No, I was just looking at flights. But probably day after tomorrow,” she said. “I'll work on the flights in the morning and then let you know. But that gives her another day here tomorrow and we can ship back whatever she wants to ship.”

“
Okay.”

She paused for a moment. “Joe.”

“Yeah?”

“
I think we're gonna be okay.”

“
Me too.”

We said goodbye and hung up.

I plugged my phone into the charger on the counter and walked out front for a minute, needing some air. The evening breeze was weak, barely reaching the front yard from the ocean, but the salt hung heavy in the air. The yard still looked neat and trim after the work I'd done on it. I went and stood where Elizabeth had been standing the day she was taken.

I took a deep breath.

I was going to give myself two days.

Two days to find out what happened to her. And if I could, then I'd deal with it. I'd give myself whatever closure I could.

But after that?

I was going to let it go. For Elizabeth. For Lauren. And for me. I was going to leave that part of our lives behind. We had Elizabeth back. We were never going to be a family if I kept bringing the past into our current lives. We had to move forward in order to heal.

I took another deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ocean.

Two days.