“Not... exactly,” she said. “It was because of Stuart. And her connection.”
“Because she knew him,” I said. “Because Stuart’s dad works with Vince.”
“Yeah. I’d seen Stuart around school and all, but it was Jane who actually introduced us.”
“When was this?”
“Like, a few weeks ago? We were in the food court, and she saw him and called him over, and we all got talking. And after that, Stuart texted me and we hung out.”
“Did you know that Stuart was connected to Vince Fleming? That his father is Eldon Koch? That he works for Vince?”
“Yeah, I knew that.”
“You knew that, and you went out with him? This kid whose father is some kind of fucking gangster? You know he kidnapped me off the street back when all that stuff happened?”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“But he also helped you, right? If it hadn’t been for him helping you figure out what happened, I’d be dead, right? And Mom, too? Not bad for a fucking gangster.”
I had no comeback for that.
“That’s the stuff I found out from Jane. Maybe if you guys would tell me something once in a while, I’d have known.”
“You should never—”
I stopped myself. I was letting things get out of hand. Now I was the one losing control. Of the situation, and myself.
“You’re always about not prejudging people,” Grace said.
“What?”
“Just because someone’s dad is bad doesn’t have to mean the kid’s bad.”
I looked at her, dumbfounded. “Stuart broke into a house so he could steal a car. Who’s prejudging? The kid already proved himself to be bad news. Just like his father.”
Grace got up, ran upstairs to her room, and slammed the door hard enough the house shook.
Hard enough that it shook something free that I’d been thinking about without actually realizing I’d been thinking about it.
For all he knows, she saw him.
This person who ran past, who may have shot and killed Stuart.
Did he know Grace failed to get a good look at him?
If he believed Grace had seen him, that she could identify him...
We might have more to worry about than the police finding out Grace was in that house.
Twenty-eight
“Hey,” Vince said as Jane Scavullo let herself in. He’d heard her coming up the stairs and was expecting her.
“Hi,” she said tiredly. She stood by the door.
“Come in,” he said.
“I’m fine here.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, come in and sit down.”
Jane advanced into the room and sat in the chair Terry had been in moments earlier.
“So what’d she say? She see anything?” Vince asked. “No, wait. Hold that thought. I gotta empty this thing before I blow up.” He went into the bathroom, closed the door.
Jane closed her eyes for a moment, laid her hands down on the table to rest them. Her father emerged a couple of minutes later, wiping his hands on his shirt to dry them, and took a seat opposite the young woman.
“So?”
“She wasn’t much help.”
“Shit. She must have noticed something.”
Jane recounted her conversation with Grace as close to word for word as she could.
“So we know nothing about this guy,” Vince said. “Not one goddamn thing.” Jane said nothing. “That’s just great. Did she say whether they were there for anything other than the car?”
Jane shook her head. “Like what?”
“Did she or didn’t she?”
“She didn’t. Stuart broke in to get the Porsche keys. If he was there for anything else, Grace doesn’t seem to know about it.”
“So they didn’t go upstairs?”
“I told you what she said.”
“Whoever else was in there didn’t have to bust in,” Vince said.
“You asking me?”
“I’m thinking out loud. Stuart broke a window, the dumb shit. But the alarm system was already off. So it could have been someone who had a key, who knew how to disarm the security system.”
“Maybe the owners have someone who checks the house for them. So they have a key, know the code.” She said it as if it was obvious.
Vince thought about that. “But if it was someone there with their blessing, why was he creeping around with the lights off?”
Jane shrugged. “I don’t know, Vince. It’s late.” She cocked her head to one side, eyeing him critically. “You’re so worried about them getting into that house and how somebody else got into the house and what they were looking for, blah blah blah, but are you even this much concerned about Stuart?” She held her thumb and index finger a fraction of an inch apart.
“Of course I am.”
“Does Eldon even know yet?”
“No.”
“When you going to tell him?”
Vince strummed his fingers on the table. “When the time is right. I got a few questions for him first.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jane said. “Before you tell him about his kid, you’re going to grill him?”
“Yeah. Like how’d Stuart know to pick that house? Eldon must have got sloppy and let him see the list.”
“What list? Why are you so freaked-out about that house anyway?”
“Never mind. The fact Stuart was there goes right back to Eldon. He fucked up. Something about this is just not right.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe Eldon was there. In the house. He was late for our meet tonight.”
Jane put her fingertips to her forehead, looked downward. “Vince, really, are you saying Eldon shot his own kid?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know what happened. Maybe Eldon was there, and didn’t tell his kid, and they surprised each other.”
“This is crazy talk,” Jane said.
“Maybe Eldon was ripping me off,” Vince said, more to himself than to Jane.
“How the hell could Eldon have been ripping you off? He wasn’t in your house. He was in somebody else’s house. So Eldon could shoot his own kid, then show up for this meet you had? That’s what you’re saying? Does Eldon strike you as someone who could pull that off?”
“I’m gonna find out. I guarantee it.”
Jane pushed back her chair and stood. “Well, good luck with that.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Vince said to her back. She stopped without turning around. “I just want to... I want to thank you for the heads-up. Grace calling you and then you letting me know, I want you to know, you did the right thing.”
“What else was I going to do?” she said, facing him now.
“I know, but still. I get that you’re pissed, being dragged into this. I don’t like you getting mixed up in my business, but this was different. I figured Grace’d tell you more than she’d tell me.”
“You don’t want me involved in your business?” Jane countered. “Since when? You think somehow I haven’t always been involved? Come on. You were living with my mother. Then you guys got married. I was living under your roof. So maybe you didn’t have me ripping off a shipment of iPads, but you think I wasn’t involved? Every time my mom got a phone call, her heart was in her mouth, worried you were dead or in jail. Someone came knockin’ at the door, I figured maybe it was the cops, or someone standing there with a gun, looking to blow your brains out. So don’t be all sorry about my having to take Grace’s call, because that was nothing compared to the kind of stuff I lived with for years.”
Vince went to say something, but no words came out.
“I gotta go. It’s late.”
Vince took a step toward her. “Jane.”