“I’ll tell you what’s going on, yes.”
Still, she hesitated. Then, screwing up her courage, she handed me the name and number.
Terrance Syracuse.
The number was a West L.A. exchange.
I traded glances with Oliver. “You’re the lead.”
Oliver threw it back to me. “Help yourself, Decker.”
I looked at Ms. Manigan. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Of course.”
I took a deep breath and phoned. The man who answered was groggy and pissed. I explained the dilemma as succinctly as possible but he was still at sea, although now he was agitated.
“She’s not over there?” he asked me.
“No, sir, she’s not. We were hoping she was with you.”
“But she’s supposed to be over there. What’s going on? Who is this?”
“Hollywood Police,” I told him again. “I’m at the Fordham Center right now. I think we could sort this out more efficiently if we spoke in person.”
“First things first,” Syracuse demanded. “Where is Belinda?”
“Sir, what’s your address?”
“Something’s happened to her, hasn’t it?” His voice broke. “She told me she was going back early. She told me she had a ride.”
“Did she tell you who her ride was?”
“Just someone from the center. What is it? What happened?”
“Sir, we really need to come down and see you.”
“Oh my God.” A heavy sigh. “Oh Jesus, just tell me what happened!”
“Your address, sir?”
He yielded to pressure. He lived in Mar Vista, not too far from my house. It didn’t make sense to go to his place, only to go back to Koby’s to pick up my car, but I couldn’t keep the man waiting.
Another thirty minutes of riding with Oliver.
I gritted my teeth and pretended that we were one big, happy team.
?
The brother was stocky, bordering on fat, with gray hair and lots of it. He was my height, but since I was wearing four-inch heels, I was looking over the top of his head. He had on black sweats, open-back slippers on his feet.
It went down like this. Terrance Syracuse was a self-employed personal-injury lawyer and sometimes his work intruded upon his weekends. This was one of those times. He had several cases pending, and really hadn’t thought about hosting Belinda. But because his wife and two daughters were visiting his in-laws in Vermont, he decided to call her up. His wife was tolerant of his retarded sister, but lately his children were getting to that age where Belinda’s presence embarrassed them. As much as he loved his sister, he had no problem choosing his daughters’ needs over Belinda’s because he had grown up with the stigma of a disabled sister. He could deal with it now, he was comfortable with the situation, but he knew that adaptation took time. He didn’t want to force his kids into an artificial relationship that they weren’t equipped to deal with.
“I suppose that won’t be necessary now,” he said, sobbing.
Before he left for the office, he had set Belinda up in front of the TV and told her he’d be back in time to take her out for dinner. He’d done it many times before. Belinda was a good girl, and she obeyed the rules. As far as he knew, she never opened the door for strangers. One time, his wife’s sister had come to the house, but Belinda didn’t know her. His sister-in-law was irate, yelling and screaming, but Belinda held fast and refused to let her in. She wasn’t the type to go off on her own. She was retarded, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that in the outside world, there were people who’d take advantage of her.
“And you don’t know who took her back to the center?”
“No. But she insisted it was someone she knew. I had no reason to doubt her.”
“We can check phone records,” I told Scott.
“It had to have been someone familiar,” Syracuse insisted. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have gone.” He gnawed on a raw thumbnail. “What in the world was she doing in that area at that time of night?”
I said, “I don’t know, sir. She looked lost. I was about to pull over to help her when it happened.”
“This car…”
“Actually, it was an SUV.”
“Did it… Was it gunning for her?”
I refrained from sighing. “It’s anyone’s guess. It happened so fast, I didn’t get all the details. Maybe later… if I think about it, something new will come to me.” I bowed my head. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded, not daring to make eye contact.
Hayley said, “Did she know anyone else besides you who lived outside the Fordham Center?”
“She might have. My sister didn’t talk to me about her private life. And when she did… I didn’t listen too carefully. She was a typical teenage girl… only she was twenty-four. But she still had the teenybopper mentality-boy crazy, for one thing. Mostly movie stars. She talked about meeting them one day. She lived in a fantasy world and I zoned out half the time.” He started pacing. “This is too awful. I’m grateful that my parents aren’t alive to deal with this blow.” He regarded Cindy. “When can I bury her? The thought of her lying on a slab in cold storage is sickening.”
“We’ll let you know as soon as the ME is done.”
“What in the world is there to find out? She was massacred by some crazy or careless motorist. What will an autopsy tell you that you don’t already know?”
“It’s just procedure, sir,” Oliver told him.
He drew his hands down his face. “I have to start making funeral arrangements.” He checked his watch. “I don’t suppose anyone’s open at five in the morning.”
“You might have to wait a few hours.”
I said, “You won’t mind if we check your phone records?”
“Of course. Anything that would help. She’s been with the center over ten years. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”
“Has she been having any trouble with anyone there?”
“Not that I know about.”
“Has she talked about anyone specifically?”
“Like a boy or a man? No. Or if she did, I’m sorry to say I didn’t pay attention.” Again he checked his watch. “When can I make the identification?”
“How about if I take you down?” I offered. “See if we can speed up the process.”
“I’ll come with you,” Hayley stated.
“We can all go,” Oliver said.
“You have farther to travel to get home, sir,” I told him. “We can handle it, Detective.”
“We’ll all go,” Oliver insisted. “That way, it’ll be done by the book.”
I was in no position to argue.
Seniority had spoken.
By the timeTerrance had identified his sister and we were finally done, it was half past six. Hayley offered to buy us breakfast, but I was too nauseous to even think about eating. “Besides, I should see how Koby’s doing.”
Oliver’s shoulders tensed. “I’ll take you to his house after I drop off Marx.”
Hayley said, “I’ll take her, Scott. This is girl time, okay?”
That was Hayley to a T. It didn’t surprise me. She’d been there for me before. Oliver didn’t argue and the ride was wonderfully silent. We picked up Hayley’s car and made it to Koby’s by eight. My Lexus was right where I’d left it; his Toyota was nowhere in sight. I sighed. “I don’t think he’s home yet. He’s probably still at the hospital.”
“You aren’t going there, right?” Before I could answer, she said, “Cin, you need to go home and sleep.”
“You too.”
“No problem. I’m going home. You do the same. That’s an order.” We hugged. She said, “Breakfast on Wednesday?”
“How about Thursday?” I countered for no good reason.
“Thursday is perfect.”
I smiled, then got out of the car. After settling myself in my Lexus and placing the phone in the built-in recharge cradle, I put in a call to Koby’s cell.
I got his voice mail.
I left a brief message.