“Vic Maitlin.”
As in captain of the football team Vic Maitlin. As in senior class president Vic Maitlin. As in get the girls Vic Maitlin.
As in saved my life Vic Maitlin?
“When I divorced my first wife, she took back her maiden name and she registered him as Maitlin. His true name is still Fuentes.” Rick Fuentes stared at us with his piercing, emerald eyes. “Where is my son?”
“Honest to Christ, we don’t know.” I looked at James and shrugged my shoulders, doing my absolute best to remain calm. “Mr. Fuentes, we could have gone to the police. Instead, we came straight to you, sir. We have the rest of your mail in the truck outside. There is absolutely nothing we want from you. Please, believe me. If we had an agenda, we would have told you by now.” I shuddered. There was only one Vic Maitlin. This was no mistake. The young boy who’d saved my life. And I swear to you I have never, ever mentioned this to anyone. Not to my mother, James, or Em. I had a hard time catching my breath.
He buried his head in his hands, a tremor shaking his body. When he raised his face again, he appeared at ease. His blond mistress walked into the room and put her hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. She looked all of nineteen years old, a petite little girl dressed in gray sweats.
“You know Vic?”
James tore his eyes from the blond. “Of course. We weren’t really close, but sure, we knew him. Everyone knew Vic.”
Fuentes smiled softly. “You haven’t kidnapped him? You have no idea where he is?”
“None.”
“I want him back home.” He looked over his shoulder at the girl, probably four or five years younger than his son. “ W e want him back.”
She nodded.
Vic Maitlin. I couldn’t get past the name. Jesus, my worst memory. My best memory. I wouldn’t be standing in front of the father if it weren’t for the son.
“Help me find him.”
“What?” I didn’t think I’d heard what I heard.
“Help me find him. I have an idea where he is. I need corroboration. That’s all.”
“Mr. Fuentes, we’re not in the missing person business.” I shook my head emphatically, realizing that I had the chance to finally pay Vic back. But it made no sense. I wasn’t the hero. Vic was.
“There will be no danger.”
“You’ve got a finger that tells me otherwise.”
He frowned. “All I need is for you to verify his location. It should take a couple of days. How much would that be worth to you?”
“Five thousand dollars.” James leaned forward, his eyes on fire.
“No. Mr. Fuentes, we have jobs. We’re not available.” I pushed my chair back and stood up. Everything told me to say no. But I owed this Vic Maitlin. Still, I held back.
“Five thousand dollars!” James stood too, and glared at me. “Mr. Fuentes, we’ll give you your corroboration. For five grand.”
“Half now, and half when you find him.”
It was like a movie. It was happening on the big screen, and even though I was involved I was powerless to stop it.
“Why us? You don’t even know us. Two minutes ago you thought we were responsible for your son’s abduction. Now you’re willing to pay us to find him?”
Fuentes grabbed the hand of his girlfriend and squeezed it. “I have no one I can trust.”
“Well, you can’t trust us. You know nothing about us.” I prayed he’d take back the offer. I wasn’t the person his son was. I didn’t put myself out on a limb.
“If I’ve made a mistake, I’ll know it in a very short time. I want my son back, at any cost. Find him, and I’ll pay you more than the five thousand dollars.”
Sinking back into my chair, I felt weak.
“Tell us where you think he is, Mr. Fuentes. We’ll start immediately.” James was on fire.
“He’s with an international group of businessmen.”
“Spanish?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He paused. “Cuban.”
James looked at me, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Em told me.”
“You knew about this?”
I took a deep breath. I knew nothing, and I knew everything. I knew that we’d gone way too far already. I knew that the damned box truck just might be the death of us.
“I know this is a mistake.”
Fuentes picked up the revolver, never pointing it, but balancing it in his right hand. “Mr. Moore, I’m willing to pay you for this service.” His Cuban accent had a regal, formal air to it. “The two of you and Cynthia and I are the only ones who know about this. I have no one else to turn to. I’m afraid I must insist that you do me this favor. If you don’t, a missing finger may be a minor inconvenience.”
James seemed hypnotized by the pistol. Rick Fuentes kept his eyes on mine. I was the one he had to convince. He was doing a very good job of it.
“I’m going to tell you where I think he is. Confirm that for me. I would like an answer in twenty-four hours. After that, I’ll send someone to look for you. Understood?”
I nodded. James nodded.
He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled an address on a napkin, pushing it over to James. Cautiously, James picked it up and held it gingerly.
“Cynthia.” It was the first time he’d addressed her. She left the table and returned with a checkbook. Fuentes tore out a pale blue check and penned in the amount, signing with a flourish. He pushed that over to James as well.
We walked out of the condo, Fuentes still sitting at the table, the blond rubbing his shoulders. The last thing I saw was Rick Fuentes, tapping the barrel of the gun on the table. His eyes were like a cat’s, calculating and cunning. We had his money and we had his address. I had a debt to repay. We had no choice.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WE WERE THIRTEEN. James and I, Em and Vic. Twelve or thirteen, and it was a school field trip. You remember field trips. Sometimes they were to the zoo or maybe an aquarium or one time to the Miami River. And we were always paired up with a buddy. I was paired up with Vic, and even though we weren’t close, I was excited about the pairing. Vic was playing junior high basketball and was already the star athlete of the seventh grade. His dark features, athletic prowess, and quick smile made him a candidate for most popular kid in the entire school.
Teachers loved his wit and intellect. Girls loved his looks, personality, and gentle nature and they weren’t even sure why. Guys found him to be easy to be around, with a self-effacing nature and a natural humor. There was nothing not to like about Vic Maitlin, except for two guys he palled around with. Justin Cramer and Mike Stowe. Mean, nasty, and full of themselves, these two guys made the school bullies look like choirboys. Vic distanced himself from their antics but hung with them just the same.
This field trip, Vic Maitlin was my buddy. He accepted the role with ease and grace and we acted like we’d been best friends since first grade.
And after the incident at the sinkhole, with Cramer and Stowe, Vic told me to keep everything to myself. He swore me to secrecy, for my entire life, and even though it was a childhood promise, it stuck with me. I never had any intention of going back on my word, and if his life hadn’t been in danger, I would have taken the secret to my grave. But Vic was in trouble, serious trouble, and it was time to repay my debt.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“ALL THE REST OF HIS STUFF is in the truck. Should we go back and-” James pointed back at the high-rise.
“Jesus.” I stared at the back end of the truck. We’d gotten so wrapped up in the finger that we’d forgotten the rest of the mail. I gazed back at the condo. We’d be back to report, and frankly I’d had enough of Rick Fuentes and his gun for one night. “Nah. It’s late and we’ve pretty much used up our half hour. We’ll bring it back when we give him our report.”
“You didn’t sound too sure about this job.”
“I’m not.” It was hard not to tell my story. “Man, we could get our asses shot off. Or fingers hacked off. This could be dangerous.”