Blind to Sin Read online

  Adrik flared his nostrils. He threw some money onto the bar and stood up from his stool.

  “That is what I want to hear.”

  He left Donne there, staring at a blank television screen. Donne wanted to run, track down Jeanne and start over again. Their own fractured little family. If she would have him.

  What was wrong with him? It would never work. And he didn’t even know where to start looking.

  Meanwhile, Kenneth had gotten him through so much. He wouldn’t be alive without the old man’s help.

  Donne closed out the tab as the bartender picked up Adrik’s cash.

  Two hours later, he was in the hotel room Kenneth had booked. And his boss had given him an assignment for the following morning.

  THE MOVING truck rumbled along Route 78. It was early, before the rush hour, a time Cole had gotten used to. Of course, it was Sunday, so even rush hour wasn’t a problem. The sun was just starting to peek out of the horizon behind them, squeezing between the buildings of the Newark skyline. He checked the news headlines quickly via his phone.

  Haskins’ eyes were on the road in front of them. Cole would have preferred Manuel drive, but he was on assignment.

  Tammy had been sleeping in between them, head resting on Cole’s arm. But they’d hit a few bumps in a row, and she’d opened her eyes. Tammy yawned and stretched her arms as much as she could considering she was stuck in the middle of a small truck cab.

  Haskins gave her a quick look. “You should really try to sleep some more. You need your rest.”

  Tammy gave him a quick look and then turned to Cole. The butterflies he felt whenever she looked at him were long gone now. Instead, he just felt exhaustion. He needed the finish line to be near. The two of them together on a beautiful beach.

  “Do you remember the picture?” he asked her.

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  “That afternoon, did you ever think we’d be here? You and me?”

  The smile left her face. “No. I didn’t think I’d ever get sick like this. Cigarettes do you in. And no. I thought our last job would be with Kenneth.”

  Cole wiped his nose. “I saved you that day.”

  “You also took me away from Matt.”

  “He’s back now.”

  “And you’re taking me from him again.”

  The world sped by them at seventy miles per hour. Haskins was going just fast enough to get to their new place this century, but also slow enough that the cops wouldn’t pull them over. The sides of the highway were lined with trees, and mountains peaked over the sides of the road. The radio signal kept going in and out.

  This was the part of New Jersey no one ever talked about. Cole loved coming to this house. It was quiet, secluded. A little piece of Kansas or West Virginia only an hour away.

  “I’m trying to save you,” he said.

  Tammy rubbed her forearms as if she were cold. “That picture always bothered you, didn’t it?”

  Cole took out his phone again. This time he looked at his bank statements. Just a quick peek. He smiled.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because no one ever knew it was you. Wasn’t that always the problem? You drove the car. You planned the score. But it was never you.”

  Cole’s heart rate picked up. Sweat formed on his brow, but he didn’t wipe at it. He felt Haskins glance in his direction but ignored it.

  “I did my job. Back then, that day. My goal was to get the money and make sure you were safe.”

  “What about Kenneth? What about Matt?”

  “They were both fine. It took a while, but we saved Kenneth too.”

  “Didn’t you like being unknown the past ten years? You could walk anywhere. You plucked Manuel out of a gang and got him on his feet. You went to see Kenneth monthly and no one batted an eye. You made friends with the warden.”

  Cole sniffled. “Fred Aguilera isn’t exactly Jesus Christ. He’s no saint. He and I have worked—you know what, you don’t need to know that stuff. Neil is right, you need to rest.”

  “No. I want to keep talking.”

  Cole shifted in his seat. “Fine.”

  “When Kenneth was away, when you went to see him, did you rub it in?”

  Cole thought about the first visit, when he told him that Tammy and he had gotten married by some Kansas judge a year earlier. It didn’t matter that it was probably illegal. Everything they did was illegal. All that mattered was Tammy’s gaze wasn’t on Kenneth anymore. She didn’t think about him as much.

  “I took care of you,” he said. “I’m doing that now too.”

  “Shit,” Haskins said.

  Cole looked at him. He was looking in the side mirror.

  “State cop just pulled out. He’s behind us.”

  “We’ll continue this later if you want, Tammy,” Cole said.

  Tammy grinned. “Maybe.”

  Haskins took his foot off the gas, and Cole felt the deceleration in his body. He watched the speedometer slow to sixty.

  “If he got you, slowing down won’t help,” Cole said. His old heart couldn’t take this shit. Plotting a heist? Sure. But the cops on his tail brought back too many memories.

  “If I slow down, he’ll be forced to pass me. At least then we’ll know if he’s after us.”

  Cole nodded, but refused to say, “Smart move.” Haskins didn’t need any more credit. He was already doing enough.

  The state cop hung behind them for a tenth of a mile. Then he quickly threw the car’s left blinker on, changed lanes and accelerated. As the cop passed, he looked out his passenger window, staring up at the U-Haul. Haskins exhaled.

  “You used to deal with this all the time?”

  Tammy said, “He ran in between the cops and my ex-husband to save my life. And they didn’t even get his face on camera.”

  Haskins shook his head. “I can’t handle that.”

  “Elliot always loves a headline.”

  Cole couldn’t argue with that. “What good’s a headline if they don’t know your name?”

  Haskins said, “If they don’t know your name, the chances are better that you’ll get to live.”

  Instead of cursing Haskins out for the logic, Cole went back to his phone. Tammy knew him all too well.

  “WHAT HAPPENED to you?”

  Herrick had barely made coffee the next morning when Mack was at the door. Sarah had gone to get bagels and would be back any minute. Herrick stepped out of the way and let Mack in.

  He offered him a cup of Joe, but Mack shook him off.

  “No one calls it Joe anymore.”

  “My girlfriend went to get bagels, if you want.”

  Mack shook him off again. “Stop offering me stuff and tell me where the hell you went yesterday.”

  Herrick went over his rules again. Secrets got you in trouble. “My dad and Donne, they showed up. Dragged me down to the PATH station.”

  “God damn it. I was right here. Your girl wouldn’t buzz me up. You should have told me.”

  Herrick turned back to the coffee and mixed his with cream and sugar. He breathed through his nose. Mack was right. There was an opportunity to learn more about what was going on, and having an officer there could have coerced his dad to talk. Or it could have gotten him to run.

  “I hadn’t seen my father in ten years. I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he said.

  Mack nodded.

  “Are you even supposed to be on this case anymore?” Herrick drank coffee.

  Mack arched an eyebrow. “You’ve never had something catch your interest? Maybe a hobby?”

  Herrick walked over to the couch and took a seat. “So this is all off the books?”

  Mack leaned on the counter top. Herrick tried to figure out when Sarah would come in, and he’d have to explain who this guy was. Not that it was a big deal, but he didn’t really want Mack here. Too much other crap swirling around in his mind. He was going to go talk to Elliot Cole again today.

  And see his mom. Mack didn’t need to
know that.

  He shouldn’t be privy to all this family drama.

  “I don’t want to create too much smoke. Other people will wonder where the fire is. Could bring some undue attention on me from the top. These guys took money to let Donne and your dad out. That’s big time suspicious.”

  “What do you want from me at this point?”

  Mack crossed his arms. It felt like they’d had this conversation before, and he was showing it to Herrick.

  “Why did someone want your dad out of jail so badly?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Herrick took out his phone and texted Sarah that Mack was there. Then he said, “I talked to Adrik Vavilov. I talked to Elliot Cole. I didn’t get any information. I have a job to do at school and real cases to work. I haven’t talked to my dad in ten years. I can’t be doing you a favor. Otherwise, I can’t pay for this apartment.”

  Mack spread his hands. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, but you and I both know this smells sour.”

  Herrick shrugged. “I can’t do this for you. My dad—he’s not my family. Not anymore.”

  “You just saw him yesterday.”

  “Not anymore.” The meaning was clear from his tone.

  Mack exhaled. “You hear anything, you call me.”

  Herrick sipped coffee.

  Mack left. Herrick felt the tension in his shoulders return.

  HERRICK DROVE down a street in Paterson, past several other row houses, until he found the one Manuel had dragged him out of. He parked, grabbed the ASP nightstick out of his glove compartment and took a deep breath. Seeing his mother again. Life wasn’t supposed to sneak up on you like this, even though—for Herrick—it often did.

  He stood on the sidewalk, the ASP bopping off his hip, clearly visible. If a cop were to pull up to him now, that would be a big time problem. ASPs, retractable nightsticks, were illegal in New Jersey, but for a private investigator who hated guns, they were invaluable. When you hit someone with it, it hurt like hell. They stayed down.

  Usually.

  After five steps to the front door, Herrick knocked. The knock sounded hollow, as if there was only the void behind the door. Herrick knocked again, and this time the door swung inward. Herrick pulled the ASP from its holster and with a snap of his wrist had it extended to its full length. The hallway was empty, not even a dust mote.

  Herrick stepped inside and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Without thinking, his muscles coiled, released and sent him in a sprint down the hallway. He hung a right into the room where his mother had been only to find it vacant. The entire house was empty like an abandoned house on a realtor’s list.

  The wind went out of Herrick and he sat down. It was an odd sensation being both disappointed and finally feeling human again at the same time. Herrick hadn’t realized how much seeing his mother again was weighing on him. There’d been times over the last ten years, mainly when he was in the sandbox, when he dreamt about reuniting with her.

  In his mind’s eye, she was always healthy and strong. The Bonnie to his father’s Clyde, including the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. Seeing her sleeping, looking like she’d stopped eating months ago, shook him. And now that she wasn’t here—was she dead?—was both a relief and a disappointment. He didn’t have to face her, but he wouldn’t know how she was.

  Herrick forced himself up and did a quick sweep of the house. The rooms were immaculate. Picked clean, swept and vacuumed. If not for the lack of smell, he would have suspected it was even re-painted. The question now, why did Elliot Cole leave? Too many people had been in this room. Donne, his dad and himself. Maybe Cole needed to keep moving. He stood in the kitchen staring at the spotless oven, pondering possibilities.

  “Thought he’d be out of here.”

  Herrick whirled and raised the ASP, only to find his dad standing in the doorway. As quickly as it had gone, the fist clutching his insides returned.

  Kenneth Herrick had his hands up, and was grinning.

  “Easy, son.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Kenneth shrugged. “Knew you’d come here eventually.”

  “I’ve already been.”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard. Elliot gave you some good advice.”

  Herrick worked his jaw. “I don’t want to see you.”

  Kenneth nodded. “I know, but I need you.”

  “For what?”

  “To save Mom.”

  Herrick’s heart thumped hard in his chest, struggling to break from of the fist crushing him. The sensation was familiar, but one he had rarely felt since he got back from the sandbox. Since he worked everything out with his therapist—whom he hadn’t seen in five years.

  Might be time to go back.

  “What do you mean save Mom?”

  “It’s the reason I’m out. And I need your help.”

  Herrick shook his head. “You have Jackson.”

  “Not enough.”

  Herrick wished there was a chair in the room. He retracted the ASP and put it back in his holster.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How are you going to save her?”

  “What am I good at, Matt? The only thing I’m good at. The thing that makes me really damn happy?”

  Herrick opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Kenneth held up a hand. The silence hung in the air like clothes on a drying line. Herrick tried to breathe through the anxiety, each exhale pushing a little bit out of his system. He didn’t want to hear his father explain himself, but he still had to know.

  Kenneth took a step forward and pointed at the holster. “I’m glad you put that away.”

  His dad didn’t look as old as Mom did. He was virile and healthy, cut and chiseled. All those hours working out in a prison yard must have done wonders for his physique. Yes, there were gray hairs and wrinkles on his face, but it was still the dad he remembered. The guy he told his friends could beat up anyone when he was hanging out in the school yard.

  “I’m going to leave,” Kenneth said. “But I want you to think over what I said. We can save your mother. You, Jackson and me. We can do it. But I need your help. I need you.”

  “You’re a thief.”

  Kenneth shrugged again.

  “You think I’m going to risk my reputation for you?”

  Kenneth said, “I think you’ll risk it to help your mother. We don’t have much time. I’ll be in touch.”

  He turned and sauntered out of the room. A few seconds later, Herrick heard the front door open and shut. He leaned against the counter and caught his breath. He literally had ten minutes of feeling like himself. Now there were pins and needles, pressure in his chest and air didn’t feel like it was making it all the way to his lungs.

  That was okay. He could deal with it until it passed. But he was going to be running his father’s words over in his head for the rest of the night.

  He pulled out his cell phone and texted Sarah he was coming home.

  Sunday Funday my ass, he thought.

  HERRICK FROZE at the door.

  He missed something. He must have. No one could leave a room completely empty, let alone a townhouse. Standing in the doorway, Herrick felt the breeze from the street pour over him and into the hallway. He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths.

  Refocus and find what you’re missing. Everything, even something minor, could be a clue. He turned back to the hallway and tried to slow down. It wasn’t about the motes or the shiny floor. It was about what wasn’t there, what was unusual about this room.

  Times like these, it was good to go back to the sandbox. When he was in Afghanistan, out on a convoy, sweeping the road for an IED, everything that seemed out of place was considered out of place. It deserved an extensive investigation, even if it would delay the convoy an hour or more.

  Another deep breath.

  So, what in a completely empty building was out of place? Answer: the fact that it was completely empty. Tha
t was impossible. Something was always left behind, even a scrap of paper. A crumb. Something that could help him track down Cole. Something left behind.

  He started with the ceiling—drywall and smooth. Nothing stood out there. He walked the entire row house, staring at the ceiling like some deranged Brian Wilson impersonator.

  Nothing.

  What goes up, however, must come down. So he tried the floorboards, spending the next fifteen minutes staring at the hardwood beneath his feet. Scanning back and forth. His eyes were expecting to come up empty, but his gut said otherwise.

  And then he entered his mom’s room, and caught the molding on the floor, pulled apart from the wall just a hair. If he hadn’t been so focused, looking for anything in disarray, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Herrick kneeled down and pulled the piece of wood away from the wall a hair more. Behind it was a piece of paper, the size of a receipt. There was handwriting on it.

  Herrick stared at the words.

  Matt, Kenneth, Whomever:

  I have heard Vernon Valley is nice this time of year. Though not as nice as Long Valley. Maybe you would want to look at both.

  Mom/Tammy.

  Herrick’s breath caught at the back of his throat, but the fist in his chest did not pull tighter.

  This was a clue.

  He didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out.

  COLE STARED across the table at Kenneth Herrick. The rabble in McDonald’s as people filled up on breakfast would be enough to cover their conversation. The Egg McMuffin was still wrapped in paper in front of him. Kenneth fiddled with a hash brown.

  “A lot has changed in the past ten years, it seems like. But damn, these are still the same,” he said.

  “Yeah, the food is still terrible for you.”

  The corner of Kenneth’s lip crooked upward. He exhaled. “You took her from me.”

  Cole sat back and looked over Kenneth. The scrawny kid from Seton Hall Prep who used to love to steal thumb tacks from the nuns when they weren’t looking. Such a minor crime, and it was hilarious when they found all the volleyballs popped in the gym. No one ever knew it was Kenneth. Anything to play more basketball.