Chapter 15
Itsmeocean@hotmail.com
Homecoming
"Are you sure he's not staying here? He brought me here before. I really need to see him… please…"
The blond man sniggered violently from where he was hiding out of the security guard's sight. Muscled back against concrete wall, Joe sucked in his stomach as if he was trying to flatten himself into one flat pasta so he could observe the play, "When Snubbed Blondie Meet Fat Sweaty Guy" from a closer distance and still remain unseen. He would have felt deep pity for the pug-nosed man if he wasn't feeling so self-servingly gleeful at the distress on the poor guy's folded mien and how Callie Shaw had to pretend to keep the guy hooked on her while wrestling his pawing, fleshy palms away.
"Oh… here dearie…" The security decided to grope a feel of Callie's slinky shoulders by feigning sensitivity. Callie subtly backed a step away and honked her nose loudly into her paper napkin before rummaging in her bag for one more as she sputtered words of a spurn lover.
"I can't believe it… he's lying… to me… all this time…"
"If he dare touch her one more time, I'm going to hack those fat hands off." Frank barked raucously, extremely displeased by the necessary role that Callie had decided to play- the weak, helpless damsel in distress looking for a strong shoulder to cry on. Joe's mirth melted away- it was only a little sacrifice for Hallie's safety, not as if the guard was taking advantage…
Wait. He is. Thanks, Callie. I'll make it up to you.
"Here it comes…" Joe controlled his voice to a flat whisper as his stomach churned from those instantaneous changes of varied emotions. "She will run out of tissues. Elle spotted a box of Kleenex at the lower shelf of the counter."
"I ran out of tissues. Do you have one to spare?" Callie whined helplessly. Now, she was a little over-the-top in his opinion. If she wasn't pretty, she would be gratingly annoying.
"Of course, sweetie…hang on…"
"Sweetie, dearie," His brother mimicked the guard caustically. "He's tempting me to rip his tongue! How on Earth did I even agree to this crazy scheme?"
"Gee, I don't know. You nod your head and exclaimed 'Brilliant!' when your fiancée came out with it?"
"After consulting Elle." Frank seethed, "My brains must have turned into mush then!"
"Shh! He's bending down. Now!"
The two brothers stealthily crept sideways towards the entrance when Joe spotted the guard's head bobbed up, a box in those stumpy hands. Slamming back against the wall, Joe growled in frustration and Frank laid a calming hand on his shoulder.
Think of something, Callie…something that will give us more time to cross the damn distance!
"Can you please check the database again? He must be here... he must be…" Her pleas squeaked down to desperate whimpers. Joe felt his lips twitched again with an insuppressible, sardonic sneer which chased the sinking feeling of initial failure away.
"Of course I can. Lemme see…"
Stealing a glance in from the corner of his eyes, Joe saw the guard banging away on the console with beady eyes fixed on the screen. The younger detective knew that this ruse would not give them the needed time and his mind rushed for ideas when Frank whispered urgently into his ears.
"Earrings!"
That's it!
Joe crept quickly towards the entrance where he would be in stark, open view for all to shoot at and waved wildly to get Callie's attention. Acting on some intuition, she turned to her side and he quickly tugged at one of his earrings. Callie nodded, unscrewed her left ear's stud and flung it behind the guard. Joe hurriedly flung himself back against the wall again and continued watching the show from his position.
"Nothing's going right!" Callie shrilled piercingly. "I dropped my earring now. Can you help me find it? It fell behind the counter…" She leaned over and pointed confusingly at random spots behind the counter to baffle the guard. Joe wished she didn't have to do that but it worked for the guard slanted his gleaming eyes at her deepened cleavage before grinning like a shark about to feast on its prey.
"Of course. Where it is?" From his distracted tone and too bright eyes, Joe knew the guard could care less about Callie's ear stud.
"Behind…you'll have crawl down and look for it." Callie helpfully directed the guard in a louder voice, probably having the idea that if she did not do that, his eyes would pop out from staring too much. Joe decided that it was better if he didn't tell Frank who couldn't see the going-on as he was blocked by Joe's body about the guard's repulsive glimpses at Callie like he was undressing her in his mind.
"Now!" Joe ordered harshly when the guard bent down and waved for his brother to follow. Like two furtive, muscled ghosts, they flew quietly through the entrance, across the distance and slipped pass the door leading to fire-escape staircase so dangerously close to the security counter. Joe's track shoes almost skidded against the smooth marble tiles and but thankfully, before the tell-tale squeaking sound of a rubber-soled intruder echoed through the posh lobby, he managed to, with his brother, stepped into the safety of the stairs landing.
"She's really something, should try out for Hollywood. A little polishing and she'll be a mega A-lister. You can even quit this job and live off her!" Joe sneaked a sly look over his shoulder Frank as they rushed up the staircase. "Are you sure she didn't trick you with her innate thespian abilities to get you to propose? Women can be so crafty."
Frank smiled grimly, still looking riled by the sleazy guard. When Elle said he had an eye for pretty things, she didn't tell them about those wandering hands. Joe felt sorry for Frank and Callie and sick of himself. In his restless sleep for the past two nights, those sketchy nightmares dredged up the reason for Hallie's disappearance from the hassled cells and mangled nerves of his brains- whatever the logic behind, it sounded most true to his ears.
Hallie disappeared because he was a lousy father. Period. And because of his incompetence, the people who cared about him had to make sacrifices that compromised so much of what they held important and dear.
"Maybe. I don't know. She's all grouchy and cranky after Liz and Don's wedding. Caught the darn bouquet and nagged at me daily about how 'embarrassing' it was when all the girls simply jumped away when the bunch of roses plummet down at them and she actually reached out to grab them. Besides…" A slow, personal smile crept up the sides of those displeased lips, "It's time. It's long overdue."
Joe wanted to make a wisecrack about how Frank had been brainwashed but halt his tongue when he recognized the quiet resonance of bliss amalgamated in the thickened speech towards the end. So, Frank found his soul mate about nine years ago. And he was finally making her his.
Marriage. Joe cleared his mind of all the terrible things he could say and swear true about two people living together in body and spirit as he concentrated on climbing all forty flights of stairs to the twentieth floor of the pointed block.
"Finally! Last flight! You know what will really annoy me right now?" Frank called out from behind breathlessly.
"That I left the 'picks in the car?" Joe stood at the stairs landing and extended out a hand to pull his brother up as he struggled with the last torturous step.
"Yah. Something like that." Frank accepted the assistance gratefully with scarcely a wince of a bruised male ego. "Thanks, bro."
"No worries. You'll do the same. Callie's cooking improved such that it's actually edible?" Joe could not resist the quip and met with vapid, exhausted eyes, signaling that Frank was not amused.
"Ok, ok. Don't look like a zombie now."
"I feel like one." Frank admitted. "Forty flights of stairs. Why can't everyone be infected with vertigo?"
"Coz not everyone's you." Joe murmured as he peered out of the rectangular, plastic panel in the exit door. When he noted that the coast was clear, he gently turned the knob and swung the door opened, keeping his head low lest the security camera caught his face. However, he had every faith that Callie's acting skills would keep the guard from observing jadedly at the security monitors and finally seeing something interesting like two goons breaking into some apartment.
Frank tapped his shoulder and pointed at the right door. Each floor only held four apartments which shared a common, carpeted, octagonal vestibule. Woe to the cleaner if someone should traipse into the lobby from the elevator with muddy shoes. Joe stood by the door and drew out a pouch which looked like manicure set holder. Before he revealed the contents construe out of more sophisticated robbers' stainless steel dreams, he glanced at his brother and grinned mirthlessly.
"I have forgotten the picks. Will ya be a dear and go fetch it?"
"Right. I'll throw you down from here personally." Frank remarked acerbically, "C'mon. Don't play the fool now."
Joe chuckled lowly. Under his expert administration, he had the lock yield to his prowess in no time.
"Not bad. Looks like someone's skills has improved tremendously. Your timing's better than mine by ten seconds." Frank looked up from his watch, impressed. Joe's pride was injected with a shot of verbal booster- unbeknownst to everyone, Frank used to be the better rouge.
"Well, I have a great teacher to begin with."
"I was damning myself when I taught you this. Now, I have to bolt my door."
"Oh puleeze… like you have deep, dark secrets that will you if we know." Joe pushed the door open and with a flourish, gestured for Frank to enter first. "After you."
"Thank you, my good man…" Frank strolled in like a swaggering magnate and even had the audacity to tip Joe with an old, dollar bill as he passed, "And it won't kill me if you know my secrets. It'll kill ya."
Joe let out the required polite laughter that sounded so squeezed out of his chest, knowing that Frank was larking around to distract him from his anxiety as much as he was trying to do that for himself. But right then, he could no longer pretend to still banter like before as the most promising lead to Hallie's uncover before his eyes. The bastard couldn't have planted every single clue. He couldn't be so smart. He was desperately hoping for a glimmer of hope- they could not be let down again.
Please, God. Let the soles be his mistake. His one big mistake.
***
"The four of them are in LA right now."
"Then you must be very happy."
"Happy? Do you even realize the stupid mistake you made? Why must you wear those damn shoes? Wasn't ridding him enough?" The cold, emotionless voice took on an uncharacteristic harshness. The executioner smiled satisfactory into the receiver- it was so fun to see his partner ruffled, or rather, in this case, hear. Sometimes, he wondered how his partner sounded in that other, delusional life of his. A pretty, pitiful life of those aimless mortals.
"Then we'll just get rid of them."
"You book the earliest flight you can to LA, hear me?"
"Why? Why LA?" He sung aloofly into the phone, rubbing the salve on his disfigured fingertips. It was only a pair of shoes. He loved wearing that pair of calf, leather shoe. It was symbolic, very important. And how could they link a sole print to him?
He laughed inwardly. How could they catch a dead man?
There was heavy breathing on the other end. By the dark waters, murky chambers of the children's souls, his old friend worried too much. They had melded their souls together and never once were they exorcist. A tiny slip never means anything- the police and Feds were idiots. Four bumblebrains? Not a chance in hell!
"Has the ventricle in your brain grew larger, you stupid oaf? Now, stop singing and listen to me! We must get rid of them."
"And I'll have to do it. You never get your hands dirty… tsk tsk." The executioner gently set the salve down onto the moldy oak wood table. What a shame- something so strong and sturdy succumbing to years of moisture and neglect. He stretched himself out, cracking the tension out of his bones. Ah! It was so nice to be free of those irritating voices for a while. He flicked the switch on the epilator. The buzzing sound excited him with the anticipation of a million ant bites soon stimulating his entire body.
"That's because without me, you'll be incarcerated sooner than you draw your next breath! Listen and shut up."
"You're losing it. Calm down. Ok. I'm listening. Oh… before you start, can I kill the girl already?"
***
Joe cursed silently in aggravation as he tempered with the bottom cupboard's lock of the tall column shelf. After stumbling into the bathroom and the horrendously purpled bedroom, they finally opened the right door into Demoir's workplace. Actually, they weren't even sure if Demoir even had a workplace in his apartment and for a second there, Joe was afraid that they would have to search the whole house which was a kaleidoscope of nauseating colors and some actually recognizable furniture.
And after turning his workplace upside down with no results, Joe feared they just might have to risk an elephant migraine by getting to know the rest of the apartment intimately.
Last chance. The final, unexplored frontier. What will I find inside? Cobwebs and a tarantula?
He heard the satisfying 'snick' and opened the cupboard's door. It was stacked high with hardcover ring files and Joe's excitement surged.
"This must be it." He whispered, convincing himself and drew out a file, flipping through it. "Bingo! Names, profiles and blueprints of shoes."
Frank, who had been kneeling beside him in silence while he concentrated on the lock, took the file from him and frowned immediately. "It'll take us a long time to go through all these files. They're arranged according to clients' name, not shoe's size. Look at the precious paper and space. This whole place won't be so cluttered if he computerizes his work."
"You mean we won't need to go through all these manually." Joe smirked. "The whole world is not as tuned to technology as you are, Frank. Deal with it."
"All right." Frank started pulling out the files and stacking them up. He left slightly over half the files for Joe to carry. "You deal with it."
Joe watched his brother hefting up the stack of files which was as high as the height from his waist to his chin and groaned at the rest left behind for him. "Ok, if I share your sentiments now, will you forgive me and take some more?"
Frank grinned wickedly at him. "I'll love to but I'll break my back kneeling down again."
"Sheesh. Remind me to get you something special for your birthday." Joe grumbled, taking on his burden. The files weighed heavily on his screaming arm muscles and when he thought about the time they would need to go through all the sketching and compare them with the print, the prospect caused his head to throb.
"Bro… are we going to cart these back up when we're done?" Joe groaned at the awful thought.
"No. We are going to email them back to him." Frank balanced the files on his forearms as he turned the knob with his right hand.
"How? I don't think there's a bandwidth large enough to take these files and he doesn't even have a computer."
"Precisely. He needs to be taught a lesson in the convenience of technology. That's his just desserts for thwarting our efforts to get this done quickly." Frank supported the door open with his shoulder for Joe to pass through first. "Let's hurry, Callie might run of ideas soon."
Joe shook his head at his brother's jesting. Geniuses were weird and while Joe was the prankster, Frank could be cunningly sadistic if he wanted to. The world should be thankful that his brother's heart was doggedly on the good side.
Unlike those psychopathic evil-doers.
