A Family Affair
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Just playing. Enjoy!
Chapter 8.
Sara Pezzini leaned against a mailbox on the southwest corner of First Avenue and 14th Street, trying her best to appear relaxed and nonchalant. Moments earlier, the Witchblade had done the annoying swirly warmth thing that always alerted her to Ian Nottingham's proximity, and she had forced herself to stop her nervous pacing. Seconds later, she spied her stalker and her nephew emerging from the subway.
She noticed that Nottingham's hair was loose, its long, dark waves framing his always serious, bearded features. Unbidden, the memory of that brief, almost-smile she had glimpsed just before they parted ways popped into her head, and she found herself wondering how a genuine smile would transform his face.
Sara saw the black-clad assassin scan the street before quickly spotting her. Even from a distance, she felt the power of his glittering gaze, and she couldn't suppress a shiver of, of . . . Of what? Excitement? No. NO! Fear? No. Something in between, something she really didn't want to examine at the moment.
Joey must have said something, because Nottingham glanced down at the boy, thankfully breaking the evil spell that had to have been responsible for such bizarre thoughts.
'The stress of the job must be finally getting to me,' Sara thought, giving her head a little shake. 'This is Kenneth Irons' hired killer, for crying out loud!'
She watched her nephew approach, anxiously trying to gauge by his expression whether her spontaneous decision to let her stalker escort him to Stuyvesant Town was going to cost his parents a ton of money in psychotherapy bills. Sara was still not quite sure why she had decided to trust Nottingham to see the kid safely here, especially after the way the man had roughed him up earlier that morning. Although she knew that Joey was in very real danger from Angel Medina, she doubted the drug lord had had enough time to distribute the boy's description to his cronies on the street. Joey probably would have been perfectly safe riding the subway across town by himself. But something had made Sara accept Nottingham's offer to escort him. Maybe it was the echo of the last thing the assassin had said to her in that alley this morning, or, more accurately, the shocking sincerity with which he'd said it. "I would do anything to please you." Oh, yes, that little gem had given her plenty of food for thought. In fact, she could practically feel her own psychotherapy bills piling up.
Sara glanced beyond Joey just in time to see the edge of Ian Nottingham's long, black overcoat disappear around the corner. Typical. He couldn't even stick around long enough for her to thank him for seeing her nephew safely here. Well, she was sure she'd get the chance to do so later. After all, he was under 'strict orders' to stay close to her. This reminder of Kenneth Irons' unwelcome interest in her life was all Sara needed to worsen her already foul mood.
Joey Siri, Jr. looked pensive but determined as he walked up to her.
"Hey, kiddo. I hope that wasn't too weird or anything," Sara said to him.
"What? Oh you mean the subway ride? Nah. Ian's intense, but he's not so scary once you get to know him a little bit," Joey shrugged.
Sara raised her dark eyebrows in her patented look of disbelief. "Fifteen minutes on the subway and you think you know the guy?"
Joey shrugged again. "He's really shy and a little strange but he's not a psycho. Besides, you trusted him enough to let him escort me here, so I knew I could trust him, too."
Sara frowned. Her nephew was a little too astute for her liking, especially where her stalker was concerned. She decided that a judicious change of subject was called for.
"Tell me, do you know if Stuytown has a closed-circuit security system?"
"Yeah, I think it does."
"Then I better stay out of sight until Amanda buzzes you in. Hang on a sec, Joey," Sara told the boy as her cell phone rang. "Pezzini. Go."
"Sara, it's Vicky. We got big trouble," her friend the ME said, her voice barely above a whisper as if she was afraid of being overheard. "I found three sets of prints on that gun you gave me. One set belonged to Paco Gutierrez. Turns out, he's that John Doe I was autopsying when you came down this morning. You know, Jake and Orlinsky's vic? Anyway, since there's no matches in the database, I figure the other prints are Joey's and Amanda's. That's bad, 'cause Jake told me they have a witness who claims he saw two kids matching their description hassling Paco right around the time my autopsy places his time of death. And a squad car responded to a report of shots fired in the vicinity at approximately the same time. As I'm sure you know, it's gonna look bad for Joey and Amanda 'cause Paco was killed by a similar-caliber weapon to the one you gave me. And it gets worse: Unfortunately, I couldn't get a big enough bullet fragment from Paco to do a definitive ballistics comparison. What do you want me to do?" the ME asked anxiously.
Sara sighed. "Well, as it turns out, Joey didn't tell me the whole story about what went down last night when he confronted Paco and Amanda. The girl managed to get the gun from Joey, and fired it twice in order to scare Paco into giving her all of his smack and drug money. But Joey swears the shots didn't even come close to hitting Paco. Anyway, I'm about to go talk to Amanda. Joey thinks he can convince her to turn over the stuff she took off Paco and then turn herself in. I know it's a lot to ask of you, Vic, but could you hold off on submitting the gun into evidence at least until tomorrow morning?"
"Sure thing, girlfriend," Vicky said, relief apparent in her voice. "Sara, I'm sure you already realize this, but Jake and Orlinsky are going to insist on questioning Joey."
"Yeah, but I want to let his parents know what's going on before that happens. They can bring him down to the station first thing tomorrow. I'm gonna try my best to stonewall Jake and Orlinsky until then."
"Good luck with that. See you tomorrow morning," her friend said, and then hung up.
Almost immediately, Sara's cell phone rang again.
"Pezzini. Go."
"Pez, it's Danny."
"Hey, partner. I just heard from Vicky," Sara told him. "Not good news. She found three sets of prints on the gun. One was Paco's, and she figures the other two belong to Amanda and Joey. I'm about to go confront Amanda, who lives in Stuyvesant Town. I'm gonna try to persuade her to turn over the stuff she shook Paco down for and then turn herself in. The girl's parents don't get home until around 6:00, so I'm gonna hang here until then. Do you think you could meet me here in about half an hour so you can take Joey home?"
"Sure thing, partner. I'm right down the street from Stuytown. You do realize that Jake and Orlinsky are gonna want to question Joey, too, right?" Danny pointed out.
Sara sighed again. "Yeah, Vicky said the same thing. I'm gonna tell Jake and Orlinsky that you followed up on Amanda's boyfriend, and that his parents have already agreed to bring him down to the station for questioning. Hopefully, that will satisfy them, and they won't figure out that I've been holding out on them until tomorrow. What a freakin' mess, hunh? After you get here, you can give McCartey and Orlinsky a heads up. They can take Amanda in so Dante doesn't get his panties in a twist about us stepping on their lead. She's in apartment . . . ?" she looked at Joey."
"8A."
"Apartment 8A. Thanks again, Danny." She hung up and put her phone back in her jacket pocket.
"Aunt Sara couldn't you take Amanda to the station?" Joey protested.
"Sorry, Joey, but Danny and me aren't the leads on this case. Jake McCartey and Frank Orlinsky are. Besides, there's something I want to check out later, and it'll be better for me to be on my bike when I do. After I'm done here, I'll stop by the house so we can explain this mess to your parents together, okay?"
"Okay. Let's just get this over with."
Sara stood to the side, out of camera range, as Joey buzzed Amanda Lundquist's apartment. It took a long time for her to answer and her voice sounded fuzzy when she finally did, something Sara didn't think was solely attributable to electronic distortion.
Her heart ached for her 16-year-old nephew, who was trying his best to be stoic when he obviously felt like he was about to betray the trust of the girl he loved.
"Look, Joey, I promise you this is all going to work out for the best," Sara said as they got off the elevator. "You're doing the right thing here."
"Yeah, Ian said the same thing. I wish I had your confidence. I wouldn't blame Amanda if she never forgave me for this," Joey murmured.
'Oh, "Ian" did, did he?' Sara thought uncharitably, not at all pleased that her sociopath of a stalker was dispensing advice to an impressionable kid -- even if it was the same exact advice she herself had just given the kid in question.
Joey stopped in front of the apartment door and took a deep breath before knocking.
A pretty but too thin blond girl that Sara recognized from the Witchblade's vision opened the door and immediately threw her arms around Joey's neck.
"My hero! Thanks again for last night, Joey!" she laughed, hugging him.
"Uh, Amanda, do you remember me telling you about my Aunt Sara?" Joey said, gently disengaging her arms.
Sara stepped into the neat, spacious apartment, closing the door behind her.
Amanda squinted blearily at Sara. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sara Pezzini, Amanda. I'm a detective with the NYPD's homicide division."
Confused, Amanda looked from Sara to Joey. "What's she doing here, Joey? We didn't kill anybody."
"'Manda, Paco is dead. Somebody shot him in the head last night."
"Omigod! But you told her it wasn't me, right, Joey? I didn't even shoot at him!" the girl said, her voice rising with panic.
"But that doesn't change the fact that he's dead, or the fact that the gun Joey took from him has both of your prints on it, Amanda," Sara told her.
Amanda looked at Joey in disbelief. "You gave that gun to a cop, Joey? How stupid could you be!" she screamed at him, wrenching her arms from his grip.
"By coming to me he probably saved your life, Amanda. We have reason to believe Paco gave your names and descriptions to his supplier. That means there's a price on both your heads on the street. You can't just shake down a dealer and not expect there to be any consequences. Now, if you hand over the money and drugs you took from Paco and turn yourself in, you can get some help for your heroin addiction and just maybe I can make this all go away," Sara said, fast losing patience with the girl.
"You're lying! Joey, can't you see she's lying? They're gonna fingerprint me and when my prints match those on the gun, they're gonna try and pin Paco's murder on me!" Amanda said wildly, grabbing Joey's shirt. "Well, I'm not going to prison. No way! Your prints are on that gun, too, Joey. I'm gonna say you were the one who shot him," she threatened.
Joey stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. "You're just upset. You don't mean that," he said uncertainly. "You need to get help, Amanda. That's the only reason I did this."
"If you think jail is the kind of help I need, you're even stupider than I thought!" Amanda spat at him.
Sara had had just about enough. She pulled the girl away from Joey, and shook her. Hard. "You ungrateful little bitch! Can't you see Joey is trying to help you out here? He risked his life for you! And all you cared about was getting high again! But guess what? Forensics will show that you were the one who fired the gun, Amanda. Joey, do you remember what she was wearing last night?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Go in her room and look in the hamper. See if you can find the shirt and jacket she was wearing when she fired the gun."
Joey did as he was told, and came back holding a cropped denim jacket and a t-shirt. "Here they are," he said, his composure beginning to crack.
Amanda began to cry. "Oh, God, Joey. Why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me!"
"He does love you, Amanda. That's exactly why he's doing this. Now, where did you stash the drugs and the money?" Sara persisted.
"My parents are going to kill me," the girl moaned, sagging in her grip.
Sara gave her another little shake. "The drugs and money, Amanda. Don't force me to call in a team to toss this place. At least spare your parents that."
Helpfully, the Witchblade sent Sara a brief vision of a Nine West shoebox on the top shelf of a cramped closet. 'Thanks,' Sara thought back at it. 'But I think I got this covered.'
"They, they're in my closet in a shoebox on the top shelf," Amanda sobbed.
"Good girl. Joey, sit with her while I check it out."
She watched as Joey led the trembling girl over to a couch and then sat beside her, holding her awkwardly, while apologizing through his own tears for betraying her. Then Sara went into the girl's bedroom and looked in the closet, finding the heroin and drug money exactly where Amanda -- and the Witchblade -- said they would be.
For the next 20 minutes, Sara alternately paced and stood by a window overlooking the courtyard, waiting for Danny to arrive. She felt like she'd been through the wringer emotionally and physically, and she could only imagine what her nephew must be feeling. Amanda had stopped crying but the tears had been replaced by a hopeless, lost look that Sara didn't like. Plus, she had begun to show signs of needing another fix. The next 24 hours were going to be agonizing for the girl, Sara knew, and she didn't envy her one bit.
Her cell phone warbled.
"Pezzini. Go."
"It's me. I'm downstairs," Danny Woo said. "I just put in a call to McCartey and Orlinsky, and they're on their way over here."
"Danny's here, Joey," she said to her nephew. "I'll stay here with Amanda until her parents get home and the other detectives arrive."
"Please don't leave me, Joey," Amanda whimpered, clinging to the boy.
"I've got to go, Amanda. You'll be all right. When they say you can have visitors in rehab, I'll come by and see you. I promise," Joey said, gently pulling free of her grasp.
"Nooooo! Don't leave! I can't do this without you!" the girl cried, reaching for him again.
Sara grabbed her and held on. "Go, now, Joey. I'll be by the house later tonight. Just go!" she repeated as he hesitated, clearly torn.
"Please don't let them hurt her, Aunt Sara!" he begged. "I promised they wouldn't hurt her."
"Nobody is going to hurt her, Joey. Now, go on. Danny's waiting."
Finally, the boy left, his heartbroken sobs echoing in the hallway.
Sighing heavily, Sara gently patted the thin shoulders of the shaking girl in her arms. She was not looking forward to explaining their daughter's predicament to her parents. And then she was going to have to deal with Orlinsky and Jake, who were going to want to know how she had tracked down the girl so quickly -- well, at least Jake probably would. Frank Orlinsky was too stupid and lazy to care about the details, but Sara suspected that Jake McCartey was a lot sharper than his airhead California surfer boy demeanor led you to believe. With Amanda's cooperation, she was pretty sure she could leave the two detectives in the dark about her relationship to Joey, at least until she had the chance to inform his parents of the rapidly worsening trouble their son was in. It was infinitely better for this sort of bad news to come from a family member rather than from strangers. Still, her subterfuge was going to leave a bad taste in her mouth, especially where the blond rookie detective was concerned.
Unhappily, Sara was forced to accept the fact that there was just no way she could leave Joey Siri, Jr. out of this mess. Danny and Vicky had both warned her it would be unavoidable, but she had stubbornly clung to the hope that she could somehow shield her nephew from further trouble.
'Maybe the rest of the week will be better,' Sara thought wistfully. 'It can hardly get worse.'
More to come. Keep that feedback coming. Mama likes!
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Just playing. Enjoy!
Chapter 8.
Sara Pezzini leaned against a mailbox on the southwest corner of First Avenue and 14th Street, trying her best to appear relaxed and nonchalant. Moments earlier, the Witchblade had done the annoying swirly warmth thing that always alerted her to Ian Nottingham's proximity, and she had forced herself to stop her nervous pacing. Seconds later, she spied her stalker and her nephew emerging from the subway.
She noticed that Nottingham's hair was loose, its long, dark waves framing his always serious, bearded features. Unbidden, the memory of that brief, almost-smile she had glimpsed just before they parted ways popped into her head, and she found herself wondering how a genuine smile would transform his face.
Sara saw the black-clad assassin scan the street before quickly spotting her. Even from a distance, she felt the power of his glittering gaze, and she couldn't suppress a shiver of, of . . . Of what? Excitement? No. NO! Fear? No. Something in between, something she really didn't want to examine at the moment.
Joey must have said something, because Nottingham glanced down at the boy, thankfully breaking the evil spell that had to have been responsible for such bizarre thoughts.
'The stress of the job must be finally getting to me,' Sara thought, giving her head a little shake. 'This is Kenneth Irons' hired killer, for crying out loud!'
She watched her nephew approach, anxiously trying to gauge by his expression whether her spontaneous decision to let her stalker escort him to Stuyvesant Town was going to cost his parents a ton of money in psychotherapy bills. Sara was still not quite sure why she had decided to trust Nottingham to see the kid safely here, especially after the way the man had roughed him up earlier that morning. Although she knew that Joey was in very real danger from Angel Medina, she doubted the drug lord had had enough time to distribute the boy's description to his cronies on the street. Joey probably would have been perfectly safe riding the subway across town by himself. But something had made Sara accept Nottingham's offer to escort him. Maybe it was the echo of the last thing the assassin had said to her in that alley this morning, or, more accurately, the shocking sincerity with which he'd said it. "I would do anything to please you." Oh, yes, that little gem had given her plenty of food for thought. In fact, she could practically feel her own psychotherapy bills piling up.
Sara glanced beyond Joey just in time to see the edge of Ian Nottingham's long, black overcoat disappear around the corner. Typical. He couldn't even stick around long enough for her to thank him for seeing her nephew safely here. Well, she was sure she'd get the chance to do so later. After all, he was under 'strict orders' to stay close to her. This reminder of Kenneth Irons' unwelcome interest in her life was all Sara needed to worsen her already foul mood.
Joey Siri, Jr. looked pensive but determined as he walked up to her.
"Hey, kiddo. I hope that wasn't too weird or anything," Sara said to him.
"What? Oh you mean the subway ride? Nah. Ian's intense, but he's not so scary once you get to know him a little bit," Joey shrugged.
Sara raised her dark eyebrows in her patented look of disbelief. "Fifteen minutes on the subway and you think you know the guy?"
Joey shrugged again. "He's really shy and a little strange but he's not a psycho. Besides, you trusted him enough to let him escort me here, so I knew I could trust him, too."
Sara frowned. Her nephew was a little too astute for her liking, especially where her stalker was concerned. She decided that a judicious change of subject was called for.
"Tell me, do you know if Stuytown has a closed-circuit security system?"
"Yeah, I think it does."
"Then I better stay out of sight until Amanda buzzes you in. Hang on a sec, Joey," Sara told the boy as her cell phone rang. "Pezzini. Go."
"Sara, it's Vicky. We got big trouble," her friend the ME said, her voice barely above a whisper as if she was afraid of being overheard. "I found three sets of prints on that gun you gave me. One set belonged to Paco Gutierrez. Turns out, he's that John Doe I was autopsying when you came down this morning. You know, Jake and Orlinsky's vic? Anyway, since there's no matches in the database, I figure the other prints are Joey's and Amanda's. That's bad, 'cause Jake told me they have a witness who claims he saw two kids matching their description hassling Paco right around the time my autopsy places his time of death. And a squad car responded to a report of shots fired in the vicinity at approximately the same time. As I'm sure you know, it's gonna look bad for Joey and Amanda 'cause Paco was killed by a similar-caliber weapon to the one you gave me. And it gets worse: Unfortunately, I couldn't get a big enough bullet fragment from Paco to do a definitive ballistics comparison. What do you want me to do?" the ME asked anxiously.
Sara sighed. "Well, as it turns out, Joey didn't tell me the whole story about what went down last night when he confronted Paco and Amanda. The girl managed to get the gun from Joey, and fired it twice in order to scare Paco into giving her all of his smack and drug money. But Joey swears the shots didn't even come close to hitting Paco. Anyway, I'm about to go talk to Amanda. Joey thinks he can convince her to turn over the stuff she took off Paco and then turn herself in. I know it's a lot to ask of you, Vic, but could you hold off on submitting the gun into evidence at least until tomorrow morning?"
"Sure thing, girlfriend," Vicky said, relief apparent in her voice. "Sara, I'm sure you already realize this, but Jake and Orlinsky are going to insist on questioning Joey."
"Yeah, but I want to let his parents know what's going on before that happens. They can bring him down to the station first thing tomorrow. I'm gonna try my best to stonewall Jake and Orlinsky until then."
"Good luck with that. See you tomorrow morning," her friend said, and then hung up.
Almost immediately, Sara's cell phone rang again.
"Pezzini. Go."
"Pez, it's Danny."
"Hey, partner. I just heard from Vicky," Sara told him. "Not good news. She found three sets of prints on the gun. One was Paco's, and she figures the other two belong to Amanda and Joey. I'm about to go confront Amanda, who lives in Stuyvesant Town. I'm gonna try to persuade her to turn over the stuff she shook Paco down for and then turn herself in. The girl's parents don't get home until around 6:00, so I'm gonna hang here until then. Do you think you could meet me here in about half an hour so you can take Joey home?"
"Sure thing, partner. I'm right down the street from Stuytown. You do realize that Jake and Orlinsky are gonna want to question Joey, too, right?" Danny pointed out.
Sara sighed again. "Yeah, Vicky said the same thing. I'm gonna tell Jake and Orlinsky that you followed up on Amanda's boyfriend, and that his parents have already agreed to bring him down to the station for questioning. Hopefully, that will satisfy them, and they won't figure out that I've been holding out on them until tomorrow. What a freakin' mess, hunh? After you get here, you can give McCartey and Orlinsky a heads up. They can take Amanda in so Dante doesn't get his panties in a twist about us stepping on their lead. She's in apartment . . . ?" she looked at Joey."
"8A."
"Apartment 8A. Thanks again, Danny." She hung up and put her phone back in her jacket pocket.
"Aunt Sara couldn't you take Amanda to the station?" Joey protested.
"Sorry, Joey, but Danny and me aren't the leads on this case. Jake McCartey and Frank Orlinsky are. Besides, there's something I want to check out later, and it'll be better for me to be on my bike when I do. After I'm done here, I'll stop by the house so we can explain this mess to your parents together, okay?"
"Okay. Let's just get this over with."
Sara stood to the side, out of camera range, as Joey buzzed Amanda Lundquist's apartment. It took a long time for her to answer and her voice sounded fuzzy when she finally did, something Sara didn't think was solely attributable to electronic distortion.
Her heart ached for her 16-year-old nephew, who was trying his best to be stoic when he obviously felt like he was about to betray the trust of the girl he loved.
"Look, Joey, I promise you this is all going to work out for the best," Sara said as they got off the elevator. "You're doing the right thing here."
"Yeah, Ian said the same thing. I wish I had your confidence. I wouldn't blame Amanda if she never forgave me for this," Joey murmured.
'Oh, "Ian" did, did he?' Sara thought uncharitably, not at all pleased that her sociopath of a stalker was dispensing advice to an impressionable kid -- even if it was the same exact advice she herself had just given the kid in question.
Joey stopped in front of the apartment door and took a deep breath before knocking.
A pretty but too thin blond girl that Sara recognized from the Witchblade's vision opened the door and immediately threw her arms around Joey's neck.
"My hero! Thanks again for last night, Joey!" she laughed, hugging him.
"Uh, Amanda, do you remember me telling you about my Aunt Sara?" Joey said, gently disengaging her arms.
Sara stepped into the neat, spacious apartment, closing the door behind her.
Amanda squinted blearily at Sara. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sara Pezzini, Amanda. I'm a detective with the NYPD's homicide division."
Confused, Amanda looked from Sara to Joey. "What's she doing here, Joey? We didn't kill anybody."
"'Manda, Paco is dead. Somebody shot him in the head last night."
"Omigod! But you told her it wasn't me, right, Joey? I didn't even shoot at him!" the girl said, her voice rising with panic.
"But that doesn't change the fact that he's dead, or the fact that the gun Joey took from him has both of your prints on it, Amanda," Sara told her.
Amanda looked at Joey in disbelief. "You gave that gun to a cop, Joey? How stupid could you be!" she screamed at him, wrenching her arms from his grip.
"By coming to me he probably saved your life, Amanda. We have reason to believe Paco gave your names and descriptions to his supplier. That means there's a price on both your heads on the street. You can't just shake down a dealer and not expect there to be any consequences. Now, if you hand over the money and drugs you took from Paco and turn yourself in, you can get some help for your heroin addiction and just maybe I can make this all go away," Sara said, fast losing patience with the girl.
"You're lying! Joey, can't you see she's lying? They're gonna fingerprint me and when my prints match those on the gun, they're gonna try and pin Paco's murder on me!" Amanda said wildly, grabbing Joey's shirt. "Well, I'm not going to prison. No way! Your prints are on that gun, too, Joey. I'm gonna say you were the one who shot him," she threatened.
Joey stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. "You're just upset. You don't mean that," he said uncertainly. "You need to get help, Amanda. That's the only reason I did this."
"If you think jail is the kind of help I need, you're even stupider than I thought!" Amanda spat at him.
Sara had had just about enough. She pulled the girl away from Joey, and shook her. Hard. "You ungrateful little bitch! Can't you see Joey is trying to help you out here? He risked his life for you! And all you cared about was getting high again! But guess what? Forensics will show that you were the one who fired the gun, Amanda. Joey, do you remember what she was wearing last night?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Go in her room and look in the hamper. See if you can find the shirt and jacket she was wearing when she fired the gun."
Joey did as he was told, and came back holding a cropped denim jacket and a t-shirt. "Here they are," he said, his composure beginning to crack.
Amanda began to cry. "Oh, God, Joey. Why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me!"
"He does love you, Amanda. That's exactly why he's doing this. Now, where did you stash the drugs and the money?" Sara persisted.
"My parents are going to kill me," the girl moaned, sagging in her grip.
Sara gave her another little shake. "The drugs and money, Amanda. Don't force me to call in a team to toss this place. At least spare your parents that."
Helpfully, the Witchblade sent Sara a brief vision of a Nine West shoebox on the top shelf of a cramped closet. 'Thanks,' Sara thought back at it. 'But I think I got this covered.'
"They, they're in my closet in a shoebox on the top shelf," Amanda sobbed.
"Good girl. Joey, sit with her while I check it out."
She watched as Joey led the trembling girl over to a couch and then sat beside her, holding her awkwardly, while apologizing through his own tears for betraying her. Then Sara went into the girl's bedroom and looked in the closet, finding the heroin and drug money exactly where Amanda -- and the Witchblade -- said they would be.
For the next 20 minutes, Sara alternately paced and stood by a window overlooking the courtyard, waiting for Danny to arrive. She felt like she'd been through the wringer emotionally and physically, and she could only imagine what her nephew must be feeling. Amanda had stopped crying but the tears had been replaced by a hopeless, lost look that Sara didn't like. Plus, she had begun to show signs of needing another fix. The next 24 hours were going to be agonizing for the girl, Sara knew, and she didn't envy her one bit.
Her cell phone warbled.
"Pezzini. Go."
"It's me. I'm downstairs," Danny Woo said. "I just put in a call to McCartey and Orlinsky, and they're on their way over here."
"Danny's here, Joey," she said to her nephew. "I'll stay here with Amanda until her parents get home and the other detectives arrive."
"Please don't leave me, Joey," Amanda whimpered, clinging to the boy.
"I've got to go, Amanda. You'll be all right. When they say you can have visitors in rehab, I'll come by and see you. I promise," Joey said, gently pulling free of her grasp.
"Nooooo! Don't leave! I can't do this without you!" the girl cried, reaching for him again.
Sara grabbed her and held on. "Go, now, Joey. I'll be by the house later tonight. Just go!" she repeated as he hesitated, clearly torn.
"Please don't let them hurt her, Aunt Sara!" he begged. "I promised they wouldn't hurt her."
"Nobody is going to hurt her, Joey. Now, go on. Danny's waiting."
Finally, the boy left, his heartbroken sobs echoing in the hallway.
Sighing heavily, Sara gently patted the thin shoulders of the shaking girl in her arms. She was not looking forward to explaining their daughter's predicament to her parents. And then she was going to have to deal with Orlinsky and Jake, who were going to want to know how she had tracked down the girl so quickly -- well, at least Jake probably would. Frank Orlinsky was too stupid and lazy to care about the details, but Sara suspected that Jake McCartey was a lot sharper than his airhead California surfer boy demeanor led you to believe. With Amanda's cooperation, she was pretty sure she could leave the two detectives in the dark about her relationship to Joey, at least until she had the chance to inform his parents of the rapidly worsening trouble their son was in. It was infinitely better for this sort of bad news to come from a family member rather than from strangers. Still, her subterfuge was going to leave a bad taste in her mouth, especially where the blond rookie detective was concerned.
Unhappily, Sara was forced to accept the fact that there was just no way she could leave Joey Siri, Jr. out of this mess. Danny and Vicky had both warned her it would be unavoidable, but she had stubbornly clung to the hope that she could somehow shield her nephew from further trouble.
'Maybe the rest of the week will be better,' Sara thought wistfully. 'It can hardly get worse.'
More to come. Keep that feedback coming. Mama likes!