Two Girls Down(63)

“Vega, wait, goddammit,” Cap said to her.

Vega stopped at the bottom and shot him a glare.

“This ain’t right! This ain’t right!” said Mrs. Lanawicz, waving her arms. “You people think you can do whatever you want.”

Cap looked around, faded floral-patterned couches facing each other, green carpet flipping up at the corners, narrow staircase to the right.

Mrs. Lanawicz struggled to walk, her legs bowed, back bent at the base. She made her way toward Vega, shouting various threats: “You can’t come into my property. I have a lawyer. This is a home invasion situation….”

“Mrs. Lanawicz,” Cap said loudly. “Shut up for a second.”

She shut up and blinked, and sort of a whirring sound came from her throat, reminded Cap of an eggbeater.

“We’re not going to hurt you or your son. We’re not going to arrest either of you. But if we leave and find out you were holding back information or harboring your son here, then there will be a good deal of trouble landing in your lap.”

Then she started to cry and let out a plaintive moan. Sometimes it really didn’t take too much.

“He’s sick; he hurt his back. Please don’t hurt him,” she said to Cap.

Vega looked at Cap once more and then took the stairs, two at a time.

Cap turned to follow, and Mrs. Lanawicz grabbed his sleeve.

“He hurt his back working construction two years ago,” she whispered, spitting on him a little bit.

“I understand that,” said Cap, unlatching her.



He followed and Mrs. Lanawicz started to climb slowly behind him. The dog ran in a little circle at the bottom, barking and wiggling.

On the second floor, Vega glanced at the closed doors and approached the one with Eagles and Flyers stickers lining the border.

“Can you wait a minute?” said Cap in a hushed voice.

“He’s right in here,” she said, finger touching the door.

“How do you know?”

“Cigarette butts all on the right side of the lawn, tamp marks on the sill. This sill.”

Mrs. Lanawicz kept coming, bellowing.

“He’s sleeping right now! He needs his sleep!”

Cap whispered, “You don’t have to break every fucking door down, Vega.”

This seemed to surprise her.

“Not every door, Caplan,” she said, almost sweetly. “Just this one.”

She pushed open the door, slammed it against the back wall.

The room was dark and humid, dirty curtains drawn over the single window. Posters of wrestlers, male and female, covered the walls. Cap doubted the décor had changed since Charlie Bright had been in junior high. There was a figure in a twin bed stirring under a blanket, without urgency.

“Charlie!” yelled Mrs. Lanawicz, almost at the top of the stairs. “They’re police, Charlie!”

This got his attention. Charlie Bright sat up on his elbows, long hair and a raggedy beard and small eyes lolling around.

Cap held his hand out to Vega. Stand back for one second, he said to her in his head. To his relief, she did.

“Charles Bright?” said Cap.

“Yeah?”

“We need to ask you some questions about a former co-worker of yours, Evan Marsh.”

Bright coughed and spit into a mug on the floor next to his bed.

“Don’t know him,” he said.

Cap sighed.

“Charlie, they wanna ask you questions!” yelled Charlie’s mother from the hallway.



“I worked at the Giant six months ago,” said Bright. “I’m out on disability.”

“What’s the injury?” said Cap.

“Back. Got a pinched nerve between L4 and L5.”

“I would imagine you’re medicated for that,” said Cap.

Bright sucked on his two front teeth.

“Got legal prescriptions from doctors.”

“He’s got a pinched nerve,” said Mrs. Lanawicz, breathing heavy in the doorway. “Between L5 and L6.”

“I told them!” yelled Bright. “They don’t want to listen.”

“So just to clarify,” said Cap. “You were employed by the Giant during roughly the same time frame as Evan Marsh, but you never met him or associated with him in either a personal or professional context?”

“Uh,” said Bright. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Then he yawned.

You dumb motherfucker, Cap thought. He looked at Vega and said, “I’ll get Mama.”

Vega’s eyes lit up, Roman candle style, and then she charged the bed. Bright was so surprised he pulled the blanket up to his face, trying to hide. Vega gripped the sheet beneath him and yanked. Bright shouted and rolled out of the bed, landing hard on the floor.

“No! My boy!” screamed Mrs. Lanawicz, lurching forward.

Cap held his arm in front of her, not forcefully.

Meanwhile Bright moaned, and Vega stood above him and shoved her boot into his neck. Bright coughed and grabbed her ankle. He tried to build some rocking momentum with his legs, lifting them up and down, but he was overweight and doped and didn’t have the sharpest reflexes, it turned out.

“What are you—cops?” cried Mrs. Lanawicz.

“Evan Marsh,” said Vega, crouching down. “We know you knew him.”