Thankless in Death (In Death #37)(12)

“He’s finished with that.”

“He wouldn’t hurt them. You’ve got it wrong.”

“Contact him. Try him on the ’link.”

“Look, I’m his friend. You’re trying to trap him for something he didn’t do. Couldn’t do.”

Eve leaned forward. “He stabbed his mother in the kitchen. I haven’t been to the morgue yet so I can’t verify how many times, but he tore her up. Then he waited until his father got home from work and he bashed him to pulp with a baseball bat.”

His color faded to a sickly gray. “No, no, he … a baseball bat.”

“That’s right.”

Mal swallowed hard. “We played ball. Little League, then a sandlot league my pop put together a few years ago. But he wouldn’t do this.”

“He did this, then he stole the cash they had in the house, and he found the passcodes and transferred every dime they had into accounts in his name. He spent the last two nights in a fancy hotel, living it up.”

“No.” He rose, walked to the window in front of his desk. “I don’t want what you’re telling me. We’ve known each other since we were six.”

“Where would he go?”

“I swear, I don’t know. My ma’s life, I swear it. He didn’t come here. He didn’t tag me.”

“He ditched his ’link. He’ll have a clone by now so you won’t recognize the ID if he does. And if he does, be chilly, Mal. If he says to meet him somewhere, say you will, then contact me. If he comes here, don’t let him in. Don’t let him know you’re here, and contact me.” She set a card on the table as she rose.

“Give me some names. Other friends. And this Lori Nuccio’s contact information.”

“Okay.”

He listed names, and Eve keyed them into her notebook.

“She dumped him, you know. Lori. He lost his job, stopped paying his share of the rent.”

“A habit of his.”

“Yeah, I guess. He went to Vegas with some friends a couple months back. Joe and Dave from the names I gave you. I couldn’t make it. My sister’s birthday, and man, did I carp about that. He dropped a pile, I heard, and Lori kicked him. So he was living back home.”

Mal rubbed his hands over his face. “I’ve gotta go see my mother.”

“I can drive you.”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks. I think I need to walk. I think I want to walk. He’s practically my brother, you know? They just had him, and I’ve got a sister, so we were like brothers coming up. He’s a screwup, okay? I don’t like to say it, but he’s a screwup. But to do what you say he did … I need to go home.”

“Okay, Mal.” She picked up her card, handed it to him. “Put those numbers in your ’link. You contact me if you see him, hear from him, or anyone you know does. You got that?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

After tagging Peabody, dumping the two other friends Sylvia Guntersen gave them on her partner, she tried for the ex. And wasn’t as lucky as she’d been with Mal Golde. When no one responded, Eve tried knocking on neighbors’ doors until one creaked open.

“Not buying,” the woman said.

“Not selling.” Eve held up her badge. “I’m looking for Lori Nuccio.”

“You don’t tell me that sweet girl did a crime.”

“No, ma’am. I’d like to talk to her about something, but she’s not in trouble.”

The door cracked wider, and the woman gave Eve a hard stare over a beak of a nose. “It’s her day off. Mine, too. She went out a couple hours ago, I think. Going shopping, maybe she said, having lunch with a girlfriend, maybe getting her hair done. Stuff girls that age do.”

“Ms. …”

“Crabtree. Sela Crabtree.”

Eve took out her PPC, brought up Jerry’s picture. “Ms. Crabtree, have you seen him around here?”

The woman snorted, opened the door fully, shoved an absent hand through spikes of brassy blond. “That one? Not since she kicked him out, and good riddance. Now you tell me he done a crime, I’m believing you. Didn’t treat that sweet girl right, if you ask me. I told her the same myself, and how she’d find better. I had one like him at that age. Best thing I did was kick him.”

No one liked Jerry, Eve thought, but nodded. “If she should come back, would you give her my card, ask her to contact me?”

“I’ll do that.”

“And if he comes around, Ms. Crabtree? You contact me.”

The woman spread her lips in a snarling smile. “You can bet on it, sister.”

“Don’t confront him.”

“He hurt somebody, didn’t he?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Had it in his eyes. I’ve tended bar for thirty-three years. I know eyes, and those that got mean in them.”

“He hurt somebody,” Eve confirmed. “Don’t confront him, and tell Lori to contact me as soon as possible.”

“I’ll look out for her—and for him. But he hasn’t come around here in a good month now. Hey!” She shot up a finger. “I’ve got Lori’s pocket ’link number.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll try that next. Thanks.”