"Everything your mother told you about your father being a human cannonball is bullshit. She made it up."
The boy's face turned dark and hard, but he didn't say anything. He was a sharp kid. Down deep, he probably knew it was bullshit.
"Do you know where your mom goes when she disappears?"
The hardness dropped from the boy's face like fog hiding from the sun. He stared at Wilson with wide, expectant eyes.
"How do you know she goes away?"
Wilson let his voice soften.
"Here your grandfather hires me to find you, you think he never hired me to find your mother?"
Wilson felt a last reluctant pang, but this boy needed to know; the kid needed to know what was real and what wasn't because no one else in his life did or cared.
"She's got what's called a delusional disorder. Whenever she feels, I don't know, 'overwhelmed' is what they call it, she can't tell what's real and what isn't, so she runs away. Your father isn't a human cannonball. She might think he is, but she believes it because she imagined it, and she can't tell the difference. She's not lying to you. She just doesn't know what's real."
Wilson glanced over. The boy was facing forward, staring at the coming highway, as stiff as a fence post in the wind. Wilson felt bad, but he was just trying to help.
"Look, this isn't my business. I just thought someone should tell you, is all."
"I don't care. I'm going to find him."
"Kid, I don't have any doubt you'll find him, but be careful what you wish for. Whoever he is, he won't be anything like you imagine."
"I don't care."
"I know you think that now, but once you find him, you can't unfind him. He'll be part of you forever."
The boy's jaw worked, but his eyes never left the highway ahead.
"That's what I want."
Wilson glanced over again.
Elvis Cole sat quiet as a clam, but now a great sloppy tear spilled down his face. Wilson felt like a heel and was sorry he brought it up. He gripped the wheel and went back to driving. Time was money. He wanted to get rid of the kid and get on with his life.
PART THREE. Blood Lines
17
Golden called at five minutes after eight the next morning. He probably hadn't been awake that early in years, but he also probably hadn't slept.
"All right, you bastard, I set it up with the girls. They'll talk to you, but they're scared, like anyone needs this kind of shit in their lives."
"It's a high-risk profession."
He told me when and where to see them, and how to contact them if I needed to change the plan. I copied their addresses and phone numbers. I hadn't expected that all three would agree to see me; I guess Stephen had some sway.
"Okay, Stephen. As soon as I talk to them I'll return the computer."
"I think you're gonna fuck me up the ass is what I think. What kind of man walks into another man's house and steals his stuff? Like I should trust you?"
That's what you need at eight in the morning, a pimp assuming the moral high ground.
"You don't have a choice, Stephen, just like last night."
"Yeah, well, I got friends, too, you bastard. I want my-"
I hung up. Beckett would probably hear back from the Feds today, and Pardy would run Faustina's name, but I didn't trust that Pardy would get back to me. If a missing-persons report had been filed on Herbert Faustina, it would show when his name was run and save me a lot of time. I called Starkey.
"Hey, you wanna do me a favor?"
"We have a spare desk over here. Why don't you bring your stuff and move in?"
"Would you run the name Herbert Faustina through the MPRs?"
I spelled it for her.
"Faustina your John Doe?"
"Yeah. I'm not sure that's his real name, but it'll save me a lot of time if you get a hit."
"You want me to wax your car, too?"
Everyone is a comedian.
"Thanks, Carol. I appreciate it."
An uneasy silence developed before she cleared her throat.
"Listen-why'd you call me with this? You could've called your pal, Poitras-he's sitting on his fat ass right down the hall here- but you called me. Why is that?"
Next to Joe Pike, Lou Poitras was my closest friend. He ran the homicide bureau at Hollywood Station, and I was godfather to one of his three children. I didn't understand what she was getting at, but