“Help you?” the taller one asked, stopping on the sidewalk.
“I’m looking for Janine,” I said.
“She’s not available,” he said, rolling his shoulders, flexing his biceps.
“I’d like to speak with her, please,” I said.
“He just told you no,” the shorter one snarled. “Are you deaf?”
“No,” I said. “I just repeated what I wanted.”
His brow furrowed on his tan forehead and he glanced at the taller one. “He’s a dick, Landon.”
“Easy,” Landon said to him. To me, he repeated, “She’s not available right now.”
“When will she be?” I asked.
He shrugged, flexing the biceps again.
“You both live here with her?” I asked.
Landon didn’t move, but the shorter one nodded.
“She your mother?” I asked.
The shorter one nodded again. This time, though, Landon saw him and frowned at him.
“Why don’t you go back in and tell her Joe Tyler would like to speak to her about Elizabeth Tyler?” I said. “Either one of you will be fine.”
“Mister, I don’t care who you are,” Landon said, stepping off the curb onto the street. “She’s not coming to speak to you.”
“I thought she wasn’t available.”
He smiled, exposing crooked teeth. “Call it what you want.”
“I think I’m gonna go knock,” I said.
The shorter one stepped into the street next to Landon. “Try it.”
I looked from him to Landon. “Sure you don’t wanna tell her I’m here? Before we do this? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to speak when we’re done and then I’ll probably just walk inside.”
Landon smiled and shook his head, wiggled his hands at his sides. “Mister, I don’t know…”
I hit him with a hard right cross, then jammed my foot into his knee, pushing the joint in the direction it wasn’t meant to go. He screamed and crumpled to the street. The shorter one jumped at me, but I already had my arm up, waiting on him. I caught him by the throat and shoved him. He stumbled to the side and I did the same thing to his knee that I’d done to Landon’s. He fell backwards to the asphalt. Both were clutching their knees, rolling around like turtles on their shells.
I went to step past Landon and he reached for my ankle. I shook his hand loose, pivoted and kicked him in the jaw, my instep coming up right under his chin. His head snapped back and he went over like a bag of sand.
“I told you you might not be able to talk,” I said, then looked at the shorter one. “You gonna try something stupid?”
He was still clutching his knee, tears streaming from his eyes, but he managed to shake his head.
“Probably the ACL and the MCL,” I said, pointing at the knee. “You’ll need surgery. You get up off the ground and I guarantee you you’ll need surgery on both of your knees.”
I left them there writhing in the street.
TWENTY
The front door was askew and I knocked on the doorframe as I took a step inside. The floor was covered in white tile and the whitewashed walls were peppered with what looked to me like expensive artwork. There was a small table in the entry way and I could see into the living room off to my right. Two small leather sofas, a flat screen TV and a square glass coffee table. Everything was neat and orderly and expensive looking.
A small, compact woman entered from the other side of the living room. Long dark hair swept up in a neat bundle on top of her head, wearing faded jeans and a purple T-shirt, her feet bare. She wore little makeup and was free of the fake tan the two I’d left in the street sported. She was maybe ten years older than me and she immediately looked wary.
“Can I help you?” she asked, stopping short of the glass table, keeping all of the furniture in between us.
“Are you Janine Bandencoop?” I asked.
She didn’t answer immediately, as if she was weighing her options. But then too much time passed and we both knew she was Janine Bandencoop and she couldn’t deny it.
“Yes,” she said. “You are?”
“Joe Tyler,” I said, then gestured back toward the front door. “Whoever the two were that met me out front are lying in the street. Both will need a doctor.”
Concern settled on her face and she took a step toward the table. “What? My sons?”
“I guess,” I said. “I asked if you were home. They lied and said you weren’t. It went downhill after that.”
“I’m calling the police,” she said.
“Please do,” I said. “I’m guessing we’ll need them eventually, anyway.”
She didn’t move for a phone. “Who are you?”
“I told you,” I said. “I want to know if you were involved in my daughter’s abduction from Coronado Island in San Diego.”
Her thin eyebrows attempted to furrow together in concern but it took her a fraction too long. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. I want you out of my home right now.”
I didn’t move, just stared at her, my expression impassive.
“And I want to see my sons,” she said.
“You wanna see them?” I held up a finger. “Hang on.”
I went back out the front door and they were both where I’d left them. I grabbed Landon by the foot on the leg I hadn’t mangled. I looked at his brother.
“I’m taking him inside,” I said. “You stay here. Got it?”
He nodded, grimacing, still hugging his knee.
I tugged on Landon’s leg and he moaned, the lights still trying to come back on his head. I pulled him up over the curb and through the gravel. He started moaning louder, making whiny high-pitched sounds that were unintelligible. I knew his jaw was broken and he couldn’t move it. I got him to the porch, pulled him up over it and dragged him into the house until I had him right near the glass table.
I dropped his leg and looked at Janine. “Here you go.”
She folded her arms around herself and shivered. “Jesus,” she whispered, her eyes widened in horror.
“His knee is spaghetti and his jaw is broken,” I said. “The other one’s in the street. He’s in better shape, but he’s afraid to move.”
“I don’t know who you think you are,” she said, the anger beginning to rise up. “But if you think…”
“Shut the fuck up, lady,” I said, waving my hand. “And if you feed me any bullshit here, I’ll start breaking more bones in Landon’s body.”
Landon, hearing his name, whined again, sounding like a beaten dog. He tried to move on the ground, but I stepped on his damaged knee and the whine kicked into high gear.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop!”
“I want to know if you were involved in my daughter’s abduction,” I said again, lifting my foot off Landon. “Not quite ten years ago. In San Diego.”
She stayed quiet.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it out. “I’ve got a federal agent on speed dial. She specializes in missing children. You either start talking or I make the call. You’ve got three seconds to decide.”
She chewed on her bottom lift for a moment. “Alright.”
“Alright what?”
“What do you want to know?”
“I already told you. My daughter. Almost ten years ago. San Diego.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s hard for me to recall…”
“Figure out a way to recall, Janine,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m about out of patience here.”
She opened her eyes, licked her lips and glanced at her son on the floor. “I need more details. I’m involved in many…transactions.”
“Let’s start there,” I said. “Tell me about your transactions.”
She took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the sofa closest to her. “I run a private adoption agency.”
“So you’re licensed?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”