Lasko nodded toward the one that wasn’t boarded up. “That’s it.”
“We need to be worried about knocking on his door?” I asked.
“Probably,” he said with a short laugh. “He’s a piece of shit, by every account.”
I opened the car door. “Great.”
The air was warm, almost humid, thick with desert heat. The breeze kicked up and an old, fast food bag drifted through the cul-de-sac. Our feet crunched on the gravel covered asphalt as we crossed the street and went up the walk to the door. A television blared from inside.
“Hang back and cover,” I said to Lasko. “I’ll knock.”
Lasko nodded and shifted to the opposite side of the walk, just outside of view from anyone who might open the door.
I knocked twice on the door and took a step back.
The volume died inside and footsteps shuffled behind the door for a moment before it opened.
A guy in an Oakland Raiders T-shirt and long denim shorts squinted at me. He was taller than me, well built, maybe a little younger. His hair was buzzed short, but there was a scar on his forehead that gave the buzz a weird part just left of center. Almond-shaped eyes that almost looked like they were of Asian descent. A short, fat nose. Skin the color of coffee with too much creamer in it.
“What?” he asked
“Are you Mosaic Farvar?” I asked.
He leaned against the doorframe, more amused than bothered. “Yeah. Who the fuck are you?”
“My name’s Joe,” I said, then pointed my thumb over my shoulder. “This is Paul. We wanna talk to you about a girl that went missing a few years ago.”
He lifted his fingers to his mouth. They were covered in what looked like barbecue sauce and he sucked hard on the index finger, examined the now clean finger, then looked at me. “I don’t know anything about no missing girl.”
“We’d still like to talk to you.”
He sucked on the pinky finger and laughed as he did it. “Man, I don’t have to talk to no cops.”
“I’m not a cop,” I said.
He squinted harder at me. “You’re something.” He lifted his chin in Lasko’s direction. “So’s he. You both stink like cops.”
“Used to be,” I said. “I’m not anymore.”
He nodded, like he was expecting that answer. “Can’t wash the stink off of ya, even if you’re telling the truth.”
“You don’t like cops?” I asked.
“Made my life nothing but shit, dude,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Fuck ‘em.”
I felt Lasko just behind me, but I figured he wouldn’t react. It wasn’t anything either of us hadn’t heard before.
“A girl in San Diego,” I said. “Taken from a front yard in Coronado.”
He examined his fingers again. “And why exactly are you knocking on my fucking door?”
“Because your name was the only one that kept popping up when I asked about missing kids,” Lasko said from behind me. “And I’m betting if I make a few more calls, I can find out you’re on probation and probably violating it in at least three different ways. So knock off the bullshit.”
Farver stared at him for a moment, then grinned, shaking his head. He swept his hand dramatically into the house. “Right this way, gentlemen.”
I stepped past him into a small living room that smelled like body odor and French fries. The wide screen TV on the wall was on mute, talking heads moving their mouths next to a football field. There were two large paper cups from McDonald’s on the glass coffee table, one ringed with water, as if it had been sitting there awhile. CDs were scattered on the floor beneath the TV, along with video games to plug into the player beneath the TV. The remotes were strewn across the worn gray carpeting.
Farver walked over and sat down on the black leather sofa. He didn’t offer us a seat.
“So talk,” he said. “Ask what you wanna ask.” He smiled at Lasko. “So I don’t get in trouble and shit.”
“Little less than a decade ago, a girl was taken from her home in Coronado,” I said. “You know where that is?”
He shrugged and I took that as a yes.
“From there, I’m not exactly sure what happened,” I continued. “Think she went to Arizona, where a woman then moved her to Minnesota.”
He stared at me, a blank expression in his weird eyes, then shrugged again. “Sucks for her, I guess.”
I looked at Lasko, standing across from me.
He nodded.
I took two steps forward, lifted my leg and jammed the bottom of my foot into Farver’s chest. He flew back into the sofa, his mouth wide open, the air quickly exiting his lungs in a loud gasp.
“It did suck for her,” I said, watching him. “So answer the fucking questions without your comments.”
His hands clutched at his chest and his eyes were shut tight with pain.
“She’s been found,” I said. “She’s back. But we’re trying to figure out exactly what happened to her. And I wanna know what you know.”
He opened one eye and rocked back and forth, waiting for his breath to return. He glanced at Lasko.
Lasko smiled at him.
Farver finally dropped his hands from his chest and took a deep breath. “I don’t talk for free.”
“We forgot our wallets,” Lasko said.
Farver looked at him, then me. “Kick me again, then. I don’t care, man. You want shit from me, it’s gonna cost you.”
“Do you know the girl we’re talking about?” I asked.
He studied me for a long moment. “Probably.”
I looked at Lasko.
He nodded again, his mouth set in a thin, tight line.
I pulled my gun from my waistband, kicked the table out of the way and jammed the barrel against Farver’s forehead. “Be more specific.”
“You think that’s really gonna scare me?” Farver asked. “Gimme a fucking break, bitch. You want information, you’re gonna pay.”
I pressed the barrel harder into his head.
“You ain’t gonna do shit,” Farver said. “One, your butt buddy over there is a cop and you’re probably lying about not being one. So you ain’t gonna shoot nobody. And, two. If you think I really know something about this kid and you drove out here to find me, then you must be smart enough to know that I can’t talk with a fucking hole in my head.”
He was exactly right. I wasn’t prepared to shoot him. I’d brought the gun out just to apply pressure, which he was either used to or unafraid of. Either way, he’d nailed the situation perfectly. But I also wasn’t going to pay him. For anything. There was a difference between paying someone you thought you could trust for information and paying someone you had no idea about. I had no idea about Farver, but I didn’t think I’d trust him for a second.
“Why are you so interested in this kid anyway?” Farver asked, still unaffected by the gun attached to his skull. “She yours? A friend’s?” He pulled his hand up and examined his fingers again, like he was looking for more barbecue sauce. “Kids are a pain in the ass, you ask me.”
“No one asked you,” Lasko said. His voice had an edge I hadn’t heard before and I knew he was ready to kick Farver’s teeth in.
“What kind of name is Mosaic?” I asked. “Or is that just some bullshit name you gave yourself to sound important?”
“My mama laid it on me,” he said, grinning. “Said it was because I was made of whole bunch of different good things. Or some shit like that.”
“Your mama must’ve been blind,” I said.
“Go fuck yourself, ex-cop,” Farver said. “And either shoot me or get the fuck out of here.”
I pulled the gun away and dropped it to my side.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, nodding. “Couple of fucking pussies.”
Lasko’s shoulders twitched.