Because I finally had what I wanted.
What I needed.
“Mr. Tyler?” Valdez asked. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I said.
“Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Yes. It does.”
“I see,” Valdez said. “Then I trust you will do with it whatever you deem necessary.”
“Yes.”
“And whatever is done, please understand. We will be supportive of the resolution.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Valdez said and hung up.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and stared down at Farvar, with more clarity than I’d looked at anyone or any thing in the last decade.
“I ain’t giving you no name,” Farvar said, staring at me. “Don’t matter what you do.”
“I know,” I said. “But I have the name now.”
Farvar looked at me, confused, his brows screwed up together. “Huh?”
“I have what I need.”
He looked at me like I was crazy, then smiled. “Good. Then get the fuck out of my house.”
“So you can go back to work, right?” I asked, staring down at him, the television still illuminating his face. “Get back to business?”
“Just get the fuck out of my house.”
The thing with Farvar was that he would go right back to business. There was no conscience. There was no thought. He’d do what he needed to do in order to survive. And everything he would do would hurt somebody.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“You sold my daughter,” I said.
And I’m not sure what he saw in my expression, but he saw something because finally, for the first time, he looked genuinely afraid.
“Look, man, I…”
“You probably kept her here for a day or so,” I said, cutting him off. “Before you drove to Phoenix. She was probably crying. Scared out of her mind. And you were probably a serious dick, telling her to shut her mouth, to stop crying. Or you’d hurt her. Or maybe you did actually hurt her. And maybe that’s why she can’t remember anything because you terrified her.”
“I don’t even remember…” he said, trying to sit up.
I took half a step back and leveled the gun at his face. “I’ll bet you do, Mosaic. I’ll bet you do remember. Every single kid you’ve ripped away from their family. I’ll bet you remember.”
He squirmed some more.
“Tell me you remember the name,” I said.
“Man, I don’t…”
I leveled the gun again.
He swallowed hard.
“Tell me,” I said.
He swallowed again. Then said the same name Valdez spoke into the phone.
Confirmed.
“You send me a couple of emails earlier this week? Supposed to try and scare me a little? Someone tell you to do that, too?”
He swallowed hard, then managed to nod.
I didn’t move the gun.
“Man, come on,” he said, almost on the verge of tears, trying to scoot away from me on his butt. “Come on. I gave you the name. I’ll tell you whatever else you want. I won’t hurt anyone again. I’ll stop. I won’t do it again.”
“You’re right,” I said, taking a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “You won’t.”
I pulled the trigger.
FORTY
The highway was darker on the way back to San Diego.
The evening had closed in on itself, traffic disappearing and homes turning out their lights for the night. The desert looked like a big, black ocean out to my left as we made our way home.
I’d taken a few minutes to wipe down the front door in order to ensure my fingerprints wouldn’t be found. The cul-de-sac was still quiet when I’d left and I’d shut off the television before I’d walked out, leaving Farvar’s body on his living room floor. I reached the car and got in. I nodded at Chuck and he nodded back.
We didn’t say a word.
I wasn’t worried about being traced back to Farvar’s body because I knew what would happen when police or whomever finally showed up. They’d see the dead body, they’d identify him and the guy working the case would pull Farvar’s history. He’d see what a piece of crap he was and figure it was pay back for something Farvar had done in the past. The cop would run through the basics—question neighbors, check recent phone calls, run prints found at the scene—but nothing would come from those things. And then someone who didn’t deserve to die would die and that same cop would get called to that case and he’d be far more invested in finding out what happened with that person than what had happened to Farvar. Farvar would drop quickly down the to-do list and would be classified as unsolved. A better classification would be ignored and forgotten.
I re-gripped the wheel. I was calm, my hands steady. There was no regret, no remorse in what I’d just done. Maybe it was all the years of thinking in my head what I’d do to the person who’d taken my daughter, working over all of the scenarios and knowing I’d do it, knowing I had the anger and hate burning inside me. Putting the gun on Farvar felt almost familiar, like I’d been there before. Was there any pleasure in killing someone? No. But I had no doubt that if I hadn’t taken care of Farvar, he’d have continued doing what he’d been doing. He would’ve done to some other family what he’d done to mine.
Now? He couldn’t.
I could live with that.
And now that I had a name, I knew I was coming down the homestretch. I knew everything was in reach. Closure. Moving forward. Living a real life again. I’d still have to deal with Anchor down the road and maybe even Valdez might come calling. I’d made a deal with the devil and he’d eventually want to collect. But I’d made the deal to get to this point, to get to the point where closure was a reality.
I changed lanes, the only light on the highway the small yellow road reflectors under the beams of my headlights. I could only see black in both directions.
“You okay?” Chuck asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not a single car came down that road. No one.”
“Good.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell. “I gotta make a couple calls.”
He nodded, settled into his seat and closed his eyes.
I thumbed through the contacts until I found the name I wanted.
I stared ahead at the road. I could see dim headlights approaching from the opposite direction.
I tapped the screen and listened as the phone dialed first, connected and then started ringing.
The headlights grew in the distance, coming at me, probably driving as fast as I was.
A voice on the other end of the line answered.
“I think I’ve got it figured out,” I said. “Can you help me?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Can I come to your place?” I asked. “I can be there in ninety minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What did you find, Joe?”
“When I get there,” I said and hung up.
I glanced at Chuck. His eyes were still closed, his arms folded across his chest.
Then I thumbed through my contacts and punched another number.
The person on the other end answered.
“I need you to meet me.” I rattled off the location and before any questions could be asked, I explained exactly what I was doing and when I’d be there.
“I’ll be there,” the voice responded.
I set the phone in the center console. The car in the opposite lane rushed past us, the headlights filling my windshield for a moment, then disappearing past me, leaving everything dark in front of me again.
“It’s gonna be over, isn’t it?” Chuck asked, his eyes staying closed. “You figured it out.”
Ninety minutes.
A lifetime and ninety minutes.
“Yeah,” I said, my fingers clutching the wheel.
It was finally going to be over.
FORTY ONE
I drove Chuck to his house and he hesitated before opening the car door. “You sure?” he asked, looking at me.
I nodded. “I’m doing this part by myself. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll go,” he said. “Same deal as before. You’re the leader.”