ascribing the blind stare as nothing more than the old fuck in the blankets recognizing the nostalgic purr of a Mercury engine. By the time they got to Norm’s, the unnerving incidents were forgotten. But not for long.
10
The Mother laughed. Her daughter-in-law and sons looked up from their plates.
“What’s so funny?” Marcus asked. He’d been pissed all day. Tired of being ordered around like a fucking nigger. Do this, do that. Maybe Danny’d been right.
“That girl coming around here this morning. Loo-te-nant Franco.” The Mother danced the title around. “Makes me laugh, is all. My daddy used to say, that dog don’t know what it’s bit into.”
“Maybe you don’t know what you bit into,” Marcus mumbled around a piece of bread.
He didn’t see the knife leave her hand. It hit Marcus in the temple.
“Goddamn!” he sputtered, bread flying from his mouth like snow.
“Don’t you ever doubt me, child. Not while you’re in my house, sleeping under my roof. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he sulked, dabbing his head for blood.
His mother stabbed at her chicken breast.
“Word,” she grumbled, “you two are just like your father. Him”—she lifted her head at Lucian—“frettin’ all the time, and you sulking the whole day. Uh-huh. You got his temperament, all right.”
Yeah, and you little Miss Fuckin’ Sunshine, Marcus thought. He shoveled rice and green beans into his mouth faster than a crack-head could hit off a rod. He couldn’t wait to get out of this ugly, dark-paneled room. His mother think she living in fucking England or something?
“It seems funny, is all, that girl. She’s younger than I thought she’d be. And a fool, too.”
That was just like his mama, be thinking everyone a fool. Well that bitch hadn’t looked like no fool snooping around in the supply room. What else had she gotten into before he and Lucian caught up to her?
His mother broke her bread and leaned toward him. As if she knew what he was thinking, and often she did, she confided, “You see, son. That’s what I was laughing about. This ain’t about police business. It ain’t about that at all. It’s bigger than that.”
Her grin iced his blood.
“That Loo-tenant? She don’t even know what this be about. That’s what’s so funny.”
Marcus didn’t like the sound of that, wondering what world of trouble his mother was getting them into now. He turned his head from her to his empty plate. Like a ten-year-old, he asked to be excused.
11
The next night Frank held a double Scotch in the air while she worked her way through the melee of the Alibi. Snagging an empty chair, she twirled it next to Noah’s and straddled it. She leaned into his ear, asking, “What’s your wife doing tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Why? You gonna run away with her?”
“Nope. She’s too smart to have me. Think she’d have time to go shopping with me?”
“Shopping?”
“Yeah, I gotta find something to wear to the opera.”
“Opera?”
“Yeah. The opera.”
“The opera?”
“What are you, a fucking parrot?”
“Give me a break,” Noah laughed. “Since when are you a fucking opera buff?”
Noah kept saying the word like he was choking on it.
“Mag liked it. I got into it from listening to her play it all the time.”
Noah’s eyes slitted and he asked, “You goin’ with the doc?”
“No fooling you, Detective Jantzen. So you think I could call her? See if she’d help me find something?”
“Sure. Markie’s got practice at 2:30 and I think Les’s is at 1:00, but we can work something out. Jesus,” Noah said wonderingly. “You dressed for the opera. Will you take pictures for me?”
Frank ignored him and leaned across the table.
“You talk to any of Danny’s homes?” she shouted at Lewis.
“Yeah,” Lewis yelled back. “Echevarria and Hernandez.”
Noah said, “Smokin’ Joe Lewis, here, called ‘em the most sorrowful excuse for men she’d ever seen. At first
10
The Mother laughed. Her daughter-in-law and sons looked up from their plates.
“What’s so funny?” Marcus asked. He’d been pissed all day. Tired of being ordered around like a fucking nigger. Do this, do that. Maybe Danny’d been right.
“That girl coming around here this morning. Loo-te-nant Franco.” The Mother danced the title around. “Makes me laugh, is all. My daddy used to say, that dog don’t know what it’s bit into.”
“Maybe you don’t know what you bit into,” Marcus mumbled around a piece of bread.
He didn’t see the knife leave her hand. It hit Marcus in the temple.
“Goddamn!” he sputtered, bread flying from his mouth like snow.
“Don’t you ever doubt me, child. Not while you’re in my house, sleeping under my roof. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he sulked, dabbing his head for blood.
His mother stabbed at her chicken breast.
“Word,” she grumbled, “you two are just like your father. Him”—she lifted her head at Lucian—“frettin’ all the time, and you sulking the whole day. Uh-huh. You got his temperament, all right.”
Yeah, and you little Miss Fuckin’ Sunshine, Marcus thought. He shoveled rice and green beans into his mouth faster than a crack-head could hit off a rod. He couldn’t wait to get out of this ugly, dark-paneled room. His mother think she living in fucking England or something?
“It seems funny, is all, that girl. She’s younger than I thought she’d be. And a fool, too.”
That was just like his mama, be thinking everyone a fool. Well that bitch hadn’t looked like no fool snooping around in the supply room. What else had she gotten into before he and Lucian caught up to her?
His mother broke her bread and leaned toward him. As if she knew what he was thinking, and often she did, she confided, “You see, son. That’s what I was laughing about. This ain’t about police business. It ain’t about that at all. It’s bigger than that.”
Her grin iced his blood.
“That Loo-tenant? She don’t even know what this be about. That’s what’s so funny.”
Marcus didn’t like the sound of that, wondering what world of trouble his mother was getting them into now. He turned his head from her to his empty plate. Like a ten-year-old, he asked to be excused.
11
The next night Frank held a double Scotch in the air while she worked her way through the melee of the Alibi. Snagging an empty chair, she twirled it next to Noah’s and straddled it. She leaned into his ear, asking, “What’s your wife doing tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Why? You gonna run away with her?”
“Nope. She’s too smart to have me. Think she’d have time to go shopping with me?”
“Shopping?”
“Yeah, I gotta find something to wear to the opera.”
“Opera?”
“Yeah. The opera.”
“The opera?”
“What are you, a fucking parrot?”
“Give me a break,” Noah laughed. “Since when are you a fucking opera buff?”
Noah kept saying the word like he was choking on it.
“Mag liked it. I got into it from listening to her play it all the time.”
Noah’s eyes slitted and he asked, “You goin’ with the doc?”
“No fooling you, Detective Jantzen. So you think I could call her? See if she’d help me find something?”
“Sure. Markie’s got practice at 2:30 and I think Les’s is at 1:00, but we can work something out. Jesus,” Noah said wonderingly. “You dressed for the opera. Will you take pictures for me?”
Frank ignored him and leaned across the table.
“You talk to any of Danny’s homes?” she shouted at Lewis.
“Yeah,” Lewis yelled back. “Echevarria and Hernandez.”
Noah said, “Smokin’ Joe Lewis, here, called ‘em the most sorrowful excuse for men she’d ever seen. At first
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