My heart swelled, “I’ll say it back every time.”
He gave me another squeeze, “I’ll come get you when I’m done talking to him. Don’t give him any information, okay? About anything. And Tia, I’ve checked and he’s spending about half his paycheck every week on drugs. His girlfriend, she’s a kindergarten teacher and she likes to get high, too. Since being with him she’s now got a lien on her car, which he drives, her credit cards are racked up with cash advances, and she’s on probation at work for missing too much time. I’m not sure how much we can trust what comes out of his mouth and this might be pointless but I at least want to hear from him, okay? And I want you to hear from him, so you can get your answers.”
I nodded. Drugs. Great. He went to the dresser lifted his necklace up put it on. I followed him downstairs and as he headed to his office, I headed to the games room in the basement to play Ms. Pacman to pass the time waiting for Tommy to come get me.
Tommy
Hearing love in her words and hearing her say those three words after having her “I hate you” etched in my brain…it did something to me. It gave me strength. I’d need that strength in the coming weeks as I kept digging through the shit about Pop; that was for sure.
Nino escorted O’Connor in. He sat down nervously. I hadn’t told him in advance of the meeting, just sent Nino to get him from his job. He looked freaked out. Rightly so.
“O’Connor.”
“How are ya, Tommy? Good to see ya. How’s my Sweetpea?”
I gave him a sour look. That he would call her “My” anything made me sick.
“Not thrilled that you’re here; I’ll say that. Drink?” I poured myself a whiskey.
“Yeah, please. Thanks,” he shifted around in the chair. He reminded me a little of Denis Leary. He was clearly nervous. Or he was tweaking from withdrawals.
“I wanted to ask you some questions about the death of Tia’s mother.”
He accepted the whiskey and drank it with shaky hands, “Yeah. It’s still raw. Hard to believe sometimes that she’s really gone. Mind if I smoke?”
“Yeah, I do mind, actually. Tell me about that day. Tell me about before you left her at home and about when you got back that day. Be truthful. I’ll check out your story. Don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t come across well in this story, unfortunately,” he said, putting his cigarette package back into his pocket with a sigh.
I lifted my chin, urging him to talk.
“Lita and I weren’t getting along. She left me after a fight about my gambling and my partying. She saw me flirting at a bar when she’d come to try to drag me home. So she left but turned back up a few days later and wouldn’t say why, wouldn’t say if she was giving me a chance, she was just sorta empty-eyed. She was going through the motions, y’know, cleaning the apartment, getting Tia to and from school but she wasn’t herself. The day she died she told me Tia had this school trip and I’d have to pick her up late from school since the bus’d be back after dark. I was running late. I’d been at the track all afternoon.
I was in a bad way, you see, I knew my marriage was on the rocks, money was shit, your father kept getting me fired from jobs. I’d get a job and then I’d get fired for no reason. I figured it had to be him; he was out to ruin me. He’d said as much. So I was at the track with my last twenty bucks, not knowing how we were gonna pay the rent ‘cuz Lita had quit her waitressing job when she’s left me and they’d hired someone else so when she got back she couldn’t get it back. I won $1800. I was stoked.
Then I remembered I had to pick up Tia from the school. Didn’t know why Lita wanted me to do it, though. No reason why she couldn’t do it so I called home and she didn’t answer. I swung by the apartment with flowers for her, ready to give them to her in the hopes she’d perk up before going to pick up my daughter and when I got home I didn’t think she was there but then found in the tub, a tub filled with her blood,” he choked up, covered his mouth, reached into his wallet and pulled out a small wallet-sized photograph and handed it to me.
I’d seen Lita’s picture, the picture she’d given me of her and Pop and like that, this was like looking at Athena but with darker features, skin more olive, dark eyes, same but darker hair. Same mouth, same bone structure. I felt bile rise in my throat imagining my girl dead in a tub, how that must’ve felt to him, even if he was a shitty father and a shitty husband. I passed the photo back.
“At first I thought it was suicide. She was so depressed. And then your father hinted that it had something to do with him. Tommy, if I weren’t such a mess at that point I might’ve tried to kill him. But I was already beaten down. And he was untouchable. He spent years destroying my life bit by bit and by the time I lost my wife, I was a shell of a man. I think he pushed drugs in my direction. I was getting offered free blow at those card games when no one else was, getting offered blow for cheap, too; I couldn’t afford it but my guy was selling it to me for dirt cheap and he ran for one of your father’s guys. Tom wanted Lita and she wouldn’t leave me so he destroyed me in her eyes. I think she didn’t leave me out of principle, not because she loved her life with me. I know there’s more, more she wouldn’t tell me. But I dunno. I think he stalked her and taunted her and she dug her heels in until she couldn’t take it any more or until he ended her life somehow,” He shook his head.
“So why do you want to work for me?” I changed the subject, feeling a chill. The stuff he said was just my Pop’s style. If he couldn’t have what he wanted, he’d make it so no one else had it either. That didn’t mean he killed Tia’s mother but the stuff O’Connor was describing, I’d seen my father destroy men this way, twice already in my life. Fuck, I’d seen my brother do it, too, for revenge against the bastard his ex fucked around with. Maybe it was another family trait.
He straightened up, “I know the business, I know how things work, I wanted to work for your father years ago, tried to call a truce, but he wouldn’t have it. I hear you’re taking over and I thought maybe I could get close to my daughter, work for you, help you…” he trailed off, shrugging.
Tia said he’d always had a mafia fascination. If my Pop was such a bad fucking guy who’d ruined his life why on earth would he want anything to do with my family?
“Why didn’t you take your daughter and run, get away from my father? Why the fuck did you leave her right under his nose?”
He winced and then shrugged and then started talking fast, too fast, “I didn’t think I’d get away. He stopped bothering me, too. I just hoped that he’d moved on. She didn’t live with me anymore. I let her stay in foster care for her protection, hoping she’d be off Tom’s radar. For all these years he left me alone. But then about three- four months ago, I saw him at a poker game, but a small time game, like he showed up cuz he tracked me down and he gave me this look and he winked and I knew I hadn’t seen the last of him. He and I talked for a minute, I tried to make him know I wasn’t a threat. Then your brother turned up out of the blue to tell me the score; that it was time to settle my debt. I kicked myself for not protecting her better but I asked around and found out Tom was retiring and you were taking over. I heard good things about you. I’m good friends with Marco Savarro’s brother-in-law and he said Marco said good things about you. I knew Marco worked here at your house while Tia was here. I was devastated when he was killed and when I found out that those Mexicans took my daughter. Then I heard you got her back and I knew that she was safe and it was this huge weight off my mind. The foster dad says she’s wearing your ring and she acts happy. I only ever wanted her safe.”
It didn’t make sense, what he was saying. A Swiss cheese story. And I wasn’t fucking happy about the fact that Mexico seemed to be common knowl
edge.
“I may have more questions for you,” I said, “I’m gonna go get Tia.”
“Can I go somewhere and smoke, Tommy? This shit has been stressful,” he said, “I need some nicotine before I face my baby girl.”