Chapter Five

      Sometime near dawn, Maggie watched as her brother stirred. She crossed the room to his side and knelt down.

      “Danny?”

      “Hey,” he said, squinting up at her, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

      “Want a sip of water?”

      “I’ll take a shot of J. D. if you have it,” he said as he winked his good eye.

      “No, you won’t. I’ll get you some water.”

      She stood and went to the kitchen, returning with a small glass of ice water. She helped Danny lean up on the elbow of his good arm so he could take a sip.

      “Hope I didn’t scare you too much.”

      “I’m used to it by now.”

      “Yeah, but last time you told the old man and me you’d had enough of this bullshit.”

      “I was angry. Forget about that. How do you feel?”

      Danny leaned back down on the mattress and felt along his face, his fingers tracing the ragged line of the home-sewn stitches. “I bet as bad as I look. Even my eyelashes hurt, bright eyes. My earlobes hurt. There’s nothing on me that doesn’t hurt.”

      “Want some more Tylenol with codeine?”

      “Yeah. But I better eat something with it. Toast.”

      “How’s the arm?”

      “I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s broken.”

      “I think it was just a dislocated shoulder. I hope it was, at least. You going to tell me what happened?”

      “Damned if I know.”

      “Come off it, Danny.”

      “I’m serious. Three guys came into the warehouse we got out in Jersey. I was just getting ready to lock up. From the looks of them, I knew they didn’t want a pirated DVD.”

      “Have you ever seen them before?”

      He moved his head very slowly from side to side.

      “You owe any money around?”

      “I’ve been laying off the betting. Nothing. I got a bad feeling as soon as they walked in, and I started to walk toward the desk, where I keep a gun in the top drawer. One of them, a huge cement wall of a guy, blocked my way.”

      Maggie winced. “Christ, I know where this is going.”

      “Exactly. They locked the door and beat the living shit out of me. I put up a fight. Smashed a chair on somebody’s head. But three guys, Mags. I didn’t stand a chance.”

      “And did they tell you what they wanted?”

      “No. They just kept saying I knew what they wanted, which I didn’t. They flipped the warehouse from end to end. Went through my lockbox. They didn’t take the cash or find what they were looking for, either. They left me half-dead on the floor and said they’d let me think about it, and that they’d be back. I barely remember getting up and driving here.”

      Maggie’s teeth started chattering from nerves and she pulled her knees close to her chest as she sat on the floor. “You have no idea who they were?”

      “No. But they mentioned Dad. And from how they looked…you know the type.”

      “Christ, what is he into this time?”

      “I have no idea, and if we don’t figure it out, I’m a dead man. And frankly, I’m not too sure you’re safe, either.”

      Bobby Gonzalez’s deep voice called out from the bedroom doorway behind them. “What do you mean Maggie’s not safe?”

      Maggie startled and whipped her head around, and then she turned back and exchanged a look with Danny.

      “Listen, if you two are in trouble, I can help.”

      “Maggie told me you’re a cop. And cops, in general, don’t help the kind of trouble we’re in,” Danny said.

      “And what kind of trouble is that?”

      Danny glanced at Maggie. “It has to do with our father.”

      “So ask him. Whatever these guys wanted, find out what it is and give it to them.”

      “We can’t ask Dad.” Maggie didn’t look directly at Bobby. “We don’t know where he is. He took off over a year ago. He wouldn’t say why. Said it would be safer if we didn’t know where he was. We didn’t ask questions.”

      “What kind of father leaves his kids in danger like that?”

      “We’re not kids. We can take care of ourselves,” Maggie snapped.

      “As evidenced by you having to stitch your brother up last night? Look, if you don’t want to report this, fine, but I hope you have a better plan than sitting here waiting to be killed for whatever it is these jerks wanted last night. What’d these guys look like anyway?”

      Maggie saw the answer in Danny’s eyes before he even said anything.

      “Feds,” he whispered.

      “What was that?” Bobby came closer to the two of them. Instinctively, Maggie touched Danny, as if he were a talisman of reassurance. She fingered his shirtsleeve, almost absentmindedly.

      “Feds,” Danny said again, louder this time.

      “I don’t get it. What are feds doing beating the crap out of you?”

      “Whatever our father did in Laos,” Maggie said, “he had friends in high places.” She paused. “And enemies in even higher places.”

      “So we put out feelers. I can find someone to trust in the bureau. We can get to the bottom of this discreetly, put you into protective custody if we have to.”

      “You don’t get it, pretty boy,” Danny said, shutting his eyes. “You won’t find our father anywhere in the bureau, or anywhere, period. He doesn’t exist.”

      Bobby looked at Maggie, who nodded in agreement. “You could reach out all you want, Bobby. He doesn’t exist. He’s a phantom, and by birthright, so are we.”

      Maggie watched as Bobby’s eyes revealed a struggle to understand. He paced back and forth a few times before he turned back to them. “I don’t accept that you’re just going to stay here and wait for them. You have to be able to do something.”

      “We can call Uncle Con,” Maggie suggested.

      “Who’s he?”

      “Our father’s best friend,” Danny replied.

      “And he’ll know where your father is?”

      “Maybe. We have another uncle, Dad’s brother. He lives in Boston. But Con is more likely to know where he is.”

      “What’s Con short for? Conrad?”

      “No. Con artist.”

      “This just gets better and better.”

      Maggie got up to go make Danny some toast. As she neared the kitchen, Bobby approached her. “Can we talk in private?” he asked.

      She followed him into the bedroom and shut the door.

      “Are you out of your mind?” he asked her.

      “No.”

      “What’s going on?”