Part 15 (1/2)
”Neither am I.”
I looked to Charlie, who shrugged.
”Since when?”
”I don't know. Last summer?”
”No one told me.”
Fisher snorted. ”Why would anyone tell you, Porter?”
Good question. We weren't close, almost never spoke. We worked in different locations, hours away. Our paths seldom crossed, our mutual friend Charlie is all we had in common. Still, Charlie might've mentioned it. Maybe he had. Given my recent move and marriage, Charlie and I hadn't been spending as much time together, this past week notwithstanding. And it seemed whenever we did meet up copious amounts of alcohol were usually involved.
Fisher nodded at me. ”Fired?”
”I a.s.sume so. I told Andy DeSouza to get f.u.c.ked.”
”When?”
”This afternoon.”
”Did he actually say you were fired?”
”I hung up before he had the chance.”
”And you didn't quit?”
”Not exactly.”
Fisher brushed me off. ”Like you're the only one to tell Andy DeSouza to get bent. Porter, if they canned everyone who did that there wouldn't be anyone left to work up there. Trust me, DeSouza's a babysitter. A minor league manager. Concord knows what you did. h.e.l.l, I heard about it. I still have friends there.”
Nicki acted impressed, like Fisher's props improved my status in her eyes. Why did I care what this college girl thought of me?
”I didn't do anything,” I explained to everyone at the table. ”Brian Olisky blurted out he'd been behind the wheel.”
”Yeah, and you saved NEI like ten gee.”
Funny how that number kept going up. ”Doesn't matter. Whatever good grace I banked, I've p.i.s.sed away. I shouldn't have been up at North River in the first place. DeSouza forbade me from looking further into the Olisky case.”
”Andy DeSouza is a p.u.s.s.y. I'm telling you. You want Concord, it's still a possibility.”
”How do you even know about any of this? I thought you left NEI. Why do you care?”
Both Fisher and Charlie had the same s.h.i.+t-eating grins on their faces. I hadn't been imagining it. Something was up. ”Okay, spit it out. What's going on?”
”So remember last year,” Fisher said, ”at your brother's funeral, how you told me to drop investigating Lombardi?”
”Yeah.” How could I forget?
”I didn't.”
Fisher dug around in his satchel and retrieved a rubber-banded binder. Like my own collection of clippings and chicken-scratch. Only his was bigger. Fisher had clearly been doing his homework. He dropped the stack with authority on the countertop, parting papers earmarked with color-coded Post-its.
”I was talking to Charlie this afternoon,” Fisher began, focus waning as he multi-tasked. ”He told me how you two had been chased off by security guards at North River. Something rang a bell. Knew I'd seen that name before.”
”Hold on,” I said.
He stopped riffling and peered up at me through his round, hippy lenses.
I pointed at his pile of papers. ”What is all that?”
”Research. Since leaving NEI, I've devoted a great deal of time to this.”
”This being investigating the Lombardis?”
”Yeah.”
”When I'd asked you not to?” I turned to Charlie, who refused to meet my eye. He'd known all about Fisher's continuing to dig around and hadn't said a word.
”So I didn't listen to you, Porter. Shoot me.”
I made to stand up, an empty threat, since Nicki had driven me. Boxing me in, she wasn't budging.
”Hold on,” Charlie said. ”Hear him out.”
I reluctantly sat back down.
Fisher found his d.a.m.ning evidence, slipping the page, a cheesy entertainer in Atlantic City plucking the perfect card. He tapped the magic word.
There it was, clear and bold: UpStart.
”What's UpStart?” Nicki asked.
”You never told her about Lombardi's charity project?” Fisher said.
”No,” I answered without looking at her. ”Why would I? We're not dating.”
”Last year,” Fisher explained to Nicki, ”we-Charlie, Jay, and I-had a run-in with a family up here. The Lombardis. Very influential.” Fisher glanced my way. ”Some crazy stuff happened-I'll let Jay fill you in on the rest since it involved his brother-but UpStart's their baby. The organization is presently financing a campaign, funneling a great deal of money your way.”
”Whose way?” I said.
Fisher motioned at Nicki. ”She works at the Longmont County Courthouse, right?”
Nicki nodded, omitting the minor detail that she, too, had recently been canned. ”What kind of charity?” she asked.
”UpStart's a nonprofit for at-risk youth up here,” I said. ”This guy Gerry Lombardi ran it. Before my brother died, Chris accused Gerry of some pervy s.h.i.+t with kids. Said he had pictures.”
”Did he?” Nicki asked. ”Have pictures, I mean.”
”My brother was pretty far gone by then, but yeah. Blurry ones on a stolen computer. Couldn't prove jack.”