Part 17 (1/2)
The sheriff sat at the desk facing Don. He removed his broad-brimmed hat and placed it on the other side of the desk lamp. The shadowed brim had made it difficult for him to read the cards in Don's wallet.
”You daughter's okay, Mr. Luchessi,” he said. ”That's your real name, isn't it? Luchessi?”
”Yes, sir. Where is she?”
”She's all right. Mr. Rouse, the motel manager, brought her over to my house, and my wife made her some hot chocolate. She's probably having some oatmeal cookies with it. I just want to ask you a few questions is all.”
”About what?”
The big man chuckled. ”For one thing, about these two big bills. Are they real?”
”Yes, they're real. But what happened to Marie?”
”She said her name was Marie Luchessi, so you must be her father. Is that right?”
”Of course I'm her father. Is she hurt or anything?”
”No, no, she's fine. Why're you carrying around a thousanddollar-bill and a five-hundred dollar bill?”
”If I carried fifteen hundred dollars in one-dollar bills I couldn't fold my wallet,” Don said.
”That's right, that's right,” the big man chuckled, exposing his metal-studded teeth, ”I guess you couldn't at that.” He counted Don's traveler's checks. ”Four hundred and twenty bucks in traveler's checks, too. Right?”
”I think so, yes,” Don said.
”Where're you heading, Mr. Luchessi? A little vacation? New York, maybe?”
”No. I'm the state representative for Gunnersbury Silversmiths. You can see my business cards there. I'm visiting my salesman in Tampa, a regular field trip. Our main office is in Miami, and I make a trip to Tampa and another to Jacksonville about once a month, sometimes every other month.”
”You're the boss, then, right?”
”That's the way it worked out. I've been with Gunnersbury for almost ten years now. I was the Miami salesman at first, and then when the English representative retired, they gave me his job, too. So I'm both: the Florida district manager, and the Miami sales representative. Two hats. But what--?”
”This is a lot of money. How long were you planning to stay in Tampa?”
”Look Tomorrow I'm taking my daughter to Disney World. Well go on to Tampa for one or two days, and then we drive back to Miami.”
”In the middle of the week? What about school? Doesn't Marie go to school?”
”It won't hurt to miss a couple of days. She's very smart, and I've been promising to take her to Disney World for a long time.”
There was a knock on the door. The sheriff was on his feet and had the door opened before Don could stand. Don sat again as the deputy entered. He was a short man with curly red hair, and his expression, as he looked at Don, was a curious mixture of anger and loathing. He carried Don's.45 semiautomatic pistol loosely in a red bandana handkerchief.
”Look what 1 found in the glove compartment, Ed,” the redhead deputy said. ”Not only is it loaded, he doesn't even have the safety on.”
”Where does your little girl ride in the car, Mr. Luchessi?” the sheriff said, no longer smiling.
”She rides in the front seat, but she's been told not to touch my pistol. After all, I've got some ten thousand dollars worth of silverware to protect, and it isn't against the law to carry a gun in your car for protection.”
”What about the silverware?” The sheriff turned to the deputy.
”The trunk's loaded with it,” the redhaired deputy said. ”What about the pistol?”
”Put the safety on, and stick it back in the glove compartment. Then lock the car and wait outside for a few minutes.”
The deputy left, carrying the pistol, pausing at the threshold to glower for a long moment at Don before he closed the door.
The sheriff chuckled. ”Red's got four kids, you see, and he won't even take his pistol home with him. Keeps it locked up at the substation when he's off-duty. But he's right, you know. It isn't a good idea to keep a loaded pistol where kids can get it. They're curious, you see, and--but that's your business. If Iwere carrying valuable silverware in my car, I'd want a pistol for protection myself.”
”I'd like to know what's going on, Sheriff,” Don said.
”Well, Mr. Luchessi, we have a small problem here. I think we can work it out all right, but here it is. About an hour ago your daughter woke up the manager, John Rouse, and told him that she was being kidnapped--”
”That's ridiculous! I'm her father!”
”Yes, I know. She even looks like you. Anyway, John drove her over to my house and brought her in. He could've taken her to the substation, but he knew I was home and they'd've called me anyway, so he figured that was the easiest way. As he said, he brought her over without waking you up because he didn't want to take any chances, you see. I talked to your daughter, and she told me you were her father all right, but when she told me you had a gun I didn't take any chances myself. I asked her where you were supposed to be taking her, and when she said that you were going to Disney World tomorrow, I didn't take much stock in her story. She would be the first little girl to ever complain about being kidnapped to Disney World!” He chuckled. ”Anyway, Mr. Luchessi, I checked the thing out before I drove over here, and sure enough, it was on the wire tonight that you kidnapped your daughter, or that you're suspected of kidnapping her. What do you have to say about that?”
Don shook his head. ”I don't understand. I left a note for my -- wife,” Don lied, ”telling her that I was taking Marie with me. The only thing I can think of is that Clara didn't find the note. Why would I kidnap my own child, for Christ's sake?”
”I don't know, Mr. Luchessi, but your wife might think, that is, if she didn't find the note, that you were running out on her or something. So that's the position we're in right now. You and your daughter have been reported missing, and you are alleged to have her--well, illegally, I suppose. Anyway, that's what we're faced with, and although it isn't a big problem it is a problem, and we'd better work something out.”
”I could call my wife,” Don said, ”but if she didn't find the note she's probably hysterical by now, and it wouldn't do much good to have her tell you to forget the whole business, and withdraw the allegation. I have a hunch she'd be sore, and she'd want Marie back in Miami immediately.”
”Yes, I think you're right. She wants her back, all right.”
”Meanwhile, I've got to go to Tampa on business, and I don't feel like driving back to Miami and then up again to Tampa tomorrow. So I'll tell you what, Sheriff. I'll let you call the Miami police, or the sheriff, whoever put out the missing report, and then I'll give you the money for expenses and transportation. You can send someone down to Miami with Marie, and I'll go ahead over to Tampa and complete my business. By the time I get home again, two or three days from now, my wife will be cooled off some and I can talk to her and straighten everything out. What do you say to that?”
”It's an intelligent way to solve your problem.” The sheriff looked at the ceiling for a moment, and then put on his hat. ”In fact, I might take the trip down to Miami myself. I'll bet it's been six--no, closer to eight--months since I've been down to Sin City.”
The sheriff got to his feet and stretched, and Don joined him at the desk Don picked up his silver ballpoint pen and signed seven twenty-dollar traveler's checks. He handed the filled-in checks to the lawman.
”Will one-forty be enough? I know it is if you drive down, but if you take a bus--”
”I'll drive my own car down, Mr. Luchessi. Now, I suspect you'll want to talk to your daughter, won't you?”
”For a minute. I'm wide awake now, so I'll just go ahead and check out and drive to Tampa afterwards. Let's get Marie's clothes in the bag.”
Don checked out of the motel, and followed the sheriff's car with its flas.h.i.+ng blue light to the lawman's house. He waited at the curb while the sheriff went inside to get Marie. She came out shyly and reluctantly, wearing her new jeans and one of her Dolphin T-s.h.i.+rts. The sheriff and his wife remained on the front porch, and the red-haired deputy sat in the front seat of the police car. The blue light on top of the sheriff's vehicle was on and whirling, and Marie's pale face looked a ghostly blue to Don as she came down the walk. Don dropped down on one knee and opened his arms. Marie started to cry and then ran into his arms. He enveloped her, hugging her tight, and kissed her wet cheek.
”You're ten years old, baby,” he whispered, ”and you're old enough to understand. And if you can understand, you'll be able to remember this night. Do you understand, Marie?”
”What, Daddy? Understand what?” Marie wiped her streaming face with the backs of her hands.
”It was -your- choice, not mine. I'm leaving now, and you'll never see your daddy again.”