Page 28 of A Week Away
“Not that I’m aware of. He’d been in and out of work for a while. The Plymouth plant he was working at closed and got sold to GM. But they were going to take most of the guys on so things were looking up.”
“How were they getting by?”
“Unemployment, odd jobs he’d pick up. They were okay. I mean, it wasn’t enough for Joanne, but nothing’s enough for Joanne.”
“What about friends? Anyone you think we should talk to?”
“I still see Dick Potter every so often. If I go back to the old neighborhood.”
“The old neighborhood?”
“We grew up in Corktown. My parents bought this house in 1972. I was just out of high school. I don’t think Dick knows anything. I mean, he and I have talked about this for years.”
I asked for his phone number but avoided saying the obvious. If this guy did know something unflattering about Dom he probably wouldn’t tell his sister. And it was almost always unflattering things that led to murder.
“You believe your brother’s dead, don’t you?”
“I know he’s dead. He wouldn’t have broken off contact with my parents. Never.”
“And he’s never been declared dead by a court?”
“Joanne wouldn’t do it, and as his wife it’s really up to her. She claims he’s alive, but she’s a liar. Sorry, Cass, but she is. When my parents passed away they left this house to me and Dominick. He owns half of it. Of course, Joanne has asked for his half in cash. Says she’s owed it for child support.”
“Wouldn’t it be hers if she had him declared dead?”
“No. The way the will is written it goes to Cass if Dominick is gone.”
“What did you tell her when she asked for money?”
“This was five, six years ago. I offered to take Cass off her hands if she was having trouble taking care of him.” To Cass she said, “I’d invite you to stay for dinner, but it’s my league night and I’m meeting a couple of friends at Coney Island.”
I assumed Coney Island was some kind of restaurant, she obviously wasn’t flying to New York City for dinner. She’d be pretty hungry before she got there.
Cass hugged his aunt goodbye at the door. There was an awkward moment where she could have said, “It was nice to meet you…” But I hadn’t ever said my name. The look on her face said she was very aware of that.
Once we were in the Belvedere, Cass asked, “Where to now?”
“I’d like to stop somewhere and buy a jacket and maybe some underwear. And some dinner might be nice.”
Ten minutes later, Cass had found a K-Mart. Like most department stores they were ahead of the weather. The coats were mainly winter jackets. More than I needed. I picked out a navy blue crew neck sweater and a black puffer vest to go over it. I grabbed a pack of boxer briefs and some white socks. On the way out I snagged a large bottle of Tylenol.
“Why are you taking so much aspirin and shit?”
“I got shot. Christmas of eighty-four. In one side, out the other. The bullet went through my right shoulder blade. They screwed it all back together temporarily. I was supposed to get it all done again, but life got in the way. Last month I took a fall and it all came apart. They went in and screwed it all together again. Still hurts.”
Saying it all made me feel a bit like Humpty Dumpty.
“Who shot you?”
“I ruined a woman’s plan to get rich. She’d probably shoot me again if she knew where I was.”
I decided to leave out the part where the fall I took was because I’d ruined a woman’s plan to get away with murder. Ruining women’s plans… There’s something there I might want to think through.
The cashier rang me up quickly and I paid with my credit card. The total was nearly a hundred dollars. Most of it was the puffer vest. On the way back to the car, I said, “Tell me about Mr. Cray.”
“He’s my mom’s boss.”
“And…”
