Blue Smoke

her own.”
    She sighed. “I’ve got children of my own, grandchildren, too, and I know it would break my heart if I couldn’t see them. But Frank did what he had to do. A man who’d hit his own mother is the worst kind of trash.”
    “That was the last time you saw him?” Reena asked.
    “The last time, and as far as I know that’s the last Laura’s seen of him. Put a cloud over the holidays, but we got through it. Things simmereddown, the way things do. The most excitement we’ve had since is when there was a fire in the house my son’s having built up in Frederick County.”
    “A fire?” Reena exchanged a glance with O’Donnell. “When was this?”
    “Middle of March. Just got in under the roof, too. Some kids broke in, had themselves a party, hauled in some kerosene heaters to take the chill off. One of them got knocked over, somebody dropped a match and half the place burned down before the fire department put it out.”
    “Did they catch the kids?” O’Donnell asked her.
    “No, and it’s an awful shame. Months of work up in smoke.”
    When the front door opened, Patricia glanced at Reena, then got to her feet. “Laura—”
    “Why are they here?” Laura’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Reena imagined she’d spent as much time crying in church as praying. “I told you I haven’t seen Joe or Joey.”
    “We weren’t able to contact your son, Mrs. Pastorelli. He’s no longer employed at the garage.”
    “Then he found something better.”
    “Possibly. Mrs. Pastorelli, are you in possession of a watch and a pair of earrings given to you by your son last December?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Mrs. Pastorelli.” Reena kept her voice gentle, her eyes level. “You’ve just come from church. Don’t add to your own grief by lying about these items.”
    “They were gifts.” Tears, obviously close to the surface, dribbled down her cheeks.
    “We’re going to go upstairs and get them now.” Still gentle, Reena put her arm around Laura’s shoulder. “I’m going to give you a receipt for them. And we’re going to clear this all up.”
    “You think he stole them. Why does everyone always think the worst of my boy?”
    “Better to clear it all up,” Reena continued, leading Laura up the stairs.
    “He did steal them,” Patricia grumbled. “I knew it.”

    P iaget,” Reena said as she examined the watch. “Forty brilliant-cut diamonds around the bezel. Eighteen-karat gold. This is going to run about six, seven thousand retail.”
    “How do you know that shit?”
    “I’m a woman who loves to window-shop, especially for stuff I’ll never be able to afford. The earrings, probably two karats each, nice, clean square cuts in a classic setting. Our boy splurged on his mama for Christmas.”
    “We’ll check with New York, see if any jewelry stores were hit, or residences that reported items matching these stolen.”
    “Yeah.” She held the diamonds up to the light. “I’ve got a feeling some nice woman didn’t get the bling bling she was supposed to from Santa last year.” Idly, she flipped down the vanity mirror, held an earring next to her ear. “Nice.”
    “Jeez, you are a girl.”
    “Damn right. Came down to show off for his mother, rub some of his own into his uncle’s face. Expensive car, clothes, gifts. I don’t think he hit the frigging lottery. But the uncle gives him some third degree instead of being impressed, and he gets pissed. Big scene, tossed out. He’s not going to let that go.”
    “He’s patient. He’s one patient son of a bitch.”
    “That’s where he’s got it over his old man. Waits, plans, figures. He knows family, too. How do you get back at the father? You screw with the son.”
    “We’ll get the file from Frederick on the fire.”
    “It fits the elementary school job, and the garage in New York. Make it look like kids, or an amateur, nothing fancy—not on the surface. He’s good at this, O’Donnell. He’s really good at it.”
Smart, smart. Give the old lady a cell phone, a number to call when and if. Stupid bitch. Have to show her again and again how to work the thing. Just our little secret, Ma, you and me against the fucking world.
    Laps it right up, like always.
    And it pays off. The little whore from the neighborhood finally gets a clue! Having her remembering, that was sweet, hell of a lot sweeter.
    It’ll all turn around now. All the bad luck, all the bad breaks. It’ll all turn