The wake-up

31

"He does look a little familiar," said the doughy checker at Ralphs supermarket, her tongue stuck in the corner of her mouth, as though that would help the cow think.

"Take your time," said the Engineer. "It's an old photograph."

The checker-her name tag said CARMEN-scanned cans of infant formula, bricks of cheese, and boxes of prepackaged noodle slop while taking another look at the photo of Frank he had laid on the counter. "Thirty-nine fifty-five," she said to the mother with the screaming brat in line, then turned to the Engineer. "What do you want with him?"

The Engineer didn't react, but he felt a wave of pleasure surge through him. She recognized Thorpe. He had already taken in her cheap jewelry, her fatigue, and the tiny photos of ugly children that dangled from her key ring in the register. "He's my brother-in-law," the Engineer said, head down, as though he were embarrassed. "Ran out on my sister and left her with a couple kids to raise. I hired a private detective, who tracked him to Long Beach, but I'm tapped out. Figured I'd try to find him myself."

"He didn't seem like that kind of a guy." Carmen took the check from the mother, wished her a good day.

"No one seems like that kind of a guy, Carmen," said the Engineer.

Carmen wiped her upper lip, thinking it over.

"I'm in a hurry, lady," said the next man in line, loading six-packs of generic orange soda onto the counter.

"I got a smoke break in twenty minutes," Carmen said to the Engineer, scanning with both hands.

The Engineer waited for her outside, watching the shoppers come and go. The shit that people shoved into their mouths never ceased to amaze him, but he was in too good a mood to dwell on that now. He had spent the last couple days stopping at every supermarket, mini-mart, gas station, and drugstore in Long Beach, showing Thorpe's photo without result-other than a poor fool who had tried to hold him up while leaving an all-night market last night. The Engineer knew that Thorpe lived somewhere nearby; the man's Internet signal emanated from this general area, but that was as specific a location as his equipment could determine.

A white kid in a FUBU sweatshirt pushed a cart toward the parking lot, one wheel wobbling. He gave the cart a push, rode it for a few yards. You would have thought the moron had won the lottery.

Thorpe's license plate number had proved to be another dead end. Not that the Engineer ever had high hopes for it. The plate was valid, registered to Frank Antonelli, but the address listed was a mail drop in Cerritos, and the clerk there said the box hadn't been used in months.

The Engineer watched a couple of seagulls fighting over the remnants of a fast-food cheeseburger, screaming at each other as they tore at the bits of meat and cheese.

Gregor was still in the apartment, nursing his wounds from his encounter with Ray Bishop, the policeman or security guard-whatever he was, he had beaten Gregor's face as if he'd been trying to tenderize it. Almost tore one ear off, too. The Engineer could understand Gregor being angry, but there was no excuse for killing the man before he could be of service. No excuse whatsoever.

The Engineer had insisted that Gregor stake out the house in Laguna, see if Thorpe returned, but Gregor had quickly grown bored, said that too many people were walking past his car, staring at him. When the Engineer finally disposed of Frank, he was going to rid himself of Gregor, too. He should have killed the man when he murdered the rest of Lazurus's crew. Kindness was almost always a cause for regret.

The Engineer waved at Carmen as she walked through the automatic doors. He followed her around to a bench on the side of the building, the asphalt strewn with cigarette butts.

Carmen lit a cigarette, dragged deeply, and exhaled slowly through her nostrils.

The Engineer smiled at her.

"He just seemed like such a nice person," said Carmen. "Always called me by my name, not 'Hey, lady' or 'Hey, you.' Same as you did." She looked at the Engineer, gnawed at her lower lip. "I don't want to get anybody in trouble."

"My sister just wants the child support he owes her. The kids at school are teasing them about their clothes."

Carmen nodded. "Don't I know what that's like."

"Does Frank come in on any particular day of the week? Any particular time?"

Carmen shook her head.

"Did he ever give you any idea where he lived? Maybe he talked about a fire that had happened nearby, or he complained about traffic from the college? Anything that would give you a sense, a feeling of what neighborhood he was living in."

Carmen puffed away. "Not really."

The Engineer smiled, wanting to drive his fingers through her eyes. "Did he ever come in wearing workout clothes? Maybe he talked about a fitness center, or someplace where he liked to go running. I know he's a runner. That's where he used to meet women to cheat on my little sister."

Carmen looked pained. "I wish I could help."

The Engineer patted her on the hand, felt her recoil. "Don't you worry. I know something useful will come to you. A sharp-eyed woman like you. I'm sure you'll remember something."

"Uh-huh." Carmen shaped the ash on her cigarette by rolling it along the sole of her shoe. "I got to get back soon."

"Did Frank ever-"

"There was this one time…" Carmen scrunched up her face with the effort of thinking. "I remember I asked him if he had gone to the Christmas tree lighting at the pier. It's a really big deal, with fireworks shot off the Queen Mary, and balloons and free candy. Anyway, I was complaining because it was so crowded that I had to park like a mile away, and push my kids in the stroller, and they had to double up, the two of them howling the whole way-"

"And Frank said?"

"He said he had just walked over to the ceremony from his place. I told him he was lucky, and he told me he got that all the time, but he thought I was really the lucky one, because Christmas was no fun without kids." Carmen looked at the Engineer, flicked away her cigarette. "So, I guess he must have missed his kids."

If the Engineer could have resisted the impulse to vomit afterward, he would have kissed her.