Page 62 of Delusional

A heavyset man in his forties was slapping the side of a computer monitor as we walked up to the counter. He looked up at us. “We only accept assignments via our website.”

Juliana smiled as she stepped all the way to the counter and said, “We’re here about your job opening.”

The man smacked the monitor one more time and stepped away from it in disgust. He looked at Juliana for a little bit too long. It made me uncomfortable. “It’s a warehouse job, sweetheart. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. You don’t look like you could handle that.”

Juliana didn’t miss a beat. “I’m sure I could handle it. But it’s actually my friend here, Katie, who’s applying.”

The man cut his eyes to Katie. She smiled.

“You can speak English?”

Katie nodded but didn’t say anything.

I knew that Katie understood English quite well, and spoke it well too, though with a pretty thick accent. The only thing that stood out about her English was that instead of curse words, she tended to use phrases Trilling had taught her over the past few months, like “Shucks” or “Shut the front door.” Her intonation and delivery were always right on the money.

The man motioned her to the counter and handed her three small packages. He asked, “Which package is going to the Lower East Side?”

Katie responded to him in a low voice I couldn’t hear. The man leaned in closer and she repeated it. He shrugged and urged her around the counter to his computer. I could see the screen but not where she was navigating to with the mouse. After a moment, she pointed to one of the packages.

The man said, “Wait a second. Do you think you could learn how to work our delivery program? It’s supposed to organize the couriers.” Katie nodded and, after a few clicks, was back in the program that had apparently been giving the man problems when we walked into the office.

In a matter of minutes, he was convinced and hired Katie for her computer skills, not to work in the warehouse.

Juliana and I stood watching in absolute amazement as Katie now showed her new boss why she should get a raise immediately, then my daughter turned to me and asked, “Tell me how Rob is really doing. He sounded so stressed when I talked to him on the phone.”

“He’s okay, but there’s a lot going on with his family. I’m sure you could call him again and find out.”

“I don’t want to seem like I’m prying.”

“That’s what dating is all about.” I smiled, but she still punched me in the arm.

CHAPTER 76

BARELY NINETY MINUTES after Maggie had dropped me off, she circled back and met me in Times Square so we could pick up the search for Leonard Barr.

We headed to the Bronx, looking for Watson Residential Construction, the company owned by Vic Watson, Leonard Barr’s stepfather. It had been easy enough to find the business records and address. The question was if Watson was going to be more helpful than his wife. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be as drunk as her while he was at work. But I’d been wrong about that in the past with other people.

We found the small office after spotting two orange trucks with the company’s logo on them. A security gate was open and another truck was parked inside the fence that surrounded the small building. A man was working in the courtyard, clearing debris.

As we got out of the car, I turned to Maggie and said, “We’ve got nothing to lose. I’m sure Barr’s mom was already on the phone telling him the cops stopped by.” We had to assume at this point that Leonard Barr knew we were looking for him. I didn’t know what kind of effort he’d make to stay on the run. We had no charges. We just wanted to talk to him.

As soon as we stepped past the security gate, the man working in the courtyard turned and set down whatever he’d been holding. He was a muscular Black man in his early fifties. “Can I help you folks?”

I smiled and was about to ask for the owner, but there was something about this man that seemed approachable and open. I had a feeling that he might be receptive to helping us. “I’m an NYPD homicide detective trying to locate Leonard Barr,” I said. “As I understand it, his stepdad is Vic Watson. Do you know if Mr. Watson is in the office?”

The man looked left and right and shook his head. He stepped a little closer to me. “No, Vic isn’t in the office right now.”

“Do you know his stepson, Leonard?”

“I do. He goes by Pry.”

“Pry?” After a moment, I laughed. “Oh, I get it. Pry Barr. That’s pretty good.”

“Can we keep this conversation confidential?”

“I won’t even ask your name.”

“None of the workers around here would care much if Pry ended up in jail again,” the man said. “The couple of times he was supposed to work here, he caused a lot more problems than he solved. That boy is a plain dumbass.”