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“I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. I did some research on him. I should have mentioned it.” I sighed. How could I tell her I’d been side-tracked because of what I’d become convinced he was? I couldn’t, at least not in front of all these people
“He’s right, ma’am,” Shapely said. “He’s not a United States senator or an Iowa state senator.”
“But why would my mother say…” Jade bit her lip. “I guess she never thought to question him.”
“Brooke believes anything someone says if she’s getting attention and gifts,” Brian said.
“It’s certainly easy enough to check out,” Jade said, “but that might not have occurred to my mother. She did tend to let men walk all over her.”
“To be honest,” Shapley said, “Nico Kostas might not even be his real name. But we’re definitely going to look into this. That is, if we can find evidence that the airbag was tampered with.”
“You’ve just got to find it, please,” Jade begged. “I mean, why would he have disappeared? He supposedly cared about my mother, and now he’s just gone. Sounds like someone on the run to me.”
“Yes,” Shapley said, “it’s definitely suspicious. We’ll be in touch. Here’s my card.” Shapley handed one to each of us.
“Thank you for your time, Officers,” Brian said.
The two men nodded and walked away.
“I can’t believe it,” Jade said.
I put my arm around her. “What?”
“The jerk is a liar, and he tried to kill my mother. He’s probably going to get away with it. Now that the car’s been repaired, there won’t be any evidence of his tampering.”
“We don’t know if that’s what happened,” Brian said.
I kept my lips closed. That was what had happened all right. Somehow, in the recesses of my bones, I knew. Just like I knew that Larry Wade, my esteemed half uncle, had raped me when I was a child. So had this Nico character. And now he had tried to kill Jade’s mother.
Neither of them were going to get away with it.
* * *
Under the guise of needing to make a few business calls and run some errands, I left the waiting area. Jade was safe with her father, and she needed to be near her mother.
I did make some phone calls, but they had nothing to do with my business. Within ten minutes, I had the name of the body shop where Nico Kostas had taken his vehicle.
I drove over there and asked to speak to the person who handled the car. I was asked to sit until a man called Shem was available.
I thumbed through a Popular Mechanics issue from three years ago.
“Mr. Steel?”
I looked up. A young man, tall and thin, grease under his fingernails, his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, stood before me.
“I’m Shem.”
I stood and held out my hand.
He shook his head. “Don’t want to get you greasy. What can I do for you?”
“I’m interested in a car that was brought in about two weeks ago. The owner is Nico Kostas.”
“Yes, sir, I remember. It was a wreck. He’s lucky he got out of it alive.”
“Well, airbags are amazing things. Are you aware that he had a passenger?”
“Oh, yeah. Her blood was everywhere. Airbag didn’t deploy, I heard.”
