The Concrete Pearl by Vincent Zandri Read Free Book Online

not exactly right.”
    “Which is it, Tina? Did he tell you where he was going or not?”
    She wiped her eyes again.
    “He didn’t tell me exactly. But I know that he and Daddy used to do a lot of fishing on the Desolation Kill near Lake Desolation. Do you know the place?”
    I nodded.
    “I used to fish there myself as child. With my grandfather. We used to camp on the lake sometimes.”
    “Your grandfather?”
    “It’s a long river; it’s a big lake. Lot’s of trees and stuff. Do you know exactly where they used to fish out of?”
    She exhaled and breathed in, like all this thinking was hurting her brain.
    “A bridge or something…out of Greenfield?”
    Tina’s words struck a nerve. I knew the place. So did the entire upstate fishing community. I reached into my pocket, pulled out one of my Harrison Construction business cards and handed it to her.
    I said, “My advice is to call the police department right away. No matter what your father recommends.”
    “Perhaps I was just about to do that very thing. It’s been forty-eight hours.”
    She had a point. Like Tommy had alluded to earlier about our occasional “run away” laborers, I’d gone through my fair share of construction workers who got paid on Thursday then suddenly and inexplicably flew the coop on Friday—no forwarding address to be found. Many times I’d gone in search of them. Like my present situation, the last thing I or the missing person needed was for the cops to get involved. Anyway, I knew it took forty-eight hours before the police considered someone missing.
    “If you should suddenly hear from him,” I added, “please be so kind as to call me. Or better yet, please have Jimmy… James …call me.”
    She said, “What could be so wrong at Public School 20 that you must see my husband in person?”
    The question gave me pause. It was as if an asbestos leak didn’t qualify as an emergency; that she suspected an ulterior motive in my surprise presence at her East Hills mansion. Perhaps a motive having to do with a crush I might be harboring for the old golden boy. Was she aware of my high-school backseat romp with her husband?
    I said, “I need answers from Jimmy. It’s a matter of life or death for a whole lot of kids who’ve been exposed to asbestos fibers for months.”
    As if by instinct she set an open hand atop her flat belly, hiding the silver hoop. As a woman, I instinctively translated the gesture as Baby aboard. Was Tina carrying the missing Farrell’s offspring?
    I put my hand on the polished brass knob, twisted it, opened the door. Whether it was out of politeness or anxious need to get rid of me, she went to hold it open. But I told her I could let myself out.
    “Spike,” she said. “Might I pose a question?”
    I nodded.
    “Does James have another woman in his life? Someone I’m not aware of?”
    I looked at her from outside on the landing.
    Her expression went from teary-eyed emotional to stone cold in two-point-five seconds flat. All the cash that surrounded her, all the suburban lavishness, the country club tan, the personal trainer bod, the plasma TV, the waxed bikini line, the Nike tennis clothes, the Town & Country wedding write up…none of it seemed to be making her the least bit happy. I was beginning to think the same thing about the incredible disappearing Mr. Farrell…Mr. Happy-go-lucky-go-suddenly-missing.
    “I have no way of knowing,” I told her. Not because I didn’t want to make her suicidal, but because it was the truth. I just didn’t know or care about what women he might be poking in his spare time. All I wanted was for him to make right the asbestos problem at PS 20, then give me my money back.
    “Please make certain he calls me,” I said, turning for the stairs. But half under my breath I added, “I’m not going to jail on behalf of Jimmy’s fuck ups.”
       Tina might have heard me, had she not already closed the door on her broke- down East Hills palace.
     
    What’s a