Thread of Truth, стр. 10
He pushed the brim of his hat upward. “Des. Pretty good kid. Worked hard. Don't think the kid ever missed a shift. Think he worked for me for about a year?” He rubbed his mustache. “You looking for him?”
“His parents hired me.”
He nodded. “Yeah, they called me. His mom seemed pretty worried. I didn't have much to tell her.”
“But he was a good worker?”
“Sure,” Zavalla said. “I mean, most of my guys are Mexican. They're used to doing this kind of work, you know what I mean? Des, man, though, he didn't care. He just worked. I'd hired a couple of white kids before and they couldn't cut it. He was the first one. We talked a bit about when he finished school, and having him come on full-time. I couldn't promise him anything, but he was asking.”
I nodded. “His girlfriend told me he asked for more hours from you?”
Zavalla nodded. “He did, but I didn't have any to give him.”
“You didn't?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nah. I mean, I put him on our sub list. It's a list we use when anyone calls in sick and they can call guys on the sub list to take their place. But my guys hardly ever call in sick, you know?” He glanced toward his guys. “They know they can be replaced, so they show up. If they don't, they know they probably won't have a spot on the crew the next time.”
“That works okay for you?” I asked.
“It's the business,” he said. “It's how it goes. Most of these guys, I'm paying them cash on Fridays.” He shrugged. “That's the business.”
“So some things change, but not everything,” I said.
He frowned. “It's the business. These guys need money and so do I. But if I start asking too many questions, guess what? They aren't going to be able to work for me because I guarantee they don't have the papers for me to cut them a paycheck.”
I wasn't sure I agreed, but I wasn't there to argue best practices with him. “So Desmond wanted more hours, but you weren't able to give him any?”
Zavalla squinted into the sunshine. “Nope. And, honestly? Was more expensive to keep him on because he did get a paycheck.”
I watched the mower do a pivot turn on the grass. The driver hopped out of the seat to check the area he'd just cut, bending down and running his hand across the surface of the grass. He gave a thumbs up to the other mower, hopped back into his seat, and kept going.
“Can I ask what he was making?” I asked.
“You can ask, but I'm not answering,” Zavalla said. “It's my business what I'm paying my guys and I don't need anyone undercutting me. Not saying that's what you're here for, but that's my business.”
“Ballpark?”
He squinted at me. “Why?”
“Just trying to fill in some blanks.”
Zavalla shrugged. “More than minimum.”
That wasn't much help at all and I could sense he was growing tired of me.
“You knew his girlfriend was pregnant?” I asked.
“He told me. Said that's why he needed more hours. Told him all these guys got kids, too. Not my issue.”
“Why did you hire him in the first place?” I asked. “You don't really seem the type to cut anyone a break?”
I meant it as a dig, but Zavalla smiled and slipped his sunglasses back on. “Caught me on the right day. Someone didn't show.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I gotta go.”
I headed back to my car. I sat behind the wheel for a moment, watching Zavalla and his men work the grounds. I wondered what Desmond did when he was with them. Did he ride the mowers? Work the edgers? Was he one of the guys blowing grass clippings and doing cleanup?
I didn’t know.
Just like I didn’t know why he lied to Olivia and his parents about working more hours.
I wondered why he would lie about something like that.
And I wondered where he got all of the money to buy the things for his new baby.
NINE
Fog was hovering over Coronado the next morning. My early run was damp and I could barely see the water as I trudged up and down the hard-packed sand. The red roofs of the Hotel Del jutted out of the mist, but the rest of the hotel was barely visible. I made the U-turn at the hotel and forced myself to go harder back to the house.
I showered, dressed, and ate breakfast when I got back, still thinking about how Desmond might've been earning extra cash and why he'd been lying to his family and to Olivia. I thought about calling his parents to tell them what I'd learned, but I wanted to do a couple more things before I delivered the news.
One of those was retracing the route he took from Olivia's house back to his own home. The Lockers told me that he rode it nearly every day. I knew the road but I wanted to take a closer look to see if there were places he might've stopped or if anyone might have seen him.
I made it from Coronado to La Jolla in about half an hour and drove straight to Olivia Cousins' house. Her driveway was empty when I got there and the neighborhood was quiet. I realized I didn’t know what her parents did for a living, and if Olivia was staying at home alone with the baby during the day. Had she planned to be in an apartment with Desmond by now?
I thought about these things as I drove up the street to the main road, then found the bike path running parallel to it and headed north toward Del Mar and Desmond’s home.
The path stayed pretty true to the road, running parallel through