And just as subtly, Walter’s puffed-up hostility deflated. He lifted his bifocals and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Forgive me, Lucky. I know how much your family means to you. You’d give your life for theirs. But if he received such a package, why did they suspect you as the sender?”
“Because it came with a birthday card I’d actually sent him. Only someone replaced the video game I’d bought with drugs.” He pushed the next part out around a boulder lodged in his throat. Victor Mangiardi knew about the gift. Hell, even used his pull to get a pre-release copy of the game. “Victor wanted me to go with him out of the country when the Feds started getting too close.”
“But you’d never have abandoned your family.” A statement, not a question. Of all the folks Lucky knew in this bureau, only Bo and Walter ever noticed the Lucklighter clan-shaped hole in his heart.
“No, I wouldn’t. He’d have had to convince me to leave them behind.”
“And your family disowning you would have been a suitable reason.” Walter’s expression gave away nothing of his feelings. “You believe Victor sent the drugs to your brother.”
“Who else would have spent that much money?” Lucky dropped his head against the chair back.
“An enemy, perhaps?”
“All my enemies at the time would’ve taken a direct approach.” How in the world had Lucky survived so long without someone putting a bullet through his brain? Pure, dumb luck.
“Did your brother use the drugs?”
Oh yeah. Lucky never had been able to tell a story right without leaving shit out. “He OD’d. Damn near died.” Counting ceiling tiles made a better pastime than watching Walter blank face, hoping for a hint of emotion.
Not many folks’ opinions mattered to Lucky. Walter’s did.
Walter twirled an ink pen against his desk blotter, drawing Lucky’s attention from the ceiling. “Do you believe Victor would have put your brother in such danger? Remember, I knew him once upon a time. He might have been an opportunist when it came to making money, and skirted laws for longer than most traffickers without getting caught, but nothing I’ve heard of him would lead me to believe he’d risk your brother.”
Victor paid for all three of Lucky’s brothers to go to college, and when Charlotte fled her abusive husband, Victor bought her a house across country and paid a ‘little visit’ to the loser. Not to mention all the times he’d bailed the Lucklighter farm out during hard times. Why go to so much trouble then try to kill Daytona? “Good point.”
“Plus, as you said before about enemies, he’d take a more direct approach.”
“Yeah, he would, but I can’t be sure till I ask. While I don’t expect to run into any of the family but Charlotte while I’m in the hospital, I still gotta know if Victor screwed me over, and why.” Plus, even if Daytona never found out, Lucky had to prove his innocence, for himself and for Charlotte.
“I understand. And while I can’t promise anything, and I have no direct contact with him, I’ll do my best to pass your message along.” Walter-speak for “consider it done”. “Is there anything else you want to say?”
Was there? The boulder in Lucky’s throat grew to twice its size, dropped down, and wedged in his heart. While he’d never completely figured out his feelings for the man who’d shown him the finer points of drug trafficking and had shared his bed, he’d never once hated Victor.
If Victor gave Daytona drugs, years of hate were coming on. “That’s all I can ask.” And it’d be nice to have an answer before going under the surgeon’s knife. Minutes ticked away, and still so much to be done before taking an extended leave. “I appreciate all you can do.” Lucky rose from his chair, shaking his foot to restore circulation. Rookie evaluations called, and he must answer. He’d made it halfway to the door when Walter spoke again.
“I take it you’re still leaving tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about Moose. Lucy and I will take good care of him.”
“Thanks, boss.”
“Well, good luck to you. If you need anything else, anything at all, please let me know.”
“I will.” An imagined elbowing from Bo on one side and Charlotte on the other prompted, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. You’re my best agent. I wish you Godspeed and safe return.”
Lucky stood frozen. Should he say more? Tell Walter how much he admired him and how much he appreciated having someone believe in him, give him a chance, when no one else would? And who apparently believed he hadn’t send a heroin gift pack.
Walter struggled to his feet and moved faster than Lucky’d ever seen. One moment he came barreling down like a freight train, the next…
“Acck! Boss! I can’t breathe!”
“Oh, so sorry.” Walter relaxed his bear hug slightly. He held on and on, and whispered, “If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it with my last breath, because I really shouldn’t play favorites, but Lucky, you’re the son my wife and I always wished we’d had.” He stepped back, pushing a thumb and forefinger beneath his glasses to wipe his eyes. “Safe travels.”
He turned and took his time going back to his desk. Crying, maybe?
