Page 90 of Thankless in Death

“Yeah, it is. Do you have contact info?”

“I can get it. She lives Upper East, with some guy. She’s modeling. She’s really frosty, and Jerry had a thing for her. She wouldn’t give him the first look, and told him to screw off.”

They ran through a few others, right back to the sweaty days of puberty, with Mrs. Golde adding in the occasional parent, shopkeeper, older brother, younger sister.

She’d been right, Eve thought. A long list.

“How about teachers, instructors, coaches?”

“He was really piss—upset,” Mal corrected quickly, “with Coach Boyd. He was our Little League coach for three years. Jerry got picked off twice trying to steal bases after Coach told him not to, so Coach benched him for three games. Then we were in the championship game, and Coach told him to take the pitch—their guy threw a bunch outside, and he wanted him to try to take for a walk, but Jerry swung away, and struck out. We lost, and he blamed Coach. Wouldn’t play after that. Shit. Sorry, Ma. I just started realizing how many people he had a hard-on for. How many people didn’t do anything for it.”

“You’ve got a good streak of loyalty, Mal.” She handed him a cookie. “That’s nothing to apologize for.”

By the time they got to high school, the list of names hit unwieldy. Considering how to refine it, Eve took a cookie without thinking. “These are... amazing.”

Mrs. Golde preened. “Family recipe, and you have to be willing to spring for real sugar, and plenty. I’ll give you some to take.”

“Mr. Garber caught him cheating in Global Studies. He got suspended and grounded for it.”

Mal shrugged at Dave. “Yeah, but he didn’t really care. He said it was like hooky with permission.”

“Nobody likes getting caught cheating,” Eve put in, and noted the name down.

“Well, he was a lot more pissed, seriously pissed. Damn it, Ma, sorry.”

“You’re excused, considering the circumstances.”

“It was Ms. Farnsworth, Computer Science.”

“Oh yeah.” Dave nodded. “That burned his... chaps. He flunked. Truth is, though I said I was on his side back then, she gave him like six chances, even worked with him after school, but he didn’t care. He hated her. And when he flunked, he got grounded again, and worse, he had to go to summer school.”

“We ragged on him,” Mal added. “We really rubbed his face in it. Especially Joe. I know there were some instructors when he was in college, before he crapped out. But I don’t know who. I went to NYU, so we didn’t see each other much during the semester.”

“Let’s add an element. He needs money, or things he can liquidate into money. Anyone you’ve mentioned have money, to speak of? Or any sort of valuable collection you know of?”

“Marlene’s making some bucks now. She’s raking it in with the modeling, and I heard the guy she’s with has a pile.” Mal’s face screwed up with thought. “We always figured the Schumakers had the scratch. And if he’s got it against any of us, Joe likes to buy big-deal stuff. He doesn’t keep a lot of money because he blows it on things.”

“He’s a showoff, always was. And he’s got a mean streak.” Mrs. Golde pointed at her son before he could protest.

“He does,” Dave confirmed. “He’s tough to be friends with, when you think about it. Farnsworth,” Dave added, with a grin. “Everybody said she was rolling.”

“That’s right.” Mrs. Golde lifted a finger. “Mostly her dad’s money, if I remember. He died pretty young. And her husband had some, too, and he died in a car wreck about six, seven years back. I remember I sent her a sympathy card. She has money, or had it anyway. She always had nice shoes. Not flashy, but quality. And she donated comp equipment to the school.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mal said.

“She didn’t want to be flashy about it, like the shoes. But I hear things.”

“You got ears like a cat, Ma.”

“Ma ears,” she countered and winked at him. “Goes with the territory.”

“I forgot one. My brother. My big brother, Jim.” Dave scrubbed his hands over his face. “He can’t stand Jerry, never could. Used to call him Fuckweed. Sorry, Mrs. G., but that’s verbatim, you know? Jim’s not rich or anything, but he does okay. He lives in Brooklyn, him and his lady. They’re getting married next year. Jim tuned him up once. Jerry said something ugly about the girl Jim was seeing then. You remember Natalie Sissel, Mal. So, Jim punched his lights out. Just pow, pow, and walked away. It was pretty humiliating because Jim let Jerry throw the first punch, then just rocked him out. Right outside Vinnie’s Pizzeria, so everybody saw it. I’ve gotta talk to Jim.”

Dave sprang up, dragging out his ’link as he hurried into another room.

Looking ill, Mal watched Dave run out. “You really think he’ll try to hurt somebody else, try to do what he did to his parents, to Lori?”

“I think it’s good you’re staying here, looking after your mother. You need to contact me, immediately, if he contacts you, if you see him.”