Floodlight

by Reba Birmingham

  “I don’t understand. What pictures?” Mitzi leaned in closer, voice dramatically scandalized. She was just like the pre-griffin Mitzi; my heart pinged.

  Valerie sat down next to Mitzi. “First, there was a great one of Linda Chicolet and Dick Mortimer in an intimate embrace in his office.”

  “Shut up!” Mitzi put down her cup. “But why would the cops care?”

  Juniper said, “There was another of Councilman Smithers meeting with your lovely, across-the-street neighbor and star witness. Seems there is some relationship between them.”

  Mitzi looked puzzled, and I reminded her about the dug-up yard and Pott’s obsession with pinning a crime on me and Juniper.

  I said, “The star witness to your murder?”

  Mitzi looked stunned. “My murder, wow.” After a beat, she said, “Whoa, a conspiracy?” Now her grin was wide.

  “Yes, indeed. Apparently Gary Smithers’ assistant threw him under the bus when confronted with phone records showing he was the go-between to set you all up.”

  Mitzi shook her head in amazement. “Who’s been working on all this?”

  “Alex, Fiona, and Fiona’s men. Her guys have been here all along while we flew halfway around the world. She’s planning a terrific exposé. Everyone’s scrambling to be on the right side of the floodlight.” Juniper always had a good sense for the social impact of events.

  “Including the mayor?” I asked.

  “Oh you know him. By the time he announces various resignations, it’ll probably all have been his idea,” Juniper said.

  We all nodded and laughed. “So no charges?”

  “Let’s just say Detective Potts decided to ‘quit digging’ at us last night after having a few dots connected for him.” Juniper looked like the cat that ate the cream. Speaking of cats.

  Ekk was talking to Brutus again.

  “Don’t hold out on us, Ekk. What does he have to say?” I grinned, this was just getting better and better.

  “Lots of complaining, but the summary is, he’s glad you’re home. Don’t leave again.” The awww moment only lasted while we drained our tea, then Juniper stood up and announced. “Off to the museum, for what promises to be a very interesting board meeting.” The girls let themselves out. Suddenly, the kitchen was quiet.

  Ekk wandered off to nap with Elsa, and I was left alone, finally, with my wife. “Mitzi,” I said. She took my tea cup, put it down, and took me by the hand into the living room.

  “I’m so worried about—”

  She put a finger over my lips and snuggled into me on the couch. I had so many questions. The phone rang.

  “Don’t you dare answer it.” I didn’t.

  In the background, I heard my sister Puddles’ worried voice. “Sis? CNN, really? What the heck? Call me.” Click. My brother, in the same country as me, probably didn’t know what had happened. Funny my sister in India would hear about it first. I would email her later. Right now I was on my own couch, sitting with my wife—the phone rang again. In the kitchen, I heard Elsa’s voice. Elsa, the elf. “Hi, Babs.” Short nap.

  “So much for returning to normal,” I whispered into Mitzi’s ear.

  Mitzi and I just looked at each other and shared a giggle. I hadn’t thought about the tax practice in days. This was probably progress.

  “Ohh, I’ll be right over. Ekk!” She came into the living room with her rosy cheeks, looking for her little bag. “Babs found out I do caregiving.”

  “Um, aren’t you afraid someone would wonder who is answering our phone?” I asked Elsa.

  She reddened. “I knew who it was.”

  I gestured with my left arm in a why/how?

  “It’s a Hercynian Garden thing,” she answered,

  Mitzi pulled my arm tighter around her shoulders. “Yeah, get with it, Panda.”

  “Babs needs some help with her dad. Ekk and I are going over for a few hours. Ekk!”

  I heard him coming down our stairs, looking a little grumpy.

  “Hey, I have questions, you two.”

  “Later, Panda. I have a feeling it’s time for the two of you to have some alone time.” Ekk was more sensitive than I’d given him credit for. “We’ll be back later, and there will be plenty of time to talk.”

  After a moment of just sitting and staring at each other, I said, “So, your dad is a mythical creature from a magic realm.” We just cracked up at that.

  “Yes, and you have a magic pendant.”

  “You can fly.”

  “Only sometimes.” She nestled into my arm and started to fall asleep after a time.

  After the elves left, vanished more like it, she said, “Babe?”

  “What?”

  “I’m worried about the office. And Lulu.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, now. Hope Lulu’s okay, she was left at the office with the jiujitsu boys attacking.”

  My eyes searched hers. “I hate to leave so soon.”

  “I’m fine,” Mitzi assured me. “I actually would like to soak in the tub a bit.”

  Feeling torn, I left for Fowler Tax Services.

  Chapter Ten

  I DROVE MY smart car down Thistle Drive, and the normalcy felt surreal. The last few days had been a dream, right? Baden Baden? Griffins? I literally shook my head. Turning into the parking lot of our strip mall took away all doubt. My windows were boarded up, and there were five or six buff-looking men repairing them. I turned my gaze toward the Brazilian jiujitsu place and saw it was the source of all the activity. Curious, I went there first, not sure if I would be attacked again, but nothing would surprise me now. The martial arts studio was three of my offices wide. The door was painted red, and a chime went off as I opened it. There were mats from wall to wall and mirrors around the room. Gi-clad fighters paired off into groups and were going at it. My adrenaline surged, but no one gave me a look past a quick discernment to see if I was friend or foe.

  At the far corner was one of last night’s zombie attackers, with his bald head down, working on some papers. I stopped before him. “You’re the boss?”

  This man, who had looked so crazed the night before, fixed me with calm blue eyes. “Yes. You want to start working out?”

  “No. I mean, not right now. Are those your men repairing my office?”

  “Oh, you must be P. Fowler,” he said. “I got your envelope full of cash, and I gotta say I really appreciate the work for some of my guys. They should be finished soon.”

  “You do martial arts...and construction?”

  He looked puzzled. “I thought you knew. We have several groups that meet here. One is for rehabilitation from drugs and gangs. These guys need the work.”

  I nodded. “Oh, right.” What a quick study I am. “Who brought you the envelope?”

  “The lawyer. The one on TV sometimes? She was really nice.”

  “Well, thanks,” I said, backing away.

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but a call of “Sensei!” drew him away with a nod and an “excuse me.”

  There was no sense of danger here, and it was obvious no one remembered what had happened the night before.

  I left the jiujitsu place and wandered over to my office. “Hi, guys.” I pulled out my ring of keys. There was a red-headed young man with unfortunate skin, a kid with what I call “skateboard hair,” and another with carefully shaved sides of his head and a tight T-shirt. He appeared to be in charge.

  He spoke first. “This must be your office, huh? What the hell happened here? Looks like a freight train hit it.” His helpers laughed unconcerned boy laughs, friendly.

  “Long story. I’ll just go on in. Carry on.” My smile was one I hoped would convince these guys this was just another day. It was clear they had no recollection that the last time they were here these same folks were attacking my windows like zombies. Again, no tingle of recognition.

  The inside of the office wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it looked immaculate. I went to my desk and looked under it. Noth
ing but a recently dusted floor and my metal trash can. No elf hole. I turned to go into the tiny kitchen, and Ekk appeared in the doorway with his sleeves rolled up and a couple of paper towels strategically tucked into his outfit. “Ekk!”

  “Panda!” he parroted, his blue eyes twinkling.

  “I thought you went with Elsa to Babs and Henry’s.”

  “She dropped me here. We each have our specialties.”

  I looked around meaningfully at the source of my income, noting the neat stacks of papers. I reached down and tried to hug the little guy. It was awkward, so I just said, “Thank you.”

  He blushed a little and turned to pour us some coffee. Over his shoulder, he said, “You might want to look at the Fabishes’ return. I found another deduction.”

  “No way, Ekk. I went over that thing twice.” I absently reached for my pendant, which had become my touchstone in recent days. “Damn,” I said under my breath. “Must have left it in that envelope at home.”

  Ekk looked up, now spreading out paperwork for me to see. “Left what?”

  “My pendant. No worries, I’ll get it later.” Then we talked about work and the clients, which always calmed me down and put me back to balance. “Have you seen Lulu?”

  “She wasn’t here when I got here. That’s all I know.” I sat and thought about that.

  MEANWHILE, BACK IN Baden Baden, Wolfrum turned a pendant in his pale hands as Odilia entered. He looked dejected.

  “Wolf, what now?”

  He fixed his hollow gaze on her and silently motioned for her to sit by him at the window of his turret.

  “It wasn’t a one hundred percent win, was it?” she asked.

  “Sister, dear, they think they’ve beaten us down into the earth. What they don’t know is that we are seeds. In fact, everything went as planned.”

  Odilia’s face lit with excitement. “Tell me more.”

  He held up the pendant that started to glow with a cold blue light. In it, she could see tiny creatures, like ants scrambling around in the roots of a tree, except they were octopus limbs, and the ants were tiny people.

  The necklace and chain floated free of his milky white hand, suspended in the middle of the small chamber. He gestured and magically lowered it into a velvet-lined case that snapped shut of its own accord. “All in due time, my dear. All in due time.”

  Then, he did what had happened only twice before in Odilia’s long lifetime: he smiled.

  BEFORE HEADING TO the museum for the board meeting, Juniper turned her Citroen into the driveway of her nemesis, Dick Mortimer. Her new, post-exposé-pictures best friend and supporter, Beatrice Vanderhooven-Mortimer, floated out, matching the European car in elegance. It may seem fast, but they had a shared enemy in Linda Chicolet. They were soon joined by Charlotte Windingle, Bea’s childhood friend, for what promised to be an exciting board meeting. “Hello, Juniper,” both women said.

  “Thank you for coming to support me. I know this is hard.” Juniper leaned over and gave the larger woman a hug.

  Beatrice looked sad, actually quite deflated, and Juniper felt a pang of regret for asking her to attend the meeting. Charlotte Windingle must have felt the same way, for she said, “Bea, it’s okay, honey, you don’t have to come.”

  The woman sniffled into a perfumed hankie. “I just can’t believe Dick would do this to me! He didn’t even come home last night.” She started to wail. “The police are on their way over.”

  This wasn’t going as planned. Although initially it seemed Mrs. Mortimer could be Juniper’s strongest ally, she apparently really loved her spineless cheat of a husband. Juniper fleetingly glanced at her retro watch and said, “Charlotte’s right. We’ll be fine just knowing you support me as curator of the museum. I don’t want to destroy Dick. He really does believe in the mission. We just have different ideas of how to get there.”

  Beatrice straightened her dress and dabbed her eyes. “Well, if you think so.” Blanca, who was trailing her mistress, gave a sharp bark.

  “Absolutely. Where is Dick staying?”

  This caused another round of tears, and time was growing short. Bea’s mascara was starting to run. “He...he’s probably down at the Yacht Club, and everyone knows what happened. I was the member there. He’s only a member because of me.” The floodgates opened. It was hard to know what was worse to Beatrice Vanderhooven-Mortimer—the actual adultery or the fact that her set might be talking about it behind her back. Either way, she was suffering.

  In an utterly selfless moment, Juniper looked at Charlotte, and the two exchanged the same thought. “I’m going to stay with you, Bea,” Charlotte said. “Let’s go get real drunk.”

  Beatrice let herself be led back into her beautiful home. After hugs and goodbyes, Juniper arrived ten minutes late, and alone, at the museum.

  AFTER RECEIVING AN epic ass-chewing by the squad commander, Detective Potts found his coworkers wasted no time with their jabs. The Detective “Putz” comment was making the rounds, and the press conference YouTube video had gone viral. Walking slowly to his desk, he was thinking it might be time to hang it up. Thirty-four years of hard work had come down to this, being made a laughing stock. God, he wanted a cigarette. Imagine his surprise to see the dapper defense attorney, Alexandra Stephanovsky, waiting for him by his cubicle.

  “Come to piss on my grave?”

  “Of course not. I came to give you a spade so you could dig yourself out.”

  “Too late for that, lady. It’s over. Wanna drink?” He motioned to his deep desk drawer.

  She shook her head. “Let’s go outside so we can talk, and you can smoke one of your nasty cigarettes.” She patted him on the pocket. “I may even join you.”

  “Oh, so you’re a secret smoker, eh?” His eyebrows lifted.

  “You don’t tell anybody, and I won’t tell you’re cavorting with the enemy.”

  “Deal.”

  The two old enemies trudged upstairs to the precinct rooftop, past the newly remodeled floor for the bigwigs on city council, and up to privacy.

  He took an American Spirit out of the pack, gave one to Alex, and lit them. After taking a long drag, he said, “What’s this all about? Last night I was a putz.”

  She looked so elegant, the smoke curled around her like part of her outfit. She smiled. “That was last night.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The real story here, the people who set everybody up, are on the floor we just passed.”

  “And we’re done.” Potts crushed out his butt on the roof edge.

  “Charles, wait.” She caught his arm. “Hear me out.” The use of his first name stopped him short. He got a whiff of expensive perfume.

  “When I was called into this mess, it was to defend Valerie Gooden. After interviewing the neighbors and others, it’s clear that Councilman Gary Smithers was behind all this.”

  He shook his head. “Old news. His staff gave him up. He’s probably going to resign today—he’s toast. That old biddy across the street from the tax chick was his cousin or something. What else you got?”

  He looked pleased to know more than she probably expected.

  “How about this. Fiona Castlebaum embarrassed the mayor and put a floodlight on the problems Merryville has.”

  “Yeah, cats and bums, so what? Every city has that. Big deal.” He lit another cigarette, a sign he was still listening.

  “And, there’s been a concerted effort to remove Juniper Gooden as curator of the museum. Don’t you see it? When Mitzi Fowler ‘disappeared,’ you were used to go after the Goodens and the Fowlers. Then, when that plan didn’t work, they made you the fall guy.”

  The wind blew evenly on the roof, lazily lifting the ragged edge of Potts’s haircut. His wheels turned. “Connect the dots for me.”

  “I’ve read and re-read the search warrant for the Fowler house. It says an anonymous call provided the info.”

  “Yeah, that happens.”

  “Why you? And why the Fowlers?”

&nb
sp; He smacked his head, suddenly interested in life again. “Excuse me, but I have some digging to do. And, thanks.”

  “Charles?”

  “Charlie please, but anything’s better than Putz.” They shared a laugh.

  She reddened. “I’ll take you up on that drink sometime, just someplace a little”—she looked around dramatically at the rusting air conditioner on the top of the building—“more suited to my status as queen of the defense bar.”

  He smiled, feeling better than he had in weeks. “Okay, but you realize that if I still had a reputation, this could ruin it.”

  She laughed and reached for another cigarette. “You go first. We wouldn’t want people talking, now would we?”

  Potts nodded then ran down the stairs like he was twenty years younger.

  The first thing he did was follow up on the loose ends of the case. He’d been so busy licking his wounds, he hadn’t done his usual tight work. Interesting thing, there was no record of the anonymous call that sent him on a fool’s errand to dig up the backyard of the Fowler house. That could only mean one thing; the call came from inside the precinct.

  BACK AT THE Fowlers, Mitzi luxuriated in the bath. Lavender scented the water, and she closed her eyes. Her body was not her own anymore. Wings! It was the first time things were calm enough to think of it. She had wings. Her soapy hand felt her shoulder nodules for the thousandth time. She also had a father. Tears loosed from her lids and spilled down her face. Between the two things, it meant more to her to have a father. Her eyes popped open. So much had happened, she had given no thought to Susan. Was she home yet? Did she ever recover her ability to speak? The weirdness factor was overwhelming. She heard a door open below and called out, “Panda, are you home?” There was no response. She started the process of draining her bath.