by Nicole Kurtz
A loud sob caught my attention and I looked away from the fire to Hanson. He was crying and babbling about love and loss. I guess I wasn’t going to get any more answers from him.
I let myself out as Hanson returned from the bar, this time with the bottle, not the glass in his hand.
As I lifted off, I thought about where Amanda went after Hanson’s rejection. If I could find that place, I’d find the crime scene and the person who killed her.
This case was like looking under a rock and seeing all the ugly stuff underneath. Wednesday was waking up and I felt like a fish out of water. I waited outside Mayor Christensen’s house, armed to the teeth with both guns and my sharp tongue. All the major players seemed to act as if an individual life, Amanda’s, didn’t really mean piss. Hanson was only concerned about his job and staying out of the cradle. Amanda’s own mother used her to further her political goals, and her boy friend, Nathan, used her as a stepping stone to cut himself a slice of the Raymen’s Zenith trade.
A stream of golden sunlight was falling across the porch, bathing it in warmth. For perhaps the fourth day in a row, I was up before my usual time of noon. In fact, it was nine o’clock on the nose and I knew that Mayor Christensen was seated in a board meeting right this moment.
I wasn’t here to talk to Mayor Christensen.
The doors slid open and Maria’s face appeared in the open space.
“Hello?” she asked, her eyes darting across to the areas behind me.
“I came alone, Maria,” I said. “I need to speak with you.”
Maria’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “The missus is not here…”
“I know that,” I said, stepping up closer to the open doors. “May I come in?”
“I-I do not think that is a good idea,” she said, drifting back into the house. The doors begin to close. “Come back when the missus is here.”
I shoved my foot between the doors and they opened back up automatically. “I’m here about Amanda, Maria. She’s dead, and I think you can help me.”
She sighed and allowed me to enter the house. Carefully, she locked the doors after one final glance outside the house to make sure Mayor Christensen wasn’t with me.
“You are alone?” she asked as she led the way back to the sitting room.
“Yes,” I said as I sat down on the same sofa as a few days before. “I made sure to check. Mayor Christensen is in a board meeting.”
This seemed to relax her and she took a seat opposite me. Her shiny black hair had been tied back today and she wore an apron over a red dress. In the pockets, dusters and a few well worked toothbrushes could be seen. She didn’t wear any jewelry and I didn’t know if she was married or not.
“What do you want, Miss Lewis?” she asked, her voice soft and somewhat hesitant.
“I want to know about Amanda’s life here at home,” I said, taking out my handheld from my satchel. “I am trying to put together who killed her, but I need to know how she was here.”
Maria shrugged, her face a mixture of confusion and…fear. “I do not know…”
“Please,” I said, putting away the handheld and leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees. Often in wealthy families, the hired help is viewed as part of the furnishings. Maria probably witnessed many things in this house, but Mayor Christensen didn’t even know Maria knew. If Maria were to write a tell-all book about the mayor, Ms. Christensen would be shocked at the details. “This is strictly between you and me. I won’t tell the regulators, Mayor Christensen or anyone. But I must know…”
Maria sighed.
“Miss Christensen, she no like it here,” Maria began, wringing her hands while they lay close to her lap. “She hate it. Always crying in her room. Fight all the time with…with, the older missus Christensen all the time. Missus Christensen yelled at Mandy for smoking and for her drug use. Nothing Mandy ever did was good enough for her momma. Never perfect enough. The great mayor had to keep a…a wholesome image. The governor’s seat and all,” Maria shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “But...but Mandy get a boyfriend. An older man, she tell me, Oh, Maria, he is so awesome and cool. He let me drink wine. We make love on the patio outside with nature all around…”
I smiled for I knew mothers like Mayor Christensen. Their children, especially their daughters, were thought of as extensions of themselves, something to be controlled. When the children reject their ideals, the mothers apply more pressure and dominance. Those types of cases were always messy
Maria’s face took on a dreamy expression as if she too was experiencing Amanda’s joy at having a secret relationship with Hanson. “I tell her to be careful…older man not always good for girl her age. She laugh at me. Says I’m an old maid. She was a good kid.”
Maria’s face became cloudy and dark like an approaching storm blocks out the sun.
“Tell me about the day she went missing,” I said, keeping my voice calm and even. I didn’t want to demand anything from Maria, or rush her. She might leave something important out if I did.
Maria became rigid. Her eyes were miserable and tears gathered at the corners.
“Awful day that day was. Mandy come home, her face streaked with tears and her heart broken. Oh, how she screams at the older missus. She say that her mother don’t love her or want happiness for her. She say that the older missus only care about her career not about her. Oh, the screaming and then and then the missus slaps Mandy hard across her beautiful face…”
Maria broke down into sobs. Her face buried in her hands, I waited. The mayor would be in the meeting for several hours. The board wanted to build a new courthouse and the mayor, trying to curb government spending to look good for the governor’s race was against it.
After a few minutes, Maria collected herself and went on, her eyes staring off into the fire. “Mandy, such a good girl, had so many problems. Father always working. The missus said that she would whip her from here to spring if she breathed a word of her relationship to anyone. Said that it was for Mandy’s own good, and that as her mother she had to step in. Called Mandy a tramp, a whore...”
“Did Amanda flee to her bedroom after the fight with her mother?” I asked, my stomach clinching into a harshly coiled knot.
Maria wiped her eyes and looked at me. “Uh, no. Mandy said she couldn’t stand another day in this house. Called it a hell and a prison. Packed a bunch of her things and left. I think her ride was waiting outside for her because she couldn’t fly. She wasn’t old enough yet.”
“This friend wasn’t the older boyfriend?” I asked, the knot churning around and around in my stomach. This was a big clue and perhaps the final nail in the coffin of this case.
“I don’t think so,” Maria said, but then shrugged. “I do not know. I did not see her leave the house. Only the missus chased her to the doors. I-I was in the service bathroom crying for Mandy. Poor, poor girl…”
“Thank you, Maria. You have been a bigger help than you know,” I said as I stood up to leave, trying to leave the excitement out of my voice. “One more thing. Have you ever met Amanda’s father?”
Maria’s eyes stared at the floor. “I have only heard of him, but I have never seen him. Richard Christensen—he’s always working.”
“He doesn’t live here with the mayor and her daughter?”
“I do not know who comes at the end of the week,” Maria said, her voice low and strained. “Sometimes Missus Christensen has a guest over. A man, I think, but have never seen him. Only uh-leftovers in her bedroom that she had not been alone. Could be Mr. Christensen. Could not be.”
She shrugged.
“How long have you worked for them?” I asked, my eyes carefully watching her, because I had the feeling that Maria was smarter than her broken English conveyed.
“That is two questions over your limit, Miss Lewis,” she said her eyes attaching themselves to me.
So I was right. Her English was perfect, as I guessed. “Right you are. Tell me who you really are, and I’m
gone.”
Maria smiled, but it didn’t seem to be the warm inviting grin of a domestic servant. It was cool and calculated. “You don’t miss much do you?”
“No, not really. I am a private inspector, you know,” I said, my hand on my gun. Not that I thought I would need it, but one could never be too careful.
She noticed my piece and said, “There’s no need for violence. But please, indulge your, uh, theory.”
“You’re a T.A. agent, posing as an undercover maid,” I said. “You’re investigating Mayor Christensen’s link to the Raymen Cartel.”
“Damn, you are good,” Maria said casually, leaning back against the sofa, her posture straighter, her poor-servant act was gone like the embers in a fire. “Trey said you were better than average. Couldn’t ever possess him to go out with me. Now, of course, I see why.”
“Thanks,” I said, sitting back down across from Maria. “So, who are you?”
A genuine smile spread across Maria’s face. “I am Maria Sanchez. I’m here trying to fit the pieces together on how deep the Raymen Cartel’s dirty money goes, while Trey is out hunting down the other loose ends. He and I are partners. That’s all I can tell you, of course. So I can’t tell you about Mandy’s father because I didn’t know him, nor have I ever seen him. In fact, the mayor has nothing in this place that even has his name on it. She never speaks of him, not even when I’m around and I’m beginning to wonder if the man exists at all.”
“Immaculate conception?” I asked with a grin.
Maria snorted. “Hardly. That child was good, like I said. But her mother’s demands would drive anyone to smoke and do zenith.”
“So you have no idea who Richard Christensen is?” I asked. Ha! I knew something the T.A. didn’t know. Score one for Cybil and Jane. The Territory Alliance, zero.
“No,” Maria said and I could tell she was telling me the truth. “I also don’t know who killed the girl. I liked her. I’ve been here for about a year, and Mandy was a good kid. A Zenith addict. Once she started dating this older guy, she’d kept herself clean. For him. Said she loved him and all that. Maybe she did. But the night he dumped her because of her mother’s interference really shattered her.”
“Any idea who the boyfriend was?” I asked, just for giggles.
“None,” Maria said. “But I’m not here to investigate the daughter’s death. Just the Raymen Cartel connection, a bigger fish.”
Wow! Cybil and Jane two. The T.A. Zero.
I reached across the coffee table and shook Maria’s hand. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I liked the kid. Hope you find out who killed her,” Maria said and removed a duster from her apron’s pocket. “Oh, wait a minute.”
She hurried out of the room and through the dining room. Within a few minutes she returned, a little out of breath, her face red. “Here, I found this while cleaning Mandy’s room. I haven’t looked at it but it might help you out.”
I took the cd from her hand and said, “Thanks again, Maria.”
“No problem,” she said. “Just get this bastard. Listen, I gotta get back to work.”
I left the mayor’s mansion with more than a bee in my bonnet. I knew that Maria probably witnessed the night Amanda disappeared, but I had no idea she was an undercover agent until I started listening to her speak. She had her cover down to a science though, and I doubted Mayor Christensen could see past her own nose to the spy in her midst.
I laughed as I climbed into my wauto.
I wasn’t going to tell the mayor about her spy, but I wondered where Amanda went after she left the mansion?
Not wasting any time, I pulled out my handheld, booted it up and loaded the cd. It was indeed Amanda’s diary and the password was easy enough to break. It was Hanson’s name, a secret that only she and Nathan shared.
I skipped ahead and read her entry dated the day she disappeared:
Today the burden of being the only child of the mayor has grown to be too much. Mother only cares for her stupid career. She busted up the good thing Tom and I had. Sticking her nose where it doesn’t supposed to be…again. This is not something new to me, but I still feel the stinging of the slap from her hand. I have dealt with it for too long. She gonna pay for this! I love Tom and she ain’t going to stop me from being with him. What am I trash to her? Something to be thrown out? I hate her! Bitch! I’m nothing to her. Nothing.
I pulled back from the paragraph, my heart aching for Amanda. Where would she go? All of her contacts had deserted her. Hanson broke up with her because he no longer wanted to deal with the secrecy and the payouts. Her mother had selected her campaign over her daughter’s happiness and had belittled her to the point of tears. She didn’t know her father, from what Jane said, the family hadn’t seen Amanda’s father, Richard, aka Jesus, since Amanda was four. Who would she run to when her world was crashing down? Where would she go?
To her best cousin in the whole world, who was more like a sister to her.
That’s who.
Twenty minutes later I entered an opened O’Shea’s bar. It was a little before eleven o’clock in the morning. I met Jane at a table back on the patio. She’d been up when I left to go visit Maria and we agreed to meet at O’Shea’s for breakfast to talk about the case. Katherine was nowhere to be seen, and O’Shea himself waited on us. I ordered a coffee and toast. Jane ordered the same, but with sugar in her coffee. It was a late meeting for her, still very early for me.
“Sugar? This early in the day?” I asked with a small smile on my face.
She nodded, her dreadlocks loose and her face grim. “I finished going through Nathan’s bank reports up until last month. He hasn’t received any additional money from Hanson, only his regulator paychecks. I did, however, move off the bank statement to his credit report and recent purchases. Did you know that computers can check everything you’ve ever purchased?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about it as I remembered my purchase for a red lace teddy which cost too much to be a liner in the bottom of my panty drawer.
“Anyway, he purchased a 2149 EX model aerocycle last month. All paid in full. He has also been buying a lot of expensive clothes; all paid for in SE currency and his shoe buys alone would pay my rent for a year.”
“Where’s he getting that kind of dollars? Dipping into his hush money?” I asked, my stomach growling. O’Shea caught my attention and pointed to the coffee maker brewing fresh java.
“No, I went back over the bank reports. Nothing. He doesn’t withdraw any money,” Jane said. “So I thought maybe he was taking it out before he deposited his check. Nothing doing. His paychecks are all wire-transferred in. So, it’s not like he’s keeping out three hundred dollars and depositing the rest…”
“Then it could only be one of two things,” I said, falling silent as O’Shea brought in our coffee.
“Toast be out in a minute,” he said gruffly and stomped back up to the bar.
I got the feeling he didn’t like being a waiter.
“Either he’s dealing Zenith again, or he’s found a new blackmail victim,” I finished. “We’re going to have to ask your aunt about her relationship with Nathan. But I prefer to catch them together first.”
“What makes you think they’re an item?” Jane asked with a scowl. “You thought she was also with Hanson.”
Okay, true I’d been wrong before, and I’m sure it won’t be the first time. Still, I let the comment pass. Jane caught my look and quickly added, “Not that it wasn’t a good hunch…”
“If you want me to lay it out fine,” I said, placing my right hand out for her to see all five of my fingers. The clump of twisted scarred flesh lopped into the middle of my forearm caught my attention, but I pushed by it. “One,” I held up my index finger. “Nathan ended up on her guest list. Two, he smelled of honeysuckles and mint, your aunt’s favorite perfume, and three, when I asked her about him, she nearly passed out. And four, the Raymen Cartel connection. All I need is five and it counts as a con
spiracy.”
Jane nodded, a smile on her face. “Sure, you got a good argument, but will it cut the mustard? Now, what did you find out with Maria?”
I filled her in on the conversation with Maria, keeping Maria’s role as an undercover agent out for now. Jane didn’t really need to know that, and it added little to our case. The Raymen Cartel was Trey’s and the T.A.’s problem, not mine. Not Jane’s. Unless they killed Amanda, which I doubt they had done. Family is family. Most of cartels didn’t mess with family, unless family messed with them—which it hadn’t in this case.
“…so once Amanda had exhausted all of her family members in Memphis, I wondered who would she turn to next? Not to those who had already betrayed or used her up. Who, Jane would she go to for help?”
I finished the tale and looked at Jane.
Jane’s eyes stared at something behind me. I waited.
O’Shea dropped off a small plate filled with toast. I took out my jar of jalapeño jelly out of my satchel (what did I say about being prepared?) and spread some across a piece of lightly browned toast. I bit into it, tasting its fiery sweetness. Jane sipped her coffee.
After a few minutes, she said, “You’re right, even though you didn’t come right out and say it. Yeah, Mandy called me the night she went missing.”
Of course she did. She’d turned to everyone one else in her family.
“I knew you’d find out,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I wanted to tell you, but there never seemed to be the right time. Really, Cyb, I did.”
I understood that. I really did, but I felt incensed anyway. That night at my apartment instead of slamming Jane with my irritation, I let her deal with it. Guilt would chew away at her, if for some reason her failure to disclose her cousin’s call would make it impossible for us to find her murderer.