Fables & Felonies

by Nellie K Neves

  I set my knife down, crossed my arms and waited. She couldn’t complain, I’d learned the technique from her. Countless times as a teenager I’d tried to ignore her stalemate tactics, but eventually her laser hot gaze always burned through my defenses.

  “What?” She didn’t even sound like my mother. Upon questioning, I would have assumed body snatcher or sleeper spy. Maybe there’s a point in every adult’s life where they realize that once upon a time their mother was just a regular human.

  “You’re hiding something, and I’m waiting for you to tell me what it is.”

  Frustrated with my persistence, she jammed the lid on the roaster and shoved it into the oven. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Lin.”

  “You’re acting like a teenager about to go on a date with her crush. As your daughter, I think I’m entitled to dramatics.”

  She sunk into the chair near the window.

  Defeat.

  Total utter defeat at the hands of her daughter.

  “Layton Granger and I used to date. But it was a long time ago.”

  My eyes nearly tumbled clean out of my head. “Does Dad know?”

  “Of course he knows,” she laughed, but it wasn’t from her heart. “I dated them at the same time.”

  “Mom!” I exclaimed. “You little hussy!”

  “It wasn’t like it is now,” she said. “We weren’t,” she widened her eyes and waved her hands about, “doing that stuff, just a little kissing, in the backseat, up at the peak.”

  I pressed my hands over my ears. “I shouldn’t have asked. That’s my fault. I should’ve stayed quiet.”

  “Oh, don’t be a sissy,” she waved her hand at me, “where do you think you came from?”

  I had scars in my brain from MS, but this whole conversation damaged me in ways I never thought possible.

  “Layton was a total rogue, never paid attention to the rules, always in trouble with the brass. He took me out on a few patrols. I got to ride along on a high-speed chase once.” That glint in her eye was back, and I prayed I never had a daughter who would have to live through this sort of torture with me. “He was reckless and exciting, and I was crazy about him.”

  “So what happened?” I asked. “I mean, obviously you ended up with Dad.”

  “They were best friends, you know? If I ever couldn’t get a hold of Layton, your dad was always around studying for school. We spent a lot of time together. I think that’s really how people fall in love. It’s not chemicals, it’s time and talking. Where Layton was reckless, your father was grounded. It really appealed to me. There came a point where I had to choose, and I chose a stable future where I could raise children and not worry about whether my husband would make it home at the end of the day.”

  It was strange to think my mother had once been in a love triangle. Even stranger that he‘d remained in her life after the break up.

  “You stayed friends though? Wasn’t that awkward?”

  “No, not really. Layton always respected your father. When I made my choice he insisted that we stay on as friends, and that’s what we did.”

  I began chopping again, stewing over her words. “But you’ve lost touch since my teenage years. Was it really because he was a bad influence on me?”

  Her lips pursed and one eyebrow twitched slightly. “Part of it. The bigger part was because Layton came to me when you were about twelve and asked me to run away with him. You and Elle too, but to leave your father and make a new family.”

  The knife slipped. I nearly took off my right index finger.

  “What?”

  “Obviously I told him no.” She brushed the flour from her apron as if she could sweep away the memories. “We laughed about it years later, but your father didn’t find it very funny. They’ve been distant ever since.”

  “So,” I began slowly, “you didn’t tell Dad that your ex-boyfriend who asked you to run off with him is coming to dinner, and you think he’s going to take it in his stride?”

  “Stop being dramatic.” Mom fluffed my lettuce in the bowl. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. You keep working on the salad.”

  I was still reeling when she ducked her head back in. “It’s going to be fine, Lindy. They were good friends back then. It’ll be good to get them together again.”

  For her sake, I hoped she was right.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  His knock came ten minutes early. Maybe Ranger was just as excited to see Mom as she was to see him. As for me, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the awkward dinner date I’d set up.

  “Hey, Lindy Belle, feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

  I let the door fall open to let Ranger in, but with everything I knew and Dad not home, it felt like I was betraying my family. Surely the ranch hand who lets the fox into the hen house bears some responsibility, right?

  “Layton.” My mom stepped through the kitchen door. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Pam,” but it was more than her name. It was years gone by and regrets that life hadn’t turned out differently.

  I kept an eye on the driveway looking for Dad, but didn’t miss the kiss to my mother’s cheek that lingered for 1-2-3 seconds. It may not sound long, but it was. I didn’t have to be a PI to see that all the feelings were still there, especially for Ranger.

  He’d never married, never had kids. Had he really held a flame for my mom all these years?

  I heard the engine and kicked the door shut.

  “Dad’s home.” My voice sounded way too much like an alarm set off by burglars and my mother shot me a harsh glare.

  “Layton, you sit over here. I’ll put Richard here, and then I’ll sit on the other side so we can talk.”

  “You know listening to you is one of my favorite pasttimes, Pammy.”

  My lip curled up without my permission. Pammy? Possibly the worst pet name I’d ever heard.

  “I’m home.” Dad’s voice carried through the crack in the door. “Whose cruiser is that in the driveway? For a second I thought Lindy was a teenager again and she’d…” His voice trailed off as he saw Ranger at his dining room table. The door slammed shut, and the air gelled.

  Mom looked like she might say something but maybe her voice got locked inside her chest like mine because I’d never seen that look on my father’s face before. Not anger, not rage, but contempt, disgust, total betrayal. I felt the need to cower beneath something, get out of the way of the poison he meant to force-feed down Ranger’s throat. Never had I seen my father truly hate anything.

  “Get out.” It was a simple phrase. His lips barely moved. Cold. Calculated. Not like my father at all. After all, he’d even tolerated Amos at his table. “Get out.”

  “Richard,” Ranger began, “don’t you think it’s time we put the past behind us? I mean, it’s been years. I don’t even remember what this fight is about anymore.”

  “Darling.” Mom tried to put her body between the two men. “He’s right. It was a long time ago. I don’t think it’s worth—”

  “You know exactly what this is about, Layton.” Dad spoke over the top of my mother. “Now get out of my house, and stay away from my family.”

  Ranger’s eyes dropped to the carefully folded cloth napkins, traveled over the china that could have been his, and landed on the woman who had turned him down.

  “Whatever you say, Rich.” He stood and paused at my mother’s side. If the room hadn’t been so deathly quiet I might not have heard him whisper in her ear, “I hope you’re happy. That’s all that matters.” He kissed her cheek again, 1-2-3-4, and moved past my father.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, my mother exploded. “Richard! In all our years I’ve never been so embarrassed. I can’t believe you would act that way to a guest in our home.”

  He wasn’t listening. My father took the open wine bottle by the neck, ducked his head, and left for the back rooms. Ranger’s cruiser started up. It dawned on me that in all the drama I’d forgotten my purpose for the dinner.


  My feet echoed against the porch. I took the steps two at a time, nearly falling once I hit the grass.

  “Ranger! Ranger, hold up!” I came around the back of his cruiser and slammed my palm on the back window. The car jerked to a stop.

  “Lindy, what? What is it?”

  “I’m sorry about that.” I jerked the door handle and slipped inside. “I never expected that kind of reaction from my dad. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

  “It’s not your fault. There’s just a lot under our bridge. I’m not sure we’ll ever work through it all.” His head shook for a moment before he asked, “Is that it?”

  “No.” I felt a little guilty for my ulterior motives. “I’ve been watching this club downtown, Club Feugo. I don’t have a lot of hard evidence, but I know they had something to do with Honey B’s death.”

  “Club Feugo?” he asked. “That club has been a hotbed for crime over the last year, but I don’t see the connection between them and Honey B.”

  “I heard them confess it,” I said. “With my own ears. I was investigating, and I heard them say that they ‘took care of Honey B.’”

  “You know we can’t go on something you overheard in a crowded loud club, Lindy Belle.”

  “Maybe just get a warrant, search the office? I’m sure there’s something there.”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Ranger said, “but I need more for a warrant. No judge will give me one based on some girl overhearing something at a club.”

  I considered telling him about the defense attorney, Andrew, but that meant I’d have to tell him I took over Honey B’s job with a fake identity. Gray area or not, some laws weren’t meant to be broken. Besides, I doubted it would do anything.

  “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go down and poke around a little. I’m an old dog, but I’ve still got some teeth. I’ve been by there before, and I can’t ever pin anything on them. I don’t think this is related to the Honey B case, though. Maybe you heard what you wanted because you want your friend to be innocent. They’re shady, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Hallie’s murder. You might have stumbled onto a different case. You’re that good.”

  “Thanks, Ranger.” I set my hand to the door latch and popped the trigger. “Sorry again about Dad.”

  He nodded, but I felt the weight of life on his shoulders. “Look, Lindy, if you or your mom ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re both very special to me.”

  I climbed out of the car more conflicted than ever. Watching him drive away, I let myself wonder how different my life would be if my mom had chosen Ranger. Would I have become a cop? Would Jackie have gotten kidnapped? Maybe having a cop for a father would have kept her safer. What else might have been drastically altered with one decision?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The tapping was slight, like a constant drip from a leaking ceiling.

  It has to be a dream. It made sense because I remembered going to bed, I remembered finally getting some rest for the first time in days, likely because I’d taken two of my mother’s sleeping pills after she told me I looked like death. I swiped at the drip, but there was no wetness, no rain falling on my head, just a gentle giggle.

  I groaned. “Eleanor.”

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” my younger sister said in her most annoying sing song voice.

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven thirty. Mom told me to come see if you were alive.”

  That sounded like her, partially worried, mostly joking.

  “She said you might have OD’d on sleeping pills because Dad went off his rocker last night and you’re supposed to get up for work.”

  A groan accompanied the memory of Ranger and that whole mess. And for what? He wasn’t even willing to help me.

  “I haven’t been sleeping. It’s been a rough time.”

  The bed shook as she jumped over my limp body and landed in the open space next to me. She’d always been energetic, the total opposite to my constantly fatigued and cranky body.

  “Sounds like you need to catch me up.” Eleanor scooped up my extra pillow, only frowning once at the hole I’d ripped in the end, and squashed it in her arms like the teddy bear she used to snuggle. “Start with Ryder, he’s always my favorite part.”

  I had to admit, that was something we could agree on.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I called in sick to work. Elle gave me tips and pointers beforehand. She was a bad liar, but her acting skills made up for it. I doubted they bought any of it, but I didn’t care. I only had to keep the job long enough to break into the file room.

  It took two hours to go through everything. Somewhere in the midst of it Mom brought snacks, but didn’t stay long. We talked and laughed, and I cried, more than I wanted to admit. My parents had done it all wrong. They shouldn’t have led with the cottage built for me, or the ability to help if I fell apart, they should have led with the fact that moving home meant being closer to Elle.

  Through it all she remained riveted, stuck to my every word as if watching her favorite movie unfold. There was even popcorn, thanks to Mom, and only a question or two for clarification along the way.

  I finally came to Amos’ case, and my adventure at the club two nights before.

  “There’s something in that office, but I can’t get in there to find it. If Amos were free, he’d plan a distraction that would require the bouncers to get involved so I’d have a moment to get in. But I’m out of luck with him behind bars.”

  Eleanor scoffed. “Whatevs. I got this.”

  It was my turn to show my skepticism. “You? Miss goody-goody? You’re going to distract the criminals?”

  She crunched a piece of popcorn between her teeth. “It’s not that hard, after all, dear sister, I haven’t had a proper bachelorette party.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Eleanor managed to dig up fourteen friends for what she called a “small party.” Even with two months’ notice I doubted I could find half that many people to celebrate anything in my life. She had always been the social one. It made me wonder where Jackie fit in on our spectrum.

  I let Elle do my makeup and pick my clothes. Instead of Mom’s vintage collection, she dug into her clothes from high school. When I was finally allowed to see myself, mini skirt, strappy heels and sequined tank top, I barely recognized what I saw. Too bad Ryder couldn’t see me. I wasn’t sure if he’d whistle or laugh, but either reaction would’ve been worth it.

  The club was thirty minutes from my parents’ house. I was in charge of one of the cars because Elle knew I’d remain sober. Before we started for the city she tucked two ibuprofen in my hand and gave me a bottle of water. There’s nothing as wonderful as a sister who anticipates your needs.

  We’d decided early not to let the rest of the crew in on our plan. Eleanor swore they could create a distraction without prior knowledge. Her friends were “a bit wild.” Alcohol would only aggravate the situation, which, unfortunately, was exactly what I needed.

  We paid our cover charge, passed by the bouncers, but then it got real blurry. Elle hadn’t exaggerated. Two friends were dancing on the bar within the first five minutes. Drinks were flying, men swarmed the group like felines to catnip. Once or twice I had to peel a stranger’s hands from my body as he took his own liberties dancing with me. My bubble was nonexistent once I was surrounded by her friends, but it still wasn’t enough.

  I motioned to Elle to take it up a notch. She nodded and turned to one of her friends. Within minutes the two of them were on the DJ’s stage, dancing, making fools of themselves. Elle grabbed the head set from the DJ and screamed, “Is this a club or a junior high dance? Let’s make some noise!”

  The entire place erupted in pandemonium as if they had to rise to her challenge. The DJ reached for his headset, but Elle shook her head and danced away, still talking and cheering on the crowd. The DJ turned and caught the eye of the bouncers. It didn’t take them long to take my sister’s hand and pul
l her down. Headset in place, she started screaming, “Help! They’re groping me!”

  My eyes widened. She was better than I’d expected. Though security’s hands remained professional, Eleanor whipped her body back and forth, twisting and writhing in his arms. “No means no!”

  “Get that headset,” one of the largest guards yelled, but it was too late. Men rushed to my sister’s aid, throwing punches, trying to pull her free. Her friends leaped from the bar, the stage, anywhere they could to try to free her. I knew Elle too well. She wasn’t in the least bit of trouble, judging from the near gleeful look in her eye. Leave it to the Johnson girls, we really knew how to up the ante at a party.

  The second set of guards moved from the back room. I made my way through the arches and down the labyrinth of halls that led to the office. I jogged the last stretch, and pulled my lock picking kit from the back of my pants, grateful they’d assumed armed guards were sufficient and hadn’t added a digital lock. The noise from the club continued, the volume escalating with every second. Every now and then the headset caught someone else’s words as they moved close to Elle, but she maintained control, a helpless damsel in distress.

  The door gave way after a second twist, and I slipped inside. I locked the door behind me. There was no window to escape, no place to hide. I had to move quickly because if someone came back, I’d be made.

  The office was small, clearly masculine by the dark colors and lack of art or plants. The desk was massive, spanning almost all of the back wall. A cherry wood chest sat in the corner, as well as an armoire on the opposite side. Knowing the most dirt would be in the desk, that was where I headed first.

  The center drawer was a bust, rulers, pencils, a blank notepad. I pulled open the drawer on the top right and found more office junk, tape, glue, but at the bottom was a six-inch blade, certainly not the typical office letter opener. I pulled open the bottom drawer and rifled through the files. There were the normal expenses, garbage, alcohol vendors, electricity, but near the back there were other files, files only marked by numbers. I opened one and found ledgers, a record of intake and sales. With the numbers in the tens and hundred thousands, I knew I couldn’t be reading the official ledger for the club.