by Beth Flynn
Vince met Delia at Smitty’s after work and she seemed exceptionally quiet. He asked if everything was okay and she told him everything was fine.
She was relieved when he got up to shoot some pool. She sipped her beer and thought back to earlier that day, when the scary guy came into her shop. She recalled the specific instructions he gave her, somewhere between telling her he wanted Ginny and tossing that disgusting bag at her. It was a blur, but she remembered most of it.
He wouldn’t tell her a specific day. He wouldn’t tell her when or where, but he was adamant about how it would play out. She recalled his instructions with a shiver.
“One day very soon, she won’t come home. You won’t panic. You’ll act casual about it with your husband. You’ll tell him you had an argument with her and she’s probably mad and at a friend’s.”
“He won’t believe it. She never argues. She’s an easy kid. Never gives us trouble. And she really doesn’t have any friends. Just some acquaintances.”
“Then you make up something he will believe.”
“I just don’t see how—”
“Do it!” He slammed his fist down on the counter, startling her and causing her to shake. “You will do it and you will be convincing. And when Vince isn’t around, you’ll go into her room and pack up just a few things that she might take with her, and you’ll take them down to Miami and toss them in a dumpster. You’ll refuse to call the police for a few days because you are certain she’s just blowing off steam.”
“But it’s not like her! Vince will never believe it.”
He reached over the counter and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close to his face. “You’ll make him believe it. Maybe it’ll be easier for you to come up with something if your life depends on it.”
He shoved her back just as quickly as he grabbed her and she almost stumbled.
Now, Delia took a sip of her beer and sighed as she remembered what came next. She remembered fighting nausea after she realized the guy knew the reason behind Johnny Tillman’s attack on Ginny more than a year earlier. After he walked out, she ran to the restroom and threw up. She tossed the baggie in a dumpster behind Lulu’s. She didn’t doubt for a second that this guy would make good on his threats.
She was going to have to let him have Ginny.
Downing the rest of her beer, she slapped the bottle back on the bar with more force than she’d intended. Great. This was just great. Not only would she be down a daughter, but she was going to have to start taking care of the house, the cooking, all of it. Dammit.
But Delia did handle it. It wasn’t as hard as she’d initially thought. Vince was too drunk to notice the first night that she didn’t come home. When he asked if Ginny needed a ride to the bus stop the next morning, Delia made something up about her wanting to get to school early.
“Did she get a ride? Did Matthew pick her up?” Vince asked.
She wasn’t sure how to answer. If Matthew was questioned later, she didn’t want to get caught in a lie. She didn’t have to answer.
“Dammit, Delia! One of your effing cats took a piss in my shoe!”
It wasn’t until Sunday night that Vince realized something was off.
“Where is Gin? I haven’t seen her all weekend,” Vince asked in a drunken stupor. He was inebriated, as was his habit, but not too plastered to realize there was a sink full of dirty dishes, the cats were howling to be fed and he had no clean work shirts for the next day.
It was then that Delia put on the performance of her life. Afterwards, Vince said, “Shouldn’t we call the police? Report her as a runaway? Something?”
“What are they going to do?” Delia countered. “She’ll come home when she’s ready. She’s a smart girl. She probably had this planned for a while.”
He didn’t put up any resistance. This is easier than I imagined, Delia told herself. Maybe she is better off with that guy. Good luck, Ginny, wherever you are.
She took a drag on her joint, swallowed the last of the warm beer in the can she was holding and decided that she would take the cats to the pound first thing in the morning. She had no interest in caring for them.
Chapter Forty-Six
2000
Tommy watched Ginny as she absorbed all he had told her. At least what he knew. He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough.
“So you didn’t tell me everything Sunday,” she said as she looked at her lap.
“No, honey. I didn’t get a chance to. You got so mad.”
“I mean, when you said Grizz told Delia he was going to take me, I could believe it. You know, that was Grizz. He never asked. He just did what he wanted. But the other stuff.” She looked over at him then, her voice very small. “Delia and Vince knew Johnny Tillman would be coming to the house that night? They knew and stayed away on purpose? Why?” Her eyes began to brim with tears.
He took a big breath. He’d promised her he would tell her everything. This was really going to hurt.
“It was connected to that police report, Gin. Do you remember about two months before Johnny Tillman came around? When the police were at your house?”
“Yes, I called them. I called them because of Donny Marcus, that little boy I babysat for. Delia told me to mind my own business, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t stand knowing what his father was doing to him and then how he was putting on this face for the public. ‘Steven Marcus. The trustworthy and honest face of the city,’” she said in a mocking tone. “He was the lowest form of a human being.”
Ginny remembered thinking Mr. Marcus was the perfect husband and father, a true gentleman. He’d always insisted on picking her up and driving her home, even though she’d offered to ride her bike. The Marcuses seemed like a nice family and always paid her well for taking care of their son. Donny was always in his pajamas when Ginny would arrive. She would play with him and read to him. They would make a special dessert together, and after he brushed his teeth, she would tuck him into bed with a kiss on the forehead. She even taught him to say a goodnight prayer. She loved babysitting for him. Donny was part of a family that was the epitome of her dream. She cherished doling out the love and attention she had never received as a child. She wondered more than once if she would be a good mother one day.
She knew something was wrong the night Donny spilled some of his hot chocolate on his pajamas and wouldn’t let Ginny change him. He’d started squirming and saying he could sleep in his chocolate-stained PJs and that his mommy would change them when she got home.
It was then Ginny realized she’d never been asked to bathe him or get him ready for bed. He was always in his long-sleeved pajamas when she arrived, regardless of the time. Was he hiding something?
She shouldn’t have done it. She should’ve minded her own business, but her suspicions nagged at her. She knew he was a heavy sleeper since his mother insisted he wear a diaper to bed because he would never wake up, even after wetting himself. So after Donny fell asleep that night , she carefully unbuttoned the front of his pajama shirt. She cringed when she saw the bruises. Some fresh, some older. She slowly pulled his arm out of the sleeve as she rolled his tiny body to one side. She gasped and covered her mouth when she saw his back. There were no bruises there. Rather, there were scars. From lashes. Some faded, some still red. This child was being horribly abused.
She changed his shirt, and when she rolled him back and was buttoning it closed, she looked at his face. His eyes were wide open. He’d been watching her.
“Who hurts you?” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything at first, so she repeated the question.
“Daddy,” he answered.
“Does Mommy hurt you, too?”
“No. She doesn’t like when he does it. One time she cried, so Daddy hurt her, too. She doesn’t cry anymore.” After a pause, the child added, “He’ll get mad if I’m not wearing my same pajamas when he comes home.”
She couldn’t stand the thought of subjecting the child to another beating. She quickly rin
sed his pajamas out where they had been stained and stood in front of the dryer, tapping her foot against the tile floor waiting for them to dry. She had dressed him in his old pajamas ten minutes before his parents walked through the door.
Ginny shivered at the memory. She shook her head.
“Well,” Tommy said, “Grizz knew about your call to the police. He checked into this Marcus guy. He was a politician. He must have had some serious dirt on your mother or Vince. He must have made some kind of threats. Your mother and stepfather knew Johnny Tillman from Smitty’s. She couldn’t get you to stop pushing, so she convinced Johnny to come to the house to teach you a lesson. Guess she figured you’d forget about Marcus if you had your own trauma to deal with. You know how you were back then, Gin. Knowing you, you weren’t going to let it drop.”
“I didn’t let it drop.” Her eyes flashed. “I was causing as much trouble as I could. I talked to Donny’s teacher. I told the principal at his school. I talked to his neighbors. Nobody would do anything. I kept calling the police to see if anybody checked out my report. Nobody did anything, Tommy. Nobody cared!” She looked over at him then. “I even threatened to go to the newspaper.”
She sat back in her chair and sighed. “I was going to go to the newspaper and Delia was super mad at me. Told me she was going to kick me out if I stirred up trouble. I never got the chance.” She buried her head in her hands, remembering it all now. “Johnny Tillman showed up a day or so later and tried to rape me.”
Tommy watched her, his heart aching. “Grizz already knew about your call to the police and that Marcus was abusing his kid. I don’t think he knew at that time that Marcus threatened Delia to get you to shut up, and that Delia somehow convinced Tillman to show up at your house. I think she may have promised him some weed. Anyway, Tillman told Grizz everything.”
“Delia and Vince didn’t just know about it? They actually sent him to do that to me?” she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“I don’t know how much your stepfather was involved or knew. And I don’t know what Marcus had on your mother, but it had to be more than a stupid home-grown pot business.”
“I remember the night Vince and Delia showed up after Johnny attacked me. I remember Delia’s reluctance to call the police. At first, I thought it was because she didn’t want them to snoop around and find her pot. I remember Vince being drunk, but he also pushed Delia to call the cops. I swear she wouldn’t have if Vince didn’t insist. He’s also the one who identified Tillman. Delia was tightlipped.” She pinched her brow. “Now I know why. If they found Tillman, he would’ve probably told them she’s the one that sent him.”
Ginny didn’t say anything for a long time. She just kept staring at her lap. “And Mr. Marcus?” she asked finally. “What did Grizz do to him? I know their family moved away after the Johnny Tillman thing. Did Grizz have him killed or tortured or something? He had to have done something.”
Tommy wouldn’t look at her. This was one of those things that, even though she’d asked, he knew she wouldn’t want details about. “Let’s just say Grizz didn’t kill him. But I can tell you with certainty that Marcus never hurt his son again. You don’t need to know why or how I know that. Trust me on this. Okay, Ginny?”
She gritted her teeth, nodding. “Did Grizz ever find out what it was that Mr. Marcus had on Delia? What was such a big deal that she would set up my rape?”
“If Grizz did know, Gin, he took it to the grave with him.”
The conversation was interrupted when they heard a vehicle pulling into the driveway in the front of the house. Ginny went inside and Tommy followed her. They watched as two men approached the front door. Ginny recognized the vehicle.
“What are they doing here?” Tommy asked.
“They’re here for Carter’s alligator. They were supposed to come yesterday but never made it,” she answered him over her shoulder as she approached the front door.
“What alligator?”
“The one in the master bathtub.” She opened the front door. “Right this way, gentlemen,” she said, as she stepped aside and gestured toward the master bedroom. “Right through there. You’ll find him in the tub.”
“Gin,” Tommy said. “I used Carter’s bathroom while you were taking a shower this morning. I think I would have noticed an alligator in the tub.”
“What?” She almost choked. “He’s not in the tub? He was there before that! I fed him first thing before I got my shower while you were making coffee.”
The two men had made their way through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. They were coming out now, shaking their heads.
“There ain’t no gator in the tub, ma’am,” the taller one said.
It didn’t take too long for the four of them to find the alligator. Richard Pepperbloom had made himself comfortable underneath the hutch in the dining room. Ginny was relieved he hadn’t gone after her or Tommy, or escaped into the yard. He probably would have eaten one of Carter’s animals.
“Good luck, Richard Pepperbloom,” she said as she waved to the two men who left in the unmarked truck. The alligator was actually being relocated to a reptile farm that was privately owned by a couple who cared for them as pets. Ginny didn’t know if this was legal or not, and she didn’t ask.
“How did Carter end up with an alligator, and where did she come up with that name?” Tommy asked as he followed her back outside and on to the deck.
“You know Carter and her nutty animal names.” Ginny shrugged and grinned.
Carter was a collector of both animals and names. She loved giving her animals real people names. There had even been a snooty ostrich that lived at Carter’s for a while. Ginny smiled when she remembered telling Carter about her first fake driver’s license and how Carter thought Priscilla Celery would be a perfect name for the prissy ostrich.
“Carter told me some lady who lives in Fort Lauderdale found Richard on her back porch. He had broken through the screened room and was under her patio table. Seems he made his way from the Everglades into the intracoastal and then up her canal. How he made it up a seawall is anybody’s guess.” Ginny took a long sip of her iced tea and settled herself in the Adirondack chair.
“So, Grizz was your father,” she said, almost conversationally. “Did you always know?”
Tommy had been drinking his water and paused, setting the glass down on the table between their chairs. He’d been answering her questions as best he could, even though she was jumping around a little bit. This one caught him off guard.
“No, I didn’t always know,” he answered honestly.
“How did you find out?” she asked, looking over at him. She took another sip of her tea. She wasn’t really tasting it. It was warm now. It had been sitting on the back deck during the alligator incident. She just wanted something to do, something to occupy her hands. Something to keep her from going off the deep end.
“I suspected it during the trial,” he answered, gazing out over the yard. Before she could ask him, he quickly added, “I’d always thought Grizz might’ve been my older brother, not Blue. But I never guessed he was my father. Never, Ginny.”
He looked over at her then.
“Tell me,” was all she said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
1987
Tommy sat in the back of the courtroom and watched the proceedings. Grizz had given him one job. He was adamant about it. Tommy had agreed, and so there was never a problem. It was absolutely imperative that Ginny be kept away from the courtroom. He didn’t want her there for any reason.
He and Grizz had been discussing it earlier while on a break. They were alone in one of the conference rooms. It had no windows and no doors. A police officer was stationed right outside as they talked.
“She asks me about the trial every day, Grizz,” he told him. “I have to tell her some things.”
“That’s fine. Tell her some things. But I don’t need to tell you what things I don’t want her to know about.”
“Of course I know that. And I’m doing my best. It’s not easy, though. She’s tried more than once to find someone to take care of Mimi so she can be here. I’ve pleaded with every friend we have to not make themselves available to babysit. I’ve told them it’s for Ginny’s own good that she isn’t here. They’ve all agreed, and she won’t leave Mimi with a stranger, so it hasn’t been a problem. But she does grill me when I get home.”
He sighed. Truth be told, Ginny seeing the parade of crimes that Grizz was being accused of would’ve only helped Tommy. But he’d given up that course of action years ago.
They hadn’t been intimate, but she was lying next to him every night. At least that was progress. He’d started out sleeping in their guest room. He’d been awakened one night by her screams. She had been having a nightmare, and he went to her and held her all night, promising he would be there to hold and protect her while she slept. That was how he’d started sleeping next to her. He never once made an advance or touched her inappropriately. He would wait. Technically he was sleeping with her. But that was all he was doing.
“So how is it going with her?” Grizz asked finally. “Are you sleeping with her?”
Tommy sat upright at the question. This wasn’t an easy subject for Grizz. Tommy could see the vein pulsing in his forehead.
“You know I’m not sleeping with her and you know why.” Grizz didn’t say anything, and Tommy continued, “She’s in love with you. She thinks you’re going to get life and maybe get out on a technicality. She’s waiting for you. She’ll never move on unless you tell her to.”
“I told her to fucking marry someone else,” Grizz growled.
“Yes, you convinced her to marry me so she wouldn’t be alone. So that Mimi would have a father. You convinced her that I love her. That’s good, because I do. But she doesn’t love me.”
“I just want her taken care of until I get this figured out.”
This got Tommy’s attention. He sat up straighter in his chair. “Figure what out? Are you going to beat this rap?”