by Laina Turner
I caught up to Ruth in the frozen food section, an area of the grocery store with which I was quite familiar. Ruth looked up from her groceries with an expression of surprise. I wondered if it was because Ruth didn’t expect to find me here or didn’t want to be caught buying frozen pizza. That could be the kiss of death to some of these ladies in town. I lived for frozen food. Without a microwave and Lean Cuisines, I wouldn’t survive.
“Presley. What a nice surprise,” Ruth said. Nice surprise. Ha! I wasn’t going to fall for that fake nicety.
“Hi, Ruth. I didn’t expect to run into you here.” Two could play this game. “But I am so glad I did, because since our last talk I thought of a few more questions I wanted to ask you. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Yes, I do mind. In case you hadn’t noticed, I am in the middle of shopping, and I have things to do. Better things than to listen to you invade another person’s privacy.”
Knowing all I knew about Bobby and his secrets, I knew Ruth felt she had a lot to hide. I didn’t know why it would bother Ruth to have a gay son in this day and age, even one with a gambling problem. I couldn’t understand why all the women in this town put so much pressure on themselves to have everything perfect. Perfect houses, perfect cooking, perfect kids, the list went on and on. It almost made me feel bad for asking all those questions—for making Ruth feel uncomfortable. Although it wasn’t Ruth’s fault, she had an idealistic image of how everything should be. So what? Bobby had a failed marriage. Not that big of a deal.
“What do you want, Presley?” Ruth asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I had planned to just blurt out that I had heard about Bobby, but knew that would be enough to make Ruth flip, so I decided a softer approach might be better.
“Actually, Ruth, I hoped to get Bobby’s number from you. After I left the library, I thought maybe it would be fun to get together, for old times’ sake.” I didn’t really want to reconnect for fun, but as I said it, it made sense to talk to him. Might as well go right to the source and see what Bobby had to say for himself. I could stay in my mother’s good graces at the same time.
“Oh! I am glad you changed your mind about being too busy. I know Bobby would love to get together. He’s had a rough time of it lately.” She reached into her purse for a pen and a slip of paper.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic since it was clear it made Ruth happy.
“Don’t believe everything you hear. People don’t have anything better to do than to gossip. My Bobby is a good man.” She scribbled down his number and handed me the paper slip.
That’s the pot calling the kettle black, I thought. Most folks would consider Ruth one of the biggest gossips in town.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I said nonchalantly, as if I could not care less. I took the paper and stuffed it in the side compartment of my purse.
“I would hope not. Your mother wouldn’t be happy to learn of you spreading hurtful rumors.”
“Ruth, I am not the one spreading rumors. They’re already out there. I’m just trying to confirm them.”
“Maybe you should spend more time worrying about what’s going on at home than what other people are doing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean there are things going on right under your nose that you should be more concerned about. Now please leave, so I can get on with my shopping.”
I wanted to ask Ruth more, but I knew it was pointless. Besides, I needed to think about what Ruth just said. It made me wonder if it had anything to do with seeing my dad that night, and him not telling the truth about where he was. I had tried to forget about that.
“Well, thanks for the number. Have fun shopping.” I finger waved and made my getaway before Ruth could say anything else.
My car beeped as I pressed the button to unlock it, and I threw my purse over to the passenger seat. As I was starting to get in, out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone who looked like Simon. Squinting, I saw that it was Simon. He was standing next to a black car, (it looked like a Lincoln), talking to someone through the open window. I couldn’t tell who he was talking to and wasn’t about to walk over there. Hmmm…. Interesting place for Simon to be hanging out: the grocery store parking lot.
Chapter 11“Don’t you want to know who killed Senator Daniels, Mother?” I yelled into the phone, frustrated. I had barely left Ruth and the grocery store when my cell phone rang. I tried ignoring it, but knew my mother wouldn’t quit calling until I answered and I didn’t want to shut it off in case Cooper or Dirt called. Now my mother alternated between giving me the third degree about sticking my nose in matters I shouldn’t, and yelling at me for embarrassing her with her friends. Ruth had called my mother the minute I left the frozen food aisle. No big surprise. Not to mention my mom was upset that I hadn’t brought her stuff from Home Depot yet. I didn’t realize my mother was in such dire need of weed killer and Miracle-Gro. I wanted to ask her if she knew anything about Bobby and his gambling problem, not to mention his preference for men, but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. Plus, in a twisted way, I wanted to see the look on her face when I dropped the bombshell about Bobby being gay, so maybe it would be better to wait until we were together.
My phone started beeping, signaling someone else calling in. I looked at the screen and saw that it was Cooper. I planned to call him anyway, so he had timed his call perfectly.
“Mother…Mother!”
“What?”
“I’ve got to go. Cooper’s on the other line.”
“Fine. Avoid me now, but we’re not finished, young lady. What time will you be home?” she demanded.
“I don’t know, Mother. I will call you later.” I hung up and clicked over to Cooper.
“What!”
“Well, I’m happy to hear from you too, King.”
“Don’t even start with me,” I warned. “I just got off the phone with my mother.”
“Ahhh,” he said as if he understood. I didn’t think that likely but wasn’t about to go into it. Like he would care anyway. Before asking why he called, I launched into all the tidbits I had found out. “Listen, I am glad you called. I got some interesting information. Helen Daniels paid me a visit. She confirmed the Senator had a gambling problem and owed some people, some bad people.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Just the kind of people you don’t want to owe. She told me they were blackmailing him.”
“Fuck,” Cooper said under his breath. “Why the hell didn’t he tell me this? I knew he had a gambling problem in the past and this doesn’t surprise me, but he had to have known he was getting in over his head. He paid me to keep him safe. Which is pretty damn hard to do when I don’t know everything and everyone I need to keep him safe from.”
“That’s not all. Now they’re trying to blackmail Helen for the money, according to her. And Cooper, it’s not your fault. The Senator made the choice not to tell you. You couldn’t help that. Let’s fix it by finding out who killed the Senator and why.”
“We don’t need to fix anything, Pres. You need to stay out of it, and I need to fix it.”
Whatever, I thought. He must not know me very well. “Have you heard anything?”
“No, not really,” he said without much conviction. I wasn’t sure I really believed him.
“I just need you to stay out of things, Presley. I can’t worry about what you’re doing and give all my attention to this case. Plus, I still have other jobs I am working on.”
Did he really think I was going to listen to him? He expected me to tell him everything, but didn’t want to share anything in return. Wasn’t that like a man? All take and no give.
“Sure, Cooper,” I replied, rolling my eyes and crossing my fingers. Everyone knew when you said something you didn’t mean it wasn’t lying if you crossed your fingers. That was my out.
“Oh, and since it will probably get back to you anyway, I have something else to
tell you.”
“What?” he asked warily.
With that attitude, he was lucky I was even going to tell him anything. I should just keep it to myself. But I was committed to the greater good. I would tell him because I knew he was probably better equipped to solve this than I was.
“I heard that Bobby Johnson has a gambling problem as well.” I figured Cooper already knew this, so I would act as if I wanted to share to make him think I wanted to help him.
“So? What does he have to do with anything?” Cooper asked skeptically. “I hardly think Senator Daniels and Bobby were pals.”
“I don’t know exactly. I just thought it was out of the norm and might relate to the Senator and his gambling problems. Maybe Bobby and the Senator were connected somehow. Isn’t it sort of odd that in a small town like Alkon there would be two people with gambling problems?”
“Presley, it might sound like a coincidence, but I doubt it’s related, and the Senator is not really from here. And many people have gambling addictions. You would be surprised. Ask your dad sometime. I bet he could tell you a half a dozen people with a problem of some sort. Besides, don’t you think it would be a stretch that they would be traveling in the same circles?”
“Well, maybe gamblers and Mobsters who loan out money to losers who gamble, are tighter circles than we think. Besides Betty told me Mabel Winter’s daughter told her that Bobby saw the Senator there. ”
“Well, if Betty told you…” Cooper said sarcastically.
“Betty’s gossip is always reputable, I will have you know.”
“King, I’m not saying it isn’t, but you have to admit it is far-fetched they would be running with the same crowd.”
I narrowed my eyes and bad thoughts ran through my head about what I wanted to do to him for taking that tone with me. These were not the sexual thoughts I had been having lately either. No, they were strictly the evil type of bad. He was going to regret thinking my information was trivial. He was lucky I told him anything, and I wouldn’t be quite so willing to share next time. I wouldn’t tell him anything else, and he would be sorry when I came up with some fantastic information.
“Pres…,” he asked again.
“Are you going to share and let me work with you?”
“I told you this is not something you need to get involved in.”
“Well, since you don’t need me, I’ll let you go,” I said frostily.
“Please just tell me what is going on,” Cooper sighed.
“Sorry, someone else is calling in.” A lie, but one he couldn’t prove. You always wanted the guy to think you had someone else on the other line. Made you seem more desirable that way. This was what I had been trying to get across to Katy. Plus, I was still mad at him for laughing at me and my information. I would show him.
“Pres, wait a minute.”
“Bye-bye,” I said with fake friendliness, and hung up. I hoped he would call back. It was twisted I know, but I enjoyed trying to decide if I would answer if he called. Five minutes went by and I started to realize he probably wasn’t calling back. Damn, I thought, hanging up might have been a little premature. I never even let him tell me why he called. Not to mention I had wanted to ask him who Simon might have been talking to in the parking lot. Sometimes I let my emotions get the best of me, but he still should have called back. It was supposed to work that way. Everyone knew the girl should play hard to get, and the guy was supposed to suck it up and chase her. It had been that way since the beginning of time. Who was I to mess with that? I had to stop thinking about him because the last thing I needed was to start liking him. Nothing good would come out of that.
I pondered the “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” thing, and wished I understood men better, or wasn’t so bad in relationships, or something. What was wrong with me? I started driving. Eventually I was excited to see the outlet mall in the distance, thinking I would get back on track with my shopping idea from earlier.
I considered myself a pro at spotting shopping a mile away and could sniff out bargains with the best of them. As I drew closer, the excited feeling I got when I was about to discover a new store first, or come across a great deal, washed over me. This mall hadn’t been open the last time I was home. Maybe I would come across some great find and all my friends back in the city would be jealous. Pretty far-fetched, I know. I didn’t need to be spending money, the bill collectors were about one week from calling, but felt it my duty as a professional shopper to check it out. I owed it to the economy and to others who may struggle with being fashionable to be able to take the word back about the new mall and share all the great deals. Not to mention that I always needed to look good and I had been in Alkon longer than I had planned. I needed to freshen up my wardrobe. I knew that wasn’t a healthy way to look at things, but that was a topic for a different day and it would probably take years of therapy to break the habit. I pulled into the mall parking lot and my excitement deflated a little. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the same old run-of-the-mill outlet—the kind with a bargain haircut place, a Chinese fast-food restaurant, and a Starbucks knockoff, called Le Café—not very original. Of course, the fact there wasn’t a real Starbucks here reinforced my decision to live in the city. But wait…squinting, I could vaguely make out a brand all too familiar to me and one I loved beyond…beyond…well, in a way, life itself. The sparkly neon spelled out “Coach.” I looked at my purse and wrinkled up my nose. It was a Prada knock-off, of course—kind of worn and dirty looking. I bought it from a street vendor right after the holidays. I thought maybe a new Coach purse was just what I needed—one that still had the new leather smell. Besides, I deserved a new purse just for having to put up with my mother this weekend. Plus, everyone knew Coach lasted forever. It was an investment in fashion.
I thought I might check out the Chinese place too; I hadn’t eaten since that muffin earlier and my stomach was growling, and fried rice sounded yummy. All this detective work built up an appetite. I walked into the Chinese restaurant, thinking I would grab an eggroll along with my chicken fried rice, to fortify myself for some serious purse shopping, but I stopped short. Sitting in a grimy back booth, (the place didn’t look the cleanest), was Bobby and someone I didn’t recognize. I thought it unlikely that this man was a new boyfriend, if those rumors were true. If I looked in the dictionary under “Mobster,” this man’s picture would be worth a thousand words. First of all, he was Italian. Not to be discriminatory here, but everyone knew that Mobsters were Italian. Anglo-Saxons were more about white-collar crime. They liked to do it behind your back, really sneaky, and then deny, deny, deny. The Italian Mob bosses called it straight out. Piss them off and you got a bullet through the kneecaps—if you were lucky. I admired that in a way. At least you knew where you stood with that style of justice.
The man was also dressed in an impeccable three-piece Italian suit, I assumed, and he looked well off. High quality designer all the way, I could tell from across the room. I would give the man credit for his taste in clothes; I loved a man in a good suit. Someone with that kind of taste couldn’t be all bad. He wore a lot of gold jewelry, somewhat ostentatious, but since it fit with his whole look, I couldn’t knock off points for that. It somehow fit.
I admitted this guy wasn’t bad looking for a Mobster guy, if you liked that type. He was older, maybe around sixty-ish with a full head of black hair and just a hint of silver—the kind of hair that looked distinguished on men, but that women spent hundreds at the salon trying to hide. I couldn’t really tell how tall he was sitting down, but he was solidly built, thick and strong without being fat. Someone who, even on first glance, you knew you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley or in broad daylight for that matter, unless you were his wife, girlfriend, daughter, or priest.
Should I walk up and talk to Bobby? After all, we went to high school together and his mother kept trying to fix us up. I could go up and flirt. Ask him to call me. But knowing what I knew now, I wasn’t sure that would be too succe
ssful. I smirked to myself. I didn’t think I would be the one to change his sexual preference back to women. I was good, but not that good. Just as I decided I would sneak up on them and say hi to Bobby, you know, just to be friendly and figure out who that guy was, my cell rang. Shit! The whole restaurant, which was actually pretty busy considering the traditional lunch hour had already passed, turned and looked at me. I forgot to turn the stupid thing down after turning it all the way up so I could hear it over my car radio. It was pretty loud, and I was sure the special ringtone I had chosen for my mother attracted their attention—“I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones.
Bobby looked up and saw me, but the guy he was with didn’t, which I was sure Bobby was happy about. He obviously wasn’t as curious as the rest of the patrons, and he seemed really intent on eating his Chinese food. It must have been good, the way he focused on eating. A look of recognition, combined with shock, crossed Bobby’s face. He recovered quickly and went right back to his normal blank stare. Incidentally, that was one of the reasons he had always annoyed me: he always seemed to have a stupid look on his face.
He gave a subtle shake of his head, as if to say “don’t come over here.” Even though I really wanted to see what was going on and meet the alleged Mob dude, I knew that if I didn’t call my mother back, she wouldn’t stop hounding me. So I decided to give Bobby his wish, though he was nuts if he thought I wouldn’t be finding him later. He was going to tell me what was going on. I didn’t care what Cooper thought about the Bobby and Tobey connection. My gut told me that the fact that both Bobby and the Senator had a gambling problem—and were in Vegas at the same time—meant something. Putting Tobey in the mix just added all the more reason there just had to be something there.
I backed out of the restaurant, phone in hand, embarrassed because everyone was staring at me. You would have thought it was a four star restaurant they way they glared at me. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but I still felt it. I walked back to my car, engaged in another no-win conversation. And, she wondered why I didn’t call home often enough. To get my mother off the phone, I promised her more yard work. After I hung up, I decided to sit in my car and wait for Bobby to come out. Forgoing my Coach purse shopping was no great sacrifice; once I got close enough to the store sign, I saw that it said “Goach.” I should’ve known there wouldn’t be a genuine Coach store out here. As disappointed as I was, my bank account would remain happy. Waiting for Bobby to come out of the restaurant and talk to him to find out who that guy was seemed like a better plan. I was prepared to wait as long as it took. So, to be productive and pass the time, I cleaned out my purse. It was a jumbled mess and I could never find anything in it. I had a bad habit of shoving everything in there. Amazing what a person collects in their purse, I thought to myself as I pulled out gum wrappers, a half eaten candy bar (which would come in handy since I never got anything to eat at the Chinese restaurant and was starving), a past due bill that better find a mailbox soon, and a bunch of other junk. I filed my nails, ate the candy, and started to play Twenty Questions, which was a very boring game when played alone. It wasn’t much of a challenge.