by S. Swan
I rarely made any noise, but when I did, Mr. Johnson banged on his walls or called the superintendent to complain. When I bought a new bed, I banged the wall carrying it up the stairs. The next day I received a noise complaint notice on my door.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Well, he said you’re a strange girl.” Ben made air quotes and laughed. “He said quote: ‘That girl is strange she’s always having conversations with herself.’.” How dare Mr. Johnson gossip about me!
I rolled my eyes. “I meant about last night. What did he say about last night?”
“He said that he heard a man pound on your door and say ‘Police open up.’ Then he heard them breaking down your door.”
“He didn’t come out to investigate?” I asked. Mr. Johnson liked to have his nose in everyone’s business. It would pleasure him to be in the middle of a police investigation.
“According to him, he did open his door and was told by a mean looking cop to go inside and shut his door. He obeyed.”
“Cops did this?” I looked around my trashed apartment. “All of it?”
“It looks like a police search was done on your place.” Ben gestured. “Every inch of this place has been explored. Only cops are this thorough.” I began to speak, but Ben put up his hand. “Let me finish,” he said. “I checked there’s nothing to indicate police were involved in this. There’s no probable cause to search your premises, no record of officers being called to this address, and no search warrants issued.”
“That doesn’t mean a cop didn’t do it,” I said.
“There are procedures we have to follow, a chain of evidence, to warrant a search like this. There’s no way around law and procedure.”
“Skinner doesn’t follow procedure,” I said.
“He bends the rules, but we’re dealing with illegal search and seizure. It’s a rock solid law. If we don’t have probable cause to search a property, we can’t enter, period. If a cop breaks that law he gets fired or worse, goes to jail. Not to mention, anything found would be inadmissible in court. A cop wouldn’t risk his lively hood, just to blow a case to hell like that. It just doesn’t happen,” Ben said.
“If it wasn’t the police, why did Mr. Johnson say it was the police?”
“When you see an officious looking person, you know…gold badge…blue uniform, utility belt…so on…you assume he’s a cop, right?”
“It’s what a cop wears,” I said.
“Yes, but anyone can go to the mall and buy the exact uniform that Indianapolis cops wear. The only difference is that our patches are different, and our badges have the state seal and our emblem on them. How closely have you looked at an officer’s uniform? Do you know what the official police emblem looks like?” Ben asked.
“I don’t.” Ben made sense. Society was trained not to question authority so we didn’t. “If it looks like a duck and acts like a duck…”
“It’s a duck, right?” Ben laughed. “Mr. Johnson saw a man dressed like a cop.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“He said he saw only one guy, but he thought there may have been several.”
“What did the guy look like?”
“He said he was stocky with a mustache. That describes half of the police force.”
“That’s pretty general,” I said.
“I think this guy was a cop at one time or at least has a law enforcement back ground. He knew how to look and act like a cop.”
“Do you think it is related to this case?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “They tore up your place looking for something. Do you have any idea what?”
“No,” I said.
“Is anything missing?”
“No, but they searched my computer too. It was on and opened to my e-mail.”
“Do you keep work files on your computer?”
“I never take anything from work home because it’s confidential information.”
“You don’t work on things at home?” he asked.
“No, and the e-mail is my personal account. I don’t do much on my laptop. I read the Indy Star blog, occasionally, look up current events, and play solitaire, but that’s it.”
“That’s all?” he asked. “You don’t check your bank account or purchase anything?”
“If I do it’s on my work computer because we have a great firewall on that system. I feel safer conduction transactions there.” Ben eyed me. “I know it’s against policy, but Mary never minded as long as I was off the clock.”
“Nothing is missing? A file, bank statement anything.”
“I can’t tell, it’s such a mess, but I’m sure, I had nothing related to this case or work in my apartment.” I said, looking around at the mess. It was going to take forever to put my apartment right.
“What about Jimmy? Did you have anything personal of his here?” Ben asked, fumbling with the door.
“No.”
“Either this is related to the case or it was a random break in. I doubt it’s the latter,” Ben said. He grasped the door and swung it a few times. “You door works now. It’s not very secure, but I think it will last until the maintenance man puts a new door on. I spoke to him and he’ll replace everything this afternoon.” Ben stood up and brushed splinters from his pants. “Do you have somewhere else to stay for a while?”
“No,” I replied. Normally, I would stay at Jimmy’s place, but I couldn’t with him in Jail. It would be too depressing.
“Any family you could stay with?” Ben asked.
“No,” I replied. “My mother died four years ago and my father lives in Texas. I don’t think leaving town right now is a good idea,” I said.
Dad moved to Texas several years ago to work at the American Airlines corporate office. He decided he was too old for commercial flying. He still flew his own personal planes, but at fifty-five, he realized that his reaction time had slowed. “When a pilot can’t react as fast as he thinks, it’s time to get out of the cockpit,” he said. “I can’t have hundreds of lives in my hands anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Ben said, “and your father so far away. It must be tough.”
“My dad and I aren’t close. My parents divorced when I was young and I lived with my mom.”
“I bet you really miss her,” Ben said. No, I see her all the time, as a matter of fact; she was just standing over you making lewd gestures. I made a non-committal shrug towards Ben.
Ben closed my door and locked it. “I have to leave, but I’m worried about your safety.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Besides, I can’t leave my place like this.” I looked around. The mess overwhelmed me. I had a lot of crap in my apartment. I couldn’t remember where it all came from. Every closet, cabinet, and draw riffled, its contents dumped out all over the place. I hadn’t examined kitchen, but saw every food container emptied onto the floor too.
“I cleaned up all perishable stuff from the refrigerator. I couldn’t salvage anything; you need to get groceries.”
“Thank you,” I said. At least I didn’t have to deal with dried ketchup or the stench of spoiled food. I considered all that Ben did while I slept. “Ben, did you sleep at all last night?”
“No,” he replied. “I’ve been running on adrenaline since I brought you home. I tried to sleep, but couldn’t.”
“I couldn’t do anything else,” I said.
“You were pretty hysterical last night. I think you were in shock too. Your body just couldn’t take it.” He smiled, which made his amber eyes light up. “I couldn’t sit still. I had too much on my mind. I feel bad about everything and I’m powerless to stop it.” He tilted my chin up to him. “I think you know how I feel about you.” He leaned into to kiss me.
I pulled away. I placed my hand on his chest. “Ben you seem like a really nice guy…” I started.
“… but you’re in love with someone else, which may or may not be a criminal.”
“He’s no
t a criminal.”
“For argument’s sake, let’s say that there wasn’t a boyfriend…”
I cut him off. “I can’t do hypothetical. I love Jimmy; I’ve loved him for years and that won’t change. If I never met Jimmy, if all this wasn’t going on, I wouldn’t have met you. If I did meet you, I don’t know how I’d feel,” I said. “Ben, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the last twenty four hours, but I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone, but Jimmy.”
“How can I earn your trust?” he asked.
“You can’t,” I said. “Honestly, I feel like you’re just trying to gain my trust to fish for information.”
“I’m not, but I have to do my job,” he said. Ben was so close to me that I could feel his body heat.
“Right now, I don’t feel all warm and fuzzy towards the police. I’ve been threatened and intimidated by your partner, the police arrested the man I love, for something he didn’t do, and the police or a cop of some kind broke in and trashed my apartment.” Ben was off his rocker if he thought I felt any kind of affection towards him or his job. “How do I know you aren’t some kind of psycho orchestrating all of this to get next to me?”
“I’m not orchestrating anything. You watch too much TV,” Ben said. “That shit doesn’t really happen.”
“Really, because this seems like a Dateline episode to me.”
He walked over to the green chair, jerked up his clothes and gun holster. “I’m leaving.” Did he want me to beg him to stay? I didn’t want him to stay the night.
“Good,” I said. “I don’t want to have to call the cops on you.”
As he walked out, he turned and said, “By the way, I bought you doughnuts and coffee, it’s in the kitchen. You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t thank you and I didn’t ask for your help.” Okay, now I’m being childish. At any moment, I would say “na-na-boo-boo”, and stick my tongue out. Ben frustrated me so much. I wanted to believe him and be flattered by his affection, but a red warning light kept going off in my head. I knew to listen to the inner alarm, without psychic abilities.
After I closed the door behind Ben, I did stick my tongue out. “That’s mature,” Mom said. “It reminds me of when you were seven and you liked little Scotty Smith next door. You stuck your tongue out at him a lot too.”
“I don’t like Ben.”
“I heard you say that, but I’m not so sure,” Mom said. “I think you were a little harsh on him.”
“Mother, he’s borderline stalking me.” I scowled.
“He is not,” Mom said. “Men like to help women in need, that’s all.”
“I don’t need his help,” I huffed.
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” Mom asked. “I saw you last night, hysterical and broken. You needed help.” She sighed. “I’m very worried about you.” Oh now she’s worried. Mom disappeared for a week when I needed her most.
I rounded on Mom. “Where have you been while my life was falling apart?”
“In the green room,” Mom answered. “I thought you needed your space.”
“I needed someone to talk too. You were gone, Jimmy was gone, and I was here dealing with all this stuff by myself.”
“I’m here now,” Mom said.
“You hate the green room,” I said. “You’ve never given me space before.” I dropped in my green chair. Ben’s cologne wafted up. It reminded me of my anger.
“Cassie, I have a life too.”
“You’re dead you don’t have a life.” I huffed.
“I do and friends,” Mom said.
“Friends? You’ve never mentioned friends before.”
“Well, I recently reconnected with an old friend,” Mom said. She smiled, and if ghosts blushed, she would have.
“It’s a man. You have a banshee boyfriend,” I said. “Are you his ghoul friend?” At the point of hysteria, with my life in shambles, Mom’s revelation sent me into fits of uncontrollable laughter. My sides hurt as I bellowed with laughter.
“I don’t have a boyfriend and the spook jokes aren’t funny,” Mom said. “He’s just a friend.”
“Was he someone I knew?” I asked. Mom never had a relationship after Dad. She always seemed too busy with raising me and her career. After I moved to college, I suggested she go to a singles club and she reacted like I told her to have a one-night stand or something.
“No,” Mom said.
“How did you know this friend?”
“He was a pilot I knew.”
“How does a relationship work in the afterlife?” I asked. “I mean you guys could get close, and it’s your time to go…or his.”
“I’ve seen married couples in the green room and one gets called before the other one. It’s terribly sad,” Mom said. “This isn’t a relationship. It’s just a friendship, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to when I’m in the green room.” Mom seemed happy to have someone to hang out with in the green room. It must be tiring to only converse with two people.
We talked as I tried to clean up my apartment. I started turning all of the furniture up right. Thankfully, Ben already set my couch and chair right. It took all my strength to get the analog television back on the stand. I made a mental note to get a lighter high definition television the next time I got some extra cash. The realization of unemployment set in.
What else I would do if the board closed Mary House? My degree was in counseling, but my position at Mary House defined me. Mary Lazarus gave me the opportunity when so many other places didn’t. When I graduated from college, I had a degree, but no real experience. It made it impossible to find a job. Mary took me under her wing just like she had so many other women. Together we worked to make the facility what it was.
When I started, Mary House floundered in the grass roots stage and didn’t have any backing. Mary and I pushed to make the program successful. We went to politicians, judges and prosecutors plugging Mary House. We threw fund raisers and applied for grants. We campaigned a lot in the early days. Currently, Mary House was a respected rehabilitation center. It held a board of directors and government funding. I considered how Mary’s death would affect the program, its residents, and even my position.
Life as I knew it was over all because of a sadistic bastard. It made me mad. Mom said that I took it as a personal attack. “Naturally I’m taking it personal,” I said. “I’m the only one being affected by this maniac!” I sifted through a pile of paper.
“Really?” Mom asked. “What about the women who have lost their lives? What about that little girl who lost her mommy?” Mom scolded. “What about the women you care about at Mary House? What about Jimmy? It’s just like you to have a pity party for yourself without consideration of all of the people who have fared much worse than you in all of this.”
“Don’t lecture me Mom!” I barked, buried in paper. “Of course, I consider the others, but it just seems like…” I stopped. I lived, not incarcerated, or homeless…yet. I stuffed papers in a garbage bag. I refused to admit I was wrong.
“That’s what I thought,” Mom said. “I don’t deny you’ve went through a lot, but you have a chance to change your circumstances the others don’t. You need to keep that in mind the next time you start feeling sorry for yourself.” Mom took the wind out of my sail of anger. I felt like an ass.
My phone rang. Thank God, saved by the bell. Mom had more lecturing, but she had to wait.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hey, it’s Cho. I’m in Indy,” He said. “I’ve arranged a consultation with Jimmy at the jail and I’ve asked if my paralegal could attend to assist.”
“Your paralegal?” He brought his paralegal?
“I mean you.” Cho exhaled in irritation. “They won’t let you visit if they know you’re Jimmy’s girlfriend. Today, you’re my paralegal. I need you to dress professional and act the part, alright?”
That was going to be hard since my closet stood bare and my clothes heaped in a wrinkled pile. I usually bought perm
anent press clothes, but even they couldn’t resist wrinkles. I didn’t own an iron either. “Do you have a suggestion? How does a paralegal dress?”
“Conservative,” he answered.
“Cho, I don’t think I can pull this off.”
“You don’t know how to dress conservative?” he asked. Cho had a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“It’s not that.” I hesitated. “My apartment was broken into last night and my place is wrecked. I’m not sure what state my clothes are in.”
“What?” Cho huffed. “You were robbed?”
“Nothing was taken.”
“We need to talk, but after we see Jimmy.”
“Shouldn’t we talk before?” I asked. “So much has happened since I spoke to you last.”
“Probably, but they set the meeting time in an hour. I don’t have time. Can you meet me at the Jail?” he asked.
I started to say yes, but then remembered my car at Mary House. “No,” I replied. “I don’t have a car.”
“You don’t own a car?” Cho asked, annoyed. The man thought I was incompetent.
“No, I left it at Mary House last night.”
“Why?” He questioned. I felt like I was in the principal’s office explaining why my dog ate my homework. Cho intimidated me.
“It’s a long story and one I don’t have time to tell.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Cho snapped. “I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?”
“I live about fifteen minutes south of the Jail.”
“What’s your address so I can GPS it?” He had a lot on his mind, but I didn’t like his attitude. I gave Cho my address. “Be outside waiting.” He ordered.
“Yes, sir!” I snapped, after I hung up. I darted to my room and sifted through the clothes thrown all over. I found a plain blue pant suit. It was my court outfit. I wore it whenever I had to appear in court to testify against defendants. The suit looked nice despite its age. It was a polyester blend and not too wrinkled. I hung the suit in the bathroom. I hoped the shower steam would work out the wrinkles. It worked, the suit looked good.
I quickly toweled my hair, combed it, and pulled it up in a barrette. I dabbed a little concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles. I decided to put on some makeup too. I didn’t want Jimmy to see me looking pale and pathetic. I checked the clock. I finished with ten minutes to spare. I threw on some black flats and headed out the door.