by Cam Larson
"I really enjoyed our night out, Laila. Getting to spend time at the museum with you and then relax over dinner was fantastic!"
"I enjoyed it too. I was blown away by how much you know about ancient Egypt. It makes it much more fun to go to a museum when you're with someone who knows the subject matter well. And dinner, of course, was great, too."
"I'm going back on call in about six hours," he said as he stood up and stretched. "I guess I’d better get some shut-eye."
We reluctantly parted company, and I locked the door behind him when he left. I found that I was happier than I'd been in some time – certainly since John’s death took over my life. I let Thor out one more time and then we headed for bed.
I awoke at a quarter to midnight when my phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D., but there was no name. When I answered, no one was on the line. The same thing happened again at around one o’clock and again at three a.m. with the same results.
At four, it rang again. I didn’t answer it that time. Whoever was harassing me would not get the satisfaction of me answering.
# # #
When I dragged myself out of bed at six, I felt like I had been awake all night long – because I pretty much had been. My shift today at Roasted Love started early, and I downed three cups of strong coffee before arriving at work.
"Did you have a long night?" asked Jacob. It mystified me how he could be so alert so early in the day. His laugh at my appearance irritated me.
"Very funny, Jacob," I said. "Just pour me some coffee and I’ll be fine."
Putting myself into action, I woke up enough to greet customers in a friendly way. I managed to get their orders right and for the time being, I didn’t think about the calls that had gone on all night long.
Later on, when I did think about them, I hoped that is was just my lucky night to be pranked by some teenagers. Hopefully they move on to someone else tomorrow.
I couldn't think of any customers from Roasted Love that would have anything against me. Most had known me for quite a while and were always friendly.
"Maybe it was just an old-fashioned wrong number," I said aloud.
"What are you saying, Laila?" asked Lily.
I laughed. She'd caught me again talking to myself. "Aw, I had a couple of prank calls last night and was just trying to figure out who it could have been."
Lily’s face showed real concern. "I hope they don’t keep that up," she said, and then tried to reassure me. "It was probably someone who had nothing better to do than to keep somebody awake. They probably don't even know you."
I agreed with her and dismissed it all from my mind. Instead, I filled my head with thoughts of Daniel, a much more pleasant subject.
I got off at mid-afternoon and started for home. My mind had wandered back to thinking about who could have caused John’s death when my cell rang.
I felt a twinge of concern, but the caller turned out to be Jacob.
"Laila, I just thought you should know that someone asked me for your cell number. I didn’t give it to her. I told her I'd have to clear it with you first."
"Who was it? Anyone you know?"
"Yeah. It was Linda Henson."
Linda Henson? "Well, I don't know why she'd want my number... but I'd sure like to find out. Shoot."
Jacob gave me Linda’s number and I quickly wrote it down. "Thanks, Jacob. I’ll think about calling her back."
I hung up, and tried to think. Why would Linda Henson want to talk to me? She hadn’t been back in Roasted Love since the one time I'd seen her with Larch. I realized she may have come back when I wasn’t there.
I got home and spent a little time playing with Thor, still thinking about why Linda would call me. Maybe she knew something about John’s death – but if she did, why would she call me?
My curiosity was more than I could take. I walked back inside my apartment and dialed Linda's number.
The voice sounded the same way she looked: silky and smooth. I imagined her shaking long blonde hair away from her eyes as she said hello.
"This is Laila," I said. "Jacob said you called and wanted to talk to me."
"Do you think we could meet someplace and talk?" she asked.
"Um – sure," I said. "What do you want to talk about?" Last night’s hang-up calls weren’t far from my mind, but I listened closely to her.
"I've heard that you think John was murdered. I may have some information that would help you."
"Okay," I said, "but why call me? Why not take it to the police?"
I could almost see that long blonde hair falling around her face as she shook her head. "Too risky for me," she said. "We have to meet in secret."
She paused. I didn’t respond immediately. "I have to tell you what I know," she continued. "Then you can do with it what you want. I don’t want to be involved any more, not once I talk with you."
"Okay," I finally agreed. "Okay. We can meet at the West River Mall. There will be people around and security cameras everywhere. It'll be safe."
"Yeah. All right."
"I’ll meet you at the west entrance – at the Little Italy Pizza. Can you meet in half an hour?"
"Half an hour." She hung up, leaving me to wonder just how much stranger all this could get.
# # #
Linda Henson and I both walked up to the west entrance to the mall at the same time. She looked behind her and then scanned the area in front of us. At the door to the Little Italy Pizza, she continued to scope out the place like she was Secret Service or something.
We picked a table in the back after ordering and sodas.
As soon as we sat down, the first thing she said was, "I was once married to John Wilkins."
I nodded slowly, and waited.
"I loved him, but I cheated on him anyway," she went on. "Ronald Larch had had a thing for me for a long time and was intent on taking me away from John. I ended up falling hard for Ronald and demanded a divorce from John." She sighed. "I was the one who caused him to end up on the streets."
I managed to take sip of my diet Coke and wait for her to go on.
"But John didn't give up so easy. He kept trying to get me back. And to Ronald, that meant war."
She paused. "See – Ronald has a good friend who's in the DEA – the Drug Enforcement Agency. After John refused to go away, it wasn’t enough for Ronald to harass only him. He had to go after his brother, too.
"At that time, Steven had finally gotten off drugs. He was clean. I think Ronald somehow got some cocaine through his DEA buddy – something that had been confiscated – and planted them in Steven's apartment. And now Steven’s in prison for being in possession of drugs and trying to sell to an undercover cop."
My mind was racing at a million miles an hour. I was in shock. "Do you have proof of any of this?"
She shrugged. "I’m mainly telling you what I think happened. Ronald hinted at it without coming right out and telling me details."
"And here's another question," I said. "How did Larch persuade an officer to give him drugs to plant in an innocent man's apartment? That doesn’t make sense to me."
Linda shook her head. "I can only tell you that Ronald has always been jealous of the Wilkins brothers. There are times when I wonder if that’s really why he went for me – to get back at John for some reason."
"Then – well, why do you stay with him? It sounds like you don’t really care all that much about him."
She looked down. "I see him less and less all the time. I guess I’m finally growing up." Her eyes met mine again. "I think the police should be looking at Ronald Larch – if not for causing John’s death, then at least for setting Steven up."
Wow! "Are you telling me that you think Larch killed John?"
Linda’s hands shook when she picked up her drink. "I certainly don’t want to accuse Ronald of that," she said. "Please don’t take that part to the police. I don’t know what I was thinking. I meant that – he implied he planted drugs on Steven somehow."
She went
for her drink again. I waited as patiently as I could. This woman was getting herself in deep and I was curious about how she was going to dig out again.
"Ronald never said he had anything to do with John’s death. I do have to say though, that he was way too happy when he heard the news."
I shook my head. "I don’t know what I can do about any of this. You've told me some very serious stuff. If I take it all to the Chief of Police, it'll be just speculation on my part with no real evidence. But if you can prove what you're saying, we could go to Chief Hayes with it."
Turquoise eyes bored into me. "I don’t think John overdosed by his own hand. And you don’t either. I regret I missed out on a life with him. I want to find out exactly who caused his death. That's why I’m telling you what I picked up from Ronald."
I stared back at her, and tried to think. "It sounds like either you have good reason to suspect Larch of framing Steven, or you know for sure that he actually did it." I let that sink in for a few seconds. "And I have to ask – do you have a personal reason to point the finger at Larch?"
A shaking hand brushed luxurious blonde hair from the right side of her face. Once again, her eyes darted around as if clearing the shop of anyone she didn’t want to be there. I glanced into the mall corridor outside the pizza shop. I didn’t recognize anyone there.
"I only know what I told you," said Linda. "Ronald didn’t come right out and tell me he planted drugs in Steven's apartment. But he did imply it in a way to make me draw my own conclusions."
"I understand. But it's really just hearsay and speculation," I said. I knew Donald Hayes would think I was wasting his time if I went to him with this. "When you've got more, I’ll think about it."
I wasn’t ready to give Linda any leeway at this point. If she had viable information that could stick, then she should be the one to take it to the Chief. But if she had her own reasons for pointing the finger at Larch, that was another matter.
Chapter Twenty
Linda Henson did leave me with something that I knew was true: Larch did indeed hang out with a DEA agent. But I couldn't imagine why an agent who fought to clear the streets of illegal drugs would casually give a buddy some cocaine so he could frame an innocent man.
I thought about Steven Wilkins. If Linda was telling the truth, maybe he was innocent, just as he said.
My mind swirled with all the things going on. Very little made sense. Maybe, if I don't mention anything about Skid Row, I could get Daniel to help me think through some of it again.
I called him and he answered right away. "What’s up, Laila?"
"Nothing in particular," I said. "I just wanted to throw a few things out there for you. I’ve learned some things about people who knew John." I held my breath.
He was silent for a moment. "OK, I take it you want a sounding board," he said. I thought I detected a hint of resignation in his voice.
"Yes. I do. And you're the best one I know. Do you have time to meet me at the pavilion in the park?" I asked.
"For you, I can make time. How about we meet in a half hour?"
Relief rushed over me when he agreed. I hoped he wouldn’t bring up any possible drives down to the forbidden area on my part. I vowed to not mention anything about downtown West River.
# # #
We met at the empty pavilion in the city park. I brought Subway sandwiches and two diet Cokes with me. A few families with children were near the small lake feeding the ducks. We could hear voices from the tennis court. It was the perfect neutral setting for us.
I was relieved to see he looked calm and happy. I hoped nothing I would say changed that.
"Hey you," I teased when we met at a bench. "Thanks for meeting me. I brought sandwiches, I hope you're hungry."
"Hey yourself. I can always eat. Thanks. I presume this is some sort of bribe to get my help?" Daniel grinned at me.
"No bribe, just a thank you. I haven't been to the park in forever. Maybe we can take a walk and feed the ducks a bit after we talk and eat. How's you're day so far?"
"Great. Better now that I get to see you.."
I blushed and handed a sandwich to him. While he took a bite, I dove into my story. "I talked to Linda Henson. She told me she thinks Ronald Larch may have had something to do with framing John's brother Steven. I don’t know exactly what her agenda is, but she seemed sincere. She also thinks that someone killed John and that it might be related in some way. Do you think Larch could actually get access to seized drugs and plant them in Steven’s apartment?"
He sighed. "Laila – surely you know by now that anybody who really wants to get hold of drugs of any kind can get them. They don't need a crooked DEA man for that."
"Yeah, I guess not."
"So – what makes you think John's brother was framed?"
I looked up at him. It was confession time. "I – I went to see him. I mean, I went to see Steven in the prison."
Daniel sat up. "You mean – you went to visit John's brother in Maxfield Prison?"
"Um – yeah. I did."
He let out his breath. "All right," he said. "What did you find out?"
"I went there twice to talk to him. Steven swears cocaine was planted in his apartment. He also told me that the charges against him of trying to sell to an undercover cop are completely false. According to him, that never happened."
"Well, yeah, but Laila, surely you realize that there isn't one guilty man in prison anywhere. They're all innocent. Just ask them." He looked steadily at me. "I'm just saying – you have to take things like that with a grain of salt."
"Yeah, I know, but – but he was really convincing. He's a lot like John. And I believed him."
"Okay. But you did say John was worried about his brother using," Daniel pointed out.
"He was worried about that. But even though Steven was an addict, he wasn't using at the time his brother died." I sipped my Coke. "But what do you get from my visit with Linda Henson? She verified Steven’s innocence, if she's telling the truth."
He shook his head, and took another bite of his sub sandwich. "I don't know," he said, around a mouthful of bread and cheese and roast beef.
"I'm just wondering why a woman as gorgeous as Linda would hang around with Ronald Larch – much less throw away her marriage for him. I don't see where she and Larch have much in common."
Daniel shrugged. "Hard to say. But I guess nobody knows about stuff like that for sure except the ones who are in it."
"Would Larch actually tell Linda about planting drugs in Steven’s apartment? I mean, if they're just on-again, off-again, it doesn’t make sense that he'd tell her something like that."
"Yeah. That's a good point. And when you think about it, she may have her own reasons to point the finger at him."
We fell silent. Neither of us could figure out what those reasons might be. But at the same time, it felt good to lay it all out with Daniel.
I held off talking about Ricky Thomas’ recent arrest, though. It wasn’t the time to bring up how I knew this Ricky Thomas. And I was still curious about what jail he was in. That mystery would have to be taken up with Chief Donald Hayes. If he didn’t know, he could find out – if he wanted to.
I took a bite of my yummy turkey-bacon-guacamole sub and thought things over. "There is one more thing I need to tell you, Daniel."
I told him about the prank calls. "I think it was probably kids who had nothing else to do all night long. Maybe they randomly dialed a number that happened to be mine."
But he frowned deeply, and concern showed in his dark eyes. He wasn't laughing now. "Laila, that’s something that worries me. Did you call the number back?"
"No. Nothing showed up on caller I.D. It was blocked."
He held out his hand. "Let me see your phone for a minute." Daniel scrolled through the call logs and saw where the calls had come in. He tried to call back, but only got an error message.
He shook his head and handed the phone back to me. "Hmm, hard to tell anything. It makes sense it's b
locked. Whether it was a prank or something more serious, no one would be dumb enough to reveal their number. But, if it happens again, try to call it right back. I doubt you'll get an answer but it’s worth a try."
"Okay. But I really don’t expect to get any more stupid calls like those."
"I hope not."
We ate in silence for a little while, just enjoying a nice sunny day outside in the park.
Eventually we got back to the subject of the growing list of suspects. "I think you should go have a talk with Chief Hayes again," Daniel said. "It wouldn’t hurt to throw out a few of your new observations. You could mention your visit with Linda while you’re at it. And the prank calls, too."
"I'll make notes. I don't want him to think I'm disorganized or anything."
"And you could talk about your visit with Steven at Maxfield." He shook his head. "That's quite a list you've got going there."
I laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess it is. By the way – Steven told me that he and John shared the same last name. It's Wilkins. I'd thought John's last name was Collins."
"Didn't you ask Steven about that?"
"No. I was always too late. The guard told us the time was up and took him back to his cell before I could ask."
We wadded up the trash on the picnic table and Daniel threw it into the trashcan nearby. I looked up at the beautiful azure sky and wished I could spend the rest of the day with him.
The park matched the sky in its beauty. It had been recently mowed and there was something for everyone here. We walked towards the lake and watched the ducks. A young couple rowed a boat a few yards from us. The warm air was soft on my face. I needed to get out in the sun more, I thought.
Then Daniel took my hand and suggested we walk a while on the trail around the water. It was good to get away from the murder of John Wilkins and the sad, seedy conditions that surrounded it for a little while, and from the people who were connected to it.
"We should do this more often, Laila," said Daniel. "It's times like this that we really connect."
"You bet," I said, and allowed all negativity to leave my mind.