by Kim Smith
Satisfied with my plan, I headed out, chomping on a protein breakfast bar that tasted like chopped cardboard. Oh, the things I did to keep my girlish figure!
I finished it off while waiting for the June heat to disperse from old Betsy’s interior.
Turning Betsy’s air conditioner to deep freeze made her engine wheeze and grind. She’d turned over a hundred thousand on her speedometer and now it seemed as if everything was making noises. Her body parts, as rusted and squeaky as a dog toy, always sounded like the Tin Man asking for oil. I hoped she lasted long enough for me to rub a few pennies together to get her in shape. I hated the thought of her ending up on the junk heap.
Traffic on Greenman Road was tolerable and while my stereo blasted the latest in rock tunes (partly to mask all the rattling my car was doing), I tapped my fingers along with the beat. How the rest of the morning went depended on Thelma being at home, unfettered by lingering policemen, or other elements of crime-busting that South Lake prided itself on. With any luck, she would be alone, fussing over the blood on her family room floor, baking cookies, and working on some poor dumb student’s grades.
If nothing happened at the Denaldos, and nothing came of my whiling away the hours there, I could certainly stop in and visit my aunts at their restaurant, Tillie’s Home Cookin’–IT’S GOOOOD! They were always available for a free meal, and sometimes for free advice. No matter what life threw at me, they had an answer for it.
They were the only real family I had left since my mom and dad met Jesus in a tornado over in Kansas. I had been living with them or been ordered about by them since I was a kid. They were the sweetest old ladies in the world, at least unless you messed with their beloved niece. Then things could get dicey.
The first thing I saw once I turned Betsy toward the Denaldo house was a battered green Taurus parked out front.
Damn. Sal Ramirez was on the job. What was he doing here? I blew out an exasperated breath. He should have let someone else do this. But no, he was a dedicated cop. He’d never rest until he had his time with the case, pouring over the evidence and letting the details gel inside his brilliant detective gray matter.
After parking in the driveway down close to the street, I walked up the steep drive. The underground sprinkler system whizzed out water spraying me every occasionally. As it made a new revolution, I raced toward the brick walk to avoid getting spritzed again. Finally, standing on the front door stoop, I pondered what to do. What if now was a bad time to visit? Maybe Mrs. Denaldo was in there, being asked a multitude of questions by Sal. Would he be upset if I interrupted?
He would be livid.
Would Thelma care?
Perish the thought, Wallace.
If she suffered at the mercy of Interrogator Sal, she would probably be thankful for an interruption. She might even be grateful enough to allow me to film sometime later today, and then I would be officially worthy of the money from Jim.
I took a quick look at myself in the front window glass, and passed inspection. My hair wasn’t too ratty, and my makeup seemed barely there, but satisfactory. Maybe I would get a moment to offer to take Sal to dinner, too. The idea of a date with him, brought about by his tragic loss, and my sudden desire to be his friend made my mouth go dry.
Geez Shannon.
Shaking off my fears, I gave a quick rap before losing my nerve entirely, and after a few moments of nobody answering, rang the doorbell. It echoed softly within. Sal yanked the interior door open and startled me. I took a quick step back.
My face must have registered the shock because the hard edge to his face softened. I tried giving him my most winning smile while he fumbled with the inside latch. He certainly hadn’t expected to see me here. That feeling was at least mutual.
“Shannon,” he said, opening the door. “How can I help you?”
“I came by to find out if Mrs. Denaldo has come home.”
“No, she hasn’t.” He stepped out onto the porch, one hand on the door. He had on latex gloves. “She wouldn’t be allowed in here anyway, not yet.”
“Oh.” A blush heated my cheeks. He was obviously working the crime scene, and I was not interrupting an interrogation, I was interrupting a murder case. The bluish tinge under his eyes showed his total exhaustion.
“You shouldn’t be doing this, Sal. Dan would understand if you let others work his case. In fact, he’d be mad if your relationship with him caused something to be mishandled. What on earth are you doing here?”
His shoulders straightened a little. “So I’ve been told.”
I looked down at my feet. “I didn’t mean to fuss. I know you’re doing what you have to do, but damn, Sal…”
“No problem, chica. What did you want?”
I gazed up at him. “I still have a job to do too, Sal. I haven’t gotten to talk to the lady of this house yet, and I need to--in the worst way. Has she checked in, called, spoken to anyone? The news carried the story about the murder and showed a picture of the house with the crime tape. I figured she would come running back to check it out.”
Or maybe to collect her purse.
He shook his head. “Not that I know of. Seems kind of odd to me, too. If there was a murder at my house, and I saw it on the news, I would make sure somebody knew it wasn’t my handiwork that…” He swallowed hard. “You know…Killed him.”
I wanted to hug him. Instead, I clasped my hands in front of me, not trusting my emotions. “Yeah. Me, too.”
The silence grew uncomfortable, like being between heaven and hell.
He finally broke it. “I’ve got to go back inside, Shannon. It’s kind of important. If you want to call my office later today, or tomorrow, I’ll keep you posted.” His voice sounded sincerely apologetic and it brought home the way it felt to be filled with grief.
This time, I reached out and patted his arm, making solid eye contact. “Is there anything…?”
He swiped at his hairline with his other wrist, and looked away for a moment. “I don’t know, honestly. I will keep your kind offer in mind, though.”
I nodded, understanding his need to be strong right now. He turned back inside the house, and closed the door.
Damn.
I had sucky luck and bad timing.
Heading back to the car--I cursed the sprinkler as it sprayed at me--and then slammed my door, thankful to be out of the way. I sat there trying to figure out where Thelma Denaldo had gone and why she wasn’t worried about a body found in her house.
That very same beloved house she wanted so badly she would fight her estranged husband over it. This just didn’t make sense—unless you considered how maybe she was a victim, too.
I gave the house one final glance, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sal moving around in there, but there was nothing to see. Before I pulled away, I called Dwayne to see if he was in the office yet. He said he was and there was absolutely nothing going on there.
“Can I like come in late?” I asked.
“You are late.”
“Later, then?”
“I’ll call you if something happens, but as of this minute? There ain’t shit to do here, Shan.”
“Cool.”
###
I headed to aunt Tillie’s restaurant. There was nothing else to take my mind off my dilemma. Dan was dead and so was the video business.
The eatery had the usual noontime crowd of business people and harried mothers of toddlers. Parking was at a premium, and in frustration, I parked in an area not designed for parking. Let them tow Betsy, if they dared. Better than the scrap heap. I slammed her door. It slammed properly, not some deep-throated thud like Dwayne’s import.
I entered the cool interior letting my eyes adjust. The smell of brewed coffee and fried fish sauntered up my olfactory. Meatloaf was usually the special of the day on Mondays, but maybe they got an extra shipment of catfish this week. Who was complaining?
Connie, my favorite waitress, idled behind the counter. The television was on the headline news station and
the news of the hour was some robber dressed like in an Uncle Sam getup. Not funny, not funny at all.
Connie hailed me with a wave and a smile. “Hey, Shannon. You here to eat?”
“Yeah, starved.” I turned left, and rolled toward the non-smoking area. She scooped up a menu and followed.
Seated in the raised area of tables in front of the western windows, Katie Henderson sat reading the local newspaper and sipping coffee.
“Hey you,” I said, loud enough to interrupt her reading. “You want company?”
“Shannon! Come over here, you sluggard.” She moved the paper aside and her cup out of danger. Connie set the menu before me, and added silverware and a glass of water. “I’ll be back with some sweet tea. You want lemons?”
“Not today. I’m sour enough.”
“That makes two of us,” she agreed with a grin before padding off to get my drink.
Katie, from years of experience, didn’t bother asking what that interaction meant. Instead, she nailed it straight away. “My crystal ball says it’s a man.”
“We’ve been friends for too long.”
“Hmm. Not Dwayne, either.”
“Right again.”
She sipped her coffee and squinted at me over the rim of her white porcelain cup. “Is it Sal?”
I shrugged.
“What did he do this time? I swear you two can’t get it together to save your lives. You so should have slept with him in college. Then you wouldn’t be wondering what he would be like in bed right now.”
I half-gasped, half-laughed. “I am not thinking of his bedroom prowess.”
“What is it then? I think I can tell when a woman is suffering from the anti-sex thing.”
“I am not anti-sex.” My voice cracked from trying to keep it low. “There just hasn’t been a right time for us. Maybe there never will be. Certainly, not while his partner’s murder is being investigated.”
She made a derisive sound something akin to Dwayne’s noise when he was totally unconvinced.
“Anyway,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Let’s talk about you. My life is taboo.”
“Your life is just all wrong right now. If he showed up at your door with roses and champagne, would you let him visit your bedroom?”
I couldn’t contain the laughter any longer. “Honey, if Frankenstein showed up at my door with roses and champagne, I’d even let him in.”
“Oh, this is going to be fuuuuun.” She smiled evilly.
“Don’t you even think about it, Katie Henderson; I mean it. Leave that man alone. He’s grieving right now and if I so much as blink in his direction he’s going to end up putting me in handcuffs.”
She rubbed her hands together and grinned. “Now you’re talking!”
I slapped at her. “Stop!”
Connie came back with my tea and stood poised to take our orders. “What y’all having today? We have a new dish, something with beef steak.”
Katie looked up quizzically. “Did you say, beefcake?”
We both guffawed until we cried.
###
Later, after we had stuffed ourselves and discussed the potential of marriageable men in South Lake, Aunt Nancy showed up and pulled out a chair. “What’s shaking?”
“Me. In fear.” I shoved my plate away.
“Lord child, you’ve spent your whole life in fear of something. What is it now?”
My aunts have witnessed my innermost failings, and my impulsive nature at its worst. I decided not to tell her that there were no decent men left. She’d harangue me for hours.
“I’m in serious need of money from a client and can’t finish the job, and now I’m afraid I’ll never get the money, and I need it and—”
“Hold on, Shannon Marie. There’s a story somewhere in here.”
I paused.
“What job?” she asked in a slow determined way.
“Oh nothing much. You remember, I told you about the video job for that lawyer? Just filming the contents of a marital domicile about to be rendered asunder, I believe it’s known as.”
“Why didn’t you get it done?”
“The woman was not available.”
Where the hell did she go anyway without a purse? Without credit cards? My mind worried the facts like a fish going after a worm.
“Can you reschedule?”
“She’s sort of missing.”
“Kiss that money goodbye.”
I blinked.
She went on with a shake of her head. “Listen, there are too many ways to take that equipment of yours and make it produce money. Forget this job and move on.”
She pulled a piece of paper out of her apron pocket. “Here call this lady. She has a daughter getting married and she needs a videographer.” She rose to leave. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to get ready for a date tonight with Herbert.”
“Thanks, Aunt Nan. I love you.”
She paused. “Uh, don’t forget about coming by the house. We need to discuss some stuff, you know, about your…uh…birthday.”
I nodded, smiling. She seemed a little rattled about it. This made me wonder even more what Aunt Tillie was planning.
She pecked each of our cheeks and took off. The name on the paper written out in her scrawling hand looked familiar.
“April Crachett,” I read.
“Crachett?”
“Yeah. Sounds familiar.”
“It should. It’s from A Christmas Carol. You know, Bob Crachett.”
I didn’t reply, instead just stuffed the paper in my pocket and lifted my tote bag from the chair back. “Want to tag along? I could introduce you as my assistant or something.”
“Sure! I’m taking vacation this week, so I have nothing better to do.” Her job at the Sportsman’s Delight in Memphis was iffy on a good week. She never held regular hours.
We paid our bills and headed to the parking lot.
“Can we take your car?” I asked. “I’d like to make a good impression. Betsy’s under the weather right now.” I peeked over at my car still where I’d left it. The towing guy probably didn’t even want to be seen with it.
She giggled and waved me over to her shiny black Bronco. How the girl kept car notes, rent, and other assorted bills paid with her sketchy employment schedule was beyond me. Not that I had any room to talk.
We drove to Memphis via the old highway, and I called up the Crachett woman’s number. She agreed to meet us at Starbucks on the east side of town. After disconnecting, I commented on my lack of preparedness for this meeting. “No business cards, no brochure, no nothing.”
Without raising her eyes from the road, Katie pulled some papers out of her visor. “Here.”
One of my brochures and it had a business card stapled to it. “Damn! You are my assistant, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “Don’t let Brown hear you say that. He’ll shoot us both.”
I hoped I nailed this job. Dwayne would be less likely to gripe at me for losing out on the money from Jimmy. Maybe I wouldn’t miss it if I had money and work to replace the loss. If Thelma Denaldo ever returned from whence she had gone, and if the couple was still in the divorce stage, maybe I would get the job done. That two grand would be so sweet.
Chapter Five
Katie and I parked near the front door of a coffee chain place and I noticed the clouds rolling in. Maybe it would cool the air enough to make it tolerable. We hurried inside before the air conditioner effects wore off. Katie wore lime-green short shorts and a matching tank top, and her muscled legs and ample bosom made the table of college-aged guys set down their paper cups.
“Oh wow,” Katie said, ignoring the looks. “They have French presses on sale.”
The guys snickered and I knew the words “French” and “pressed” gave them ideas. I craned my neck over the display to look for a lone woman waiting at a table.
A thin red-haired woman sat half-hidden around the corner from the counter. She was dressed in a flowing dress made of some gauzy lo
oking material and sat sipping at a drink.
“I’ll bet that’s her,” I told Katie. “Will you get me something? I’ll pay.” I handed her my debit card.
“What’ll it be, Magee?” she asked me, smiling all the while at the nearest guy, who, although young, was a total hottie. He looked as though she’d asked him the question.
“Get me something yummy. Surprise me.” I started to walk away, but thought about it and turned back. “And quit flirting with them. I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail again today.”
The guys did a double take, and I walked away, confident I had busted someone’s bubble. I worked my way over to April Crachett’s table and introduced myself.
“Mrs. Crachett.” I held out my hand. “I’m Shannon Wallace.”
“Oh, hi.” She shook my hand and motioned for me to take the chair across from her.
“My assistant is over getting us something to drink, and will be here in a moment. So, how do you know my Aunt Nancy?”
“Oh, Nan and I go way back. We were in a church play together.”
“And your daughter is getting married, I understand?”
“Yes, in August. August tenth. She has been so bad about getting arrangements done, too, and when Nancy told me you were in the wedding video business, well, I jumped on the chance.”
“August? My, that is cutting it short.”
“Are you available? Your aunt sort of hinted you might be.”
I handed the brochure with business card to her. “To be honest, I don’t have a clue. I can check my online calendar in a moment though. Is she planning a big wedding?”
“Well, I really don’t know what a big wedding is. They all seem big to me if they’re held in church. So, I suppose yes, it is a big wedding. I think her guest list is somewhere around two hundred.”
Katie showed up about that time, drinks in hand. I introduced them and they chatted briefly looking at the brochure while I skimmed my online calendar from my cell phone. When I got off, I assured Mrs. Crachett we had the date open.