by Don Weston
“He said after his date with Eileen, she told him she had just met someone else she was attracted to.”
“She dumped Earl?” I remembered she’d told me Earl wasn’t her type.
“Well, he wasn’t going to see her again anyway,” she said.
“Eileen didn’t say anything to me about seeing another guy last night.”
“Well maybe, uh . . .” Angel hesitated. “It seems this new love interest might not be a man.”
“Well if he’s not a man, who is he?” I was confused now. Maybe it was the hangover, I thought.
“It could be a woman. Eileen once told Earl she was bi-sexual.”
I gradually began to form coherent thoughts, and I remembered something Eileen had said about Earl. He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s not my type. I like them a bit more assertive and. . . .
I’ve been called a lot of names, but I’ve only been called assertive by people who are trying to be kind when describing my “bull in the china shop” methods for dealing with people. It was what she left unsaid that was running through my mind now: and . . . female?
“Now Billie, calm down. I’m sure she could have been yanking Earl’s chain. It’s just, what you two did last night sounds a lot like a date.”
A date? Oh my God. My mind flashed on a hundred things we did and said as I searched for confirmation I was the new woman in her life.
“How could this happen?” Angel avoided my gaze, and I knew she was holding something back. “What?”
“I’m sorry Sweetie. It’s just that you dress in blue jeans, your hair, although blond and stylish is cut a bit too short, and your brusque way of dealing with people, gives one the idea you might be a bit too butch, if you get my drift.”
Meriweathers is on Northwest 26th and Vaughn Street, about a mile from my house so I thought I had plenty of time to get ready. After spending forty-five minutes prowling through my closet for something feminine to wear I settled for a pair of gray slacks, white blouse and flat heels. Because of my wasted efforts at the closet, I only had 30 minutes to do a slap-and-dash with my hair and makeup and get to the restaurant in time to meet Gloria.
I rescued my cute little red Miata from the garage, pleased with my new freedom to go where I pleased without Steve’s storm troopers hovering nearby. It ran a bit rough, I thought, and then realized it had been three weeks since I’d driven it. I parked on the street, the restaurant being in an industrial area and hiked half a block.
When I saw Gloria, I wished I’d found a dress or anything besides what I wore. Gloria radiated opulence in a black sexy dress, which showed off her long curvy legs and ample chest. I couldn’t help staring as I sat down at the table with her. Maybe she could give me some lessons in style, I thought.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Gloria said. “You like what you see?”
She caught me giving her the once over, and I had been staring at her bosom wondering if she was really that big or used a push up bra. I’ve never been able to force myself to push the girls out into the open like Gloria seemed to do so effortlessly. Yeah, I flashed that guy and the Captain once upon a time, but I did it on anger and impulse so it doesn’t really count.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit distracted today.” My face felt flushed and I knew it was red.
“That’s okay, Sugar. I’m glad you like what you see. It means I haven’t wasted my time.”
Her voice was all saccharine and suggestive. I wondered what she was up to.
“You said you had something to tell me,” I said.
“Oh, you’re all business,” she said. “Okay, I heard something from my husband and the Mayor yesterday.”
She grinned at me and brushed her long, jet-black hair back with her fingers.
“Marshall Clemons says the police are close to making an arrest in your brother’s death,” she said.
I waited, breathless, for her to continue, but she just sat there gazing at me with half-a-smile and two-parts mischief in her twinkling blue eyes.
“Well? Go on . . .” I said.
“I thought we might do some quid-pro-quo here,” she said in a raspy voice.
“What do you want?”
“We can get to that in due time. For now, I’d just like to know what you’ve turned up. Mayor Clemons said you aren’t very smart, but I think he underestimates you.” She reached across the table and stroked my forearm with her long-manicured fingers.
“So, you don’t deny you’re having an affair with the Mayor?”
She drew back her hand and sat erect with a stunned countenance. Her playfulness quickly returned, and I’d almost wondered if I imagined her surprise. I hadn’t.
“Oh. I see you like to play rough,” she said. “No, I’m not having an affair with him. He’s just a good friend. He and Bob and I sometimes go out together. Bob has ambitions.”
“Are you sure it’s Bob who has ambitions and not his wife?”
“You are a regular little firecracker. Let’s cut through the crap. You fill me in on what’s going on in your little investigation so Mayor Clemons doesn’t have to lose any sleep over your shenanigans, and I’ll help you find your brother’s killer. And for a bonus, you can have a shot at me.”
“A shot at you? What have you done?”
“I must be losing my touch. I’m suggesting we might have a little fling together. I saw how you were checking me out just now. I don’t normally swing that way, but I have to confess you are a striking woman. You have such firm muscle tone, and I’ll bet you are a wild thing in bed.”
“Gloria,” I said between clenched teeth. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she winced. “I . . . AM...NOT...GAY! I’m straight. Why does everyone think I’m gay?”
“You’re not?” She seemed amused. “But you‘re so butch. And Marshall . . . I mean Mayor Clemons said you were gay. Of course, now that I think of it, he was cursing you when he said it. I just thought you were.”
“Are you so attracted to me that you had to make a pass?”
“Not really. Bob and the Mayor asked me to talk to you. To see what I could find out about what you were doing. Marshall said things would go better for Bob if I cooperated. There’s some new deal brewing he’s offered to cut Bob in on if I help him.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I don’t know. That’s between them. But Marshall has been talking about a run for governor. I think he’s thinking about bringing Bob along with him to the capitol if he wins.”
“I must really be making things difficult for him.”
“You are, Sugar. Try to see it from his point of view. First you cause him terrible publicity when you roughed up that guy in the revolving door after he just announced his new community policing campaign. Then, your actions bring a lawsuit upon the city. And apparently, you’ve been skulking around City Hall which has everybody nervous. Marshall is worried that you’re going to make a big mess of things again.”
“His idea is to keep me locked up in my own home?”
“Could you blame him?”
I knew what she was after. She wanted to know if The Jet had told me anything the day he was shot at Cathedral Park. I wondered how they knew I was there.
“Look, Gloria, I’m nowhere, okay? I haven’t turned up one puny little lead. I was supposed to meet The Jet at Cathedral Park in St. John’s. But he was killed before he could tell me who hired him. And with him, he took the secret of who tried to have me killed and who killed my brother. I don’t know anything. If you do, I pray to God you’ll tell me now.”
I was in tears. A pretty convincing performance, but I didn’t have to dig very deep for emotions.
“You were there at the park when he was killed? Wow! That must have been scary. Did you talk to him? He must have given you some kind of clue.”
“Between the cannons they were shooting off I could only hear every other word. And he wasn’t very talkative. Just scared. He was going to skip town, and he wanted to tell me something, but it seeme
d like he couldn’t make up his mind. Then he was dead. The only person who could tell me who killed my brother was dead.”
I studied her facial expressions. Her lips curled downward and a few lines dared to reveal themselves on her forehead. She was considering my story. Wondering whether or not to believe me.
“It’s too bad he didn’t say something. It might have put the final nail in the case against the person police think killed your brother.”
“And who do they think the killer is?”
“I don’t know and that’s the truth. Marshall told me to tell you they expect to make an arrest in the next forty-eight hours. He asked me to beg you to back off and give them time to wrap up the case.”
Something in my reaction must have tipped her off to my answer.
“He isn’t your enemy. He just doesn’t want to be shown up as a schmuck in this whole thing. And you just made him one again with your little news conference at the funeral.”
“If you could give me something tangible to help me believe you,” I said.
“They know where he’s going to be at a certain time. Warrants are being drawn up. They plan to intercept him sometime in the next two days, as I said. I don’t know any more than that. I’m just the messenger.”
“Why didn’t someone official come to me? Why didn’t Steve tell me this?”
“No one wants to be around you after the fireworks you caused at the funeral. I’m surprised Marshall is even extending this olive branch. Be smart and show some patience.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Okay, I’ll sit tight. But you have to bring me in on it when the arrest happens.”
“I’ll ask Marshall about it.” We got up to leave and Gloria waited as I paid my bill. “Let me know if you change your mind about getting together. I think you’re kind of cute in a pedestrian sort of way.”
“No thanks,” I muttered as I brushed by her.
“I’ll call you,” she said and blew me a kiss.
Why, all of a sudden, did everyone think I was gay? I pulled a compact out of my purse and gave myself a once over. Hardly any makeup, my hair was thick and unwieldy, and my lips were chapped.
But to call me pedestrian? Not only was she a sex maniac, but a snob. But I thought I saw her motivation for our meeting. If Clemons had an eye on the governorship and he was single, it might give Gloria ideas. It would certainly explain why she fronted for him.
But what about her husband?
Chapter 20
He stood there, frozen in silhouette, waiting for me to make a move. I didn’t pay him much attention.
My thoughts drifted toward why Eileen and Gloria both thought I was gay. If they thought so, how many others were in on the conspiracy. What had I ever done to deserve the label? It’s the type of thing which makes you stop and think. Would I ever consider an alternative lifestyle? No, I liked men, damn it. Even if they—meaning Steve—seemed not to like me.
I was feeling sorry for myself. Things had not been going my way. My brother was dead, the only witness to the killing was murdered and Steve was mad at me again. Two women wanted my body, and I was no closer to finding Darrin’s killer other than Gloria’s vague assurance.
And I was angry. I’d held my emotions in check since the day I woke up in my hospital bed. I couldn’t be angry about being shot because I had to put on a positive front for my brothers. I couldn’t be angry about Darrin’s death because I had to find his killer. Then there was Steve, who remained distant through this whole thing and was mad at me despite the distance.
Did he think I was gay? If I had to be honest with myself, I’d admit he was the only man I have ever cared for.
I decided it was time to be angry. It’s why I showed up 30 minutes early on this arranged meeting. It was just me and him now, my Colt 1911 semi-automatic .45 at my side. He was unarmed and I didn’t care. I raised my gun and pointed it at the solitary figure 30 yards away.
“You are going to die a terrible death,” I cried. He mocked me, not showing the slightest fear.
“This is for killing my brother.” I squeezed the trigger and the gun jumped in my hand. Two rounds entered his head.
“This is for shooting me, you asshole!” Three more rounds tore into his heart.
“And this is for thinking I’m a lesbian.” Another round into his head and the sweet smell of cordite assailed my nose.
I wasn’t close enough to clearly see his face, but I felt his defiant sneer so I put the last two rounds into his groin.
“Need any help?” It was Detective Phil Richards.
“What the hell? Don’t ever come up on my blind side like that.”
“Sorry. I heard you yelling and I thought you might need some backup.”
“Very funny,” I said. “You’re lucky I’m out of ammo. I might shoot you too.”
Richards was young with brown soulful eyes, and a thin face.
“I don’t think I would have liked that, especially on our first date.”
“Oh? You like to take your dates to the shooting range?” I pondered the sterile grey walls and paper torsos hanging on clips 50 feet away. We were inside the police bureau’s new shooting training facility on Airport Way.
“Only my cop dates,” he said. “But I didn’t realize you were so fine or I would have picked a nice restaurant.”
I wasn’t in the mood to be flirted with. It occurred to me I’m never in much of a mood to be flirted with so I smiled at him.
He grinned. “You aren’t as tough as I heard.”
“Maybe I’m tired of always being tough,” I said. “Maybe I’m developing a soft side.”
“I’d ask you to go out to dinner later, but after you hear what I’ve got to say, you probably won’t feel like eating.”
“You’re on the investigative team with Steve, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He licked his lips and lowered his eyes to a .44 magnum he held. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. A bunch of us think your brother’s investigation has been mishandled.”
I waited.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but Steve has been taken off the case.”
“Why?”
“The Mayor has been micro-managing things since we started. And no matter what Steve does, the Mayor gives him grief for it. The Chief just goes along with everything the Mayor wants.”
“There’s been a lot of stress and most of it is probably my fault,” I said.
“True. But the Mayor wasn’t entirely convinced Steve should be in charge of this investigation from day one.”
“Why not?”
“Because of his connection to you. Clemons thought it might be a conflict of interest.”
“Well, he used to be my partner, so I guess I can understand it if he thinks Steve was too close to the situation.”
“Maybe,” Richards said. “Steve came on real strong with the Mayor and said he knew you and the family, and he’d be able to keep the investigation orderly and at the same time have an insight into possible motives.”
“What did he mean by orderly?”
“I guess he was referring to keeping you in line. The Mayor didn’t want you or your brothers to interfere with the ongoing investigation.”
“So, it was Clemons who had us under house arrest.”
“No, I think it was Steve’s idea, but it’s probably why the Mayor agreed to let him head the case.”
“I can’t believe Steve would hinder me without pressure.”
“You think so? I thought he got off on keeping you contained.”
“Why would you say such a thing?” I asked.
“You do know what Steve thinks about you, don’t you?”
“At one time I thought I did.” I remembered some of the intimate times during our partnership when I hoped he would take it to the next step. “But I have to confess I never understood that man.”
“You don’t know what he’s said about you?” Richards said.
“What do you mean?”
Richards shook his head. “The man hates you. He’s always complaining about how you stopped him from making Captain.”
“I never . . .” My face flushed.
“Scuttlebutt says because of all of your screw-ups, and his standing up for you, he was told he would never be promoted. It’s a miracle he made Lieutenant.”
“Steve told you he hates me?”
“Not exactly. Over the years he has complained about you being outspoken and getting into trouble a lot. I mean, whenever he goes down memory lane about you, he starts bitching about it. Eventually he explodes. Says he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past. But you can see he’s still angry about it.
“Did he tell you this?”
“All the time. You know I was his partner for three months. I asked for another assignment, because he was always griping. A real negative dude.”
I reloaded my gun, turned and took aim at the target, firing off four rounds. I missed entirely on two shots and caught the edges of the torso with two. I raised the gun again and took careful aim at the face. My hands shook, and I missed the whole damn target again. Richards didn’t say anything about my performance.
“I’m sorry to be the one to break the news,” he said. “I thought you knew.”
“And he said the reason he wasn’t promoted was because he couldn’t keep me in line?”
“I don’t think I ever heard him said that, but there was a lot of speculation among his fellow officers. You two were always in hot water and people noticed. You know there are no secrets downtown. Most people think he blames you for his situation.”
My heart ached. Richards might well as shot me because it hurt as badly as when The Jet took me down in the warehouse. I couldn’t believe Steve felt that way. I had always hoped he might return my feelings someday, but now I knew he never would.
“Why are you here?” I said.
“I wanted you to know, I think he’s gotten a raw deal,” Richards said.
“Then why are you trashing him to me?”
“I . . . didn’t mean to. I guess I wondered if you hated Steve too. Maybe it’s why you’re making all of this trouble for him.”