On the plus side, Danny wasn’t getting a lot of calls from women.
I called my mother and told her I had plans for dinner, which went over like a lead balloon, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t fathom spending the evening listening to Brian’s campaign platform, unless maybe I was bound and sedated. Besides, I had a date with a man who had a big... truck.
I flipped the computer screen on and went back online. I love the interwebs. I went to Google again, and then sat there. I had this incredible search engine at my disposal, and I had no idea what I was supposed to search for. I stared out the window. A gray Ford Escort was parked at the curb in front of the topless man’s house, and I wondered if it was a laundry service, here to return all his shirts. Hopefully, they wouldn’t take away all his pants. Other than that, the street was empty. After a few minutes, a woman walking a scruffy, disreputable-looking mutt appeared in my line of sight and then disappeared again at the other edge of the window.
Dammit, Alex, think.
For the hell of it, I typed in Michael Salazar, Jr. I got a few hits for a Michael Salazar, Jr., M.D. who had written an article on penile dysfunction. I clicked on one of the headings and a medical article appeared, complete with some rather disturbing photographs. I guess photography isn’t always the glamorous job of taking pictures of beautiful models. I clicked back to get back to Google and did a search for the Minter newspaper.
The Sun-Herald’s home page was laid out with current news headlines, weather and sports scores over the bulk of the screen, with the left column reserved for other links. There was a search option, so I typed in Michael Salazar, Jr. again and hit go.
The headline for an article from sixteen years earlier popped up on screen, along with the notice that if I wanted to read the article, I had to subscribe to the online newspaper. I filled out the subscription page and dug my credit card out of my wallet so I could enter the payment information. I submitted the page and waited for the electronic response. Two minutes later, I was looking at the article.
The facts were far less sinister than what I had remembered. Basically, Junior had been drinking, a month before his eighteenth birthday, at a dive bar that had a reputation for violence, and had gotten into a drunken brawl with a much older guy over a somewhat older girl. Somehow, a gun appeared, and the man got dead. It was certainly bad, but it seemed to me more the result of alcohol and a genetically bad temper than pure, unadulterated evil. Would the Junior who killed a man in a drunken rage kill a man in cold blood and set his own brother up to take the blame? It seemed far-fetched, but people had done a lot worse, I supposed.
There were no more articles on Junior Salazar, and I couldn’t think of anything else to search, so I returned to the Garden Tour poster. It took awhile, but eventually I came up with a design that was not only more appropriate than my earlier attempt, but actually pretty darn good. Lettering wound around tree trunks like ivy, inviting one and all to the annual event. It beat the heck out of cemeteries, so I emailed it off and shut down the computer. I went to the kitchen to make a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of cheese and crackers. As usual, I was starving, and Pauline was due any minute.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I thought you said you were going out with Murphy tonight. You need to be prepared.”
“I am prepared. I said we had a date. I didn’t say I was going to bring him home and fuck him till next Thursday.”
Pauline and I were drinking iced tea in my living room, our feet up on the coffee table. I finished the cheese and crackers five minutes before she arrived. She’d stopped by after work, as promised, to find out why I was looking into calls made to Danny’s phone numbers. I’d given her the nickel tour of my new house, and she made a big production of looking for condoms in my night table. There was one. Only one.
“How long has it been?”
“Well, let’s see...” I thought back.
“Forget it. If you can’t remember, it’s been too long.” That much I knew.
She opened her purse and dug around, pulling out a mascara and a stun gun before finding what she was looking for.
“Here, take these.” She handed me a pack of five condoms, which I threw on the coffee table.
“Why do you have a stun gun?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You never know. There’s weirdos out there.”
Uh-hunh.
School was out and Danny worked at the gravel yard, shoveling gravel all day in the sweltering heat until it was time for baseball practice or a game. By contrast, I lived the life of leisure. I worked at the mall, doling out ice cream cones and banana splits at Baskin Robbins three afternoons a week. But my primary occupation was working on my tan. I would lie out by the pool for hours, reading fashion magazines and romance novels, or sometimes Pauline and I would ride our bikes out to the lake to sun ourselves and do our part to drive the local boys crazy. The good life.
Danny would appear out of nowhere when nobody was home, or else he’d call and invite me over for an iced tea. To this day, I have a hard time ordering an iced tea in a restaurant, for fear of what the waiter will do. Danny was still dating Sherry, and I was still dating Derek, and that was just fine with me. I felt like I had the best of all possible worlds - a safe, non-threatening boyfriend who didn’t give my father heart palpitations, and mind-blowing sex with a guy no one would believe had ever even noticed me. The only negative was that I couldn’t talk to anybody about it. Danny had never asked me to keep our relationship, if that’s what it was, a secret. I was the one who didn’t want anyone to know. And as much as I wanted to tell Pauline every sordid detail, somehow I just couldn’t. So I explained my periodic good moods as a result of lots of fresh air, and let it go at that.
Pauline and I had gone to watch the baseball game one night. My mother was proud of how supportive I’d become of my brother, going to watch most of his games when I’d never cared about them in the least before. Truthfully, I had no idea what position Kevin played. The game had ended, and Pauline and I were heading to the parking lot when one of the umpires stopped us. Boys were always stopping Pauline. She went into flirt mode, and I stood around looking goofy, waiting for the exchange of phone numbers so we could leave. Danny came up behind us, whispered in my ear some very interesting things he thought he might like to do to me sometime soon, then walked on past. My face flushed and my knees got a little wobbly and Pauline ended the conversation with the ump immediately, squeezing my arm and steering me towards the car.
“Did Danny Salazar just hit on you? Oh my god! What did he say?” I could see her mind racing. This would be big news, if it were true.
“Why would Danny Salazar hit on me? Am I blonde? Do I giggle uncontrollably? Is half my body weight in my chest?”
Pauline nodded. “You’re right. Jeez, for a minute there, I almost thought that disgusting display at the kissing booth was for real.”
“Honestly, Alex, I know you’re going through a dry spell, and fantasies are good and all, but couldn’t you come up with something a little more believable? I mean, you and Danny Salazar? Please.”
“It’s true. You almost figured it out once.”
Pauline scoffed.
“Look, I’m telling you the truth, and you’re just going to have to believe me, whether you want to or not.”
“Not a chance. I want proof.”
“Well, you could call and ask him. Or you could ask Kevin, I guess.”
“Kevin knows? How come he didn’t tell your parents?”
“He figured it out, but that was right before Danny left for college, so I guess he thought there was no sense in ratting me out at that point.” I omitted the part about how Kevin had figured it out, because it was sort of gross and embarrassing.
“I thought I was your best friend,” Pauline whined, looking hurt, “how could you not tell me?”
“I don’t know. I just didn’t want anyone to know. I mean, it was like a dream, you know? The kind you don’t want to wake up from, and I was afrai
d if I told anybody, they’d point out that I was just hallucinating and Danny wasn’t real. Or at least, Danny and I weren’t real. Let’s face it, I’m not exactly his type.” As she’d so kindly pointed out not more than five minutes ago.
“Well, you still should have told me. I guess I can understand it, though. I mean, shit, Danny Salazar? Your father would have flipped. I guess the only thing worse would have been Junior. Course, he was in jail already. Hunh.”
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“I should be, but I’ve decided to let you off the hook,” she replied, serious, “on one condition.”
“What?”
She leaned forward, eyes huge. “How was he?”
I groaned. “Jesus, Pauline, I can still have an orgasm just thinking about him.”
She considered that, then nodded. “Well, sure, but you have no frame of reference. I mean, you’ve been married to Max for five years.” She stared at me a second, her eyes narrowing to little slits. “You’re not thinking about Danny right now, are you?”
I was, but not in an orgasmy way. I shook my head no.
“Thank goodness.” She gave a shiver. “Okay, fine, you’re off the hook. Now tell me what’s going on with him and your brother, and why you want to know who’s calling him on Saturday nights.”
I gave her the run-down on what I knew about what had happened at the body shop. I left out the information I’d gotten from Jimmy C, since I’d promised him I wouldn’t say anything, and since it didn’t amount to anything more than speculation about Junior anyway.
“How’s your brother holding up?”
As if on cue, my brother unlocked the front door and walked in, his motorcycle helmet under one arm. I had given him a key so he could water the plants and stuff if I was ever out of town. Right now, it looked very much to me like I was home and could water my own damn plants, if I had gotten around to getting any. He looked at me and grunted. Then he looked at Pauline and dropped the caveman routine.
“Hey Pauline, how’s it going?”
“Fine. Jeez, Kevin, I’m really sorry about everything. Are you okay?”
He shrugged. Then he glanced at me and made the go away face. I stuck my tongue out at him. For crissake, it was my house, and I guessed I could sit in my own living room if I wanted to. Just then the door opened again and Jack Murphy walked in. I grabbed the condoms off the coffee table and stuffed them in my jeans.
“Jesus, haven’t either of you heard of knocking?”
They looked at me like I had PMS. I needed to change for my date with Jack, so I hauled Pauline up and herded her to my room. I heard the guys rummaging for beers, I figured, in the refrigerator. I peeled off my jeans and threw the condoms in the drawer. I pulled on a skirt that I thought I could climb into the truck in without being arrested for indecent exposure, and a pink t-shirt that said rock star in little bitty rhinestones. I tried on some pink sandals, but it looked too matchy, and Pauline wrinkled her nose by way of a veto. I kicked the sandals into the closet and slid my feet into a pair of black platform flip-flops.
“Better?”
Pauline nodded. “Is your brother seeing someone?” she asked. She was looking in my mirror, fluffing up her curly blond mane and wiping away imaginary blemishes from her cheeks. We’d spent equal amounts of time in the sun throughout the years, but where I was getting a couple of lines around my eyes, she still had smooth, flawless skin. Bitch.
I shrugged. I doubted it. Kevin’s track record wasn’t too great. He usually dated someone once or twice and then they moved on. He wasn’t a good catch. He was good looking, about five feet, ten inches tall and well-built in a brother kind of way, with dark hair and blue eyes like my mom’s. And he was basically a good guy, just not that motivated. He still worked at the motorcycle shop as a mechanic, and he seemed content to do that forever. It paid his bills, but I doubted it would pay for two-point-one children and a mortgage, a couple of cars and college, and I was pretty sure most women his age were starting to look for that.
“You mind if I ask him out?”
“Go right ahead. If he brings you back here, though, I’ll kill you both.”
She made a face, opened the drawer of my night table and took back all but all but two of the condoms. “I might need these tonight after all.”
Eew.
We got a booth at Main Street Pizza, Jack sitting so he could see the baseball game on the big screen TV behind me, which didn’t strike me as a great start to a date but I was admittedly a little out of practice, so I wasn’t exactly sure. I had a clear view of the door, so I saw Danny Salazar the minute he walked in.
Unfortunately, he also saw me. And Jack. Across the restaurant, I could see his face go dark, and he turned to the counter to place his to-go order, then sat on the bench to wait for his pizza. I kicked Jack under the table with my platform sandal to get his attention and told him I’d be back. He nodded.
I plunked myself down on the bench next to Danny. No one else was waiting for an order. He took in my little skirt and rock star t-shirt.
“Go back to your contractor, Lex.” He was in a bad mood.
“No. I mean, I will, but first I want to ask you something.” He didn’t jump up and run away, so I went on. “Do you think your brother could kill somebody and set you up to take the blame?”
He hesitated and then shook his head no. But I could see the thought had crossed his mind. “No, Mikey wouldn’t do that to me. I know what it looks like, with him wanting the body shop land and all, but it has to be something else.” He was trying as hard to convince himself as he was to convince me, I thought. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “It seems the cops have no theories, other than you and Kevin are as stupid as the Thompson boys, and you were acting on behalf of your brother. But there were no gummy bears at the body shop, and since it seems unlikely that anyone is as stupid as Mo and Mark Thompson, I figure there’s got to be another explanation. One that leaps to mind is that Junior did it and is letting you and my brother take the fall.”
“Gummy bears?” He shook his head, confused, then let it drop. “Even if Mikey did kill the guy and set the fire, which I don’t believe, what possible reason would he have for screwing me over like that?”
“He could resent you, I guess. Maybe he’s jealous of all that you’ve been able to do while he was sitting in a jail cell, killing time, even though you had nothing to do with him being there. I guess prison can do strange things to people.”
“We’ve always gotten along pretty well. I never get the sense he blames anyone besides himself for the way his life has gone so far. And he’s been a model citizen since he got out.” He shook his head. “But he used to get mad at the attention I got when we were kids. People let me get away with things, and they didn’t hold it against me that my dad was Mike Salazar, at least not too much. But Mikey never got any special treatment because people weren’t counting on him to help bring home another friggin’ baseball trophy. In fact, people always expected the worst of Mikey, and after awhile, I guess it was just easier to give ’em what they wanted.”
“I thought he goes by Junior now.”
Danny nodded. “Yeah, but the family still calls him Mikey. Hard to switch, I guess.”
He hadn’t removed his sunglasses when he came inside, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it was obvious in the way he slumped on the bench that he was exhausted. I let the topic of his brother drop.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m suspended, pending the investigation. The cops don’t seem to be looking for anyone else, as you pointed out, except possibly my brother, which only makes them like me even more, at least for the fire. Your brother might go to jail because he was stupid enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, thanks to me.” He looked across the restaurant at Jack, then back to me and started to say something else, but evidently thought better of it and shook his head. “I guess that about sums it up.”
“How can they suspend you? Yo
u haven’t even been arrested.”
“The fire department takes a decidedly dim view of its employees setting fires. The suspension is with pay at this point. If they arrest me, it won’t be.” He paused, looking at my shoes. “Sexy.” That didn’t mean much. Danny thought salad was sexy.
“Is there anything I can do?” Run away with you to Mexico? Fix you a sandwich? Make love to you here on this bench? I was open to suggestions.
He sighed. “Can you turn back the clock? To before the phone call Saturday night, so I could tell the guy I couldn’t come over to his office to put my fingerprints all over the light switches and implicate myself in a murder I had nothing to do with?”
I was thinking that if I could turn back time, I would turn it back a hell of a lot farther than that. “They’re called switch plates.”
“What?”
“Switch plates. The light switch cover thingies. They’re by the blow torches.”
“Hey babe, pizza’s here,” Jack yelled from the table. I grimaced. Danny rolled his eyes and set his jaw, and I knew he was done talking to me for tonight.
I put my hand on his leg, friendly, not sexy. Well, that was my intent. But touching him, even through the denim of his pants, sent a flare of heat throughout my body, including areas that didn’t qualify as merely friendly. I pulled my hand away before it melted. “It’s going to work out,” I said, not sure why or how. Then I went back to my table.
I watched Danny till he left with his pizza. He didn’t look in my direction again. When he was gone, I switched sides and sat next to Jack so I could watch the game too, and he filled me in on the progress on my house during commercials. The plumbing in the bathrooms was done, and he had started on the leaks in the roof. The doorbell and the bedroom floor were still on the list, along with the annoying squeak. It was dark by the time the game ended, and I had to admit I’d had a good time.
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