Bobby shook off the memory as he pulled up at the station. He wasn’t sure what his first day back would involve. Would his fellow officers slap him on the back and tell him not to sweat it, or would his locker be plastered with printed copies of the Miranda rights? He pulled his duffle bag from the trunk of his car and drew in a deep breath. No matter what was in store for him, the first day back would be a long one.
Chapter Three
The following day Piper walked hesitantly into the diner. Yesterday’s commotion had done more than just piss her off; it reminded her that she wasn’t invisible. A scene like that could be enough to draw the attention of the judge, attention she was trying to avoid.
Sitting on the opposite side of the diner wasn’t an option considering she needed to be outside the direct view of the judge in order to watch and listen to him. During the last couple weeks she had managed to overhear a few interesting conversations that the arrogant judge assumed were spoken in a code that no common person could decipher. She didn’t want her run-in with this guy Bobby to undermine her real goal. With that in mind she chose the booth adjacent to the one in which she had previously perched.
Betty sauntered up with her pad in hand and a smile across her wrinkled face. Something about her expression gave Piper a glimmer of joy. Betty’s bliss was as contagious as the flu. It was impossible to keep from smiling when she was shining her bright eyes at you.
“I’m so glad Bobby didn’t run you out of here. I was afraid he scared you off before I had a chance to find out more about you.” Betty’s heavy southern drawl was sweet delight, and the tone of her voice was as warm and welcoming as fresh-baked cookies. Piper had grown fond of her unique turn of phrase over the last couple of weeks.
“It takes more than a little fuss to keep me away,” Piper smirked wryly. She glanced over the menu, though she and Betty both knew that she’d be ordering the same thing she had for the last two weeks—a bowl of oatmeal with strawberries and syrup. It was the closest thing on the menu to the pouches of instant oatmeal she had grown accustomed to making herself as a child. Piper’s eating habits were so full of prepackaged food that she now found it hard to eat meals that didn’t come from a box.
“He isn’t a bad guy really. He’s a nice guy having some bad luck and taking it out on anyone who has the misfortune to get in his path.” Betty, to Piper’s surprise, sat down across from her in the booth. Apparently, the occasional unannounced break wasn’t frowned upon in this particular diner.
“In my experience when someone says, ‘I’m not a jerk once you get to know me’ what he really means is, ‘I’m a real ass but you’ll get used to it after a while,’” Piper said, thinking back to all the people she knew who fell into this category.
Betty let out a howl of a laugh and slapped her knee. “Isn’t that the truth? Well usually, but I can tell you that don’t apply to Bobby. You got my word.” Betty drew a cross over her heart with her finger as she continued, “So, I’ve been dying to know more about you. What’s your name? I’ve been meaning to ask you for some time but you always seem so focused.” Betty tucked her pencil behind her ear in true diner-waitress fashion. She dropped her pad on the table as if to indicate she had no plans for writing down any orders until she heard some answers.
Piper hesitated, separating in her head her old life from this new one. Remember the right name, remember the right details, she told herself before speaking. No matter how much time passed, when you were told never to speak your real name again, it always felt like it was dancing at the back of your throat, about to jump out.
“Piper Anderson,” she said, stumbling a little. She was convinced it didn’t sound natural, and she felt her face flush slightly.
“Oh my word, what a sweet name that is,” Betty said in her singsong voice and Piper felt her shoulders relax. “Are you a student? You look like a student.”
“I was in school, but I quit. And I know how dumb that sounds, but I can assure you it wasn't because I drank too much or slept through my classes or anything.” Piper had begun anticipating people’s disappointment upon hearing her status as a college dropout, and she felt it easier to head-off that conversation early.
“Oh you won’t get any lecture out of me, that’s for sure. If I had a nickel for everything I’ve ever quit I wouldn’t be serving eggs to assholes every morning at five a.m.” Piper appreciated the way Betty didn’t clean up her language for her sake. A few good curse words were pretty refreshing. “What were you going to school for anyway?” She tucked her hand inquisitively under her chin and glanced at Piper over the rim of her eyeglasses sitting low on her nose.
“I was going to school for criminal justice,” Piper said, waiting for her to respond. But Betty’s strategically placed silence worked perfectly, making Piper feel obligated to continue. “The first year was all about the idea of justice and how lucky we were to live in a society like ours. The second year was reality, which is how lucky criminals are to live in a society like ours. Once I saw a handful of really repulsive people rejoin the general population because of one loophole or another, I realized I’d better save my time and money.” Piper let the words flow from her mouth easily rather than catching them at the back of her throat and scanning them for any slip-up or misstep as she usually did when speaking to people. Betty seemed to put her at ease. She made her want to talk, which was not an easy task.
“Well that’s not something you need to explain to me, especially not in this shady town. My husband was a cop for sixteen years, the entire length of our marriage. He started two weeks after our wedding day.” She pursed her lips in what Piper read as anger.
“Are you divorced?” The question was forward but Betty didn’t seem to mind a direct question. She certainly didn’t mind asking them.
“Widowed, he died on the job.” Betty swallowed hard. “That’s why I started working here. I couldn’t stay in the house anymore and carry all that grief. All my mind did was work through the conspiracy theories.”
“Conspiracy theories? What do you mean?” Piper thought Betty to be eccentric but not an alien-chasing kind of crazy.
“Nothing they ever told me about his death made any sense. He was meticulous about how he did his job, how he took care of his weapons. It’ll be eleven years this fall and I swear there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what really happened to my husband. My Stan was a good cop and a smart man. He wouldn’t have walked into a situation without proper backup or with a dirty weapon that would jam. I should have known by the way he had been acting the few months leading up to it that something wasn’t right, but I tried to mind my own business. I don’t trust a single cop in this town besides Bobby, and especially the ones Stan thought were his friends. Not one of them came by the house to see how Julie and I were doing. I mean, she was only fifteen years old and burying her father. If it weren’t for Bobby I’m not sure how she would have made it through.” Betty seemed lost in thought as she trailed off.
“Are you and Bobby related?” Piper asked, genuinely interested in the answer. Piper had overheard enough of Betty’s conversations to realize there was always something worth hearing.
“He grew up next door to us, which in these parts practically makes you kin. His father is a businessman and wasn’t around too much, a cat’s-in-the-cradle type thing. So Stan took to spending time with him. He coached his baseball team and such. Bobby took it real hard when Stan died, but even at fifteen he was a great support to my Julie. They were thick as thieves since they were about ten years old. They rode out all their growing pains together, and if you’d have asked me a couple years ago I’d’ve told you they’d be married by now.” Betty was lost in a sweet memory for a moment.
“But as Bobby got older it became clear he was determined to join the force. It was all he talked about. Julie couldn’t deal with it. She wasn’t willing to put herself through the risk of losing someone she loved again, and they’ve never been the same since. She went off and married this
moron. I don’t use the term moron lightly either. The boy doesn't know whether to check his ass or scratch his watch. She and Scott met one week after Bobby left for the academy. For the life of me, I could not see what she found appealing in this lump of a man. They dated for about six weeks and Jules was acting like a lovestruck puppy. I finally called her out on it and she told me that Scott was all she ever wanted. He was simple, which I thought to be the understatement of the century. He had a good safe job and wanted a normal life. What I started to realize was that my daughter was trying to be with someone she didn’t love who had a very low-risk job. She was looking for the complete opposite of Bobby, and I give her credit. If nothing else Scott was certainly that. I told myself I’d let her get this out of her system and when Bobby came back from the academy, he’d help me set all this right. But then that spiteful little hothead went and eloped the night before Bobby was set to come home. It was a nightmare. I didn’t like Bobby joining the force either, but I never expected Jules to go out and do something so impulsive and frankly dumb. To be honest, I couldn’t forgive Bobby myself for a while until I realized how proud Stan would’ve been of him for becoming a cop. That made it all a little easier. But listen to me ramble on about my old, dusty history. I just wanted you to know that I got it when you said the system wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I think I’ll go to my grave not knowing what happened to Stan.” Betty’s voice was barely above a whisper and she frequently looked over her shoulder, checking to see who might be listening.
“I’m sorry to hear all that, Betty, and I hope you do find out someday.” Empathy didn’t come easily to Piper, but she had watched enough television in her day to be able to fake it.
“And now?” Betty let the words drag out, saying them slowly and inquisitively. The question seemed to strike Piper unexpectedly, as though the air leaving her lungs was being pulled by a vacuum. Filling the void in conversation, Betty thought she should frame up that vague question a little. “Do you have a job or are you independently wealthy or something?” She leaned in closely and whispered slyly, “Old family money?” She winked as if to say, your secret is safe with me. Which Piper doubted it would be.
“No, don't I wish. I’m looking for a job. I haven’t found anything that suits me quite yet.” Piper tucked the loose hair that had fallen toward her face behind her ears. She always thought it made her look mousy and studious with it pulled back but she couldn’t stand to have it in her eyes.
“We’re always looking for some help on the graveyard shift here. It pays crap and is boring as hell but you can’t screw it up.” Betty leaned back and raised an eyebrow at Piper, goading her to take her up on the offer.
“That sounds like a challenge, because, trust me, I could certainly screw it up. I’d be a terrible waitress. Frankly, I don’t like people all that much, and I have the patience of a two year old. I appreciate the offer, but it’s not something I would be any good at.” The thought of working in a diner, wearing that hideous getup and pulling her hair into a bun was enough to make Piper queasy. She’d rather rob a bank and live on the run than come home with a pocket full of loose change and smelling like bacon.
“Is there anything you’re good at?” Betty asked, seemingly disappointed to not have Piper signed on as the newest addition at the diner.
“Not particularly. I’ve always liked computers. I’m pretty savvy with technology I guess. But without a degree I’m sure there isn’t much work out there for me,” Piper said, shrugging it off.
“Well, not so fast. My moron of a son-in-law happens to work for the cable company. Since no one seems to be able to live without cable now I know his place is always hiring. That’s all that computer and technology junk right? You could get a job there.” Betty’s face was lit again with the spark of excitement. It was clear the thought of being a part of something, being a help to someone made joy rise within her.
As Piper began to decline, Betty cut in with something interesting. This could be something that would again open a door, quite literally, for Piper and her greater plan. “You know everyone lets the cable company in their house. Think of how many dirty little secrets you’ll be finding out, and you can come back here and gossip until we’re blue in the face about it. Who’s ordering dirty movies, whose house is a disaster? You know, all that good stuff.”
Dirty little secrets? Piper thought. Betty was right; everyone lets the cable company in. It would be easy access to someone’s home. She might be on to something.
“Betty, that sounds like a really nice offer, but I couldn’t put you out like that.” Betty cut into Piper’s words with the waving of her hands.
“That boy owes me so many favors I can’t even dream up enough ways to collect on them. The biggest of all is the fact that I let the idiot live after he married my daughter. I’m telling you, he's usually as useful as a screen door on a submarine so trust me, if there is something he can actually do to help, then he should.”
“But you don’t owe me anything, so why would you help me?” Piper furrowed her brow, for the first time letting her skeptical nature shine through.
“I consider myself a pretty sharp judge of character, and you, my girl, seem like a good kid. I haven’t quite gotten you all figured out, but I’ve seen enough to know I like what I see. Now come on over to my house tomorrow for dinner, and I’ll have my daughter and my son-in-law over. We can talk details. I have to get back to work, so I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Betty patted Piper’s hand and stood. She pulled her pencil from behind her ear and jotted an address on her order pad, ripped it skillfully, and handed it to Piper.
“That sounds good but…” Piper said sheepishly.
“Oh Piper, it’s no trouble. I guess you’re one of those people who don't like to take help from anyone… but, it’s nothing.” Her hands were perched on her hips and had a “not taking no for an answer” kind of look.
“I was just going to say I was hungry. I haven’t eaten yet.” The two broke out into a laugh as Betty slapped her hand across her forehead. “Coming right up,” she called as she hustled into the kitchen.
Chapter Four
The average person might take for granted how much an upbringing prepares one for adulthood. By the time most people hit their mid-twenties they are, at a bare minimum, equipped to attend a casual dinner at the home of an acquaintance. But, of course, most folks don’t have the paralyzing social ineptitude that comes from being raised by criminals.
Piper sat in front of her computer staring at the void line of a ready and waiting search engine. She wasn’t quite sure how to word her inquiry, and it had her eyes practically crossing as she tried to focus on the screen.
Finally she typed in “How to act at a dinner party” and hit enter. Much to her surprise she was met with over seven hundred thousand results. Perhaps she wasn’t the only person in the world not given the tools to succeed. And, like so many times before, the vast information floating around the Internet had saved the day.
She browsed over each link and settled for the blog including five easy steps of dinner party etiquette. She figured she couldn’t possibly go wrong with five easy steps. She pulled out her notebook and proceeded to jot them down. She always seemed to retain more information when she was writing it for herself.
Step 1: Always bring a gift or dish for the host and hostess.
Step 2: Unfold your napkin and place it across your lap. When your meal is finished place the napkin neatly back on the table.
Step 3: Wait your turn for food. It is traditional to serve the most senior lady at the table, then the other ladies in descending order of rank (usually equating to age unless you have royalty staying), and lastly the gentlemen. Never start eating until the hostess begins to eat.
Step 4: With many different sets of cutlery beside the plate, start at the outside and work in. If in doubt, look at what the other guests are using.
Step 5: Make polite conversation with those guests around you. Dinner parties are not ju
st about the food; they are intended to be a sociable occasion.
Piper closed her notebook feeling like those were pretty manageable rules to follow. Now she just had to pick something to wear and which dish she would bring for Betty, considering her plates were all pretty plain.
As Piper approached the house at the address Betty had given her, she felt tightness in her chest. Social endeavors of any kind were something she avoided. She continued to remind herself this would all be worth it when she was working at the cable company and coming and going out of people’s houses without having to put breaking and entering onto her record.
Betty’s home was fairly unassuming and old-fashioned. Parts of it teetered on being in disrepair in Piper’s opinion. The clapboard siding was faded with the paint chipping and peeling. The bones of the house seemed tired but the attempts at keeping it fresh were easy to see. The garden was full of fresh blossoms and the hedges that hugged the outside of the house were well-kept and blooming beautifully. The windows were sparkling, and white cotton sheer curtains were blowing in and out of them with the breeze. The front porch had an old style hanging swing with floral cushions that Piper immediately found inviting. She imagined how relaxing it would be to waste away an afternoon there.
It was farther outside of town than Piper expected. She didn’t realize Betty had a twenty-minute drive to work each day and that the house would be tucked so far from the road. The long dirt driveway was lined with trees and an old stone wall that had seen better days. It was quieter here than any place Piper had ever been. The only real noises she heard were the idling of her own car engine and the birds chirping in the trees.
Chasing Justice Page 3