When She Was Bad

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When She Was Bad Page 6

by Cynthia Luhrs


  “Thanks.” I paid the guy and stood back. “Come on in. You and Midnight are like a bottomless pit.”

  She skipped in the door and immediately went to the cabinet where I kept a package of treats for the cat.

  “Can I give him two or three?”

  I grinned at the kid. “How about two? I think he’s getting a little chunky from all the treats you’ve been giving him.”

  “But he’s hungry,” she said as the cat rubbed against her legs. Today she had on a pair of shorts that looked too big and a shirt that looked too small. I was going to have to do something about it.

  “Midnight’s always hungry. And he’s even better at convincing you he’s starving. Why don’t you set the table while I get the drinks?” I opened the fridge. “Cherry or grape?”

  “I think orange soda goes better with Chinese, don’t you?”

  I grinned at her. “Orange it is.” The bottles were icy cold, and I took them to the table. It was sprinkling, so we were eating inside.

  “The table looks nice. I see you found the red napkins.”

  “They go better with the food.”

  I guessed they did. She smiled, and I noticed she was missing a tooth on the bottom—did the tooth fairy bring her any money? Knowing her mother, she probably found a cigarette under her pillow.

  We sat down to eat, and Midnight jumped onto the chair beside Maddy, casting hopeful looks her way. She patted him on the head as she chattered away about school. After dinner, she loaded the dishwasher without being asked.

  “Look, another tooth is loose.” She opened her mouth wide, her finger with the chipped purple polish wiggling a tooth on the top back and forth.

  “Sure is. Want me to yank it out?”

  “No way. It will hurt.”

  I laughed. “Don’t forget to put it under your pillow when it falls out.”

  “The tooth fairy left me a quarter last time.”

  As much as I’d like to, I didn’t say anything, but made a note to take care of it in my own way. The kid rummaged in her backpack and came up with a package.

  “Happy birthday,” she sang at the top of her lungs, sending Midnight running for the bedroom to escape the racket.

  My real birthday was in January, but according to my new identity, it was July first. My throat closed up when she handed me the package, wrapped in hand-colored paper. It looked like she’d taken packing paper from a box and colored the outside. The wrinkles had been carefully smoothed out, and the gesture touched my black heart.

  “You’re so sweet.” I held it up, shaking it. “I wonder what it could be?”

  She practically vibrated off the floor, she was so excited.

  “Wait. Open your card first.” There was a picture of a black cat with hearts all around his head, and beside him, two stick figures that I guessed were the two of us. The card said, Happy birthday to Hope, my best friend. The thing inside stepped back from the light, and I smiled at her.

  “It’s the nicest card anyone’s ever given me. Thank you.”

  “Now you can open your present.”

  The package was heavy, and when the paper fell away, I saw a rock. When I turned it over, I saw she’d painted a picture of the meadow with a cow and a tiny black dot I guessed was Midnight. That cat was fascinated by the cows, following them around and rubbing noses. Maddy kept feeding him the way she had been and he’d turn into a cow.

  I hugged her tight. “It’s beautiful. You did a great job. You know, I think you should take art classes. You’re really talented, Maddy.”

  “I love to paint but I can’t take classes. Mama doesn’t have any extra money. But it’s okay. You taught me how, and when we have free time at school, I watch videos online of people painting.”

  I looked around the living room. “Where should we put it? I want to see your art every day.”

  She took the flat stone from me, went over to the mantel, and reached up on her tiptoes to put it against the wall. Standing back, she put her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side.

  “I think this is a great place. You can see it from the couch and from the kitchen.” She turned to face me. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s perfect, just like you. Best birthday gift ever.”

  Before it turned dark, I sent her home. “Hurry. Your mama will be wanting you.”

  “Bye, Hope. See you soon.”

  After she left, I emailed her art teacher, and before I went to bed, she’d responded. There were art classes in the basement of the church once a week. I paid for the rest of the year and told her to tell Maddy it was a gift from the tooth fairy. For the first night since I’d left North Carolina, I slept through the entire night.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE TARGET WAS ALREADY DEAD. He just didn’t know it. Ryder watched through the scope as a guy named Chris, according to the name on his shirt, monitored meat coming down the line to end up in the packaging area at Blesser Meatpacking.

  The intel said his target would be here tonight, so Ryder waited above the factory floor, hidden in the beams above. People rarely looked up as they went about their lives, making it a perfect spot to find out more, though he couldn’t say why he was wasting the time, only that lately he’d been more…curious.

  What the bloody hell was the guy doing? As Ryder watched, he saw the meat moving along on the conveyer belt, and when it got to Chris, a gas mixture was applied and then the packaging was sealed and the meat moved down the line, where it would be packed in trucks and then delivered to grocery stores. Through the scope, Ryder could see carbon monoxide listed on the canister.

  A flash of light drew his attention. There was his target. The man’s name was Herman Licht, and he was busy filming the scene, but to what purpose? In the end, it didn’t matter. Ryder had accepted the job and he would complete it. While he waited for Herman to finish whatever he was doing and leave, Chris turned and saw the man.

  “Hey, you can’t be in here,” Chris yelled, hitting the button to stop the line before he ran after Herman.

  Leave it to a civilian to fuck things up. Ryder walked across the beams, keeping track of his target. If possible, he’d leave the worker alive. A door slammed.

  “Shit. The boss is going to have my head.” Chris looked at the door then shrugged and went back to his job, the hum of machinery breaking the quiet.

  From his vantage point, Ryder saw the target crouched down behind boxes, waiting for his chance to run for his vehicle, but there were too many people around, even at this time of night, so Ryder settled in to wait. For a second he wondered what the guy had done, and why he had been filming the meatpacking and not the animals? But he dismissed the thought and mentally added the fee to his balance, taking him one step closer to his island.

  A buzzer sounded throughout the plant, signaling a shift change, and Ryder made his move. Herman had made it to his car and out the gates, thinking he was safe. He was mistaken.

  The tracker on the vehicle gave Ryder plenty of time as he stowed the high-powered custom rifle and checked his handguns. It was a full moon, so he didn’t bother with headlights as he followed Herman to the perfect spot.

  It would look like an accident, a man losing control around a curve. Which he would, as Ryder had made a few adjustments to the vehicle.

  The car hit the guardrail at high speed and crashed through, and before it came to a stop, Ryder pressed a tiny button. The explosion would wipe away any evidence, the device he’d used untraceable. Ryder sent the picture via text and waited for Delores to confirm the hit. It had been a mistake to go to the plant. She’d left a mark, become a troubling influence.

  “Confirmation received. The money has been wired to your account.”

  “Thank you, Delores.”

  “Mr. Maddox? We know you don’t normally accept another job right away, but there is a situation in Turkey requiring your expertise. The client requires something subtle and is doubling the fee if you will leave tomorrow.”

  He t
hought for a moment. “I accept.”

  “Details will be transmitted in ten minutes. Thank you for breaking your protocol.”

  Once he’d confirmed the money in his account, Ryder checked his watch. There was time for one more stop. To look in, see if she’d kept her vow. A part of him, deep inside, one he usually refused to acknowledge, wanted her to succeed and find peace. At least one of them should.

  I’d worked a double shift, and was tired as I drove out of the parking lot late Saturday afternoon. On the way home, I passed the shabby house where Maddy lived. At one time the house must have been cheerful, but now it looked forlorn, the picket fence no longer white, the paint flaked off in chunks, making it look like it had been sponge-painted gray and white. The yard was overgrown with weeds, although there was one small patch that had been mowed. The house itself was in desperate need of a coat of paint and a bit of sprucing up. An old porch swing hung from rusty chains, and Maddy sat perched on the pale yellow slats as she slowly swung back and forth, her little shoulders slumped, utter dejection in the lines of her body. I eased my foot off the gas and rolled to a stop.

  “Hey, what’s going on, green bean?”

  The porch light illuminated her face. It was red and splotchy, and her lip quivered. “I’m locked out. Mama took my key when she couldn’t find hers, and she hasn’t come back yet. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

  “You slept outside?”

  The kid slumped even further down the swing. “It’s warm enough and I slept on the swing, but it wasn’t very comfortable.”

  “Is there a key your mama hides for when she forgets hers?”

  “No, she said we only have the two, hers and mine.”

  The darkness filled me with energy and anger. Given what I knew about Betty Spencer, I guessed there had to be a key—if not for her then for one of the many men who seemed to come and go, rarely staying longer than a few weeks.

  “I bet she forgot about it. Help me look.”

  I poked around the porch, checked the door and flowerpots, but no luck. Maddy halfheartedly kicked at the grass and looked around the yard. On the side of the house, a flowerpot nestled in the weeds caught my eye. But when I tipped it up, nothing. I didn’t know what made me do it, but I stuck my fingers in the dirt and felt around. The key looked like it had been buried for a while.

  “Got it. Let’s see if it works.”

  “How’d you know it would be there?”

  “I didn’t, but most people usually keep a spare key around in case they get locked out. Just make sure you put it back and hide it somewhere only you know where it is, then you always have it if you need it.”

  She opened the door and turned, waiting for me to follow her inside. The house reeked of cigarettes and booze, there was an overturned bottle on the coffee table, and the ashtrays overflowed. From where I stood, I saw dishes piled in the sink and on the counters. It smelled like a garbage dump. Not wanting to hurt Maddy’s feelings, I wiped the look of disgust from my face. The kid opened and closed several cabinets before she went to the refrigerator and yanked the door open, then she did the same with the freezer.

  They were all empty. I pressed my lips together so hard that I felt my teeth cutting into my lower lip.

  “Come on, let’s go grab dinner.”

  The kid brightened. “How about the café? They have really good fried chicken.”

  “You got it.”

  We sat at a table next to the window, and I forced myself to stop clenching the blue gingham tablecloth in my fist. When the waitress appeared, the kid looked at the menu and bit her lip.

  “Order whatever you want. It’s on me. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” I smiled at the server. “The two-piece fried chicken with all the fixings. And a pop.”

  “What can I get you, Maddy?” Small town; everybody knew everybody.

  She turned her cute little face up to the waitress. “Hi, Mrs. Smith. I’d like the same thing as Hope except instead of pop, can I have chocolate milk?”

  The waitress grinned. “You look awfully hungry, I’ll bring you an extra piece of chicken.” She smiled at me. “I’ll bring your drinks right out.”

  Maddy talked about art class as I scanned the people eating. Something had me jittery, but I didn’t know what.

  “…so Mama never makes my lunch and she usually doesn’t remember to leave me any money for lunch. This is the best meal. Don’t you just love fried chicken?”

  She shoveled another forkful of green beans into her mouth.

  “The chicken and green beans are amazing. What do you usually eat?”

  “If Mama gives me money, I buy lunch. And if we have any food in the house, I make my own lunch, but other times I just go to the library. Sitting in the cafeteria while the other kids eat makes me hungry, and the smell of the food makes it hard to think. You can’t eat in the library.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, it broke my heart. Oblivious to the anger rising within, Maddy told me about her friends and a bunny named Peter who lived in a hutch in the classroom.

  “I really want to bring him home for a weekend. Whoever is the best helper for the week gets to take Peter.”

  “That would be nice, but don’t let Midnight play with him.”

  She blinked at me with solemn eyes. “I know. Midnight would eat him because he’s a cat and that’s their nature. Can’t change it.”

  When we finished, I paid the bill, and as I was leaving the tip, Chris stopped at our table.

  “Hey, Hope. Who’s this?”

  “I’m Maddy. Hope got us chocolate shakes for dessert.”

  “Those look great.” He opened his mouth to say something, then turned to face the television above the register. When he turned back to me, his face was pale.

  “I know that guy.”

  “The one who died in the car accident? That’s a bad curve.” Instead of sitting down, Chris followed me outside. I opened the door for Maddy.

  “Get buckled in your booster seat while I talk to Chris.”

  He leaned in close, his voice low. “He was at the plant last night. Filming me with his cell phone.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair, his navy t-shirt lifting and showing me Chris had quite the six-pack.

  “Think. The newscaster said he was the head of a nonprofit promoting healthy eating. What do you do at Blesser?”

  “I work in MAP, uh, modified atmosphere packaging. Make sure the meat is properly vacuum sealed.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. I leaned against the car, looking in to see Maddy playing on my tablet.

  “That’s where they use carbon monoxide to keep the meat red so it looks fresh.”

  Chris looked around to see if anyone was listening, and I felt the thing within listening and waiting.

  “Come on. You and I both know how difficult it is for the coolers at the stores to keep the meat at the right temperature. What we do is perfectly legal and helps to keep bacteria from growing.”

  “It might not be illegal, but the meat looks fresh, like it was just cut, and it might be old.” Another puzzle piece dropped into place, and I had to leave.

  He touched my arm. “I don’t want to argue. Listen, maybe there’s something sketchy going on at Blesser, maybe there’s nothing going on. I’m not rocking the boat. I need the money, you know that.” He let out a sigh. “Anyway, it was an accident. He was in a hurry running out of the plant.”

  “I’m sure that’s it. I’ve got to get Maddy home. It was good to see you, Chris.” I watched him leave as I got into the car. Was Blesser connected to the tainted meat and old food at the Grab-and-Go? Were there others involved, or was Evan acting alone? And if so, was the parent company responsible for so many people getting sick? Only research, I told myself as I drove home listening to Maddy singing along to the radio. What could it hurt?

  CHAPTER 14

  “THIS ISN’T THE WAY HOME.” Maddy stopped singi
ng and peered out the window. She was small for her age and hated she still had to use a booster seat.

  “I know, but I thought we’d stop by the store, pick up a few groceries, just in case your mom has to work late and doesn’t have time.”

  The kid and I both knew her mother wasn’t working late. She was either smashed in a bar or shacked up with some guy. Who knew when she’d decide to appear? And while I could call child services, something stopped me, told me to wait.

  When we got home, Maddy helped me unload the groceries and put them away. While the house was a disaster, there weren’t any clothes on the floor. Maddy saw me looking around, and pointed to the hallway.

  “I’ve been doing all the laundry, just like you showed me. Thanks for buying more detergent today.”

  “Gotta have clean clothes, right?” I handed her a garbage bag. “You pick up the living room and I’ll take care of the kitchen, deal?”

  She eyed the sheet cake we’d picked up while shopping. It was pink and had little flowers around the edges. Neither one of us could resist.

  “Whoever finishes first gets the corner piece.”

  She ran into the other room, and I heard the sound of bottles clinking as I cleared off the kitchen table and counters.

  “I’ll take the kitchen trash out too.” She eyed the sink. “You’ve got an awful lot of dishes to do. I think that’s every dish we own.”

  “Do you know how to run the dishwasher?”

  She shook her head. “No, I tried washing them by hand, but I dropped a couple and my mom got really mad.”

  “Let’s start small. I’ll show you how to put the soap in the dishwasher and set it to run when your mom isn’t around. We’ll work on hand-washing another time.” I wanted to hunt down Betty the drunk and teach her a lesson, but instead I focused on helping Maddy. No way I wanted her in the system without a plan in place.

  “Deal.”

 

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