by Ann Mullen
Finally, she hissed, “What has my family got to do with anything? They had nothing to do with that girl’s disappearance, and neither did I.”
“We’re just trying to cover all the bases,” I assured her as I sipped coffee that was fast becoming lukewarm. “Do you think I could get some more coffee? Mine seems to be getting cold.”
“Sure,” she replied as she got up and went to fetch the coffee.
“I’m beginning to think this is a waste of time. She doesn’t know anything. We’re just wasting our time,” Billy said.
I leaned across the table and whispered, glancing back and forth to see if she was coming, “No way, Billy. Did you see the way she flinched when I mentioned her family? She almost wet her pants. I noticed her hands trembling when she said she also has a brother. What’s the deal?”
“Perhaps, they don’t get along,” he answered. “Maybe she comes from a dysfunctional family. Doesn’t everybody these days? I mean, look at us: an Indian; a skinny little white girl; and a grandma, trying to run a P.I. business. How odd is that?”
Ignoring his reference about our newly formed family, I said, “I’m telling you Billy, something smells funny.”
“It’s probably the grease from the kitchen,” he joked. “These places are famous for greasy food.”
Rose returned before I could convince Billy to ask more questions about her family. Her hands were trembling when she poured the coffee. Instead of sitting in the booth with us again, she stood, holding the half-filled coffee pot. Obviously, this was her way of telling us she’d had enough. This conversation was finished.
Billy ignored her seemingly uncomfortable attitude. “One more question, if you don’t mind,” he asked, not waiting for her to refuse. “Can you tell us anything you remember about your conversation with Helen Carrolton the day she was here? I know you’ve been through all this with the police, probably more times than you care to remember, but you never know what might turn out to be that one piece of information that could lead to solving this mystery. We need your help.” Billy was playing her. I’ve seen him do this to other people, and it usually worked.
Rose seemed to relax a little. She was probably glad she didn’t have to answer more of my questions about her family.
“We talked for about half an hour. She said she’d just broken up with her boyfriend. I could tell she was sad. Maybe she still loved him. The one thing I do remember was that she was scared of him. He hit her a few times. Once a man hits a woman, nothing’s the same anymore.”
“Did she mention anything about him trying to reconcile with her after they broke up?” I asked. “Did he come by, or make harassing phone calls to her?”
“Yeah,” Rose replied. “She said he called her all the time. Finally, she refused to talk to him. The day before she left, he came to her house and they had a big fight. Her parents called the police on him, and once the police arrived, he was forced to leave. Story over.”
Shift the blame. That always works.
“How old is your brother?” I asked. I knew this was going to make Billy hot under the collar, but frankly, at the time, I didn’t care.
She glared at me in the most undignified manner. “Eighteen, if it’s any of your business,” she answered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” She spun around and huffed off to the kitchen.
“I hope you’re satisfied!” Billy moaned.
Chapter 15
We argued all the way back to the office. “I had her eating out of my hands,” Billy swore. “Then you go and rile her up by talking about one thing that has nothing to do with the other. It’s a dead end. Drop it. Helen was at the diner, and they spent thirty minutes together. That’s not enough time to get to know someone. Rose Hudgins doesn’t know squat.”
“I think you’re wrong, Billy. I think she knows a lot more than she’s saying. She’s keeping a tight lip about something.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have.”
We were still arguing when we walked in the front door.
Mom greeted us with a smile, and a warning. “You two need to chill out. Let’s go home and cook some steaks. We might as well get some use out of that grill your dad bought.”
The instant she said dad, Billy and I froze and stopped arguing.
“It sounds like a good idea,” Billy replied. “I’m as hungry as a bear.”
When he said bear, I cracked up. Again, I had visions of my brother-in-law being chased by a killer bear, viciously clawing at him. Yes, that would make my day!
The next day, Billy and I talked with the gas station attendant. He was much more cooperative than our waitress. He told us he pumped ten dollars’ worth of gas for her, she paid in cash, and then left.
“I recognized her by the picture the police showed me. She’s pretty, you know,” he rambled. He talked as if he was trying to remember it all. “It had just started to snow, and by the time I’d pumped her gas, it was coming down pretty hard. Normally, I’d offer to clean the windshield and check the oil, but with the snow and all...”
“Mr. Dorey, you reported to the police that there was a man in the car with her,” I butted in. “Can you tell us anything about him? What he looked like? What was the color of his hair?”
“I didn’t pay much attention to him. I was too busy looking at her. All I can tell you is that he was white, and had dark hair.”
“Was he fat or skinny?” I asked.
“He was average. He wasn’t fat or skinny.”
It was my turn to throw in the towel. I looked at Billy and rolled my eyes, signaling a sign of defeat. “He had his eyes glued to the girl,” I whispered. “He doesn’t remember squat about the guy. Let’s call it a day.”
Taking the lead, I said, “I think that’s all for now. If we have anymore questions, we’ll be in touch, or if you remember anything, please give us a call.” I handed him one of Billy’s business cards, and grabbed Billy by the arm, dragging him out of the gas station.
Billy was slightly dumbfounded by my abruptness and ability to control the situation. “Why are you brushing him off like that? He might be able to identify the guy, and you cut him off. What’s the matter with you?”
“Come on,” I said, taking the keys from his hand. “Let me drive and I’ll see if I can explain the meaning of raging hormones to you.”
By the end of the week, Billy and I were at each other’s throats. At noon on Friday, Billy and I returned to the office. We had spent most of the morning doing surveillance on the waitress, the gas station attendant, and even Bubba Johnson, the burly guy who owned the restaurant. I thought there was something fishy about the waitress, and Billy thought the gas station attendant knew more than he was telling us. Needless to say, we couldn’t see eye-to-eye on anything.
Mom was sitting at what used to be my desk, talking on the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Jordan, I’ll see that he gets the message.” Without looking up, Mom pushed her chair back, stood up and said, “I’m finished for the day. Athena and I are going home.” Then she walked over to Billy and handed him a pink piece of paper. “I was just on the phone with Mrs. Louise Jordan. She wants to talk to you about her daughter. I told her you would call as soon as you got back. You need to call her.” Mom took a deep breath and stepped backwards, looking directly at Billy and me. “I love you both, but you two have to stop fighting. All my kids are grown now, and I’m not going to bring up anymore. So get yourselves together.” She stood there just long enough to give us the evil eye. Without saying another word, she hissed as she walked out of the office with Athena.
“She’s getting rather pushy, isn’t she?” Billy whispered.
“Yeah, well... that’s my mama!”
That night, the three of us and Athena were having dinner, when Cole rang the doorbell. I hadn’t seen him this last week because he’d been tied up in a police training class. I missed him, but at the same time, I was carrying a considerable amount of guilt
about our last night together. I didn’t come home. Mom and Dad had been frantic; she called me in the middle of the night. Dad had a heart attack the next day. Did this have anything to do with it? Was that what pushed his heart to the limit? They say stress can kill a person. Did I contribute to Dad’s heart attack? Sadly, the guilt would be another downfall in my emotional stability. I’d carry this in the back of my mind always, even though, I knew it wasn’t my fault. Maybe beating myself up was my way of dealing with the pain. I was saddled with sadness and guilt.
That all changed when Cole arrived.
“Hello, everybody,” he shouted, walking into he kitchen. I noticed he looked tired.
Mom pounced out of her chair like I’d seen Athena do when she saw something move in the woods.
“Come and sit over here,” she said to him. “Just because it’s getting warm outside now, doesn’t mean we can’t have a good old bowl of beef stew, does it?” She went to the stove and dished him up a bowl. “I took off work early today, and fixed a big pot,” she continued, not taking a pause for a breath of air. “I guess you know I’m running Billy’s office while they go out and catch the bad guys.”
Billy and I just about fell out of our chairs.
What has happened to this woman in the last few days? She was acting as if she was in a different world. She reminded me of a butterfly, fluttering from flower to flower. One minute she was bossing us around, clearly the one in charge, and the next, she’d turn into another person. Was my mother having a nervous breakdown?
“Don’t worry about her,” Billy whispered, leaning across the table. “Just let her do her thing. She needs to get it out.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I’ve learned that Billy pretty much knows about people. I’ve seen him handle enough situations to figure out he has the right idea. I put my worry to rest. If Mom needed to be in charge, then so be it. If she wants to cater to our every need, who was I to question her? I just can’t help but feel a little bit concerned when she acts like a yo-yo. She was definitely bouncing back and forth. I was waiting for the string to break.
“This looks good,” Cole replied. “I haven’t had a decent meal for a week. I’ve been in re-certification class, and by the time it was over at the end of the day, the best I could muster up was a pit stop at Burger King.” He smiled at Billy and me as he dug into his bowl of stew.
“You go on and help yourself,” Mom buzzed. “I have plenty more.” Then she burst into tears.
Billy was the first one out of his seat. Giving her a shoulder to cry on, he led her over to the table and said, “You sit down and finish your stew.” He ripped a paper towel off the roll and handed it to her. “You’ve been mighty brave, and I know how hard it’s been.” His compassion for her was touching. He was such a gentle, caring man.
Athena jumped up, put her front paws on Mom’s lap, and whimpered.
“You’re such a silly girl,” Mom said, half-laughing as she rubbed Athena’s head. A few spoonfuls of soup later, Mom put the bowl on the floor for Athena.
“I don’t believe it! You’re letting her eat out of your bowl!” I said, shocked. “I remember once when we were little, Claire and I wanted to feed a stray dog out of one of our dinner bowls, and you had a fit. You said no animal was going to eat out of a plate that we used. You said it wasn’t sanitary, and you gave us a long lecture.
“I can change my mind,” she said, smiling at Athena.
I could tell Mom was tired. After dinner I told her to go to bed and we’d take care of the kitchen mess. She went to bed, and we cleaned up. I put the leftover stew in the refrigerator, while Cole and Billy cleared the table. It was funny watching the two of them trying to load soup bowls into the dishwasher.
The phone rang, and I jumped to answer it.
“Hello,” I whispered.
“J-J-Jesse,” Claire stammered. “It’s me, Claire.” She barely got my name out, before she started bawling.
“Claire, what’s wrong?” By the tone in her voice, I was sure the world had come to an end. My sister was in dire distress.
“I-I-It’s Carl. He’s in the hospital,” she cried.
“Okay, calm down and tell me what happened.” I tried to soothe her, but the image of the man-eating bear flashed before my eyes, and it was all I could do to keep from clapping and laughing out loud.
Claire proceeded to tell me the events of the last couple of weeks. “Just before Dad died, Carl and I had a big fight. Some woman called here and said they were having an affair. When he got home from work, I confronted him.”
“What did he say?” I asked, rolling my eyes at Billy and Cole as they sat back down at the table, intent on listening in on my conversation.
“H-He said it was a lie,” she sniffled. “Anyway, I was so mad at him, I couldn’t see straight. I ran up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door. He followed me. One thing led to another, and I fell down the stairs.” She started to cry again. “Jesse, I lost the baby.”
I freaked out. “That b... I’ll kill him myself!” I screamed, trying to recover from the shock. “I thought you said Carl was in the hospital. I’m confused. He knocked you down the stairs and killed your baby, yet he’s the one in the hospital? Am I missing something here?” Then it struck me—maybe she retaliated for what he did to her by shooting him. Now that was a pleasant thought. I could live with that. At least, she didn’t kill him, did she? Did Carl even own a gun?
She continued, pulling me from my thoughts about Carl being hooked up to a string of hospital monitors... gasping for air. “When I lost the baby, Carl was so supportive.”
“I guess he was,” I hissed.
“Jesse, it was just as much my fault as it was his. We shouldn’t have been fighting. I was just so angry with him, I couldn’t stop myself. I forgot all about the baby.” She broke down in tears again.
“How did he wind up in the hospital?”
“I’m getting to that,” she said. “A few days after I lost the baby, Dad died. I told Carl he’d better get his act together and be the perfect husband throughout the funeral. What was happening with us could wait until later. I didn’t want Mom to have to deal with this, on top of losing Daddy.”
Meanwhile, I noticed Billy and Cole were getting into a deep and hushed conversation. “All I can say is, you better make sure,” I heard one of them say. I watched Billy shake his finger at Cole. I was trying to listen to them and Claire at the same time, but it wasn’t easy.
“Once we got home from Daddy’s funeral,” Claire continued. “I told Carl that I wanted a divorce. He begged and pleaded, but I’ll be honest, Jesse, I’m tired of his bull. He’s a liar and a cheat.”
I knew this had to be a dream. Mom let the dog eat out of her bowl, and Claire was developing a mind of her own. I was at a loss for words.
“He moved out of the house the night we got home from Daddy’s funeral,” she ranted. “He rented the penthouse at the Hyatt. The penthouse... for God’s sake! What a louse! Several days later, the husband of the woman who called me, showed up at Carl’s suite and shot him in the leg with a gun. At least, that’s what the police said.”
“That’s what you usually shoot someone with... a gun.” I wasn’t trying to be curt, but that’s how it came out. “Can I assume that means Carl’s still alive? He’s not dead, yet?”
“No, he’s not dead, yet,” she fumed.
Cole and Billy stopped fussing among themselves, and glared at me as if I’d been the one to pull the trigger.
“Jesse, give the girl a break,” Billy fussed.
“Are you going to file for a divorce?” I asked, ignoring him.
“Not now! Not while he’s still in the hospital. I can’t do that to him.”
I could feel my anger building. I knew she was going to say something I didn’t want to hear. Claire would take him back and try to make the marriage work, because that’s her way. She’s always the one to forgive and forget. She got that trait from our mother. Sometimes it d
rives me insane. For someone so smart, she sure was naive.
“I’m sorry, Claire,” I groaned, trying to end the conversation. “We’ve had a pretty hard time here, too. Mom’s just beginning to come around and I don’t want anything to upset her.”
“I understand,” she replied.
“I know this might sound horrible, but unless Carl dies, I’m not going to say anything to Mom about it right now. Is that all right with you? Claire, I’m really sorry about the baby.”
“Thanks, Jesse,” she whispered, and then raised her voice a decimal. “That’s fine with me. I just wanted to let you know the situation.”
“I knew something was wrong at the funeral,” I suggested. “You were so quiet, and Carl was so... nice.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I did the best I could.”
“If you need me for anything, call me at this number, it’s my cell phone. You can reach me anytime. It’s 555-1963.”
“1963—that’s the year Mom and Dad got married,” Claire recalled.
“You’re right!” I exclaimed. “I knew that number sounded familiar.”
I hung up the phone, feeling sad that I couldn’t help Claire. All I could do was talk to her, and hope for the best. I’d be there if she needed me, but I wasn’t going to forsake my mother’s well-being to help her deal with him. Mom wouldn’t hear about this for a long time, unless the creep managed to die. Then we’d deal with it, when the time came.
“I need to go home,” Cole stood up and said. “Poor River has been neglected far too long. I need to give him a little attention.”
Billy pushed his chair back and said, “Yeah, I’d better go, too.”