Catch Me When I'm Falling
Page 21
Chapter 19
The open house was a success. The Mack partners and their significant others, Mandy’s parents, some of Charlie’s former clients, and Mandy’s police colleagues were among the guests. A few of the neighbors even stopped by in response to the flyer Mandy had created. Most of the guests were gone, but the partners remained, and Ernestine sat in the kitchen with Reggie, who had arrived freshly showered, barbered, and dressed in clean clothes. Mandy, Judy, and Rita chatted out on the deck, watching Rudy run back and forth along the fence line with the neighbor’s dog. Charlie checked on her mom and Reggie, and those in the backyard, and then walked down to the basement.
Don, Gil, Alonzo Scott and Judy’s husband, Gary, stood at the bar having a heated conversation with FBI agent James Saleh, who had surprised everyone by stopping by. James had been both a helper and an adversary in a case last year in Birmingham, Alabama. Gil’s dislocated right shoulder was supported by a sling, and all afternoon his girlfriend, Darla Sanchez, dutifully brought him food and freshened his drink. Darla watched TV in the sitting area on the other side of the finished basement. Charlie poured two mimosas and joined her.
“Are you doing okay down here?” Charlie asked.
“I’m just fine. They’re talking shop, and I tried as long as I could to seem interested.”
Charlie chuckled. “Yeah, we can be a boring bunch, all right.”
Darla smiled. “Oh, it wasn’t that so much. I’m an administrator at a mortgage loan office, so I’m used to boring conversations. It was the violence. They were talking about your latest case. I don’t know how you deal with the monsters you come across.”
“This work comes with bad guys, and sometimes bad women,” Charlie acknowledged. “But it’s mostly a lot of paperwork and waiting around in cars.”
Charlie paused to sip from her mimosa, and they relaxed in their individual thoughts. Several minutes later Darla spoke again.
“Gil seems to thrive on the action,” Darla said, looking over at him.
“I’m not so sure of that. This was a tough case for him. Sometimes he can care too much.”
“I hope he never loses that quality,” Darla said. “I think it’s what I like most about him. That, and being incredibly handsome.”
The two women shared a long, hearty laugh, and the men at the bar momentarily suspended their conversation to glance at them. Gil’s look lingered longer than the others.
# # #
By six everyone had gone home, and Mandy and Charlie moved through the house picking up glasses, empty plates, and errant napkins. They’d been in their new house almost a month, and together they’d completed the painting, decorating, and minor repairs the house needed. It already had a cozy feel.
“Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves,” Charlie said, wiping down the bar countertop.
“Yes. I believe we’ve had our first successful gathering,” Mandy said, wrapping her arms around Charlie’s waist.
“It was just the kind of party I like. A lot of different elbows, belonging to a lot of interesting people, all rubbing together.”
Mandy held up an almost empty bottle of Reisling and Charlie nodded. Mandy didn’t bother with glasses, grabbing two paper cups from the stack under the bar.
“Speaking of interesting people, Reggie seemed to fit in very well. At one point he held three of your lawyer acquaintances rapt with his knowledge of the defense tactics for the death penalty.”
“It’s too bad Michigan doesn’t have the death penalty,” Charlie said, taking a first sip of wine.
“You don’t mean that.”
“William Anderson certainly deserves the death penalty. He’s a vile human being with no regard for anyone, or anything but his own selfish pursuits. He was responsible for the deaths of a dozen people that we know of.”
They sipped wine together on the window seat in their dining room. Mandy had found the perfect cushion for the seat, and four overstuffed pillows made the window beautiful and functional. When Mandy swung her legs over Charlie’s lap, she obliged with a foot rub.
“When does his trial start?”
“In a few weeks. Half the witnesses in the case were here today. Me, Gil, Reggie, Detective Scott. The prosecuting attorneys are even using some of the records and documents Mom dug up.”
“As difficult as this case was, you all should be proud of what you did to solve these murders.”
“Thanks for saying that. You put up with a lot, too, and I appreciate it.”
“Rita tells me Gil is considering leaving the agency. Is that true?”
Charlie downed the last of the wine. “He’s mentioned it a couple of times. He feels responsible for Betti’s death and thinks maybe he should just focus on practicing law.”
“Why hadn’t you mentioned it?”
“I don’t really want to think about it. I know it was the kind of case that makes you question your choice of occupation. I went through that myself with the Birmingham case, remember?”
“I remember.” Mandy downed the rest of her wine. “What would you do if he left? I can’t imagine the Mack Agency without Gil. He’s . . . he’s like the Zen to the Yin-Yang of you and Don.”
Charlie smiled. “I certainly never thought of it that way.”
“You know what I mean. He’s often the voice of reason. I saw it in the auto show case.”
“It would be a hard adjustment to lose Gil. We’re so much better with him, and I’m hoping, with time, he’ll realize he did everything he could to help Betti. If there’s one lesson I learned from the people I met in the Corridor, it’s we can’t always save the people we want to help.”
After Charlie and Mandy finished loading the dishwasher and storing leftovers in the refrigerator, they returned all the chairs to their proper places. Charlie turned on the porch and deck lights, and armed the security system. They were still getting used to being homeowners and adjusting to living together.
“Maybe we should get a dog,” Charlie said, meeting Mandy at the stairs that led to their second floor.
“Dogs like lots of routine, and daily walks. My hours are too crazy, and so are yours.”
“Okay. You’re right. But we need something to signal we’re settling into domestic bliss.”
“We do?”
“Yeah, like getting two overstuffed recliners, or buying a humongous gas grill, or . . .”
“We’re cohabitating, not retiring,” Mandy said, laughing. “Next, you’ll have our clocks set to watch Wheel of Fortune every night.”
Charlie cupped Mandy’s waist, and they bounced upstairs forming a two-woman salsa line. When they got to their master bedroom, they fell together laughing on their new king bed.
“Okay, no dog, no La-Z-Boys, and no game show dates,” Charlie said. “Would you settle for a gas grill?”
About the Author
A Detroit native, Cheryl A. Head now lives on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C., where she navigated a successful career as a writer, television producer, filmmaker, broadcast executive, and media funder. Her debut novel, Long Way Home: A World War II Novel, was a 2015 Next Generation Indie Book Award finalist in both the African-American Literature and Historical Fiction categories. Her first Charlie Mack Motown Mystery, Bury Me When I’m Dead, was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award. When not writing fiction, she’s a passionate blogger, and she regularly consults on a wide range of diversity issues.
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Copyright © 2019 Cheryl A. Head
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Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61294-146-2
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ooks First Edition: March 2019
Cover designer: Ann McMan, TreeHouse Studio
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