“Wow, I never would have thought that our one time would be that important to you. I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s name, for goodness sake.”
“There have been a lot of women since that first time, Cheryl, but—no—I never forgot you. My only regret is that I didn’t at least find out your name, and tried to stay in touch.”
“I really thought I would have seen you again, maybe at school, or the Sonic. I did look for you. I found those guys you were with, but I really didn’t want anything to do with any of them, so I didn’t ask them about you; but, I never forgot you either.” Cheryl kept her eyes on the road. She decided it might be best to tell Jason the truth after they got to her place—rather than when they were in a moving vehicle. “Let’s talk about this more when we get to my place, okay?”
Jason nodded. “Okay.” An odd feeling was beginning to nag at him; he was suddenly worried that it might have been a mistake to accept Cheryl’s invitation.
Thomas O’Brady had been off-shift for two hours when he finally sat down and stared at the Plexiglas before him, waiting for the prison staff to bring in Gordon Whiting. He watched as Skipper nodded at him and sat down on the other side of the Plexiglas that separated them. Thomas picked up the phone and waited for Skipper to do the same. He thought, for a moment, that Skipper’s slight hesitation meant that he might not pick up the phone on his side, but, he did.
“Officer O’Brady,” Skipper grinned. “What brings you by this fine establishment? I’ve already told the detectives all I know about Norman Weissman.”
“I’m not here about Norman. How are you doing, Skipper?”
“I’m right as rain, Officer. They feed us three meals a day, totaling 2,500 calories—which is a lot more than I am used to eating. I get to exercise an hour a day, and I have access to some of the most outdated books you could ever hope to find; and, best of all, I am able to shower every day. Now that I think about it, I’m surprised you don’t find more homeless people committing crimes just so they can have access to all these amenities.”
O’Brady grinned back at the old man. “If the homeless knew all that, then I am sure we would see an increase in our inmate population. Have you heard anything from your appointed counsel yet?”
“No, from what I understand, there’s a backlog of prisoners requiring counsel, so it could be another couple of weeks before anyone gets to my case.”
Thomas nodded and pursed his lips together. “I want you to know that we’re still investigating the case.”
“You mean you’re not one hundred percent sure that an old drunkard bag lady was telling you the truth? Why, Officer O’Brady, you surprise me.” One side of Skipper’s mouth turned up in a half-grin. “My thought is that whoever is responsible for Norman’s death had a hand in the story that Stella dreamed up. She won’t shake down easy, either. She’s one tough, old hag.”
“She might be, but we’ll find her and go over her story again. She seems to be hiding out somewhere, though. Your other friends haven’t seen her either.”
“They’re not my friends,” Skipper quickly inserted. “We shared a camp fire, that’s all.”
“So, I suppose that means you’re not interested in any visits from them?”
Skipper’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why would any of them want to visit me?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
“I ran into one of them—your fellow Veteran—today. He said his name was Jason Benton.”
“He told you he was a Veteran?”
O’Brady shook his head. “No, but I could tell. Anyway, he wanted me to check with you about adding his name to your visitors’ list. He wanted you to know that they were all thinking about you. He seems like a pretty decent fellow.”
“Is that so?” Skipper sounded unconvinced. “Well, like I said—they’re not my friends.” He started to hang up the phone, but stopped when the officer held up a hand and shook his head. He put the phone back to his ear. “Something else you wanted to talk about, Officer O’Brady?”
“Sit back down for a minute, Skipper…please. Your brother contacted the police station again to check on your situation.”
“My brother is in no condition to be travelling here to visit me in jail, Officer. If you talk to him again, tell him not to worry. He’s almost five years older than me, and he doesn’t need to be travelling in this weather. Tell him I’ll write him soon.”
“He wants to hire a criminal lawyer for you, Skipper.”
Skipper shook his head. “Your department saw what my financial situation was when you arrested me and checked into my background. I’m sure you know, as well as they do, that I could very well afford my own lawyer if I wanted to throw my money away on one. No, that money will not be used to get me out of this. Any decent, court-appointed attorney should be able to do that.”
“You’re willing to chance that, are you?” Thomas grinned.
Skipper returned the grin. “I’m seventy-six years old. It doesn’t really matter that much to me what the outcome of this might be.”
“You sound like you’ve given up, and, that doesn’t jive with my original impression of you.”
“I’ve never given up on anything,” Skipper stared back with a hard gleam in his eye. “It’s just that, sometimes, you have to wonder if the last chapter of your life might end before the final page is ever turned.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means,” Thomas laughed.
Skipper shrugged and started to hang up his phone again, but he stopped and stared at the officer one last time. “Tell Jason I’ll add him to the list. Thanks for stopping by.” He hung up the phone, turned, and left the room.
It was dark by the time Cheryl and Jason arrived at her house at six-thirty. Once inside, Cheryl put on a pot of coffee and ordered two large, meat-lovers pizzas to be delivered. She had brought a large picture album into the kitchen, and she and Jason were flipping through it. Most of the pictures were of Jimmy, from birth until the present time.
“He’s a good-looking kid,” Jason commented. “You said that the two of you just moved here a few months ago, right?”
Cheryl closed the picture album and nodded. “Yeah, we lived in Hogansville until then. My grandmother lived there, and Jimmy and I stayed with her from the time he was born until she died in 2014. My Dad sold the house then, and Jimmy and I moved into a small apartment.”
“Hogansville, huh?” Jason scratched his head. “You must have moved there, from Columbus, right after you and I hooked up then, right? Sounds like we both left Columbus about the same time.”
“You left, too?” Cheryl asked. “I mean, I didn’t know who to ask or where to look for you…”
“Why would you want to?”
Cheryl blew out a deep breath. “Jason, there’s something you should know…”
The kitchen door flew open and Jimmy bounded in. His cheeks were red from the cold wind, but his green eyes twinkled when he saw his mom sitting at the kitchen table with a man. “Hey, Mom! Coach decided not to keep us late after all. They’re expecting an ice storm tonight, so he let us go on time.” He shuffled out of his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. He moved to the kitchen table and offered his hand to the man who had stood up and was staring at him.
Jimmy grinned and looked back and forth between his mom and the man. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots. He took the man’s hand in his own and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Hey! I’ve waited a long time to meet you…DAD!”
Jason’s jaw dropped opened and he turned his head sharply to stare at Cheryl.
The doorbell rang.
Cheryl looked helplessly at Jason and cringed. “Pizza’s here…”
CHAPTER 15
Doug Visits PJ
Floyd Medical Center provided more indigent and charity care than any other medical facility in Northwest Georgia. It provided indigent and charity care services to 49,013 patients in 2015, and the new year already seemed on track to service that same amount,
if not more.
Patients recovering from stroke, traumatic injury, or surgery, and requiring intensive rehabilitation, were eligible to receive care through the medical facility’s Inpatient Rehabilitation program. The Rehab Center was located on the sixth floor, and, this is where Doug found PJ at six-thirty.
“Hello, PJ! You weren’t in your room and one of the nurses said I might find you up here.” He grinned widely. “Just look at you—you look wonderful—you’ve come a long way in just a few days.”
A nurse helped PJ back into her wheel chair and nodded at Doug. “She seems determined to get back on her feet. She’s a real fighter, this one is.” She wheeled PJ closer to where the handsome man with the shocking green eyes smiled back at her. “I was just getting ready to take her back to her room.”
“May I?” Doug asked. “I mean, if it’s allowed.”
“Of course it is. I recognize you as one of Miss Jensen’s regular visitors. It’s fine, as long as it’s okay with her, of course.”
PJ looked up at the nurse who had been so kind to her over the past couple of weeks. “Yes, it’s okay with me. Hello, Doug. Thank you for visiting me—again.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Peggy,” the nurse smiled when Doug’s hand brushed hers as they exchanged their positions behind the wheel chair. A sense of peace and tranquility filled her entire being, and she suddenly felt like she could easily work another double shift if she had to.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Doug nodded. “Thank you for all you’ve done to get her to this point.”
Doug wheeled PJ to the elevator and waited for it to open. “Are you hungry, PJ? We could make a quick detour to the snack shop if you’d like.”
“No thank you, Doug. I still have some of the cake left that you brought yesterday. I thought I would finish it up tonight. There’s a vending machine on my floor if you’d like to get us a cup of coffee, though.”
“I can do that,” Doug smiled down at her. “It looks like you’re making really good progress with the rehab they’re providing you.”
PJ nodded. “I still can’t believe they are going out of their way to help me like this. I mean, they have to know that there’s no way I can pay for any of this.”
“Don’t worry about any of that, PJ,” Doug explained how the hospital’s indigent and charity care functions operated.
“I don’t feel right, though,” PJ shook her head. “I mean, taking charity like that. I may be homeless, but I still have my pride. I’ll just have to find a way to pay them back, somehow.”
“All you have to focus on is getting back to your old self, PJ. That’s all. Everything else will work itself out. I have to ask, though…have you had any breakthrough in your memory?”
“You mean, do I remember what happened to me?”
Doug nodded. “Yes…or, anything prior to that?”
PJ sighed. “The police have been here three times already. They were asking me all kinds of questions about some man named…” she waved her hands in frustration.
“Norman?” Doug assisted. “Norman Weissman.”
“Yes, that’s the one,” PJ nodded her head up and down. “I told them I didn’t know anyone by that name. I didn’t know you either when you first came to visit me.”
“What’s the very last thing that you do remember, PJ—before waking up here in the hospital?”
PJ took another deep breath and waited for the door of the empty elevator to close before she looked up at the kind, white man who had been a regular visitor to her at the hospital. “Well, let’s see…I know it’s February 2016 now, but the last thing I remember is leaving my home and family in Selma, Alabama…five years ago. I had an awful fight with my mother and my sisters about—well—about the male company I preferred to keep. You see, Doug, I’ve always felt more comfortable dating white men, and that is just something that nobody in my family could accept. That’s why I never married, never had any children of my own. When they gave me an ultimatum concerning my last fella, I chose him over them, and I left Selma. Three months after I left, the man left me for a younger, white woman. I was too embarrassed to go back home and have all my family say I told you so! So, I took to the streets and lived my life the way I wanted to live it. Everything after that is just a blur, but I’m guessing that I must still be living my life as a homeless person.”
Doug grinned. He had never heard so many words come out of PJ’s mouth at one time. “Five years is a long time to live on the streets, PJ.”
“How exactly did you come to know me, Doug?”
Doug wasn’t sure how much information to reveal to PJ. The doctors had been adamant that her memory be allowed to return on its own, if it ever did. “I work in a café located across the street from an area that some homeless people gather, PJ.”
“So, I was part of that homeless group then?”
Doug nodded. “Yes, you were.”
“This fella that the police keep asking me about—Norman—he lives there, too?”
Doug was beginning to feel out of his element. He wasn’t quite sure where to draw the line on how much information to share, but he decided to take it one step further. “He did, yes.”
“Did?” PJ queried. “Are you saying he doesn’t live there anymore? Did he do something wrong? Is that why the police were asking about him?”
The elevator doors opened and Doug wheeled PJ to her room. He pulled back the covers on her bed and lifted her onto it. He smiled down at her when she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “You’re tired, PJ, so I’m going to leave now and let you get some rest. You worked hard today, so, get some sleep. I’ll stop by again tomorrow and we can talk some more, okay?”
“Well, I am a little tired,” PJ smiled. She touched his hand, and like the nurse on the sixth floor, she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline course through her battered body. “Thank you again for coming to visit with me, Doug. You’re the only person who has come.”
“Something tells me you will have other visitors very, very soon, PJ,” Doug held her frail hand between his two larger ones. “I’ll say a special prayer for you tonight.”
The loud group of teenagers that had burst through the café’s front door a half-hour ago was quickly getting on Bertie’s last angelic nerve. She carried a stack of dirty dishes into the kitchen and dropped them noisily into the sink.
Max glanced at her over his shoulder. He had been listening in on the conversations between Bertie and Kirk’s little group, and he knew that Bertie’s tongue had to be sore from her having bitten it so many times in an effort to keep from saying something ungodly to the rowdy group of teenagers. “Just remember, Bertie,” he grinned. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Oh, Hells-Bells!” she grumbled as she walked up behind Max and punched him hard against his right shoulder. There was no doubt that it hurt her more than it did him. “They’re nothing but a bunch of spoiled, rich kids. I’d like to find a long switch, turn all four of them over my knee, and give them a good switching.”
“That’s not allowed anymore,” Max laughed at her apparent angst. “Parents can’t even do it, without risk of being reported to that child welfare agency.”
“That’s a damn shame, too!” Bertie hissed.
Max shook his finger at her. “Watch the language, Bertie. You’ve been doing so good lately. I would hate for Martin to chastise you when we visit Home on Sunday.”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m working on that…besides, Martin doesn’t scare me none,” Bertie sighed. “Seriously, though, Max—those kids out there all deserve to be locked in their rooms and the keys thrown away. I’ve never seen a ruder bunch of teenagers. Did you hear them? Demanding that cheeseburgers and fries be added to the menu!”
“I heard them; but, they didn’t seem to turn their noses up at the food you delivered to their table. It would appear that buttermilk fried chicken and loaded mashed potatoes are a satisfactory substitute for burger and fries.”
“Yeah,” Bertie sighed again. “T
hat did shut them up for a while. Did you hear them talking about Jimmy Crennan?”
Max nodded. “I didn’t like the sound of that conversation. I was hoping that Jimmy wasn’t part of their group any longer.”
“I don’t think he is, but, I don’t think their leader —that snotty one with the attitude—feels the same way, though. I think he’s bad news, and I think he wants to drag Jimmy down with him.”
“Jimmy’s a smart kid, Bertie. We have to trust and believe that he will make smart decisions, especially about any involvement with that group out there. Remember, we cannot interfere with anything that’s about to unfold.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bertie punched him again for good measure. “But, that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to drag Kirkie by the ear, drop his drawers, and blister his bottom with a switch until he can’t sit on it for a week!”
Max laughed out loud. “Is that really how you disciplined your own children, Bertie?”
Bertie placed her hands on her well-padded hips and stared up at the former gladiator. “It most certainly is! And, it’s the way my mama and daddy disciplined me and my brothers and sisters, too. We all turned out pretty darn good, if you ask me!”
“I don’t know,” Max shook his head. “I bet that switch hurt like all get out.”
“Yep, it sure did,” Bertie grinned. “Hey, what about you? It’s so hard to imagine you as a child, but, what was life like for you as a kid?”
Max closed his eyes and allowed a flood of memories to rush in. “Life was very different for children of commoners, Bertie. Our parents trained us on everything we needed to know in order to survive in our world. You have to understand…they were more concerned with our moral development than they were with our intellectual development.”
“So, they didn’t care if you got an education then, huh?” Bertie nodded. “I didn’t get that either—I never even finished ninth grade.”
Star-Spangled Rejects (The Heavenly Grille Café Book 3) Page 12