1 Death of a Garden Hoe

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1 Death of a Garden Hoe Page 3

by Gale Borger


  Big Mike heard the back door slam and Pone walked into the room.

  "Hey, Dad."

  Startled, Big Mike stood. "Hey Mike, what's up? Don't you have one-on-one counseling or something this evening?"

  "Uh, naw. Group, but Dr. Browning said I could be late tonight. I have to talk to you."

  "Sure, Mike. It's been a long time since we talked. Do you think we can remember how?"

  Pone smiled. "Yeah, I think we can remember how, Dad."

  Pone walked over to the kitchen table and sat. Big Mike waited until he took a seat and sat across from him. He folded his large hands on the table. "So, Son, what's up?"

  Pone looked at the ceiling. He licked his lips and cracked his knuckles. "Dad, I've learned a lot since I had to live at The Olive Branch. I don't mean about gardening, but I learned a lot about that too." He squirmed in his seat. "What I want to say is that I am really sorry for all the crap I put you through."

  Big Mike raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  Pone got up and went to the fridge. Pulling out two Sprites, he put one in front of his father and he popped the top on the other.

  Sitting down, he stared at the soda. Big Mike sipped his Sprite and waited.

  Pone took a breath and let it out slowly. "Today, when we found that girl, something inside made me think about stuff.

  Pone stared at the table. Big Mike wanted to speak, but waited for Pone to finish.

  Pone took a breath. "The thing is, Dad, we have group sessions three times a week. I thought they were dumb, but I had to go. I'd sit there and try to figure out gaming moves. I didn't pay attention. I learned how to look like I was, but I treated most of it like a joke."

  Big Mike quietly asked, "And now?"

  Pone shook his head. He yanked off his ball cap. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his father. "Now I don't know. Now I see how life as a super gamer is so totally lame. That isn't real life. Those guys I know online aren't real." He grabbed his father's hand and squeezed. "This is real. That dead girl is real. Shroom, Spaz, and Bean are real. All the things I thought were important don't really mean much. So now where am I?"

  Big Mike nodded. Pone stared at the wall. "I saw money never did Cash any good in life, and he ain't ready to change. When Daddy don't bail him out, Momma does if she's sober, which isn't often.

  Shroom was into drugs and gangs. The State took him away from his family. They said they were bad for him. The State placed him with his grandma. Grandma got him out of the gangs. Grandma also grew pot in her basement. Instead of crack, he did blunt. So back to jail he goes. And Spaz? She's been abused since she was a baby. She may never be okay."

  His father looked up. "And that boy they call Bean?"

  Pone laughed. "Bean is not like the rest of them. He's really smart, but they think he's stupid. It's like he's never been around people and doesn't know how to act. I guess I'm more like Bean than the rest of them. He's what got me thinking about why I felt so out of place. Thank God, I'm black, because Spaz and Shroom took one look at me and figured I came from their world-no questions asked. Bean is the odd man out. I'm sayin' his parents are teachers!"

  Mike chuckled. "You say that like it's a disease."

  "For Bean with this group, it's like a death sentence. Almost as bad as having a cop for a father, but they just found out about that today."

  Big Mike grinned. "I'm sure things will get better for him. Now back to you. What's up here? You didn't come over here to discuss your cop dad, did you?"

  "I know we can be better than we are."

  "And by that you mean?"

  "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm really sorry."

  Pone stood and his father wrapped his arms around him. "Mike, I know we can't bring Mom back. I know it's been hard for you. But I think we are gong to be okay."

  Pone smiled and hugged his dad close. "Yeah, we are." He pushed back and stood facing Big Mike. "Which reminds me, Dad. Can you do me a favor?"

  Banging on the back door stopped both of them. Bean blew through the kitchen yelling, "Hey, Pone, I stopped by to talk to your dad. Good thing you're here. Hi, Mr. Williams."

  "Hello, young man. What did you want to see me about?"

  Bean looked at Pone. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked at the floor. Pone hit his shoulder. "Out with it, man. What do you want with my dad?"

  Bean stumbled back and rubbed his arm. "I want to help. That's why you're here too, right, Pone?"

  Pone nodded and faced his dad. "Uh, yeah, me and Bean, we want to check it out. You know, help."

  "You mean, solve a murder?"

  "Yup," Bean said. We want to see how you solve a crime."

  Big Mike thought. "You know many crimes are never solved, right? Most police work is boring, you know."

  Pone nodded. "We know, but our friend Spaz knew that girl. I don't think Spaz has many friends."

  Big Mike thought a moment. So you think maybe you can help your friend Spaz if we can find out who killed her friend."

  Pone looked at his feet. "Sounds kind of stupid when you say it out loud."

  Big Mike smiled. "No, not stupid, just a hard row to hoe."

  Both Bean and Pone flinched. Pone said, "Uh, no more about the hoes, Dad,"

  "Why not?"

  Pone smiled and looked at Bean, He looked away. "Uh, never mind."

  "I don't get it."

  Pone said, "I know, but hey, you had to be there."

  Bean piped up. "I bet Shroom and Cash would help too. Spaz will be a harder nut to crack, but maybe she will come around."

  Big Mike smiled. "Let me make some calls, Mike. I'd have to clear it with the courts, probation, my work, and Ollie Boothe. If I am going to do this, I need to know you guys will follow through. And no going off on your own, understood?"

  They both grinned. "Okay."

  "You know you are speaking for people who have not even been asked yet."

  Pone grabbed his ball cap and shoved the chair under the table. "But we will ask, and I'll call you tonight, but I know they'll say yes. If not, you still got me-n-Bean."

  "Now that makes me very afraid."

  Big Mike watched the two boys. They bounded out of the house and ran down the street.

  "I think I am very afraid."

  Chapter 6

  Pone and Bean skidded to a stop outside Dr. Browning's office. A quick look at his watch told Pone there was about ten minutes left of group. Taking a deep breath, he knocked twice and turned the knob.

  Dr. Patricia Browning stopped speaking when the door flew open. Bean and Pone stood in the doorway sucking air like winded racehorses.

  Patti Browning had been around a lot of troubled kids in her time. She knew the signs of a break-through when she saw one. Mike Williams Jr., a.k.a. Pone was shining with a new inner light. The other kid was jazzed to the max. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought Bean was high.

  The group may not see it, but they could sense something was different. Patti Browning watched them closely. Spaz turned her back to them. All that happiness freaked her out.

  Shroom crossed his arms and slid down into his chair, frowning. Cash looked confused.

  Dr. Browning stood. "Well, nice to see you two. Glad you could make it. We were just talking about things we fear, and our time is about up."

  Pone pushed away from the door. "Good. Can I change the subject, Dr. Pat?"

  She looked at the other kids. "I think that would be all right. Is it okay with the rest of you?"

  Everyone but Spaz nodded. She just sat there, turned away from the rest.

  Pone walked to the front of the room. "Thanks, guys. I talked to my dad tonight. I asked if we could help find Dead Chick's killer. He said yes, and if he can get it okayed, we can all help."

  All eyes turned to Spaz. She stood and faced the rest. "What are you all looking at me for? I don't care what you morons do. You think anything we do will help Amy now? She's just another dead ho. No one gives a damn, so don't pretend you do!"


  Spaz grabbed her sweater and ran out of the room.

  Bean looked after her and at the group. "Oops."

  Shroom pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Big oops. What were you thinking, man?"

  Pone shrugged. "I don't know. I thought she would like the idea."

  Cash let out a breath that puffed out his cheeks. "Well, you thought wrong, dawg."

  Pone looked at the floor. "Now what?"

  Dr. Browning cleared her throat. "May I make a suggestion?"

  "Sure, anything."

  "If you boys want to be involved, I'll help get permission so you may. I'll work with Detective Williams on this.

  Bean spoke up. "And if Spaz wants to join us later, that would be all right. If not, maybe we will find answers that will bring her some peace."

  Shroom scowled. "Work with cops, are you playin' me, dawg? I ain't goin' anywhere near cops! Count me out, man."

  Quiet up until that point, Cash said, "Maybe we don't have to."

  Shroom looked up. "Don't have to what?"

  Pone turned. "What are you talking about?"

  "Maybe we don't need the cops. Maybe we do this on our own."

  Shroom stood. "Maybe...not! Hell, Cash, what do we know about investigating crime? We only know how to commit them."

  Cash leaned back in his chair. "We also know how we got caught. We just do it backward."

  Bean shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense, but I like it." He looked at Pone. "When do we start?"

  Pone was trying to settle them down. "Now wait a minute. We can't just go off on our own and–"

  Cash grinned. "Why not? I have a vehicle, and I can bankroll us…What the–"

  Shroom spun around and scowled. He leaned close to Cash and crossed his arms. "No way, man. No cops. I mean it. No cops. Me and cops do not get along!" He bounced out of his chair. "Did I say no cops?"

  Bean said, "You said no cops."

  Pone tried to calm Shroom, "Okay, you got it, no cops, just my dad."

  "Your dad is a cop."

  "I know. But he's cool, I swear. Come on, Shroom. Let's do it for Spaz."

  "Why should we help her? She's a bitch, man."

  Bean butted in. "She's got her issues, Shroom. Just like you, just like any of us. You scared to be a good guy for once in your life? Think of your mom. She'd–"

  Shroom got in his face. "You don't say nothin' about my mom."

  Bean held up his hands. "Back off, dude, I didn't. It just might make your mother proud, that's all."

  Shroom thought a moment. "I thought it was one more of your peckerwood ideas, and I don't want to hear it."

  Shroom backed away and picked up his sweatshirt. He held up a hand and pointed down at the group. "You guys want to do this, you go. I ain't going. This ain't my gig, it's yours. Go play Five-oh and make your daddy proud, Pone."

  Pone stepped forward. "You moron. It's about helping a friend. About finding answers about dead chick, who has no one to help her. Why does everything always have to be about you, Shroom? Why can't it ever be for anyone else?"

  Shroom grabbed his sweatshirt. "I don't have to listen to this crap, man."

  Pone yelled after him, "You go run away, Shroom. You're just scared, girly man. Go run and hide. We don't need your ass here anyway."

  Shroom slammed the door on his way out. Pone looked at Cash and Bean. He sighed. A smart assed rich boy and an intelligent idiot who knows four speeds; trip, stumble, fart, and fall down. I am in big trouble.

  Chapter 7

  Early the next morning, Pone, Bean, and Cash sifted through layers of slimy garbage and other muck trying to find a clue as to who offed Dead Chick.

  "Who the hell thought this would be a good thing?" Cash yelled. "Three hours in this cesspool and all I got to show for it is a buckle off a shoe and ruined blue jeans!"

  Pone looked over his shoulder at the rip in Cash's thigh. "If you didn't wear two hundred dollar jeans, it wouldn't matter so much, Yo."

  Cash gave Pone the "You're Number One" sign with the wrong finger and Pone laughed.

  Bean made it through seven layers of yuck and stopped dead. "Uh, Detective Williams? I think I've got something here."

  Pone and Cash dropped what they were doing and scrambled over mountains of garbage to see what Bean found. Big Mike got there a moment later.

  Cash asked, "What is that?"

  Bean pointed near his toe. "Look there. I think it's a watch."

  "A watch? So what?"

  Bean rubbed his nose and squatted. "Look again, Mr. Moneybags, what kind of watch do you see?"

  Pone squatted beside Bean. "It says 'Car-teer', like what is that supposed to mean?"

  Cash squinted and yelled, "Holy crap! It's a Cartier, you dumbass. That's Car-tee-eh, not Car-teer. That watch could be worth over twenty grand! I don't even have one of those. It has to be a clue. Detective Williams! We got something! Look at that! A real clue!"

  Big Mike stared at the French watch lying on a banana peel. "Calm down there boy. Looks like you might be right, Cash, It says Cartier on the face. Good job, Bean. Let's get a picture of this and we'll bag it up."

  Big Mike turned away and Bean turned to Cash. "Oh, and Cash? Because one does not know how to pronounce Cartier, does not make him a cretin. That's pronounced, 'cree-tin', and means stupid, brainless, or as you put it, 'dumbass'."

  Pone and Bean knocked knuckles and walked away. Cash stood there with his mouth hanging open and cranberry sauce dripping from his right glove. He spun to face Big Mike, who turned away, a small smile on his lips.

  * * *

  "The reports by themselves mean nothing," Big Mike Williams read aloud from his notes. "The evidence they took off the girl revealed very little. The skin and blood under her fingernails did not match any DNA in the FBI's files. But the watch. The watch was a find. If they could trace–"

  The ringing of the phone startled Big Mike out of his rambling. He grabbed it on the second ring. "Williams."

  "Hey, Dad? This is Williams, Two."

  "Hi, Son, What's up."

  A slight pause an then, "Uh, you know I'm pretty good on the computer, right?"

  Big Mike looked at the ceiling and said a short prayer. "Yes? Do I have to call off the cyber police, young man?"

  No, no! Nothing like that. It's just, well, I think I have a little more info on the watch Bean found."

  Big Mike sighed. "I'm listening." He could hear the rustling of papers and Pone dropped the phone twice before he was ready to talk.

  "Okay. I got it now. I took the stuff your guys had on the watch. I went to the website where the watch was sold. I found the watch. By the way, Cash was right. The watch is about twenty-five-thousand dollars worth of gold and other stuff. It is not something you can pick up at Wal-Mart."

  "Go on."

  More paper rustled. "And you can only buy this watch online." A silent pause.

  Big Mike began to sweat. "And?"

  Pone waited another beat. "And if one was to be able to hack Cartier's records, they would find that one of the three watches sold online was sold to a guy in Milwaukee. A very rich guy in Milwaukee."

  Big Mike was in a panic. "Stop! Don't say any more. Any information you find illegally will not be able to be used as evidence in court. So before you tell me anything else, you need to tell me how you got your information."

  A huge sigh. In a small voice Pone admitted, "I hacked their sales records."

  "Damn it, Mikey, you can't do that!"

  "I could be an unknown source with a tip."

  "But that would be a lie, wouldn't it?"

  "Yeah. Wait a minute. I gotta do something."

  The phone clicked in his ear. Big Mike heard a dial tone. He hung up. The phone began to ring and he grabbed it. "Michael Jonas Williams, I am warning you–"

  A gravelly voice rumbled in Big Mike's ear. "This is not Michael Jonas. This is an unknown guy with a tip about the watch."

  "Michael, I have had about enough of this. I'm trying to c
hange your criminal thinking habits. This is not doing you a bit of good!"

  "I said I'm not Michael, but if you want to know who murdered–"

  Big Mike's cell phone rang. "I am not through with you yet young man. He picked up his cell phone. "Williams."

  "Dad? Your house line was busy so I thought I'd call your cel–"

  Big Mike dropped the cell phone and snatched up his house phone. "Are you still there? I'm sorry, my other phone rang and I–"

  "Never mind. I do not have much time. Look at Franklin B. Hunnicut IV." Big Mike scribbled the name on the counter top. "He has a taste for expensive watches and young girls."

  The phone went dead.

  Big Mike stared at the name on the counter top. He heard muffled shouting and realized Mikey was still on his cell phone. Snatching it up he said, "Sorry, Mike, I thought you were on the house phone."

  "No not me. I wanted to check out if a tip would be judged as–"

  Big Mike broke in. "Hold on, I just got a real tip on the house phone. They said to look up Franklin Hunnicut the Fourth."

  "Wow, Dad. That is the same guy I was trying to tell you about!"

  "Well, it's better to go the legal route. My phone records everything. This is what I have pounded into your head since you were a child. We got lucky this time, kid. It's usually not this easy. Why don't you tell Bean and Cash we can meet in the morning to talk about how we go from here?"

  "Uh, can't do it until after about ten o'clock, Dad. We have to deliver landscape timbers to the Christian camp outside Lake Geneva. We're going to build them raised beds for a community garden. They want to donate the harvest to homeless shelters."

  "Great project. Okay, I'll go into the office early and be back here around noon."

  "We'll be there. Thanks, Dad."

  "You're welcome, Kiddo, see you then."

  "See ya."

  Big Mike sat and stared at the phone. Kids. Did they really think I bought that line of crap they just gave me? Hah! He gathered his papers and stuffed them into the file.

  Back at the garden center, Bean slapped his cell phone closed and flopped into a chair. "Wow! I can't believe he fell for that line of crap!"

  Cash took the voice scrambler and put it away. "This little thing has come in handy a time or two.

 

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