Monkey Wrench

by Terri Thayer

  Pearl put her hand behind her back like a two-year-old. “You can’t have my Granny Goose. You can’t have them.”

  I looked at Vangie. Granny Goose? Cute name for a not-so-cute pill.

  I put my palm out and made a stern face.

  She relented and gave me the bottle. “It’s not a big deal. As people get older, they have less energy. The Goose just gives me a goose,” she said, her thumb thrust in the air. “A good ole kick in the pants.”

  Vangie said, “Who told you that? Ross?”

  Pearl stuck out her tongue. Vangie returned the gesture.

  Pearl said, “She’s jealous of the kid. Doesn’t like the fact that he’s in the spare room. Her room, she called it. Doesn’t like that I make his breakfast, and pack him a lunch.”

  “And wipe his butt,” Vangie said.

  Pearl made a face.

  “Come on, you two. Let’s leave Ross out of this for the moment. Get back to the drugs.”

  I looked at the bottle. The name on the label was Carl Menkin.

  “These are not yours,” I said. I could only manage the really obvious. I tapped out a few. The pale yellow pills were round.

  Pearl looked at me like I was a loon. “It’s not a big deal, Dewey. I traded. That guy, Carl, he’s not really hyper. ACHD, ABC, whatever. He doesn’t need his Ritalin. But he did need the stuff I got at the clinic.”

  “You got some pretty powerful drugs that day. I thought that was for Ross’s project. Was Carl involved?”

  Pearl zipped her lip with an exaggerated motion.

  Vangie threw up her hands. “She doesn’t know Carl Menkin from a hole in the wall. How do you think she found this ADHD kid who needs the Oxy she got from the pill mill?”

  “Ross.” Of course. I introduced Ross to Pearl. My face flushed with shame.

  Vangie said, “Ross is getting her Ritalin, and giving her pills to this other kid. Her Ambien, too, He uses it to come down.”

  What a mess. “Pearl, you can’t be taking prescriptions without a doctor’s supervision. Who knows what the long-term effects are? You could be doing yourself terrible harm.”

  Pearl laughed a harsh laugh. She leapt out of her chair. “You think I care if I live another twenty, thirty years? I can’t stand the pain now. Now. I need things to change right now.”

  Vangie and I exchanged a glance. Pearl was in big trouble.

  “Come, sit down. Let’s talk this out.”

  Vangie and I settled on either side of her but Pearl wouldn’t sit. I reached out for her. She twisted away. Her eyes flashed. I recoiled from the venom coming off her.

  Pearl turned back and slammed her fists into the tabletop. Vangie and I both jumped. My heart pounded. “Now you want to talk? Where have you been, Dewey? Or you, Vangie? For months, all I wanted was someone to talk to. You’re so busy. Both of you.”

  Vangie hung her head. Vangie kept her fingers in her lap. I heard a knuckle crack. “School,” she croaked. Vangie’s voice was tight with sadness.

  I’d started my store remodel right before Hiro’s death. I hadn’t been available. “Pearl,” I said. “We tried, but—”

  Pearl sat heavily in the chair. She shrunk against the back, and her voice was gravely. She was disappearing. “I know. For you, there are not enough hours in the day. For me, there are too many. Twenty-four long, lonely hours.”

  I felt my throat swell as the tears came up. Vangie swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. I reached out for Pearl’s hand but she pulled away.

  “I only took the pill to feel better. That’s all I wanted. To feel like myself again.”

  Pearl’s eyes filled. My heart flipped wildly. Pearl had been dry-eyed through Hiro’s funeral and, as far as I knew, for the last six months. Now she was crying.

  “But I can’t. I’m too old.”

  My heart softened. “You’re not old. You’re sad.”

  I used my thumb to wipe away a tear on her lined cheek. Her eyes were so black, I could see my own reflection, saw the pain lines on my forehead.

  “You’re supposed to be sad. The love of your life died.”

  “We met in the camp, Dewey. I was four. He was eight. I loved him even then.”

  Vangie and I exchanged a sweet smile. We’d heard this story so many times before. “I know, sweetie. That’s why you’re so miserable. You’re grieving.”

  Pearl pouched out her lower lip. “I don’t like to be sad. It sucks.”

  “We’ll help you.” I looked to Vangie.

  She nodded and said, “I can stay with you at your house for a while longer. If you get rid of Ross.”

  Pearl nodded.

  I smiled at Vangie. That would be a perfect solution. “You can hang out here at the shop. Every day if you want. Jenn and Ursula would love to see you more.”

  “It hurts.”

  I patted Pearl’s back. “You’ll quilt. You’ll heal.”

  The real Pearl was in there. Buried under her unfelt pain. By pushing away the hurt, she’d lost herself. We had to bring her back.

  I hugged Pearl. I was facing the front of the loft. In the quiet, I could hear that Ursula was talking quite loudly. “She’s not here, I told you.”

  I pushed Pearl into Vangie’s arms and took several long strides and peeked over the edge. A short man in a gray business suit and a cowboy hat was striding through the center aisle, coming from the direction of my office. Anton Zorn.

  He turned and looked up. I ducked down. Vangie and Pearl looked at me and started toward me.

  “Sshhh …” I said to Vangie and Pearl. “We’ve got to be super quiet. Zorn’s in the house.”

  “What’s up there?” he barked.

  “Storage,” Ursula said. “Listen, why don’t I give Dewey a call on her cell? I’ll tell her you’re here. She probably went to the bank or to pick up lunch.”

  She started dialing before he answered. My phone, in my pocket, started to vibrate. The vibration that meant the ringer was about to go off. I pressed the off button, the mute button. The phone went quiet.

  Ursula left me a perky message. “Detective Zorn is at the store, looking for you, Dewey. I believe he’s trying to locate Vangie. I’ll ask him to wait in the classroom until you return.”

  Her eyes looked skyward. Zorn, distracted by a car backfiring outside, rushed to the window. Behind his back, Ursula gave me a thumbs up.

  She walked Zorn to the classroom. She knew how to deal with aggressive men. Her tone of voice was soothing. She kept one hand on his elbow and gently steered him.

  As soon as they were out of sight, I grabbed Vangie. “I’ll keep Zorn busy, out of sight in the classroom. You get out of here, as quick as you can. As quiet as you can.”

  Pearl said, “Take my car. I’ll get home somehow. I’ll stay with Dewey.” She tossed her head and grinned. “I’m good at distracting.”

  “Give me those damn pills,” I said.

  Pearl handed them over. “Good bye, good mood,” she said morosely. “Good bye, sense of accomplishment. Good bye, vim and vigor.”

  I squeezed her. “Come on. We’ve got real-life excitement. There’s nothing like fooling a cop to get your heart rate up.”

  “Wait,” Vangie said. “I can’t keep running from this guy. Maybe I should …”

  I put a warning finger up. “NO! You don’t need to spend any more time with the police. Someone wanted those drugs that you found in your car. Let me find that stash. Then we can lead Zorn to Wyatt’s killer.”

  Vangie chewed her cuticle and looked over the edge. I followed her gaze. There was no sign of Zorn, but there was no guarantee he would stay in the classroom either.

  I gave her a tiny shove. “Come on, now. Go. And call Larry.”

  “Catch,” Pearl said. She tossed the ring of keys. Too hard. The keys sailed over the railing and landed with a metallic clang on the floor below. A tiny beaded koi flashed.

  Vangie gasped. I froze and grabbed her hand. We held our breath as we waited for Zorn to investigate
the noise.

  “Stay here,” Pearl said. She raced down the steps. At the bottom, she looked up and blew Vangie a kiss. She picked up the keys and set them on top of a display of thread. “Detective Zorn is here?” she asked loudly as she sashayed out of sight.

  I started down the steps pulling Vangie behind me. “Go out the front. We’ll keep him busy.”

  “Dewey,” Vangie began, her voice breaking. “Find those drugs. Please.”

  I hugged her hard. She ducked through the aisles, taking cover behind the bookrack and finally getting out the door. The little Mini went by the window just as I turned to see Zorn behind me.

  Pearl was right behind him. “Why, Detective Zorn. Can’t you take off that cowboy hat and sit a minute? Did you have some of the melon? It’s so sweet for this time of year.”

  He ignored Pearl’s charms. “Ms. Pellicano, I am looking for Ms. Estrada.”

  I tried batting my eyelashes. From the look on Pearl’s face, I had no career as a charmer. “Have you spoken to her lawyer? I’m sure she’s in touch with him.”

  His eyes narrowed. The shadow cast by his hat gave him a sinister cast. I felt my breath catch. “You’re playing a dangerous game, hiding a murder suspect.”

  Pearl darted close to him, like a tiny pit bull. Her lips were curled. “Vangie is not the murdering kind.”

  He turned quickly and she reeled back. I stepped next to Pearl and put my arm around her. She was trembling.

  Zorn spoke harshly. “That is not for you or anyone else to determine. I am the detective in charge. I will speak to Ms. Estrada without interference from either of you. The law is on my side, not yours.”

  Zorn was the worst kind of bully. One with real authority and power. I had to be careful what I said. He would have me up on obstruction charges. “I’m sure her lawyer could arrange for you two to meet.” I smiled sweetly, despite the grinding pain in my belly.

  “Things could get dicey at the department for your boyfriend, you know. Very easily.”

  I steadied myself. He had the capability to make Buster’s life miserable too.

  Zorn was an all-American cretin.

  He had nothing on Vangie. She wasn’t guilty of anything.

  Except hiding a stash of drugs. I kept the stab of despair I felt off my face.

  Zorn gathered himself. “I will issue a warrant for her arrest if Ms. Estrada does not present herself to me in one hour. One hour.”

  He turned on his stacked heel and left. I felt a trickle of sweat run between my shoulder blades. The wet sensation made me shiver. Pearl felt me quiver and squeezed me.

  “Vangie did nothing wrong, Dewey. Don’t worry.”

  “I know, Pearl, I know.”

  I had to go look for the drugs. They were evidence. Evidence that would clear Vangie.

  “You stay here,” I said to Pearl. I gestured to Ursula. “Can you keep Pearl busy?”

  “Sure can,” she said. “I need some help with the Strip Club fabric choices.”

  I didn’t want Pearl around when I called Buster and let him know that Ross had been trading Pearl’s prescriptions. He could get Ross out of Pearl’s house. I didn’t care what happened to him after that. We would get Pearl to a real doctor and get her some good meds.

  I called Vangie. “Where are you? Did you go to Pearl’s?”

  “I did, but I’m gone. I left the car there and took my bike. I’m on my way to school.”

  “Good. Don’t go back to Pearl’s. I’m sending Buster over there to pick up Ross. I’ll tell Buster to call you when it’s safe.”

  I called Buster next. He had been napping but woke up quickly when I told him the scenario. He agreed to pick up Ross for questioning.

  Tying Lois to Barb V would have to wait.

  _____

  “I’ll be back,” I said to Jenn as I went out to my car after I’d talked to Buster. Ursula had taken Pearl and they were in the fabric stacks. “Call my cell if something happens and you need me.”

  I went back to the street where Wyatt had died. I parked in front of the hedges that had sheltered us from the wind that night. In the daylight, I could see the house, a corner cinder-block ranch, painted dark brown. I needed to get into the backyard.

  Lois’s purse was on the front seat, where I’d left it after taking it to Freddy’s yesterday. I tucked it under my arm. If any nosy neighbors were about, I could claim to be returning it to its owner. Lois’s street was nearby.

  I went around to the front yard facing the cross street, alert to any activity. The neighborhood was quiet. Late-blooming coral roses climbed a white arbor in front of the walkway to the door.

  I had the feeling that I’d been here before. The house looked a lot like the one where I’d taken oboe lessons when I was a kid. Maybe that was it. I’d only lasted a month but it must have left an impression on me.

  San Jose was officially a big city, but in certain places, if felt like a small town.

  I knocked on the front door. I wanted to make sure no one was home before I let myself into the backyard. I didn’t need any interruptions. I couldn’t forget that Vangie had been attacked here.

  I looked up and down the street. No one was outside, so I stepped into Lois’s backyard.

  I made my way around a saggng clothesline. Clothespins jiggled by the wind were a sad sight. I imagined Lois washing her new fabric and hanging the colorful pieces. Lois wouldn’t be using that line ever again.

  A used-brick walkway with grass growing in the cracks led me past two raised beds made of decking lumber. Spinach and pretty purple kale grew among dead stalks. A lone tomato lay squashed in the dirt. In the back corner, a lemon tree was shedding fruit. The usual life and death cycle of a garden seemed portentous today.

  At the end of the walkway was a bench, the heavy-duty plastic kind that did double duty as a storage bin.

  I felt a chill, like someone was watching me. I looked up and checked the yard. A jay scolded me from a redwood, a flash of blue as he dived toward me. I ducked and he was gone.

  I looked back the way I’d come, thinking about how Vangie had raced in from the street, with Wyatt dead in her car. She couldn’t have gone far to hide the bag of drugs. I opened the storage bin, but aside from an open bag of fertilizer and a scattering of bulbs, it was empty.

  I didn’t see any other hiding place. The yard was wide open. There was no garden shed, no empty pots. Not even a convenient watering can.

  The jay screeched again and I opened the lid wider. The sun came out from behind a cloud and suddenly I saw a clean spot on the bottom. As if something had sat there.

  I closed the lid and sat down on the bin. Wyatt had the drugs with him in Vangie’s car. She hid them here. When she came back for them, they were gone. Someone had hit her after she left. Someone who thought her backpack was full of drugs.

  Who?

  Maybe Vangie knew more than she was telling me. Something about Wyatt that she didn’t realize was important. A friend, a favorite hangout. Something that might lead us to the drugs and his killer.

  I’d go find her. I walked to the front of the house again. As I passed by the dining room window, I saw a sewing machine set up on the table. A pile of fabric sat next to a rotary cutting board. The fabric caught my eye. The colors were the same as the purse in my hand.

  I backed up, nearly falling over a ceramic frog perched under a bush. What was the address? I glanced back at the street sign. Ninth Street.

  My heart thudded. Lois lived on Ninth. The chimes tinkled, just like that night. The night that Wyatt had been murdered.

  Vangie had said she’d been bringing Wyatt home. Wyatt lived with Lois? Was this the connection Zorn was hinting at? Wyatt and Lois knew each other?

  There was only one way to find out. With both of them dead, the house would be empty. I needed in.

  Kevin had given me a lock pick key ring as a joke last Christmas, but I’d been practicing. Lois’s lock was an old one, without a deadbolt.

  I stuck the tor
sion wrench into the lock, tapping the pins with the pick, starting from back to front. I heard the lock open with a satisfying click. I was in.

  I stepped in and closed the door quickly. Yesterday’s paper was still on the kitchen table. One coffee cup and plate were in the sink. A fading Trader Joe’s bouquet of flowers were in a speckled vase in the kitchen window.

  I bypassed Lois’s violet bedroom and headed for the closed door at the end of the short hall.

  I stopped, hand on the knob, and took a breath. What if I found something that lead to Vangie? Something I really didn’t want to know.

  She’d assured me she wasn’t addicted. She wasn’t dealing drugs and she hadn’t taken any. The question,was, did I believe her? Could I trust her?

  I let my breath out. Of course I could. She was Vangie.

  I opened the door. My eyes had to adjust to the darkness. The plaid shade on the single window opposite the door was closed. I dared not open it and attract the attention of a neighbor. I flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. I left the door open, letting light from the hall show me the way to a lamp on the maple nightstand.

  It illuminated the room well enough so I could see a matching set of furniture. Single bed, desk, and bookshelves. Nothing looked new. Lois could have decorated this guest room years ago. The blue corduroy bedspread had been tossed on the floor.

  A pair of khakis were folded over the desk chair. A skinny striped tie was laid on top. It reminded me of Ross, when he’d come to apply to be Pearl’s GrandSon.

  The truth hit me. Lois had mentioned a grandson, helping her map out her route to the Crawl. Wyatt had been living with Lois. Not a grandson, a GrandSon.

  Poor Lois. She must have found the stash of drugs. And got herself killed.

  Seventeen

  On the desk was a laptop. I lifted the cover. Wyatt’s Twitter account was open. It hadn’t been refreshed. A line at the top read 967 new tweets. The ones on his page had been sent before the protest, before he died. A mention of Vitamin R chilled me. The street name for Ritalin. Scrolling back, I saw requests for HH and Oxy.

  Wyatt had been dealing drugs and somehow escaped the Task Force’s sweep. No wonder he had been protesting so much.