Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1

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Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1 Page 25

by Margaret Lashley


  “Uh...okay.”

  “I’ll be by in ten minutes to pick you up.”

  I clicked off the phone and made a mad scramble to the bathroom. A slimy green corpse stared back at me from the mirror. I scrubbed the avocado mask from my face and pinned back my scraggly wet hair. I dove into a denim sundress and was trying to slap on some blush when the clock ran out. Tom texted me. He was waiting downstairs in the 4Runner.

  I flung on some sandals, grabbed my purse and sunglasses, and dashed out the door.

  BITTERSWEET RELIEF washed over me as I flew down the rickety steps of my apartment.

  We’d found Glad’s girl!

  I tried to read Tom’s face as I climbed in the 4Runner, but it was undecipherable. I stole a glance in the backseat. It was empty.

  No Winky. This time Tom and I were on our own.

  Part of me was thrilled. The other part was scared spit-less. I sat close to the passenger door and held onto the armrest. Tom seemed all business. The awkward gulf between us seemed ten miles wide.

  We traveled in tense silence for about ten minutes. It wasn’t until Tom pulled onto I-275 that he finally spoke.

  “So tell me, how does it feel to have solved your first case, Detective Fremden?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Tom had tried to tell a joke.

  “It feels great. Not so much for my sake, but for Glad’s.”

  I smiled over at Tom, thinking the ice was broken between us. But it was only cracked. The silence returned and filled the 4Runner like a million Styrofoam peanuts. I stared at the sparkling blue water of Tampa Bay as we crossed the Howard Frankland Bridge and wracked my brain for something to say. But for once in my life, I was completely stumped.

  Tom came to the rescue with another attempt at humor.

  “Off in Lady Lala Land?” he asked.

  Geeze. That man could not tell a proper joke.

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Seriously, Val. What are you thinking about? Are you nervous?”

  His question caused me to bristle unexpectedly.

  “Nervous? What should I be nervous about?”

  “About seeing loony-bin Thelma again.”

  “Oh. Until you mentioned it, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Sorry. My bad. If we stop for a cold drink along the way, you’re not going to drug me, are you?”

  I smirked. “We’ll see.”

  Tom laughed, then spoke in a soft, serious tone. “Why so quiet?”

  Why? Because it’s torture to sit here, knowing you don’t want me, Tom! Knowing that you think I’m a lunatic. A drunkard. A hooker! A drug pusher!

  “I dunno. I guess I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Fair enough. How about telling me about your time in Germany.”

  I watched the big green sign for Bearss Avenue flit by, the last exit for Tampa. Nothing but two hours of boring highway ahead.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Tom reached in a little cooler by his feet. He handed me a can of Dr. Pepper.

  “How about starting with why you went.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I took the soda and cracked the tab on it. “Honestly, I guess I just wanted to see if I was in the wrong country. The US, I mean. For some reason, I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong. That’s why I went to Europe.”

  “Didn’t belong?”

  I shot him a knowing glance. “You’ve met my mom.”

  “Oh. Yeah. But what about before that, when you made your big escape from Two Egg?”

  I looked over at Tom. A ping of sadness flitted across my heart. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the same jeans I’d picked French fries from just a century-long couple of weeks ago. My heart began to ache.

  “You really do remember everything people say.”

  “The interesting things, yes.”

  “You thought Two Egg was interesting?”

  Tom looked over and cocked his head. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I dunno. You’ve seen so much of my life. Correction. My crazy, screwed-up life. Why would that be interesting to you?”

  Tom laughed and crinkles formed beside his sea-green eyes.

  “The crazy parts are the best parts of life, Val. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about our imperfections. Our quirks. They’re what make us real. They make us who we are. They’re like...the best part of us, Val. Without them, we’d be like...I dunno. Like generic zombies. Everybody the same.”

  Something loosened up inside me, allowing me to breathe for the first time since I got in Tom’s vehicle.

  “Oh,” I said, and blew out a sarcastic laugh. “When you look at it that way, I must be the Queen of Quirkiness.”

  Tom laughed.

  “The secret to quirks is to own them, Val. Don’t fight them. Celebrate them! If you don’t, it’s kind of like...disowning part of yourself. And you know what they say about a house divided....”

  “It cannot stand. I get it, Tom. But I can’t stand...I mean, I can’t stand myself, sometimes.”

  “Oh. That’s normal. That’s when you need a friend to lean on.”

  I looked over at Tom. He was grinning at me from ear to ear. I was powerless to keep myself from grinning back.

  “Are you my friend, Tom?”

  “Of course I am, Val.”

  I sat back and grinned some more.

  “That’s very nice to know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  WE MADE GOOD TIME, stopping to refuel in Lake City and grabbing a quick bite at the Krystal Burger drive-thru. I was too embarrassed to order fries. By the time I got over my indigestion, we were driving by the capitol building in downtown Tallahassee. The odd, red-and-white awnings on the façade always made the place look like a peppermint-candy-striped house of ill repute.

  Tom made a few more turns and maneuvered the 4Runner into the parking lot of Phelps Labs, a shiny glass building that looked like a three-story block of blue-grey mirrors. He cut the ignition and looked over at me.

  “Well, here we go.”

  We entered the lobby and Tom asked to see his buddy, Darryl Gonzales Foreman. The receptionist punched some numbers in a switchboard and motioned for us to take a seat. “Is your buddy a relative?” I asked Tom.

  Before he could answer a woman appeared from behind a glass door. She was a knockout. A luscious Latina in a lab coat. She could have made J-Lo scratch her own eyes out in envy.

  “Hello, Tom!” she said, raising her arms to embrace him.

  “Hello, Darryl.”

  The two exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheek. Then the woman turned and looked at me.

  “You must be the budding detective Tom told me about.”

  I felt like a total schlep. I shook her hand and bemoaned my sorry state. No makeup. Greasy hair in a ponytail. I couldn’t have felt any frumpier if I’d been wearing curlers and a ratty bathrobe.

  “Yes, I’m Val Fremden. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Darryl, Tom’s ex-wife.”

  I TRIED NOT TO COLLAPSE from the surprise punch to my gut. I bit my tongue, raised my chin an inch and slapped on my best fake smile.

  “Well, then, Tom’s ex. Should we get down to business?”

  Darryl led us to a small conference room. She closed the door behind her and opened a green file. She showed us some papers with dots and charts, but all I could see were disillusion-filled stars. I half-listened as she droned on with her perfect, beautiful, pouty-lipped mouth.

  “Tests confirm the mitochondrial DNA from the woman’s hair and the...”

  This should be a great moment for me. Why do I feel like I want to die?

  “...man’s toenail clippings prove patriarchal bonds. The McGoldrick-Gesson test...”

  Suck it up, Val. This isn’t about you.

  “...just one generation away. Chan
ces are around 2 billion to one...”

  Focus! Focus! Focus!

  I snapped out of my pity party just in time to hear Ms. Foreman’s final words.

  “It’s definitely a match. You’ve found your missing daughter.”

  I burst into tears.

  “Are you okay, Val?” Tom asked.

  “Sure. I just need a moment. Great news. Is there a lady’s room around here?”

  “Yes. Let me show you the way,” offered Darryl. “This place is like a maze. You’ll never find your way there and back.”

  Darryl led me down some corridors to the women’s restroom. She stood and watched as I dabbed at my runny eyes in the mirror.

  “So you’re Tom’s ex-wife?” I croaked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “He didn’t tell you? Typical Tom.” Darryl blew out a breath and a short laugh. “Just like him to not mention the five-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. Yes. I’m Tom’s ex.”

  Something inside me shifted. I stared at the brilliant beauty queen for a moment.

  “What happened with you two?” Suddenly, I remembered my manners. “Ooops! Sorry. It’s none of my business!”

  Darryl laughed.

  “It’s okay. No big secret here. We were together for ten years. He’s a good guy. It’s just that...well, sometimes you just know it’s time to say goodbye. It’s nobody’s fault. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, we’ve...I’ve been....”

  “Say no more, I get it.”

  “Geeze. I’m sorry, Darryl. I have no claim on him.”

  Darryl laughed again.

  “Not to worry, Val. If you want him, he’s all yours. He’s a good guy. Just remember, relationships don’t come with lifetime guarantees. You just have to enjoy the moments as they come. Accept what is. Be responsible for your own happiness. That way you always know where you stand.”

  “You sound like a friend of mine. Glad.”

  “Sure. I’d be glad to be your friend.”

  I didn’t try to correct Darryl. Instead, I just accepted her offer.

  “Thanks, Darryl.” I looked at her, then back at my bedraggled reflection. “You wouldn’t happen to have some makeup on you...I had to run out the door....”

  “Makeup? You don’t need it, Val. But if you want, just give me a sec.”

  Darryl disappeared, then reappeared with her makeup bag. In five minutes, she had me looking like a Caucasian version of herself. Well, almost. When we reappeared together in the conference room, Tom stood up.

  “Wow! You two look gorgeous! I’d take you both out for drinks, but Val and I have got to get a move on.”

  I hugged Darryl and whispered, “Thank you.”

  She whispered back, “You’re welcome, anytime.”

  Tom and I turned to leave, but Darryl held out a hand to stop us.

  “Before you two leave, I was curious about something.”

  Tom and I looked at each other, then back at Darryl.

  “What?” Tom asked.

  “The samples. How did you collect so much blood from the daughter?”

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked.

  “The saliva on the cup wasn’t a match. But that bloody handkerchief was. It was like you punched her in the nose or something.”

  “Oh my God!” Tom said, and turned to me.

  “Val...that blood...it belongs to you!”

  Chapter Forty

  I AWOKE TO FIND TOM reenacting his original heroic role from Caddy’s. He was sitting on the floor of the lab’s conference room with his back against the wall, holding my head up, staunching my bloody nose with his handkerchief. Apparently I’d fainted dead away and fallen face-first to the floor.

  “Wad happened?” I asked.

  “You just became Glad’s daughter,” Tom reminded me.

  “What? How?” I asked, struggling against his grip. I wriggled around to face him.

  “That day at Caddy’s...the one freakishly similar to this one?” Tom said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I put your bloody hanky in an evidence bag. We’re trained to treat blood like hazardous waste, nowadays, you know. Plus, I didn’t want to stain up my car. So I put the bag in a manila envelope. I forgot about it. I must have put Thelma’s cup in the same envelope and sent it off to the lab by mistake.”

  “Oh, it was no mistake,” said Darryl, laughing. “The world works in mysterious ways.”

  “But...wait. How can I not be my own mother’s daughter?”

  “That’s a very good question,” said Tom. “Why don’t we take a little trip and find out.”

  THE HOUR-LONG DRIVE to Mom’s house took two weeks. My head throbbed from the fall. My ears were full of whooshing sounds timed to the beat of my thumping heart. My mind whirled back and forth between Glad and Mom...or the woman I thought was my mom. When we finally pulled up in the yard, I was so nervous I could barely walk. Tom took my hand and helped me to the door. He knocked on it gently.

  “Who’s thar?” Mom called out.

  “Mrs. Short! It’s Tom. I’ve got your dau...I’ve got Valiant with me.”

  I frowned and stuck an elbow in Tom’s ribs.

  “Ow!” Tom grinned at me. “So feisty!”

  “Always has been,” Mom said through the screen door. “You’re back sooner’n I thought, Valiant. Y’all come on in.”

  Mom unlatched the screen door and we stepped inside her liar’s lair of fakery. She plopped her butt in her recliner. Tom and I took positions on the couch, below the gallery of false family photos. I felt like I was trapped inside a cheap time-travel movie, experiencing déjà vu from another lifetime. I was sad, confused, angry and somehow elated all at the same time.

  But mostly, I just wanted to cry.

  “Am I your real daughter?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  Mom leaned back in her recliner and studied us. Her eyes shifted back and forth between Tom and me. Finally, she said, “So’s you done gone and found out, have you?”

  My inner child threw a fit.

  “What? It’s true? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well, now, Val, before you go gettin’ up on that high horse a yours, I did tell you. One time when you was about six. You just went to squallin’, so I told you I made the whole story up.”

  “What is the whole story? I’m ready to hear it now.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then. Not much to tell, really. It was a warm spell in April, 1975. I remember ’cause your dad...well...Justas...your dad.... Anyway, Justas had decided he’d go fishin’ for bream. Them fish get hungry as the dickens when the water starts warming up in spring.”

  Mom looked off in the distance for a moment.

  “Okay. The fish get hungry,” I said.

  Mom’s attention returned to the room. “I remember I was getting all the fixin’s together for a fish fry when Justas come in saying he’d caught a whopper. I figured it was one a them big old catfish or a lunker, and my mouth started to waterin’. I love me some catfish, don’t you know. Then he handed me a bundle wrapped up in The Jackson Times. I laid it on the counter and it started to squallin’ like a baby. I opened it up and there you was. A dad-burned baby.”

  Mom laughed. “Justas said he found you along the road by the culberts. That’s his favorite fishin’ spot. You wat’n old enough to sit up yet, so you was just laying there, all quiet-like in the grass off the side of the road. He said if he’d a drove another two feet, you would a been squashed under his tire. But he didn’t. And you wasn’t. You was just layin’ there, like I said, all quiet-like.”

  Mom adjusted herself in the recliner and leaned toward us. “Justas thought you might be dead, but when he poked you with a stick, you opened your eyes and giggled. Well, he thought that took a lot of courage. He brought you home and we kept you for a week without tellin’ no one. We checked the papers, but nobody claimed you. We was gonna turn you in, but by then Justas was heartsick in love with you. We decided best thing t
o do was just keep you for good. Figured it was better than you ending up in a orphanage. Besides, you was cute and had spunk. We went to the Chattahoochee health clinic and told em you was borned at home.”

  “Nobody ever came to claim me?”

  “Nope. Justas wanted to call you Courage, but I thought that sounded too mannish. We settled on Valiant, ’cause at least you could have a good nickname – Val. See? What’n that smart a me?”

  Mom looked at me for praise and approval. I smiled politely and nodded.

  “I mean, what could you do with Courage? Coo? Curr? That ain’t no good. On the certificate, I wrote down your birthday as April Fools’ Day, ’cause I thought it was funny. And I still wat’n sure what we were doing wat’n a pile of foolishness. Get it?”

  Mom grinned at her own cleverness. I smiled and nodded again.

  “Anyhoo, them folks at the clinic didn’t ask no questions, Val. They just typed up the certificate. And that’s how you came to be our other daughter, Valiant W. Jolly.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me later, when I was grown?”

  “Tell you what? That you was throwed out like trash? That nobody wanted you? What good would a come a that?”

  Her words stung, but they made sense in hindsight. “You did the right thing, Mom.”

  Mom looked defiant. “I know that. You ain’t got to tell me.”

  “Okay. Sorry. Mom, I know it sounds weird, but did you find anything in my diaper?”

  “Besides a mess a turds? Woo, child you stunk to high heaven!”

  “Something besides that,” I said as my face grew hot.

  “Now that you mention it, yep. There was something. I plum near forgot about it.” Mom laughed to herself. “Darndest thing. It was a little jewelry bug. A moth or a June bug or somethin’. I remember it woulda been purty if it wat’n busted.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “I used to catch you playin’ with it all the time. I had to hide it away. ’Fraid you might swaller it. Last time I seen it, it was in the bottom drawer of my jewelry box. Why don’t you go fetch it, Valiant.”

  I raced to Mom’s bedroom. Buried amongst piles of lotions and perfume bottles, I found her jewelry box. I opened the bottom drawer. At the back underneath a tangled heap of cheap costume jewelry, I found what I was looking for. A little blue-bodied dragonfly with one green wing. I held it to my chest, closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

 

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