“What’s in it?”
“Money. I had some stashed away in a locker. I might not be able to send her any more.”
Money! Amy was perplexed. Was this Michael’s pay-off for some drug deal, and were the two women innocent go-betweens?
“Please, Amy, see that she gets it.”
God, was that love for his sister she saw in his eyes, or was it an excellent theatrical performance?
“Todd, I...”
“Go.” His voice was firm, his lips had tightened around the word, and the softness in his eyes had disappeared. He moved to the front hall, peered through a peephole, then opened the door. She didn’t have a chance to talk.
Chapter 17
Joey’s Girl
Todd cursed how foolish he had been to set up the meeting with Amy. He had taken ridiculous chances for which he deserved to be caught. Lord, he was getting sloppy, he thought. Never would he have done this for any other woman. But lying in bed remembering what it felt like to cuddle spoon-fashion against her back drove him out into daylight to reach her. Yes, he also needed to get the money to his sister, but there were other ways. He couldn’t afford to worry over a neat-looking fickle broad. Why did she bother to come if she believed he had killed his partner? Todd wished he hadn’t gotten involved with her. Forget her and go back to saving your own neck, he commanded himself.
First he’d have to get his things together and clean up the bathroom. He didn’t want Kay to suspect he had been in the house, even though it was the usual time of the year when he house-sat for her. A friendly lumbering Labrador was usually part of the deal, but Kay must have put him in a kennel after she read the newspapers.
Night had come on, and it made Todd’s chores more difficult, but he dared not turn on a light for fear that the neighbors would call the police. Luckily, there was a full moon, which cast an eerie glow across the massive, intricately carved wooden bed that he had planned on borrowing for the night. He couldn’t sleep in the ornate beast now. It was meant for two, not for a lonesome, wanted man.
Todd adjusted the eye patch over his left eye and pulled the smelly knit cap and jacket on over the clean shirt and jeans he had washed that morning in Kay’s machine.
He took one last look at the bed. “Flighty woman,” he murmured. He’d clear his name and thumb his nose at her the next time he saw her.
Todd left the house by the back door. Trees surrounded the property, and he was able to find his way to a dirt path that took him onto the streets of San Francisco.
Hours later he was back on his unsavory beat, attempting to find someone who could piece together Joey’s last days. Morgan, the man who had tried to pick up Amy, had claimed to be a friend of Joey’s. It could have been a line, but Todd couldn’t afford to pass Morgan up, even if he might turn out to be a bad lead. Todd had spent several nights at the same bar looking for Morgan. Tonight he had planned on skipping Morgan’s watering-hole for more pleasant company. Amy’s mouth nipped that idea.
It was fortunate she had, because as soon as Todd entered the bar, he saw Morgan. Same seat, same hang-dog look, and same boiler-maker.
“Hey, Morgan, how goes it?” Todd said slapping the guy on the back.
Morgan turned his head toward Todd. His forehead furrowed. His nose twitched. A dim light shone in his eyes.
“You’re the guy who chased that dame away. Fanny, or whatever the hell her name was.”
“Names aren’t important, Morgan, only the bod is.”
“Yeah, and she had a winner.”
Todd grimaced. Somehow, discussing Amy like this didn’t sit right with him.
“What you drinking?” Morgan asked.
“Same,” Todd answered, nodding his head at Morgan’s drinks.
The bartender served up a shot of whiskey with a foamy beer.
“Just as well she disappeared,” Morgan grimly said. “She looked like she would have been a dud, anyhow. All show and no action, you know what I mean. But man, you sure didn’t help when you plopped yourself down next to her. She ran off so fast, there wasn’t anything I could do to stop her. Bartender says he never saw her here before. I wouldn’t mind running into her again, even if she is a tease. Load them up with enough booze and—”
“You hang around here a lot?” Todd interrupted. He had tired of Morgan’s demeaning chatter.
“Funny, that dame asked me the same thing. She was looking for somebody.”
“Who?”
“A guy who used to float in and out of here from time to time. Only spoke to him a couple of times. Toward the end he used to show up with a dark-haired cutie. Didn’t bother with the rest of us when he was with her. Couldn’t blame him. Hell, the more I think about it, I might have scored with that babe Fanny that you chased away.”
If Morgan referred to Amy as Fanny one more time he might take violent action. Then again, maybe it was preferable that Morgan not remember her name.
“So you never spoke to the guy’s girl?”
“She said she wasn’t his girl.”
“You spoke to the dark-haired woman?”
“Dark-haired? Hell, her hair was as bright as fire. Reddest red-head I’ve ever seen, and it looked natural, too.”
It took Todd a minute to figure out that Morgan was again referring to Amy and not to Joey’s companion.
“I’m talking about the woman with that guy. What’s his name?”
“Joey. Joey Landis. She wasn’t bad-looking either.” Morgan leaned close to Todd and spoke in a low growl. “But I’ve never had a real red-head before.” He nudged Todd’s arm, which almost reflexively swung back.
“How often did you see the dark-haired woman with Joey?”
“What? You interested in Joey too?”
“Curious.”
“Yeah, that was some way to go. He must have been chopped meat by the time that partner of his got finished with him. They say there was blood all over the bathroom walls. At least he put up a fight.”
Todd’s eyes closed. Joey lay on the bathroom floor, his chest and abdomen ripped apart. Todd lifted the shot glass. He hadn’t meant to drink at all. He wanted a clear head, but he downed the whiskey in one gulp, not bothering to wash it down with the beer.
“You look kind of down and out; want another?”
“Yeah,” Todd resignedly said.
The bartender filled the glass to overflowing and slipped another few bills from the stack in front of Morgan.
“Papers are saying it was a drug deal gone sour. I didn’t know Joey was into that kind of thing. Although the broad looked a bit high a few times.”
“Didn’t catch her name, did you?” Given Morgan’s memory in relation to Amy, he knew this question was a long shot.
“Heard him call her something once or twice. Might not have even been a real name. He could have said baby or honey or sweetie or any number of endearments.”
“She had dark hair; remember anything else about her?”
“You some sort of detective? You sound like it with all these questions.”
“I told you, I’m curious. I’d like to avoid that babe; she might be trouble.”
Morgan laughed.
“Doubt you can afford to be so picky,” he said, looking Todd up and down.
“I’d still like to stay alive.”
“She was good-looking. Good body, not like Fanny’s. Less generous in the important areas,” he said, making a hand gesture. “Boy, if those weren’t falsies on Fanny...”
“You’re obsessed.”
“Everyone’s got dreams and aspirations. Most times, I’m not so particular myself. I guess I don’t have to tell you the kind of woman that usually hangs out around here. Fanny seemed to have class. Drank watered-down grape juice. Take forever to get a woman warmed up with that stuff.”
“How tall was Joey’s friend?”
“You think you know her?”
“I told you...”
“Yeah, you’re curious. Too curious.”
Todd wat
ched in the mirror as Morgan squinted at his profile.
“Thanks for the drinks,” Todd said, rising from his stool. Todd threw back his head and let the cheap amber liquid roll down his gullet.
“What about the beer?” Morgan asked.
“I didn’t touch it.”
Morgan slid the beer glass in front of himself. “Waste not, want not,” he said to the bartender, who was wiping his hands on a white cotton dish towel.
Todd took himself straight back to his seedy hotel room. It was only one in the morning. There was still a brisk business going on; bodies were groping on the staircase and doors were slamming shut behind bargaining couples. His own room was quiet; evidently his adjoining tenants were still out soliciting business. The same sweep of moonlight that had shone through Kay’s bedroom window stretched across his single bed.
Big difference, he thought, between what he had planned for tonight and the reality.
Rolling down the ratty coverlet he exposed the yellowed sheets. Several areas showed signs of having been darned. He was surprised anyone had bothered. Todd took off his jacket and cap and threw them on top of the mirrored bureau. There was no chair in the room. He placed the eye patch on the metal table beside the bed that served as a night stand. Todd opened the laces on his sneakers and kicked the shoes off before falling across the mattress.
He wasn’t sure if he had collected any relevant material. Joey had been alone most of his life. Women weren’t that important to him except as a physical release. Todd had never seen Joey with the same woman more than once, and usually he kept them for the late night hours. He had never brought anyone to social occasions such as Jennie’s wedding. Joey may have found a steady who agreed with his life style, accepted what little free time he offered—but it seemed strange that he never mentioned her to Todd. Todd thought back to the last few months of Joey’s life. Nothing peculiar came to mind. No special female. As a mater of fact, during the last month of his life, Joey had flippantly boasted about his numerous conquests.
He tried to visualize the dark-haired women he had seen lately, but it was difficult, for all he could recall were golden red curls.
“Fanny!” How could the ass possibly forget her name. He sure as hell couldn’t.
Chapter 18
Wife-Beater
For several days Amy was irritable. She wasn’t angry at the world but at herself for allowing Roger Davidson to spook her. During her evenings at home, she would repeatedly check the envelope Todd had given her. Amy wanted to know exactly how much money she had been asked to pass on and whether the sum was large enough for a drug deal. She knew the amount would mean nothing to her, but the idea that he could potentially be using her lingered, even when she consciously tried to squash her skepticism. The next day was Saturday, and she was scheduled to meet Jennie at the library. It would be difficult to confront his sister. If it was true that Todd and Michael were dealing drugs, Amy was willing to bet that Jennie was a pawn like herself.
Amy slept lightly as she had the previous nights. She woke frequently, imagining a movement in the room or a hushed knock on her apartment door. She wanted Todd to reach out to her from the shadows of her bedroom and convince her that he had no bad dealings. Most of all, she wished to apologize for all her unwanted suspicions. There couldn’t be any connection between Todd and that scuzzy brother-in-law, she insisted to herself. Todd was handsome enough and social enough to be a ladies’ man, as Roger Davidson had suggested, but she was positive Todd didn’t have the brutal nature of a drug dealer and murderer. Amy cried into her pillow, falling asleep minutes before her alarm went off.
Dressed in jeans and denim shirt with a navy blazer, Amy left the apartment to keep her appointment at the library. She arrived early and found herself a seat at a table near the door, where she could see all who entered. A magazine lay flat on the table top before her, but she never read a word. Mothers filed in carrying tots or holding the hands of their toddling young children. Most of the children were excited. One or two still had the heavy lids of sleepyheads just awakened. They were separating from their mothers, finding space on the floor or pushing small chairs into a semicircle around the librarian. On the hour the story began. Amy looked toward the door. No Jennie.
Jennie never showed. Amy was relieved that Michael hadn’t lumbered in with his children in tow. Children were hesitantly rejoining their mothers. Some carried picture books chosen in haste or because the cover was particularly colorful.
Amy waited another fifteen minutes, hoping that Jennie had been delayed but still would keep her date. When the room had quieted and older children began flooding the library, Amy had to make a decision. Should she head over to Jennie’s apartment and check on the young mother, or should she go home and wait for a call? During their last meeting Amy had given both her telephone number and address to Jennie in case she or the children should need to reach her.
As much as she detested Michael, she even worried about him. Certainly if her husband was ill or injured Jennie would not leave him alone. Amy didn’t think the upstairs neighbors would be much help.
Amy steeled herself as she climbed the stairs leading to Jennie’s residence. She knocked loudly on the door; she didn’t want to give herself a convenient out by tapping and maybe not being heard. After several raps, Michael pulled the door open. His attire was the same as on her first visit: lackluster underwear. However, she did spy a dark red stain on the lower half of the shirt. Michael stood staring at her.
“Is Jennie home?”
“Ah, the librarian.”
“Assistant.”
“Bullshit!” Michael reached out and threw her against the banister. If she tumbled over, she had a clear drop to the first floor. Perhaps not enough to kill her, but she assumed she could be badly hurt.
She attempted to wriggle around his bulk, but he prevented her from moving, keeping his arms wrapped around her body, while he held on to the chunky wooden handrail. He pushed his gut into her abdomen. His breath was hot and stale. His armpits oozed a sour smell that brought on a wave of nausea in her stomach.
“You don’t learn, do you, bitch?” He jerked his body quickly.
Amy almost screamed, until she realized he wasn’t going to toss her over the rail after all. He was trying to scare her but had sense enough not to want a bloody mess near his doorstep.
“Stay away from my family,” he hissed. “Or else I’ll come find you.”
She saw a slight movement just beyond his left forearm.
“Leave her alone,” Jennie whispered.
“Get back in the house,” he grunted.
“Not till you let her go.”
Suddenly Michael turned. Briefly, Amy caught a glimpse of Jennie’s face. It was swollen. Her eyes were purple, and she had a raw gash above one eyebrow. Then she was gone.
“Her brother would...” hissed Amy uncontrollably.
Michael returned his attention to Amy.
“Her brother. That bastard’s got you tied around his finger, doesn’t he? That’s why you come snooping around, breaking up my family.”
“You’re responsible for anything that happens to your family. How could you do that to her? You’re an animal.”
Michael took a handful of her hair and flung her against a wall. At first she was stunned; then she saw him swing back his right fist. Amy ducked and drew her knee up between his legs, hitting her target. She heard him bark out a curse at her as she fled down the flight of stairs. She was out the front door and running down the street before she felt the thudding in her head. A passerby offered help, but she didn’t stop until she reached the busy avenue where she found a cable car to take her home. There she collapsed onto her living room floor in tears.
Hours later, Amy rested a cold compress against the side of her head where a lump had formed. She checked herself in the bathroom mirror and saw no other sign of her confrontation with Michael, except for the puffiness of her eyelids from crying.
“Damn that ba
stard,” she cursed as she put the compress on the edge of the sink. Amy turned on the cold water tap and threw handfuls of water on her face. The skin cooled, but her gut was wrenched into a hot seething ball.
When the telephone rang, Amy grabbed a towel and dried her face. On the fifth ring she picked up.
“Hi, Am.”
“Trudy! What are you calling for?”
“Sorry. Didn’t know I couldn’t.”
“I apologize. I’m surprised that you’re calling me on a Saturday night. Normally you’d be out getting your teeth filled.”
“Funny. The dentist is out of town. Some convention in Kansas City. I told him to bring me back a box full of filet mignon. That is the place where it comes from, isn’t it?”
“One of the places.”
“You going to be home later?”
Amy almost said ‘yes’ but paused to reconsider.
“No. I’m going out.”
“Then you have a date.”
“In a way.”
“Is he as good-looking as that Todd Coleman?”
“Why mention him?”
“No reason. He was the last guy you had a date with, that I know of, that’s all. I called because I thought I’d drop by later for some girl talk and some fattening sweet chocolate mousse from the bakery near where I live. Remember how much you loved it?”
“Yes, I do. But I’m way to cranky tonight to be good company anyway.”
“If that’s the case, then it’s better you spill your spleen on me than on some innocent hunk. Come to think of it, though, none of them are innocent, are they?”
“This one is,” Amy said, knowing that Todd would never have made any kind of pact with a woman-beater like Michael.
“I guess we’ll have to get together another night, then. Don’t want to keep you from getting ready. See you on Monday.”
The line went dead before she was able to say ‘Good-bye.” Amy knew Trudy was miffed at having to spend her evening alone, but she was determined to find Todd and tell him what Michael had done to his sister.
By the time Amy reached the bar where she had found Todd on the previous occasion, she was worrying that she was taking the wrong tack. She didn’t want Todd to rush to the rescue and leave himself open to being jailed. But how could she help his sister by herself? If she talked to Jennie, maybe she’d be able to get her to a safe shelter, if one really existed.
The Taxman Killeth Page 13