Yasmine Galenorn - Chintz 'n' China 05

by One Hex of a Wedding

  Harl nodded. “You can be on the alert now that you know who’s after you. And surely the Chief will be able to help once he sees those sites.” She closed Murray’s laptop and stood up. “What about the dinner party tomorrow night? Murray, you think Jimbo’s up to coming?”

  Mur nodded. “Sounds good. I need something to take my mind off this creep, and I refuse to let him put a dent in Em’s wedding. Jimbo will be fine. He just needs a little rest today. Seven at your place, right?”

  Harlow wrinkled her nose. “Yes, and dress up. I’m going formal.”

  We were headed toward the door when the bell rang. Mur answered. It was a florist, carrying a long, narrow box. She signed for it and carried it over to the coffee table. As she unwrapped it, I could see how worried she was—and her instincts were right on key. The flowers were beautiful, deep crimson roses, thirteen of them, shrouded in baby’s breath and fern. But there was something off. They weren’t diseased, in fact they were almost perfect. But their beauty seemed contrived rather than natural. Mur opened her briefcase and pulled out a pair of latex gloves, snapping them on. Then, and only then, did she slide the card out from the envelope.

  “Oh hell.”

  “What?” White Deer asked, approaching slowly. Murray held up the card for all of us to see.

  I’ve lost my patience. I told you to get rid of him, and he’s still with you. And I saw your witch-woman friend poking around out at the lake this morning. Tell her to back off because your boyfriend’s not the only one with a house that can catch on fire. Nobody’s standing in our way. You spurned me before, but I know it was only because we worked together. But now it’s time for you to stop playing hard to get. I know how you really feel about me. I know that you want me. ~R

  “Shit, you’ve got to show these to Bonner,” I said.

  She slumped in a chair. “Yeah. White Deer, will you stay here while Jimmy sleeps? I don’t want to leave him alone.”

  I watched Mur for a moment, trying to think of something to say to make everything all right, but I knew there wasn’t a thing I could do. Suddenly, she perked up and snapped her fingers.

  “I remember! I’ve been racking my brain and I remember a couple of guys that showed up at the station a few times to pick him up. They were outcasts and misfits.” She jumped up and looked around the kitchen. “Ladies, I think I’ll pay a little visit to Rusty’s friends and see what they might know about his whereabouts.”

  “Why not let the Chief take care of it?” I asked.

  “Em, don’t you get it?” She paced the length of her kitchen, stopping to stare out the window into the backyard before turning and leaning against the counter. “Tad will run prints on the flowers and card. He’ll check on Rusty’s last known residence, but he has to go through channels if we’re to make any charges stick. That could take several days. I have a nasty feeling that Rusty’s not going to wait days before making his next move. He’s already tried to kill Jimmy three times. Next time, he might not miss. I’m not going to rush in with my gun out or anything like that, but I need to start investigating on my own.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.” I pulled out my cell phone. “Let me call Joe and tell him I won’t be home till later.”

  Mur pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  “Let her go,” White Deer interjected. “You need help, and Emerald’s always been your backup, Anna. You two look after each other, you’re soul mates. Don’t let your stubborn streak rule on this matter. I want you in one piece and that means someone is going with you.”

  I crossed my arms and planted myself in front of Murray. “If you are simply going to ask a few well-placed questions, then there’s no reason I shouldn’t come along. You’ve taken me on interviews before, so why should this be any different? Jimbo’s life is at stake, woman. Get with the program.”

  “Just cave on this, Mur, or you’re going to regret it,” Harlow chimed in with her two cents. “You aren’t conducting official business, you’re simply going to knock on a few doors and ask a few questions.”

  I knew Mur was irritated but she simply nodded and grabbed a light jacket to wear over her tank top. First, however, she strapped on her shoulder holster. At my look, she said, “I never go unprepared.”

  “As well you shouldn’t,” White Deer said. “Never take chances when you know there’s an enemy nearby.”

  Murray sat down with the phone book to look up the addresses of all of Rusty’s friends whom she could remember. Harlow used the time to jot a shopping list for the dinner party, while I called Joe and told him that I’d be later than I’d thought. “I’m helping Murray ferret out a few clues. Will you feed the kids if they come in before I do?”

  He wasn’t at all happy with my news. “Does this have something to do with your little jaunt out to Jimbo’s this morning?”

  I sighed. When I thought about it, I owed him an explanation. We were practically married, and I expected nothing less than honesty from him. I couldn’t hide my actions if they might be dangerous in any way.

  “Yeah, it does.” Quickly, I filled him in on what had happened there, and what Harlow and I’d discovered on the Net. “So, we know who it is. Murray and I are just going to drop in on a few old buddies of his, see if he’s been hanging around—”

  “What? Are you both insane? What if this pervert is staying with one of them? What if he’s there when you get there? What are you going to do then?” Joe wasn’t exactly shouting, but Murray, White Deer, and Harl all turned and stared at both me and the phone.

  I smiled at them weakly and tried to calm him down. “Honey, you know as well as I do that Murray carries a gun. White Deer thinks it will be safe enough—” Here, White Deer glared at me, but I turned away. She had encouraged me to go with Murray; I was going to use her encouragement in the most beneficial way possible.

  “Yeah, Murray does carry a gun. So does this Rusty guy. I know—I was on the receiving end of one of his bullets, if you haven’t forgotten. I have no intention of letting you end up in the same position. Or worse.” He was so pissed off that I could practically feel the steam racing through the wire.

  I’d known that one day it would come to this. An argument over one of the dubious activities I’d been called upon by the universe to do. Even though he said he was okay with it, when push came to shove, most men didn’t want their women stepping into danger.

  With a sigh, I said, “Listen to me, Joe. Murray’s my best friend. She needs help and I’m going to help her. She’s been there for me when my life was on the line and she’s saved my butt before. If I can help by simply going to a few houses with her, standing outside on the porch, and asking a few questions, then I’m going to do it.”

  He paused long enough for me to add, “We’ve talked about this before. You know that sometimes I end up in danger, that sometimes the universe just picks me up and dumps me into the middle of murder and mayhem. Joe, I can’t escape my destiny, and I can’t turn my back on a friend. I’ll be careful. I promise you that. But I can’t promise to walk away when I’m needed.”

  “Damn it,” he said, and I knew I’d won. If, indeed, there could be a winner in a situation like this. “Go ahead, but please, Em, I love you. For God’s sake, be careful, and don’t do—”

  “Anything stupid,” I finished for him. “I’ll call you in a little bit and give you the addresses of where we’re going if you promise not to show up and blow things.”

  He promised, and as I hung up, I realized how good it felt to have someone care so much about me. It made me want to run home and throw myself into his arms, into our bed, to ride him with that wild passion that erupts with the realization of just how deep love can root itself in our hearts.

  Instead, I flipped my phone shut, slid it back into my purse, and turned to find Murray, ready and waiting. Harlow was holding the door open. White Deer waved at us, promising to keep watch over the house and Jimbo.

  “I’ll keep the home fires burning,” she said. “A
nd I’m going to double-check the outside cameras to make sure they’re wired right. Jimmy has a knack for all things mechanical, but I think I’m a little better with electricity than he is.” She grinned.

  Murray laughed then, a real laugh—not forced or clouded with worry. “Yeah, I’ll agree with you there.” As we headed out the back door, she said to Harl and me, “Jimmy was rewiring a lamp that got busted during the breakin. White Deer was trying to help him but he kept insisting he knew what to do and he got so caught up in proving his prowess that he ended up crossing a couple of wires and zapping himself a good one.”

  Harlow stopped by her car. “Tomorrow night at seven, then. And make sure you call me if anything important happens before then.” She paused, then put her hand on my arm. “Babe, don’t wear the necklace until you’ve cleansed it. Please?”

  I gave her my promise. “Yeah, though I think just owning it is putting a crimp in my wedding. Great, some ancient Jamaican love affair is tainting my own. I wonder …” So many mishaps. My dress, Roy showing up at the party, Joe getting shot, now the band … but then, sometimes coincidences happened, and sometimes bad luck was just what it seemed. Still, no sense in taking chances. “I’ll put it away for now and deal with it later.”

  Murray and I took my SUV. I’d drop her off at home before I headed back to my house. As we buckled up, I called Joe to give him the names and addresses, then turned to Murray. “So, where to first?”

  She consulted her notebook. “Bernard Dresser, 1690 East Columbine Lane. The street intersects with Olive, right after Suzette’s Used Books.”

  “Columbine Lane coming up.” I put the car into gear, and we headed out to try and trap ourselves a rat.

  Thirteen

  THE HOUSE WAS overgrown and rundown. Paint peeled off the weathered siding, while a few scattered shingle tiles lay around the yard. The lawn had been cut in the recent past, but the weeds along the borders of the sidewalk were knee-high, and a worn sprinkler gave off a tired spray of water. A cloud hung over the rambler, as if the house and grounds were just a pit stop, ignored and unappreciated.

  Murray knocked on the door while I stood to the side. After a moment, we could hear a shuffling inside and then the door opened a few inches. I could see that it was still chained, but if that was the only lock it wouldn’t guard against anyone who truly wanted in. A woman peeked out. She might have been thirty, she might have been sixty. I was betting on the former even though the deep creases in her face showed a lot of wear and tear.

  “What do you want?” she asked, eyeing us up and down. “You here about the rent?”

  Murray glanced at me, then shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’m a detective and I’m just here to ask a few questions—”

  The minute the word detective left Murray’s mouth, the woman’s face went blank and she began shaking her head.

  “I don’t know anything. I’ve got kids to tend here—”

  Smoothly, as if she’d fielded situations like this time and again, Murray put her hand on the door to prevent it from closing. “If you’ll just give us a moment, I’ll ask my questions and be out of here.”

  The woman squinted at her, hesitating. “What you want to know?”

  “What’s your name, please?”

  “Jolene Johnson,” came the sullen answer.

  “Ms. Johnson, do you happen to know a man named Bernard Dresser?”

  A flicker raced through Jolene’s eyes. “Yeah, what about him?”

  “This is the address I found for him. Do you happen to know where he is?” Murray seemed accustomed to one sentence answers. I patiently kept my mouth shut.

  This time, there was more than a flicker of acknowledgment. “No, but if you find him, you tell him to get his butt home. Damned idiot hasn’t paid the rent and the kids are hungry.” Jolene opened the door a little wider. “You want to come in?”

  We accepted, though I noticed as we entered Murray’s gaze swung from side to side. I knew she was scoping out the place, checking for any potential dangers. The room into which Jolene led us was neat as a pin, but the teeth of poverty had gnawed on the edges. The furniture was used, the television a good twenty years out-of-date. A sickly-looking fern graced one window, and an oil painting—a still life of flowers in a vase—overlooked the fireplace. I could see three pairs of eyes peeking out from one of the other rooms.

  “Have a seat,” Jolene said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Murray shook her head. “No, thank you, we won’t take up much of your time. Ms. Johnson, what’s your relationship to Bernard?”

  The woman sighed and dropped into an orange recliner. “Bernard and me was dating. I let him stay here ’cause he paid rent. But two nights ago, he went on a drinking binge and I haven’t seen him since. Rent’s due and I don’t have it.”

  I was getting a good lesson in diplomacy by watching Murray. She nodded, her face blank. “Do you know if Bernard has a friend named Rusty Jones?”

  Jolene snorted. “Yeah, he knows that creep. I told him no way was he letting that little pervert come around my kids. That guy’s crazy-eyed and I don’t want him in my house or anywhere near it.”

  Murray tossed a glance my way. So, we weren’t the only ones who had problems with Rusty. “Can you tell me why you think he’s such a creep?”

  “I’ll tell you why,” Jolene said. “I went over to his place last year with Bernard and I found pictures of naked women tied up. They were in his bathroom. I don’t want anybody like that near my kids.”

  “When’s the last time you saw Rusty?”

  “Mommy, Mommy, I’m hungry!” A little girl, no more than four years old, came running out of the bedroom. She was neatly dressed, though her clothes looked like hand-me-downs a step lower than out of a thrift shop, and her black hair was caught back in a ponytail.

  “I know, baby,” Jolene caught her up in her arms, settling her on her lap. “This is Destiny, my youngest daughter. I apologize—she don’t mean to interrupt. We just don’t have much in the kitchen and I got to watch what money I have.”

  I was struggling to avoid reaching in my purse for my wallet. Murray must have been thinking the same thing. “Mrs. Johnson, do you know about the Bread and Butter House?”

  Jolene looked puzzled. “No, what is it?”

  “Families can get a good meal there, and they give out food vouchers. Are you on AFDC?” She flipped a page in her notebook and jotted down the address, handing the paper to the woman.

  “No, ’cause I had Bernard living with me. They wouldn’t give us any money or food stamps. I usually get child support, but my ex-husband’s in jail and can’t pay none this month. My mother’s supposed to be sending me a check, but it hasn’t come yet.” She wiped a loose strand of hair away from her eyes and I could see the resignation and weariness eating away at her.

  Murray nodded. “I suggest you kick Bernard out so you can apply for food stamps and AFDC. If you go to the Bread and Butter House tonight before eight-thirty, you’ll be able to get a good meal for you and the children. If you don’t have a car, I can call them and they’ll bring food and a voucher to your house. Now, when was the last time you saw Rusty?”

  Tears in her eyes—looking grateful and relieved, Jolene bit her lip. She squinted. “I’d say end of March. That’s the last time Bernard took me over to where he was staying.”

  “And do you remember where that was?” Murray asked.

  “Oh, that one’s easy,” Jolene said. “He was staying in a van out at Cadillac Bob’s.”

  BEFORE WE LEFT, I asked if I could get a drink of water. While I was in the kitchen, I slipped a twenty out of my purse and folded it, sliding it into a clean mug that was sitting on the counter.

  Back in the car, Murray let out a huge sigh. “God, sometimes I hate my job. I see this time and again. It’s no different in Chiqetaw than in any other city or town. People too poor to eat, women with a handful of children who never managed to get their high school diploma, let alone a college e
ducation. Guys skipping out when they don’t want to deal with the children they fathered. It’s enough to make me cry.”

  I nodded, adjusting my mirrors and fastening my seat-belt. “Yeah. To be honest, I left a twenty in her kitchen. I can’t stand to see kids go hungry.”

  Mur gave me a wide grin. “I left one on the coffee table when you were in the kitchen. Well, at least they’ll eat for a few days. I didn’t see any sign of booze or neglect—the Johnsons are just a poor family struggling to make ends meet. I’ll call the Bread and Butter House when we’re through and make certain Jolene got in touch with them. If not, I’ll ask them to go out and check on her and the kids. They’ve got counselors there who can help her apply for the assistance she needs.”

  “Where to next? Cadillac Bob’s?” I asked, starting the ignition.

  “Ugh … yeah, that’s the next logical stop. Let’s go.”

  I eased the Mountaineer away from the curb. Cadillac Bob’s had to be the eighth wonder of the world, though definitely a man-made wonder. Bob Cappinalo was a fixture in Chiqetaw. He’d purchased a ten-acre plot just outside the town limits so the town didn’t have jurisdiction over him. He rented out space on the land to bus people, trailers, anybody with a tent who wanted to camp out for a bit. The county had slapped him with violation after violation, mostly health concerns. Each time, he cleaned up the mess just enough to squeak by a follow-up investigation. Until the next time.

  Cadillac Bob’s was on Ridge Rock Drive, a winding road that led out into the country past several old farms. Developers hadn’t discovered the Ridge Rock area yet, so the houses still retained an individual flavor, with wide old oaks towering in the front yards and natural ponds that still provided a haven for the geese who flew in every spring.

  Five miles down the road, a few yards past the borders of Chiqetaw, a driveway to the left led into Cadillac Bob’s. I turned onto the dirt drive, skirting the numerous potholes that dented the path leading up to the main house—a sprawling jungle of add-ons. Jimbo’s house had been a mansion compared to this place. The surrounding acreage was devoid of grass, probably from oil spills and the numerous vehicles passing through. Buses of every size and shape were scattered around the land, along with campers, a couple VW vans that looked directly out of some ’70s movie, and one RV that had seen better days. A dozen Cadillacs in varying stages of disrepair filled in the empty spots.