Bury Me When I'm Dead

by Cheryl A Head

  “Wow. You really think a lot of yourself. Or maybe dating that Black woman has made you crass.”

  Mandy considered dousing the woman with her drink, but thought it a waste of fine liquor.

  “Why don’t you let me pick up the check tonight? And you can go get your boat and shove it up the river,” Mandy said.

  Missy slid out of the dining booth ungracefully. She paused as she got to her feet, tugging at her slacks to loosen them from her thighs. She called Mandy an unflattering name, and left the restaurant.

  I guess you would call that a missy fit. Mandy chuckled aloud. Too bad she was boring and a butthead. I could have used the sex. And on a boat too.

  A diner walked slowly by the booth in an attempt to catch Mandy’s eye. She ignored him and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her jeans. She’d listened to the message at least a dozen times: “I’m sorry. I should have told you about Franklin, and I was going to. All I can say is I was still trying to outrun my feelings. Franklin knows all about us. I told him. I guess I was still fighting my own . . . internalized homophobia. Please, Mandy. Let me make things right. I do love you. I need you in my life. I’m sure of that now. I’m not as brave as you. I hope you can forgive me for not telling you everything.”

  As if on cue, Mandy’s phone vibrated. It was Charlie. She hesitated. She should make her squirm on the hook a bit more before releasing her.

  “Hello.” Mandy tried an icy tone.

  “Mandy. I’m glad you answered. I’m back in town. Something’s happened with my mother. She’s missing. Some guys stole her purse while she was out shopping and now we can’t find her.”

  “Wait a minute. Your mother’s missing? Oh God, Charlie.”

  “I don’t know what to do. The police and the FBI are out looking for her but I just feel helpless.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.” Mandy called for the check, then left four twenty-dollar bills on the table for the server.

  Charlie, Don and Gil had arrived at Detroit Metropolitan Airport at eight-thirty. James had been extremely helpful in getting them last-minute seats on the full flight from Birmingham. James had a car waiting for Charlie when she de-planed that whisked her to Detroit police headquarters.

  Even before they left Birmingham, Agent Griggs continued tracking activity on Ernestine’s stolen credit card. First, at an ATM in downtown Detroit, later at a gas station and convenience store. James’ regional director had called the chief’s office and Ernestine’s case became a top priority for the Detroit police that night.

  Charlie was escorted to an office with a private bathroom, comfortable chair and a desk. From her perch she could see detectives on the phone, pictures of her mother being distributed to uniformed officers and a steady stream of regulars being moved in and out of the precinct for questioning. But watching the increased activity in the squad room only made Charlie more anxious.

  She stood up when Mandy arrived in the squad room. So did four detectives who leaped from their desks to ask her business. Charlie watched as she flashed her badge and one of the detectives pointed her in the right direction. They all watched as she crossed the room. Charlie and Mandy sank into each other’s arms and held on tightly. A few minutes later one of the detectives stopped by to report on the progress being made in the case.

  “We think we have the name of one of the kidnappers,” Detective Tompkins reported. “He ordered a pizza with your mother’s credit card.”

  “Kidnappers?” Charlie asked, drying her eyes.

  “Until we know otherwise, we’re treating this case as a kidnapping, I thought you knew that.”

  Tompkins looked toward Mandy for help.

  “It’s the proper procedure, Charlie. In an abduction case.”

  “I just never considered that. Mom is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s so I just thought . . .”

  “We know these guys took your mother. We’ve seen the video. They aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer,” Tompkins said. “But I’m betting they’re not violent.”

  “Why do you say that?” Mandy asked.

  “Well, this Jerry Mitchell character hasn’t run afoul of the law before. We have his address and his motor vehicle information.”

  “He’s the one you tracked from the pizza order?” Mandy asked.

  “That’s right. We don’t know who the other guy is, but we’re waiting for a search warrant so we can bust in Jerry’s door. It should be coming any minute.”

  “Can I go with you?” Charlie asked.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tompkins said, again looking for Mandy’s support on the decision.

  “Look. What if my mother is being held in that guy’s apartment? I’ve gotta be there.”

  Tompkins shook his head, about to stand firm on Metropolitan Detroit Police Department policies, when Mandy intervened. “Do you think I could speak with you a minute, in private, detective?”

  Tompkins looked at Charlie, who stared him down. “I don’t see why not, Officer Porter.”

  Tompkins closed the office door behind him while he and Mandy stood in the hallway to chat. Charlie grabbed her cell phone, hitting the button that would connect her to Don.

  “Glad you called. What’s up with your mother? Any word?”

  “They think they found the guy who ordered some pizza with her credit card. They’re waiting for a warrant so we can go to his place.”

  “We?”

  “I’m going with them, Don. I can’t just sit around here. I’m going crazy.”

  Don’s instinct was to recite police policy himself, but he decided not to argue. “You want me to come down?”

  “No, it’s okay. Mandy is here and she’s been a lot of help.”

  “Mandy? Mandy Porter?”

  “Yes. She’s a friend of mine.”

  “I didn’t realize you two were friends.”

  “We are, Don. Look, I gotta go.”

  “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear anything?”

  “I’ll call, if it’s not too late.”

  The next call was to Judy, who had already left three messages. Charlie filled Judy in on the latest.

  “Don’t you always say your mom is a tough cookie?” Judy reminded her.

  “She is. Even with the dementia, she’s still feisty and fearless.”

  “Well you just hold onto that thought, Charlie,” Judy demanded.

  Mandy opened the door, and stuck in her head. “Come on. They’ve got the warrant for the raid. We’re both going. We have to ride in a patrol car and we’ll have to stay in the car until they give the all clear.”

  “How did you finagle that?”

  “Professional courtesy.”

  Charlie followed Mandy through the squad room to the elevators. For a moment, she was distracted from thoughts of Ernestine. She’s wearing bangle ear rings, new jeans and a sleeveless, pink and red top. She wasn’t alone before I called.

  Mandy and Charlie stepped into the elevator with the patrol officer who would be their chauffeur. Mandy felt Charlie’s stare. “Don’t worry. We’ll find your mom.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Officer Porter. It was nice of you to drop what you were doing.”

  Jerry and Robert were jovial. They were driving back to the east side after successfully obtaining another four hundred dollars from a west side ATM. With the radio blasting T.I. and the pair sharing stories on how they planned to spend their bounty, Jerry didn’t notice the police car behind him until the lights and sirens flooded the SUV.

  “Damn man, were you speeding?” Robert asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. You got anything on you?”

  “Naw man, you?”

  “I think there might be a half bag of weed under your seat.”

  “What? Damn man. Okay, okay, they probably just stopping you for speeding, or a burned-out taillight, or some bullshit like that.”

  “Man, you think they know we stole that card?”

  “How
in hell they gonna know that? Just be cool.”

  The officer who approached Jerry’s window had his gun drawn, as did the officer cautiously moving along the SUV’s passenger side. Four other police cars had just arrived on the scene and lights and guns were pointed at the hapless Robert and Jerry.

  “Roll down your window, open your vehicle door from the outside and get out with your hands in front of you,” the first officer bellowed.

  “Let me see your hands,” shouted the second cop.

  The two stumbled from the car and followed orders to lay face down on the pavement. Officer two shined a flashlight through the passenger window, moving it across the floor, backseat and the cargo area.

  “She’s not in here,” he said to his partner.

  “Where is Mrs. Mack?” the first cop said, with his knee in Jerry’s back.

  “Who?” Jerry asked.

  “Ernestine Mack,” he said with menace in his voice.

  “I don’t know no damn Ernestine Mack,” Jerry said from his prone position.

  Robert lay very still as he was frisked. The policeman pulled out the ATM cash from his front pants pocket, and the stolen credit card from his jacket.

  “Where’d you get this credit card?” the officer shouted, waving the orange and white card with Ernestine’s name and photo.

  “Oh damn, the market lady,” Jerry moaned. “We don’t know where she is but she’s alright. Robert took her purse but we let her out of the car over by the freeway.”

  Robert’s right cheek was flat against the cold pavement, and his hands bound behind his back. With his left eye he gave Jerry a dirty glare.

  “You guys picked on the wrong lady, boys. If you don’t want to spend your youthful years in jail, you’ll take me to where you dropped her off and pray to God that no harm has come to her.”

  The two officers lifted the handcuffed Robert and Jerry up from the road and policemen on the scene gathered in small groups to discuss the unusual attention given to a stolen credit card. The entire block was clogged with flashing police vehicles, giving it the eerie feel of a science fiction movie. The two thieves protested as they were pushed into the backseat of the first patrol car.

  “Damn man, who was that bitch?” Jerry asked. “She must be somebody important.”

  “Why’d you roll over on me back there?” Robert countered.

  “Man, I didn’t roll on you. You wanted to take the credit for taking her purse, and I was just giving you your due.”

  Charlie and Mandy sat with distance between them in the patrol car’s backseat. They’d just arrived at the address on the warrant but there was some hold-up.

  Detective Tompkins ran up to the patrol car. “We found her!”

  “She’s not inside?” Mandy asked.

  “No. She’s in the hospital.”

  Tompkins replaced the patrolman in the driver’s seat and sped with lights and sirens to Harper Hospital. He filled Charlie in as they made the five-minute drive.

  “A foot patrolman found her. The two guys who stole her purse took officers to the place where they put your mother out of their vehicle, about five miles from Eastern Market.” Tompkins slowed the vehicle, did a quick check for oncoming traffic and blazed through a red light. “The guys said they pointed your mother toward downtown, so that’s where MPD started looking. They found her huddled in a storefront on Woodward with a couple of homeless men.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “The patrolman said when he tried to put your mother in the patrol car, she asked if he could give her a few more minutes to finish her interview with the men because she was going to write an article on Detroit’s homeless population.”

  “She’s okay,” Charlie said with a sigh and reached for Mandy’s outstretched hand.

  Chapter 34

  Dr. Nyala was young, perhaps in his late twenties, and had been on call when the police brought Ernestine to the emergency room. He’d examined her, and was now reviewing his notes with Charlie.

  “Mild hypothermia with symptoms of hypertension, increased heartbeat and some confusion,” Nyala said.

  “She’s been diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer’s so there are recurring signs of confusion,” Charlie noted.

  “Yes, your mother told me the same thing. But she was aware of her surroundings, remembered your phone number and was worried you’d be mad at her for losing her cell phone and keys. On the other hand, she couldn’t tell me where she’d been the last few hours,” the doctor said. “We’ll hold her overnight, keep her nice and warm and she should be able to go home tomorrow.”

  Mandy declined Charlie’s invitation to come with her into Ernestine’s room. “No. I appreciate the gesture, but you should have this moment alone with your mother. It’s not the time. I’ll wait out here.”

  Charlie stepped into Ernestine’s hospital room and paused at the door. Her mother looked small in the oversized bed. A sheet and a tan blanket were pulled up to her neck and tucked around her. A soft light illuminated her face which looked healthy and full of color.

  “She fell asleep a few minutes ago.”

  Charlie turned toward the voice and met the wide smile and sparkling green eyes of a middle-aged woman with bright blonde hair tied back with a bandana. She was propped up by two rows of pillows and wore a blue-green plaid robe that obviously came from home.

  “Were you speaking to me?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, it’s only the three of us, isn’t it? You must be Charlene.”

  “Why, yes.”

  “Your mother said you were coming and she tried to stay awake but I think she’s pretty tired. She had a harrowing day.”

  Katie Blankenship was married, the mother of two teenagers and a gregarious extrovert. She was scheduled for breast-reduction surgery the following morning. “I got tits the size of Cleveland,” Katie said, laughing. “I’d show you one, but we just met.”

  Charlie had to smile. “Maybe tomorrow. My mother told you what happened to her?”

  “What she told me was she wanted to go shopping with you but you weren’t around so she decided to go alone.”

  Charlie’s shoulders and spirit sagged.

  “Oh, she’s not mad at you. In fact, she was worried she might have disappointed you. She knows you’re concerned about her and the Alzheimer’s.”

  “It seems she told you a lot,” Charlie said.

  “Oh, I talk to everyone and usually people start talking back. I just have one of those faces, you know. I don’t necessarily like everyone I talk to, but I do like your mother.”

  “Thanks.” Charlie didn’t know what else to say to this stranger.

  “I doubt she’d mind if you wake her to let her know you’re here. She’d probably sleep better; you know?”

  Charlie stroked Ernestine’s face then looked over at Katie, who was making an overt effort not to eavesdrop. Charlie had to gently shake her mother’s arm before she opened her eyes.

  “So you made it back from Birmingham.”

  “I came home as soon as I heard what happened.”

  “It’s no big deal. It was kind of an adventure and nobody got hurt,” Ernestine said in her most macho manner. She gave a weak smile.

  “I’m so grateful you’re okay, Mom.”

  “Me too, honey. Those two young men weren’t very nice, stealing my stuff.” Ernestine’s eyes drifted to the bed covers. “But I met two other nice men, Eddie and Reginald.

  “Eddie and Reginald?”

  “Yes, they saw that I was cold and gave me some of their clothes to put on so I could stay warm.” She pointed to a clear plastic bag filled with homeless hand-me-downs. “They’ve had some marvelous adventures, Charlie.”

  “I bet they have. I’ll have to thank them for helping you.”

  “Yes, I’ve already invited them for dinner.”

  “Mom, I’m going to let you sleep now. The doctor said you could go home tomorrow and I’ll be here bright and early to pick you up, okay?”

  “Prom
ise?”

  “I promise.”

  Charlie smoothed the snug blanket, kissed her mother on the forehead and turned off the bedside lamp. She smiled at Katie as she passed her bed.

  “I want a look at those boobs tomorrow. Purely for comparative reasons, mind you.”

  “Oh, I make Pamela Anderson look like a waif,” Katie said.

  On the ride to her apartment, Charlie phoned Don, Judy and then Gloria to report her mother was okay.

  “Oh Miss Charlene. I’ve been praying so hard that everything would be well for Miss Ernestine. One thing is true, we only have one mama.”

  “Thank you for your prayers, Gloria, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Charlie had tried hard for almost twelve hours to squash emotions that had now surfaced and threatened to spill over. First her anger at herself for forgetting the shopping date with her mother; then her disapproval of Grant Freeman’s legacy of secrets and her distaste for the FBI’s callousness toward innocent bystanders; the realization that her own deceit might drive Mandy from her life; and the dread she felt when her mother was lost. It was three o’clock Sunday morning. For the second time in as many weeks, Charlie dumped her overnight bag inside the front door. The difference this time was she was going to take a hot bath and allow Mandy to see her cry.

  Chapter 35

  The Mack partners gathered in the conference room for a meeting that was part logistics check-in, and part support group. The Belle Isle meeting would take place in a few hours and nobody was confident things would turn out well. Charlie would soon pick up Joyce at the hotel she’d checked into late last night, then the two would be wired with microphones. Don would have a ringside seat on the island, and Gil’s role in the action was to stay at his computer, monitoring the live satellite feed generated by Agent Griggs in Birmingham. Judy assigned herself the task of chief worrier.

  FBI agents were already in place in a half-dozen hiding places around the Flynn Pavilion. Don would take up position at a lookout post atop the nearby band shell where, with binoculars, he would have a sweeping view of the entire area. Next to him would be an agent with a high-powered rifle, ready to respond. Charlie and Don would both be armed, Don with his trusty .38 revolver and Charlie with a nine-millimeter sub-compact pistol.