He only hesitated a second. “She asked me to. There was something wrong with one of the floor buffers. But when I got up there, I couldn’t find her. And the floor was cleaned, so I figured whatever it was, she got it worked out.” He cleared his throat. “I—uh, I called her back but she never did answer her phone, so…so I just left her a message and went home.” He rubbed his forehead, hard. “I thought I could hear her cell phone ringing, but it was really faint, you know, and I wasn’t sure. I wish I’d stayed, of course, and kept looking for her.”
“Did you tell the police all this?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And your lawyer?”
“Sure.”
I didn’t know what else to say to that, so I nodded and moved to step back into the bedroom. Then I said again, “Tony?”
He gave me a patient smile. “Yes?”
“Seriously. Why didn’t you sign the papers?”
“I told you. I made a vow.”
“I know, but no one would have blamed you for doing it anyway. The church would have given you an annulment, on the grounds of abandonment or something. Surely you wanted to, sometime during the last ten years.”
He was silent for long enough I was sure he wasn’t going to answer me. Finally he took a deep breath and said, “God kept telling me no.”
Again with the kept. He was stuck with me.
Most people would have gotten a different God.
I wanted to ask what that sounded like, how could he be so sure it was God talking to him and not just his conscience, the voice of an overly-strict nun in his past coming back to haunt him. How did he know for sure God kept telling him no? Instead I asked, “Did He say why?”
Tony kind of laughed. “Not specifically. He’s not always so anxious to justify His reasons to me. But it was something about giving you some time.”
Oh. I didn’t like the sound of that. That made it sound as if there was an actual marriage waiting for us on the other side of all of this.
I didn’t really know what to say about that, so I just nodded like it made perfect sense to me. Sure, I’ll bet that’s what it was. God says stuff like that to me all the time. “Okay, well, I’m going to take a nap, then.”
Tony cocked his head. “Your turn first.”
“Okay.”
“Why are you so sure I’m innocent?”
“I don’t really know. Are you innocent?”
“Yes, but you don’t really know that.”
“You’re not the type.”
“Anyone can become the type. You haven’t seen me in ten years. Anyone can be capable of rage and violence, if they’re passionate enough about something.”
I didn’t want to think about him being passionate about Lucinda Cruz, so I said, “You sound like you’re trying to convince me of your guilt. Maybe God talked to me, too. Maybe He told me you were innocent, and I could make up for some of the rotten things I’ve done by helping you out.”
He actually laughed.
“What? If He talks to you He could talk to me.”
“Of course He could. But He wouldn’t tell you that you need to make up for anything. God’s into forgiveness and grace, not having people make up for whatever wrongs they’ve done.”
“I know that,” I said with a scowl, although obviously I wasn’t quite so sure. “But maybe He’s the one who told me to help you.”
“Well if He did, I’m grateful.”
“Really? I’d be hacked off, myself. A good practicing Catholic deserves a more competent advocate than I am.”
“See, that’s where you’ve got it wrong again. God likes to use the incompetent and under-qualified.”
“Then I’m right where I belong.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “And I need a nap. Wake me up before dinner time, please.”
I closed the door behind me, my head aching from all the different dramas going on around me. I was going to lie down and think it out, but instead I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up till I heard Stump whining. She’d wet her bed.
Chapter Twelve
I was washing Stump’s towel out in the bathroom sink when I heard Viv’s voice. Ordinarily I would have been glad to see her, but at the moment I wasn’t glad of much of anything. I ached all over. My neck felt like someone had run over it a few times with a car, and the bruise on my stomach was green and purple. Plus, for some reason every bone in my body ached. I supposed it was from the stress or something, but whatever it was, it felt like I was coming off a five-day binge.
Viv poked her head around the bathroom door. “You decent?”
“As I ever am,” I said, wringing out the towel. “What’s going on?”
“Just checking to see how you’re doing.”
“Let me know when you find out, would you?”
Tony rapped on the door. “Salem, I need to go and check on a job. It’ll take a little while. Will you be okay?”
I nodded, although I’ll admit it was a little pathetically. “I’ll be fine.”
“Dinner’s in the oven, I’m keeping it warm for you. Help yourself to anything else you need.”
“Thanks, Tony,” I said.
As soon as he was out the door Viv whispered, “I found a little more information for us to work with.”
“You did?”
She flipped open a little spiral notebook. “Yes. Our suspect’s alibi is his job in Oklahoma City. His boss vouched for him.”
“Oh yeah, I knew that.” I scooched Stump around a little, trying to make her more comfortable. She looked up at me with big, sorrowful brown eyes.
“You what? Hello? Were you going to share that information with your partner?”
“Hello?” I mimicked. “Yes, I was, but then I got a little sidetracked by being attacked and beaten up.”
“How did you find out?”
“I called Sylvia last night and asked her. How did you?”
“I went to her shop this afternoon. She was really grumpy, too.”
“Did she happen to say what kind of work he did? I forgot to ask.”
“He sells water filters. Evidently he signed some big contract for some business the day Lucinda was killed. Couldn’t possibly have been anywhere near here.”
I sighed. “Unless, of course, his boss is lying.”
She sat on the toilet, crossed one leg over the other and swung her foot. “Listen, Salem, maybe it’s time to give up on the Rey angle.”
“But I don’t want to. I want him to be guilty.”
“That would be fine with me. But if he’s innocent, he’s innocent.”
“He has never been innocent.” I groaned and stood. “My whole body hurts.”
“You look awful. Your neck is green.”
“Thanks.”
She looked around the bathroom. “This is a nice place. You sure you don’t want to be married to this guy? He’s pretty hot. And he cooks.” She sing-songed, “He has nice stu-uff.”
“I know.” The thing was, I wasn’t sure if I was sure or not. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Living on my own wasn’t exactly going so great for me, what with being broke all the time and my car breaking down and people breaking into my house. But marriage…sheesh. I was even worse at that than I was at being single. “I don’t know if I have much of a choice,” was all I said. I mean, if God was telling Tony not to divorce me, and he was adamant about being obedient, then what chance did I have?
The thought made me feel a little trapped and lightheaded. I needed to get out of there before I hyperventilated. I picked up Stump’s box and carried her to the bedroom and opened the window.
Tony’s backyard was even prettier than his front yard. Three big Spanish Oak trees spread a green canopy over even greener grass. It’s not easy finding shade in West Texas, but Tony had a haven out there. Flagstone lined a broad patio and a walk that curved through the grass to the back gate. If I didn’t know better I’d think I was in Connecticut or something. I supposed. Never having seen Connecticut outside of television
. I rested my elbows on the windowsill and wondered what it would be like to actually live in a place like this.
“You know,” Viv said, “If Tony ends up going to prison he’d want someone to look after his stuff. And you are his wife. So this could work out okay for you.”
I knew she was just kidding, but it smacked with a little too much reality for me. “Just hush,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about my marriage.”
She sat on the edge of the bed. “Then let’s get back to suspects. Who else do you not like? Maybe we could find a way to pin this on them.”
“Too bad it’s not that easy.” I sat on the bed and leaned over to scratch Stump’s ears. She was coming out of her stupor and I wondered if I should give her a pill to put her back in. “So if it’s not Tony and it’s not Rey, who could it be?”
“You know what Columbo would do?”
“Something smart, I’m sure.”
“He’d go back and talk to the same people he already talked to.”
I thought about that for a second. If either of us talked to Sylvia again she’d slap us both. I didn’t want to go back to Rick Barlow’s place, not without some kind of protection. So who did that leave? “Remember that girl Stephanie, from the funeral?”
“I was just thinking about her!” Viv slapped her knee. “That’s got to be a God thing, or women’s intuition.”
“Or the path of least resistance.” I stood and looked down at Stump. “Are you going to be good while I’m gone?”
She thumped her tail a couple times. I had no idea what that meant.
I looked at Viv. “Do you think we should take her with us?”
Viv shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“You are so much easier than G-Ma.”
“I’m easier than everybody. Where are we going?”
I thought for a second. “Probably Columbo would have gotten a phone number or address.”
“Probably your husband has his employees’ numbers around here somewhere.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go snooping through Tony’s stuff?”
“No, I want to see what kind of cook he is. Then I want to go snooping through his stuff.”
You know those people who can’t eat when they’re stressed out? I’m so not one of those people. Food sounded like the best idea I’d heard in a while, and if I knew Tony, whatever he had would be hot, full of cheese and meat and probably sour cream – the real thing – and the very definition of comfort food.
“Let’s go.”
Stump whined when I walked out of the room so I went back and carried her into the kitchen with us. The aroma of whatever Tony had cooked lingered in the air and my stomach growled.
I eyed the kitchen table, a really cute little built-in bench and table setup. A banquette, that was what that was called. I’d seen it on HGTV. I slid Stump’s box onto the table. She sniffed the air and whined.
“Settle down, girl,” Viv said, patting Stump’s head. “You can have some, too.”
I kept my mouth shut and opened the oven. The dish inside looked so good I very nearly took the Lord’s name in vain. I settled for a breathy “Oh my.”
Viv appeared at my shoulder. “We need plates and forks, ASAP.”
“Forget the plates,” I said, grabbing a potholder off the counter. “And at this point forks aren’t necessarily a deal breaker.”
I slid the casserole dish onto the island and rummaged through drawers till I found the silverware. I handed a fork to Viv and dug in.
It came away covered in cheese and some kind of white sauce. I knew it would have sour cream! It was all I could do to blow on it before I shoved it in my mouth.
I had to hold back tears, it was so good. Chunks of white meat chicken, creamy just-spicy-enough sauce, thick gooey cheese, layered with soft corn tortillas.
Viv made a noise but I was too engrossed to ask if it meant if it was good or bad. Hopefully she didn’t like it. That would mean more for me.
No such luck. She hooked her foot around the rung of a stool, scooted it under her bony butt, and settled in.
Eventually I became aware that Stump was whining again, rather insistently. Her nose stuck out above the edge of the box, sniffing wildly. I felt kind of bad, but not bad enough to slow down. Two more bites, I promised myself. Then I’d get her a little.
She grunted and flopped around in the box, trying to get up.
“Oh, okay,” I said, my mouth still half full. “Don’t mess your leg up.” I fished through cabinets and drawers until I found a plastic bowl and scooped some of the enchiladas into it, blowing on them to cool them off. She whined and danced around as best she could with her poor little broken leg.
“I want you to know I’m giving you this against the express wishes of your physician.”
She didn’t care any more than I thought she would. She dove headfirst into the bowl and didn’t come up for air.
I reached down and gingerly felt her bandaged leg. She growled, her face still buried in the bowl. I didn’t know if my touch hurt her leg or if she simply wanted my hands away from any proximity to her food. Either way, I drew my hand back out and left her to her work.
“If you don’t want to be married to this guy, I do,” Viv said, as she slid the casserole dish away and leaned back on her stool, hands on her stomach, and groaned. “Oh, I’m going to need some Tums real soon.”
Viv rummaged through the bathroom for antacid while I searched for an address book. He’d left a note on the table with his cell number on it. I could call him and ask if Stephanie was working that night and if so, where. If I did, he’d want to know why I wanted to talk to her, and then he’d tell me I should just stay out of things and let the police handle it. Where was the fun in that?
I found in my search that Tony was still as compulsively neat as ever. There was one change of clothes in the hamper in his closet. He had a lot of nonfiction books and biographies of people I’d never heard of. He liked jazz music. And somewhere along the way he’d switched from briefs to boxers.
“Why are you looking in there?” Viv said a little too suddenly behind me.
I slammed the drawer and hit my thumb. I stuck it in my mouth. “Some people keep stuff in their drawers.”
“Yes, like their underwear. See, you do still want to be married to this guy. Let’s check the computer in the second bedroom. It’s on, so we wouldn’t even have to figure out his password.”
She took off down the hallway.
“I don’t know, Viv,” I said. “That seems a little intrusive.”
“Since that’s coming from the girl who was just digging through his underwear drawer, I’m going to ignore it.” She slid into the chair behind the computer and grabbed the mouse. “You’re just a technophobe. Don’t worry, it’s not going to blow up on us or sound an alarm or anything.”
She was right. I was a technophobe. I barely knew how to work my cell phone, and most of the time it didn’t work anyway because I kept forgetting to charge it. I pulled up a chair and sat behind her. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything. If I can’t dig around and find something, we’ll do a search on her name.”
She clicked on a few things and different screens popped up. Not having any clue what I was doing, I just sat back and watched, my mind mulling over the possibility of actually living in this house. This neighborhood had Trailertopia beat all kinds of ways. It would be nice to have someone steady to come home to every night. It would be nice to have someone besides Frank, looking for a free dinner. Someone to help me out when things went south. Someone to talk to, have conversations with, laugh with. To have someone to share a life with.
I looked around the neat home office, wondering if, when this was all over, Tony would ask me to move in. He didn’t act as if my very presence repulsed him. In fact, I think a part of him still cared for me, beyond a normal concern for my welfare that most people would have for someone they’d once been married to.
What did I feel for
him, though? What did I feel besides a lot of guilt over the way I’d treated him in the past, and guilt in knowing that if we were still married I’d been disgustingly unfaithful to him, I had a lot of admiration for him as a person. Tony was a stand-up guy, solid and dependable, rooted in his values. Did I know anyone else like that? Well, there was Les. Les was like that, and irritatingly cheerful, besides. But Les was also twice my age and in love with his wife – not a good marriage candidate for me.
Marriage candidate – sheesh, get a load of me, sizing up the qualifications of my own husband. I blinked and felt a little dizzy. Husband.
The thing was, yes, I had been sober for a while. A hundred and what…fifty-two days? In a lot of ways I was doing really good, but in other ways, I felt like I was hanging on by my fingernails. I would definitely have headed straight to the bar after seeing Trisha the other day, if God hadn’t intervened and made my car explode. How would I react to the pressure of being married?
Just thinking about it made me nauseated. Of course, that could be due to my overindulgence in chicken enchiladas. Still, there was no question that if Tony and I lived as a real man and wife, I would completely freak out and start to over-think every little thing I said and did. I’d obsess about details and then I’d get irritated with Tony for being so calm all the time, and then I would pick fights with him and use that as an excuse to drink. Possibly.
So, maybe Trailertopia wasn’t such a bad place after all, as soon as I could feel reasonably certain no one was going to break in and chop my head off or anything.
I thought I ought to pray about it, but I was afraid to. After all, God hadn’t exactly been speaking volumes to me like He was other people. It would be just my luck that He’d choose this moment to speak, to tell me I had made a vow to Tony and my duty as a wife was to get myself back with him and be the best wife I could be. I wasn’t a big theologian, but I thought God was pretty big on husbands and wives being together.
“Honey, you do want to be married to this guy,” Viv said. She pointed to some numbers on the screen. “Here’s his profit and loss statement from last year.”
I didn’t really know what I was looking at, just numbers with a lot of zeroes. “Is that, umm…profit or loss?”
The Middle Finger of Fate (A Trailer Park Princess Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 22