To Thine Own Self Be True

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To Thine Own Self Be True Page 11

by Judy Clemens


  Lucy tugged Tess up from the couch and Tess turned to wrap her arms around Bart’s neck. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Bart.”

  His face sure lit up at that.

  Nick shook Bart’s hand again, and we trooped out to the Civic, where Lenny had to brush the snow from the windshield.

  “One more stop,” I said. “Then we can go home.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You sure this is the place?” Nick peered out the passenger window.

  I tapped on the glass. “There’s the Mustang Bart mentioned. And the garage.” I pulled my gloves on. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  “You ain’t going yourself,” Lenny said.

  “Come on, Len. What do you think’s gonna happen?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. Either me or Nick come with you, or you don’t go.”

  Like he could stop me getting out my door and heading toward the house. But it was Christmas Eve. “Fine. You can flip for it.”

  I opened the door, shutting it quickly against the cold breeze, and started up the walk. A car door opened and closed behind me, but I didn’t look back.

  The doorbell at the top of three icy steps was a hazardous-looking contraption that might’ve electrocuted me if I’d touched it wrong. I banged on the door, instead, and Lenny stepped up beside me.

  “Lost the coin toss, huh?” I said.

  “Nah. Just told Nick I was coming. He didn’t argue too much.”

  “That’s because he knows I can handle a simple house call by myself.”

  Lenny grunted.

  I banged on the door again, and finally heard some footsteps. I straightened my backbone, not sure what to expect from what Jonathan Long and Bart had told me about Mary Detlor. But it was Tank who opened the door, and I gasped at the sewn-up wound traveling from his forehead, through his eyebrow, and across the bridge of his nose. There must’ve been two dozen stitches.

  “No charities,” he said. “Get lost.”

  Lenny stepped forward to put his considerable bulk over the threshold. Tank squinted, and a shiver of unease ran up my spine at the sight of the two of them matching up.

  “Come on, Len,” I said. “There’s nothing else for us here.”

  We had what we’d come for. We knew where Tank was. But I sure was curious about that cut on his face.

  Lenny met Tank’s eyes for a moment longer before stepping back. I was turning to go when someone called from inside.

  “Who is it, Matty? Ain’t you gonna ask ’em in?”

  I just had time to register the slurred, sultry voice before the woman appeared at Tank’s side. I tried not to gape at her, but Lenny’s feelings were broadcast loud and clear on his face. Besides the woman’s appearance—ratty to the point of slutty bag lady—the waves of alcohol radiating from her were almost enough to make me tipsy. A hideous tattoo of a devil molesting a naked woman covered most of her arm, which was bare to the strap of her filthy tank top, and tattooed black liner surrounded brown eyes that would’ve been beautiful had they not been bloodshot and watery.

  “Hey, big guy,” she said to Lenny.

  Lenny cleared his throat, but was saved from replying by Tank pushing the woman back with his arm. “It’s nobody for you, Mary.”

  She swayed against him and ducked under his arm, grinning slyly. “Nobody for you, either, ’less you like ’em big.” She said this last while looking at me, and a touch of scorn marked her voice.

  I wasn’t that big, really, but I guessed she was at least three inches shorter than my five-nine, and God, was she scrawny. The brown mess of split ends on her head looked ready to topple her over if Tank hadn’t held her upper arm.

  “We’re just looking for somebody’s house,” I said. “Sorry to bother you.”

  Tank looked at me. “Who are you, anyhow? You look familiar.”

  Shit. I didn’t want him running before the cops could get there.

  “Don’t know why I’d look familiar,” I said.

  He studied me some more, but finally shook his head. Either he had a bad memory or he’d been sharing Mary’s liquor. Or he’d been so mad at Wolf Ink he hadn’t even noticed I was there.

  “Come on, hon,” Mary said to Lenny. “Why don’t you come in, have some of the sweet Christmas pie I made just for tonight. I make a mean pie, don’t I, Matty, baby? Bet I could win a blue ribbon if I entered a contest.” She swiveled her shoulders, making me wonder if she was talking about an actual pie or something else altogether.

  Lenny turned a bit green, but I guess it could’ve been the light shining through the doorway.

  “We really have to get going,” I said. “But thanks for the invitation.”

  She turned to me. “I didn’t invite you.”

  How true.

  Lenny and I picked our way down the steps, trying not to slip on the unsalted cement.

  “Wait a minute,” Tank said. “I know who you are. You got a tattoo at Wolf’s place.”

  Crap.

  I turned around, pasting a look of innocence on my face. “We were there at the same time?”

  “Couple days ago,” he said. “Monday.”

  “Sorry. I must’ve been zoned out.”

  His nose twitched. “Jackass Wolf wouldn’t do me that day. I wanted to have it done for Christmas.”

  “He was all booked up?” I tried to sound sympathetic.

  Tank snarled and shook his head. “I’ll go back. He’ll do me then for sure.”

  Sounded like a threat to me, but I was confused. Tank talked like Wolf wasn’t missing. I considered whether or not I should say anything, but figured if he really hadn’t killed Mandy he was too stupid to realize he’d be a suspect.

  “You haven’t heard?” I asked.

  His eyes were blank. “Heard what?”

  “Wolf’s missing. And Mandy’s dead.”

  He stared at me. “You shittin’ me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, goddamn. I guess somebody got to them before I could.”

  Lenny made a sound beside me, and I stepped forward, cutting off whatever approach he was going to make.

  “You didn’t know?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise from my voice.

  He shrugged. “I been holed up here since Monday, with this and all.” He pointed to his stitches. “Had a helluva headache. And I don’t watch no TV that has news.”

  Lovely. I tried not to imagine what kind of shows he favored.

  “So who done it?” he asked. “And where’s Wolf?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He smiled nastily down at Mary, whose attention seemed to have left us and gone to some unfocused space in her front yard.

  “Bet it has something to do with Wolf’s other chick,” Tank said.

  I sucked in my breath. “What?”

  “Like he was a saint. Oh, no, Wolf never does nothing wrong.”

  I took another step forward. “Who is she? What’s her name?”

  He made a face at that, like how was he to know? “Don’t ask me. Just saw her one time with Wolf, at the Bay Pony Inn. Took Mary here out for her birthday, and wouldn’t you know, there he was with this other broad, candlelight dinner and all.”

  I glanced at Mary, thinking there was no way she would ever fit in at a posh restaurant like that.

  Tank followed my gaze. “She cleans up good when she ain’t hammered.”

  I pulled my eyes from Mary. “This other woman. You never saw her before?”

  “Why would I have? It’s not like me and Wolf run together.”

  My frustration mounted. “You can’t tell me anything about her?”

  “Well, I didn’t say that. Because yeah, there was one thing that stood out.”

  “And what was that?”

  He touched his cheek. “She had a tattoo here. Of a butterfly.”

  The cold in the night air was suddenly warm compared to the ice in my chest.

&
nbsp; “What?” Lenny said quietly. “You know her?”

  I swallowed. “Let’s go, Lenny. Now.”

  We turned to walk away, and Lenny grabbed my arm as I stumbled toward the car.

  “You never did say what charity you were with,” Tank called after us.

  Lenny glanced at me, questions lighting up his face.

  “Benevolence fund,” I said over my shoulder. “For the cops.”

  I didn’t have to turn around to know what Tank thought of that.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nick’s cell phone was the closest one at hand, but I couldn’t see calling Shisler with Tess hanging onto every word. Even if she did appear to be in a stupor. Besides, I wasn’t sure I was ready to share about Wolf’s “other woman” with anyone but the detective. No matter what Tank had seen, I wanted to give Jewel Spurgeon, along with the butterfly on her cheek, a chance to tell me why she was on a candlelit date with Wolf.

  Tess revived by the time we reached the farm, and beat us all into the house. When I stepped inside, she thrust a bulky Christmas stocking into my hands before turning to Nick and pushing one into his.

  “For me?” Nick asked.

  Lucy opened the closet to hang up her coat. “Can’t have anyone without a stocking on Christmas Eve, can we?”

  Nick’s eyes shot to Tess. “But won’t Santa wonder where the stockings are, if they’re not hanging by the fireplace tonight?”

  Tess giggled. “Santa’s not real.” Her eyes went wide. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

  I looked at Nick. “I’m afraid you just burst his Christmas bubble, Tess.”

  “Not really,” Nick said, ruffling Tess’ hair. “I’ve known since I was at least twelve that Santa came in the guise of my mother.”

  I cleared my throat. “Before we dive into these wonderful stockings, can I make a phone call?”

  Lucy glanced at me. “The detective?”

  “I want to tell her where to find the lovely Mr. Snyder.” And tell her the bombshell he’d dropped.

  I gestured toward the fireplace. “Why don’t the rest of you get a fire going?”

  Lucy nodded. “I’ll find some newspaper, if there’s any left that hasn’t been recycled.”

  I hesitated. “Can you see if anybody’s dropped some off in the past few days? I wouldn’t mind seeing them, since we don’t get our own.”

  I remembered the paper at Gentleman John’s Tattoos with its headline asking, “Has Anyone Seen This Man?”

  She nodded with understanding. “I’ll check.”

  I went to the kitchen phone, Lenny’s eyes following me with curiosity, and punched in Shisler’s number. She answered after the usual one ring.

  “Stella?”

  “It’s me. I’ve got some news.” I told her about Tank, and where I found him.

  “Good work, Stella. Thank you. Anything else?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her about Jewel. I was planning on telling her. I really was. But when it came down to it, my voice refused to work.

  “Stella?” Shisler said.

  “No,” I said. “Nothing else.”

  “You sure?”

  “Except Tank’s got a huge gash on his face. Stitched up, but it looks awful.”

  “Hmm. We’ll check him out. I’ll send somebody right away to secure him. Again, good work.”

  I said good-bye and hung up before she could wish me a Merry Christmas. It was already a struggle on Christmas Eve.

  I felt guilty as hell for not telling her about Jewel, but I wanted to talk to Jewel myself before blowing up trouble for her. I took a deep breath and went into the living room, where I found Lucy lighting the fire and the others sitting on the floor playing Uno.

  Tess jumped up. “Are you ready?”

  “Sure,” I said. Somehow I managed a smile.

  Lucy tossed a paper onto my lap. “This is the only one I could find about the Moores.”

  It was the same one I’d seen at Gentleman John’s. I skimmed it, and it was really just a run-down of everything I already knew. Oh well. Lenny settled himself on a chair behind Lucy and rested his hands on her shoulders while she snuggled between his knees. I sat on the couch, at the opposite end as Nick. He looked a question at me, and I shook my head. I certainly didn’t want to talk about my phone call or the visit to Mary Detlor’s house.

  “So why open stockings on Christmas Eve?” Nick asked Lucy, taking his eyes from me. “Why not Christmas Day?”

  Lucy shrugged. “We’ve always done it this way. We raised Tess to believe that while Santa is a fun part of Christmas, he doesn’t really come down our chimney and leave presents. Plus,” she said with a slight grin, “it’s another way to spread out the opening of gifts.”

  I watched her while she talked, and recognized the sadness flitting across her face. It had been two years, almost to the day, that her husband, Brad, had died. And no matter the wonderful man sitting with her tonight, she still missed the man who had been hers before. Seeing her grief reminded me of my own, something I’d been struggling with long before the situation with Wolf and Mandy. But I was determined to shove thoughts of Howie to the side, so as not to color the evening with my own sorrow. I knew Howie would have enjoyed Lucy and Tess, but since they came only because he was gone, he’d never known they existed.

  We took our time, opening one gift at a time, deciding who went first by various tests: shoe size, birthdays, alphabetical order of middle names. Lucy and Tess had filled my stocking with all sorts of treats, from a new container of Bag Balm for my chapped hands, to a decadent bar of dark chocolate with almonds.

  Nick’s stocking, bought and filled within the past day—and probably what Lucy and Tess had been smuggling inside just that afternoon—held gum and candy, as well as a brand new pack of Dutch Blitz playing cards. His face had lost some of the tentativeness of earlier in the evening at church, and he smiled brightly. I wasn’t sure I liked how good it felt to have him in my house.

  I glanced around the room at its occupants and couldn’t stop the warmth that seeped from my toes to my head. I missed Howie desperately, but knew also that I was lucky to be surrounded by these people. With a flash, I realized I even liked sharing my home. I’d always figured, ever since the August tornado took the garage and its accompanying apartment, that we’d rebuild it as it had been. That Lucy and Tess would move back out when it was ready. But now I wasn’t so sure. I was finding it somehow comforting to come inside and find Tess at the computer, or Lucy in the kitchen whipping up something to eat.

  I liked having someone to share the end of each day.

  Tess shrieked as she opened a present from Lenny and discovered it was a new Hello Kitty diary. I could only imagine the pre-teen ramblings that would soon grace its pages, and laughed to myself. Nick caught my eye, making my laugh stick in my throat. I hadn’t stuffed Nick’s stocking with any presents. I wouldn’t have known what to get him if I’d even attempted it. And while he had sneaked a couple of things into Tess’ stack, mine had held nothing from him.

  The floor was soon littered with scraps of wrapping paper and packaging, and I sat back into the sofa, my eyelids drooping. Tess’ face, while lighted with happiness, also betrayed signs of weariness. It was almost eleven-thirty, after all. Tess climbed onto Lenny’s lap, where she snuggled into the crook of his arm and twisted his beard around her fingers. When Lucy turned to watch them I again read sadness in her face, but also saw the newfound joy of Lenny, and what he represented.

  Lucy laid a hand on Tess’ leg. “Time for bed, sweetheart.”

  Tess wriggled deeper into Lenny’s lap.

  “Want me to carry you up?” Lenny asked.

  She nodded into his neck.

  “Okay, then, darlin’. Hang on.”

  Lucy stood while Lenny heaved himself out of the chair, Tess hanging around his neck.

  “You okay?” Lucy asked him.

  “You kidding? This little bitty th
ing?”

  She smiled. It was true that Tess could easily wrap up in one of Lenny’s shirts if the occasion warranted it. Lenny wasn’t straining a muscle to hold her, and the stairs would hardly offer a challenge.

  The three of them were soon gone upstairs, and Nick and I stared silently into the fire. We sat on the couch, the middle cushion separating us like a wall, and while my breathing stayed its normal speed, I heard every pulse in my veins.

  A loud crack from the fireplace brought my heart to my throat, and I scooted off the couch and began picking up the paper scraps, tossing them into the fire. Nick joined me, and we were almost done when the door to the stairs opened and Lenny and Lucy stepped out, Lenny heading toward the front door and closet.

  “She asleep already?” I asked Lucy.

  She laughed quietly. “Practically. But then I about am, too.” She met Lenny at the door, where he enveloped her in a hug. He let her go and took a step back into the room.

  “Nice to meet you, Nick,” he said. “Don’t know if I’ll see you tomorrow or not, but have a Merry Christmas.”

  Nick walked forward and clasped Lenny’s outstretched hand. “Same to you. You’ve got a nice lady to share it with.”

  Lenny smiled at Lucy, who returned the expression full-force.

  “That I do, Nick,” Lenny said. “That I do.” He kissed Lucy and opened the front door. “’Night, Stella.”

  “’Night. Careful on those roads.”

  “Always.” He shut the door quietly behind him.

  “Well,” Lucy said. “That’s it for me, too.”

  I picked up another handful of paper and flung it in the fire.

  “Thanks for all the presents,” Nick said. “And for having a stocking for me at all.”

  She stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome. We’re glad to have you here.” She walked past me and opened the stairwell door. “Goodnight, Stella.”

  I met her eyes, and although I’m sure she read desperation in mine, she smiled warmly and disappeared up the stairs, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  I continued throwing trash into the fire until there was none left to find. I stood and turned, only to discover Nick beside me.

 

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