One Step At A Time

by Brenda Adcock

  “I don’t owe you shit! I wasn’t a whore and wasn’t gonna let you turn me into one,” Maddie snapped.

  “We’ll see,” Bree smiled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s a shame really. I still remember that tight little pussy of yours. It would feel real good about now. And Aggie ain’t here to save your ass this time.” Her tongue swiped around her lips. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. What’s it gonna be, James? Either one works for me,” Bree said nonchalantly with a shrug before hiking her hip onto a stool with a smile.

  Maddie’s fist tightened around a large Phillips screwdriver and she flipped it over leaving the handle exposed.

  “Okey dokey,” Bree said. “The hard way then.” She looked at the men with her and said with a cold smile, “She’s mine, so don’t damage the goods...too much.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Maddie saw one of the men moving closer. When he was within range, she swung the screwdriver handle and caught him on the jaw. A second man grabbed her and tried to wrestle the screwdriver away from her. She managed to pull it up, then released it as he jerked it down. The point drove into his upper thigh. He screamed and fell to the floor, bleeding badly.

  “Well, so much for the beginners,” Bree huffed. “Doncha hate weak men who think women are as weak as they are?” she asked conversationally.

  Maddie turned quickly to face the last man, but wasn’t fast enough to dodge a fist aimed at her abdomen. The hit doubled her over. The man stopped advancing toward her and she managed to catch a breath and stand.

  “Give it up,” he rumbled.

  “She won’t,” Bree said casually, examining her fingernails.

  While Maddie was preparing herself for round two, something struck the back of her head. She pitched forward, wrapping her hands around the area where she’d been hit. She curled her body up tightly waiting for the pain to pass and the synapses in her brain to begin working again. The last thing she vaguely remembered was a glancing blow to her face by a solid fist.

  “Take your friends and I’ll meet y’all back at the bar in about an hour or so,” Bree said. Sure they were gone, she knelt next to Maddie and took her chin between her thumb and index finger, shaking it back and forth. “Don’t worry, sugar. I won’t do anything until I know you can feel everythin’ I’m gonna do to you, bitch.”

  Then Maddie felt her work coveralls being unzipped and her legs being shoved apart as Bree pushed her hand toward Maddie’s crotch.

  “No-o-o-o,” Maddie groaned before her body jerked and she sank into darkness.

  MADDIE AWAKENED, HER head thudding dully, lying on the old cracked couch in Oscar’s office and covered by a scratchy wool blanket. She slowly opened one eye and found Crew sitting behind Melendez’s desk, reading and drinking a cup of coffee. She grunted as she tried to sit up.

  “Finally awake, huh?” Crew asked.

  “What time is it?” Maddie managed.

  “Found you around seven. Thought I was gonna have to call the paramedics.”

  “What happened?” Maddie asked, shaking her head and wishing she hadn’t.

  “Looks like a half-assed attempt at a burglary. Prob’ly kids. We’re missin’ a few tools, but somethin’ musta scared ’em away. You finish that car you was workin’ on?”

  “Almost. Needs new plugs.”

  “Take the day off and clean house or somethin’. We’ll survive without you. I’ll explain it to the boss and finish that car for ya. Need a ride home?”

  “I can walk. It’s not far.”

  “Well, if you get to feelin’ bad, call your girlfriend or—” Crew started.

  “Ain’t got no fuckin’ girlfriend,” Maddie managed to growl.

  “Then get Flo or Sal to haul your ass to the hospital and let a doc check out that knot on your head.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she said as she stood and wobbled around for a moment before she placed one foot in front of the other and concentrated on moving forward. After walking the two blocks to Flo’s, Maddie wasn’t sure what had happened, but didn’t think Bree had done what she had planned, but didn’t know why. She didn’t remember anything after being clocked on the jaw. She took a long, hot shower and collapsed onto her bed, naked.

  Chapter Nine

  A SCRUFFY-LOOKING middle-aged man, covered by an old rain poncho and a droopy wide-brimmed hat wandered down an alleyway between a local furniture store and a second-hand appliance store. He poked through piles of debris with the long wooden handle from a discarded broom that he was using as a walking stick, looking for a new box to call home, at least for one night. It had rained off and on over the past three days and the boxes he’d already found were either too wet or not tall enough for him to stretch out in. He scratched at the beard that covered the lower part of his face and looked around the alley. Pretty slim pickin’s, he thought until his eyes landed on an intact refrigerator box stuffed with the plastic the refrigerator had probably been wrapped in. If the plastic sheeting was large enough, he might be able to cover the box enough to stay reasonably dry.

  He dragged the box off a pile of other broken down boxes and had it half folded back into its original shape when he noticed the corner of an oil-stained, heavy-duty blue tarp sticking from a stack of bulging garbage bags. The tarp had metal eyelets he could use to tie it securely around his new home. If nothing else, it might become a new poncho to protect him from the rain. But whatever was in the garbage bags was heavy and prevented him from pulling the tarp free. Finally, he grabbed a bag and slung it off the tarp, followed by three additional bags. At last he grabbed the edge of the tarp and jerked it with all his strength. It moved a little. Confidant that his efforts were paying off at last, he set his feet and tugged at the tarp. Suddenly whatever was holding it in place released its grip and something inside the tarp rolled free as he pulled it across the alley. He turned triumphantly to gaze down at the bloody, beaten body of a woman, her skirt pushed up around her chunky buttocks. He spotted a purse lying next to the body and reached down to grab it, finding a few dollars in cash and a credit card. He quickly stuffed the credit card and cash into his pocket and tossed the purse back near the body. He didn’t want to get involved with the police, and chose to abandon the box, walking to a pay phone a block away to dial the 9-1-1 operator, and split, long gone before the first police car arrived on the scene.

  Within an hour, the alley was swarming with police officers, detectives, and forensic investigators. They searched the alley and went through the victim’s clothing, searching for anything that might give them a clue to her identity. Detectives Bart Nolan and Jorge Suarez, arrived on the scene not long after lunch. Nolan hadn’t been happy when they had been called away from their meal because their names were at the top of the call-out list. He had gulped down the remainder of his pot roast and mashed potato dinner, smothered in gravy too quickly and wished he had a shot of Pepto to settle his roiling stomach. He looked at his partner and expelled a healthy belch.

  “Feel better now?” Suarez grinned.

  “Remind me not to get the pot roast next time,” Nolan complained. “Didn’t taste any better the second time around.”

  “I told you to get the burger, man. That joint isn’t called a greasy spoon for nothin’, you know,” Suarez chuckled.

  “Hey!” Nolan called out to a nearby officer. “When did the Medical Examiner take the body?”

  “’Bout half an hour ago. Sistrunk was afraid it would start rainin’ again and didn’t want it to wash away anything useful,” the officer responded. “How much longer, Detective?” he asked.

  “Got a hot date or somethin’?” Nolan asked.

  “Prob’ly just some junkie who had a disagreement with her dealer or a pro holdin’ out on her pimp,” the officer muttered.

  “Prob’ly right. Now look for somethin’ to support either of those theories,” Nolan called out. “Is there a list somewhere of everything the forensics guys collected?” he asked.
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  “At the lab,” the officer said.

  “Tomorrow let’s pay a visit to the ME and the lab first thing,” Nolan said. “We can’t do shit until we ID the vic and look over the lab reports anyway. Stop someplace on our way back to the house so I can pick up some Pepto, will ya?” he said, pressing his hand against his abdomen.

  Chapter Ten

  “HOMICIDE, NOLAN,” THE detective snapped as he grabbed the ringing phone on his desk.

  “Bart, it’s Natalie,” a woman’s voice said.

  Nolan smiled, remembering his best friend’s pretty wife. “How are you, Nat? How’re the kids doin’?”

  “We’re all pretty good, Bart. Have you talked to Oscar lately?” she asked.

  “Not for a while. Why? Is he okay?”

  “He’s lost his damn mind!” Natalie exclaimed. “Someone’s got to talk to him. The old fool won’t listen to me.”

  “What are you talkin’ about, Nat?”

  “He hired that woman and I can’t let Joel or Marissa near the shop as long as she’s there,” Natalie sniffed.

  “Calm down, sweetie. What woman?” Nolan asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “The one who killed Bryan!” Natalie said, frantically. “I was supposed to be notified when she had a parole hearing.”

  “Maddie James?” he asked.

  “Yes! I went to the shop to pick up Joel and she was there. I slapped her and dragged Joel out of there. I called Oscar later and he gave me some bullshit about her deserving a second chance. I reminded him that she didn’t give Bryan a second chance. He’s dead!” she cried. “Maybe he’ll listen to you, Bart. Please.”

  “I’ll stop by and talk to him, but I can’t promise he’ll listen. I’ll keep an eye on James, too. Felons like her always fuck up eventually, Nat. Try to take it easy, okay,” he said softly.

  “Thanks, Bart. I knew since you were Bryan’s best friend you’d understand,” Natalie said.

  The next day, Nolan begged off his usual lunch with Suarez and picked up a couple of Mexican lunches from a little mom-and-pop food truck he knew Oscar liked. On the drive to Oscar’s shop, he tried to organize his thoughts about how to best approach the retired probation officer. He knew Oscar could be a stubborn cuss, but hoped he’d realize how much his decision to hire Maddie James was affecting his family.

  He parked along the side of the small business and leaned into his car to pick up the two lunches. He opened the side door of the shop and strolled to Oscar’s office, taking in the shop’s interior, including the employees. He knew them all personally, except Maddie, because he’d made it his business to make sure none of them fucked up.

  He tapped on the office door as he looked around. When the door opened, Oscar smiled broadly and embraced Nolan, inviting him into the office.

  “Whatcha doing, Mr. Detective?” Oscar asked.

  Nolan pulled a Styrofoam container from a bag and set it on Oscar’s desk along with a plastic knife and fork. He sat down and took out a second container, pulling a chair closer to the desk. “Haven’t seen you in a while and Delgado’s sounded good,” Nolan shrugged.

  Oscar smiled and opened the small refrigerator behind him. “Corona or Dos Equis?” he asked.

  “I’m still on duty, but what the hell? Corona. Got any lime?” Nolan asked.

  “Not like you to ask stupid questions, Bart,” Oscar chuckled as he stuck a slice of lime into Nolan’s bottle. “So what brings you here, besides lunch?” he asked as he put the first bite of his enchilada meal into his mouth and chewed slowly.

  “Can’t I just stop by to see an old friend?”

  “Highly unlikely,” Oscar smiled.

  Nolan cleared his throat with a drink of his beer. “Actually, Oscar, Natalie called me yesterday and was pretty upset.”

  Oscar muttered what Nolan recognized as a string of Spanish expletives under his breath. “I’m sorry about that, Bart, but I’ll tell you exactly what I told her. This business isn’t hers and I don’t take orders from my daughter-in-law. I don’t have to consult her before I hire a new employee.”

  “But you knew who she was when you hired her, right?” Nolan asked.

  “Of course I did! I’m not as senile as Natalie believes,” Oscar retorted. “The woman served every fucking day of her sentence and never asked to be considered for early release. If Natalie has a problem with that, I suggest she take it up with Judge Whitaker who assigned her punishment. It’s not my job, yours, or hers to extend the sentence imposed by the court.”

  “So, how’s the angel doin’?” Nolan asked snidely.

  Oscar shrugged as he continued to eat. “Works hard, good mechanic, has only had one minor problem since being hired. Dependable employee.”

  “What minor problem?”

  “She got into a scuffle with Beau because he found a way to ‘accidentally’ put gas into her coffee. Both at fault. Beau pushed his luck and she over-reacted, so I had to punish them both,” Oscar explained. “They get along fine now. No big deal.”

  “She ever mouth off?”

  “They all do that occasionally, but it doesn’t mean nothing. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lean on them, Bart, and tell Natalie to back off.”

  “You know she won’t, Oscar, and I can’t say I blame her,” Nolan said.

  “She needs to find a way to move on. Bryan would hate how bitter she’s become,” Oscar noted.

  “She lost the love of her life, Oscar. The father of her children, for God’s sake!”

  “And I lost my only son, but there is no honor in not being able to forgive. My biggest fear is that Natalie will become a bitter, unhappy woman and make Joel and Marissa the same way,” Oscar said wearily.

  It was obvious that Nolan wouldn’t be able to convince Oscar he’d made a mistake and the conversation swung around to a general discussion about what was going on in the Wichita Falls Police Department. Nolan finished his lunch and glanced at his wristwatch. “Well, I better get back to work. It was good to see you again, Oscar,” he said.

  Oscar stood and offered his hand to Nolan. “Thanks for the meal, Bart. Tell Natalie you tried, but my decision hasn’t changed.”

  Nolan shook Oscar’s hand and nodded before walking out of the small office. He paused a moment, then wandered over to the bay where Maddie was working. Leaning closely over her shoulder, he asked, “Whatcha workin’ on?”

  “Looks suspiciously like a car to me,” she said.

  Nolan smacked her on the back of the head and growled, “It was a simple question and didn’t require a smart-mouthed answer, smart-ass.”

  “Hey, James!” Beau hollered, “let me borrow your ratchet for a minute. Can’t find mine right now.”

  Maddie’s head jerked toward Beau and the fist gripping the ratchet in her hand relaxed as she tossed it to him.

  “Thanks, kid,” he said as he caught it.

  “No problem, chief. You’re welcome,” she said with a smile.

  “Whose vehicle is this?” Nolan prodded.

  “Oscar’s,” Maddie responded through clenched teeth.

  “I’ve known Oscar twenty years and have never seen this damn car,” Nolan needled.

  Maddie spun around and stood chest-to-chest with the big man, refusing to move an inch. “Then I guess you don’t know him as well as you claim, officer,” she said with a smirk. “Otherwise you’d know he bought it for his son.”

  Nolan brought his hands up and grabbed Maddie’s coveralls, jerking her up and even closer until they were nose-to-nose, glaring at one another. “I don’t have a fuckin’ problem with that. My fuckin’ problem is with you, smart-ass!” he hissed.

  “Hey!” usually quiet Freddie shouted, taking a step closer. “Let her go, man!”

  “Butt out!” Nolan snapped, still glaring at Maddie. “This ain’t your business.”

  The door to Oscar’s office flew open and Oscar stepped out, red-faced and angry. “What the fu
ck do you think you’re doing, Bart? Get your hands off my employee and get the hell out of here before I call a cop and press charges for assault!” he threatened.

  Still angry, Nolan roughly shoved Maddie away and into the car behind her. She stepped sideways and reached behind her to rub her back where it had struck the vehicle. She looked over her shoulder at Crew and said with a grin, “He called me a smart-ass twice, Crew. Do I get double credit for that?”

  “Prob’ly,” Crew grinned back with a thumb up.

  “Shut up!” Oscar and Nolan yelled simultaneously.

  STILL ANGRY, NOLAN stomped back into the squad room and dropped heavily into his rolling chair.

  “Bad lunch?” Suarez asked.

  “I’ve had better,” Nolan grumbled.

  “Well, this should cheer you up,” Suarez grinned as he floated a sheet of paper onto Nolan’s desk.

  Nolan snatched the paper up and glanced over it quickly. Finally, he nodded and said, “It’s a start. Anything else?”

  “She just got out on an early release from Sand Ridge about two months ago. Supposed to be in Houston, but missed her last couple of meetin’s with her parole officer. They’re lookin’ for her happy self.”

  “Got a number? I’ll let her PO know we found her,” Nolan said.

  FOLLOWING A LENGTHY conversation with Sabreena Douglas’s parole officer, Nolan grinned and muttered, “I gotcha now, bitch.” He pulled the paperwork for an arrest warrant out of his desk drawer and wrote in a list of his findings as part of his sworn affidavit before telling his partner he’d be out of the office for a few minutes. Two hours later Nolan brought a department-issued sedan to a stop in the parking area next to Oscar’s Auto Repair again, pushed his door open, and got out. He readjusted his pants, surveyed the area around the shop and took a deep breath. It hadn’t taken him long to convince the judge that he had substantial probable cause to place his suspect under arrest.