by M. Z. Kelly
Mojo’s dull eyes brightened to a cloudy haze. “Hey, I just had an idea. Maybe I could go undercover, pretend I’m a patient, and get the goods on this Raines guy.”
“You do look like somebody with a terminal illness,” Amy agreed. “Just don’t do anything that will get you killed.” She looked at me. “I think I’m gonna regret what I just said.”
There was another knock on our door. Max went over and let Kat into the apartment.
Mojo immediately went on alert, like a hound dog that had just spotted a poodle. “Here, take my seat,” he said, scooting over.
Amy scowled at him. “We’re finished with you. Get out and report back to me what you find out.”
After Mojo reluctantly vacated the premises, Kat took a seat and told us what was on her mind. “I got a call from Merrill this afternoon. I think he far away.”
“What does that mean?” Amy asked.
“The connection was not good, and there was lots of people talking in the background.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He say he is having some trouble and isn’t sure when he be home.”
“Trouble, as in porking dead bodies at a zombie convention,” Amy said, before swigging her beer.
“Uncle Lola still upset. He want me to have you guys find him and Darryl.”
Amy rolled her eyes and looked at Max and me. “I guess we’d better add it to our to-do list.” She looked back at Kat. “What’s the latest with your crazy aunt? Is she still shacking up with Frankenstein?”
We heard a deep voice behind us. “I not happy with what you say.”
We all looked over and saw that Dominika was standing in our doorway.
Amy rose and walked over to her. “Get out of here, you crazy bitch.”
Dominika stood her ground. “Why you not bald?”
“I went to the Hair Club for Curses. I said, get out.”
Dominika squinted as her dark eyes fixed on Amy. “I be needing a stronger potion.” She wagged a finger at her. “You going to regret this.”
Amy picked up her can of beer and splashed its contents on Dominika. “I hope it melts you, just like that wicked witch that Dorothy threw water on.”
Max sniffed the air. “You smell a skunk? I do.”
Dominika stomped off, screaming, “You will pay dearly for this!”
After she was gone, Kat said, “I hope my aunt doesn’t get too angry. She can be really mean.”
“You need to invite Ola back here,” Amy told her. “See if she can get me some more curse insurance. I got a feeling I’m gonna need it.”
“I see what I can do.” She stood. “I better go see if I can calm Aunt Dominika down.”
After she was gone, Amy drowned her sorrows with a couple more cans of Final Gulp, before the conversation turned to Christina Blaze. “I’m thinking we gotta do something to find her this weekend or she’s a goner, along with my fee.”
“Maybe we should go to Kingston on Sunday,” Max suggested, thinking about what I’d found in Benedict’s trash. She yawned. “If I get out of bed, that is.”
Amy looked at me. “You up for that, Mads?”
I smiled. “Max and me got the same issue. I’ll let you know.”
FIFTY
“What are you going to do now?” Christina asked.
“Shut up,” Aaron Benedict said. “I need time to think.”
Her captor paced around the room. They were in a sleazy motel room that he’d rented after killing Jeremy Halsey. Christina’s hands were tied behind her back as she huddled against the headboard of the bed.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Christina demanded. “Why did you kill Jeremy?”
Aaron raised his voice. “Because if he was caught, he would have talked and ruined everything.”
Christina gave voice to what she’d pieced together. “You and Jeremy were going to kill me and split my trust fund.”
Aaron came over and slapped her. “I told you to shut up.” He took a gag and pushed it into her mouth. He raised his voice again, yelling at her, “You have no idea what’s really going on!”
She watched as Aaron continued to pace around the room, knowing that he was deciding her fate. Her captor had to know that because of what happened at the bank, the money she had in her trust fund was now untouchable. The feds would have put a hold on the account until she was found, dead or alive.
Christina thought that Aaron was deciding how to kill her. Maybe he would shoot her and dump her in the woods somewhere. The thought of never seeing her mother or her friends again brought tears to her eyes. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to think about what was to follow.
“Get up.”
She opened her eyes and saw that Aaron was coming over to her. He untied her hands and removed her gag. “We’re going for a little ride. If you call out to anyone or make a scene, you die.”
As they moved toward the door, Aaron’s phone rang. He pushed her back down on the bed and answered the call.
After listening to the caller for a moment, his voice rose in anger. “I know it wasn’t the way things were supposed to go! What do you want me to do now?”
Christina watched as he listened to the response. She knew in that moment her fate was being decided.
“Okay, okay,” he finally said to the caller. “I’ll bring her to you, but you’ve got to make it worth my while.”
Aaron ended the call, came over, and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her off the bed.
“Where are we going?” Christina asked.
They stopped at the door for a moment as Aaron met her eyes and answered. “Maybe you should ask your mother.”
FIFTY-ONE
“I don’t get why we’re going shopping at a place called Slackers for tonight’s dates,” Max said the next day. We were on the sidewalk with Amy at a Brooklyn strip mall, where the store was located. “I’m probably not gonna be wearing very much for very long anyway.”
“Bragger,” Amy said, as we walked toward the store. “Some of us gotta pick out the right outfit for a haunting.”
“Maybe you should also pick out an outfit for a cursing,” I said, thinking about last night’s encounter with Dominika.
“You think she’s gonna try and turn me into a toad?”
“Or worse.”
“I wonder if I can find me a rubber outfit.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m thinking it would work like a condom and keep her crazy potions off my body.” Her blue eyes brightened. “Hey! Maybe I can get Ola to put a reverse whammy on Dominika before she tries to get me. I think I’ll ask her to turn her into a sloth. Those things are ugly, not to mention lazy.”
Max looked at me and raised an eyebrow as we stopped in front of Slackers. “You gotta admit, the girl’s always thinking.”
“I think I like this outfit,” Amy said, going over to a display in the store’s window. “It’s trendy, but kind of goth.”
Max and I went over to check out the display. It had a mannequin swathed in dark material and carrying a machete.
I said to Amy, “It’s perfect, if you’re planning on a zombie battle.”
Max spoke up. “Speaking of zombies, any word on the boys?”
Amy shook her head. “I think Merrill and Darryl have permanently gone over to the dark side. Maybe they’re living in a zombie commune somewhere.” She waved us into the store. “Come on. I’m sure we can find something to wear.”
We spent the next hour choosing outfits. Amy ended up with something that looked like it was made of aluminum foil and could attract signals from an alien civilization. Max and I were more conservative, each of us deciding on dresses that Amy later disapproved of over lunch in a nearby café.
“If you two wear those outfits tonight, you better get out of them as fast as you can or you’ll end up like Gloria Howser.”
“Who?” I said.
“She lived down the block from me in Trenton. She had a fourth date set up with a guy named
Robbie Boynton, and was planning on doing the stanky-panky with him. Robbie pulled up at the curb, took one look at her outfit, and kept on going. She never saw him again.”
“Maybe I’ll just wear a pair of pants and a blouse,” Max said.
Amy scowled at her. “You do that and you might as well tell Sonny to take it down the road. You need to step up your game.” She looked at me. “Same goes for you and Sam.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Maybe I should take my outfit back and get something that looks like it should be attached to the space station.”
“You making fun of my dress, Mads?”
“It is a little loud.”
“I’ve decided it’s time to be loud ‘n’ proud. Besides, if Chase really is a movie producer, maybe he can get me a part.”
Max’s features were flat as she said, “Now that she’s getting older, I hear they’re looking for a replacement for Sigourney Weaver.”
Amy tossed a fry at her. Max picked it up and ate it, as Amy sighed and said, “You guys probably think I’m desperate.”
“Maybe just a little,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’m sure things with Chase will go fine.”
“They better, or I’ll kick his ass from here to Mars.” She took a sip of her drink and changed the subject. “I’m still planning on going to Kingston tomorrow around noon. You guys in?”
Max shook her head. “I’m hoping to still be in bed. You and Madison can go ahead.”
Amy looked at me, raising her brows.
“From what I know, Kingston’s a big place. How you gonna find out anything about your client?”
“Edgar’s working on it. I’m hoping he has something by tomorrow.”
I groaned. Amy sometimes used a retired cop named Edgar Lemon to help with her cases. Lemon was a drunk who worked out of a bar in the East Village. He wasn’t one of my favorite people.
Amy went on. “Edgar ain’t that bad and he’s got a lot of sources.”
I sighed. “I’ll go with you, even if I have to kick Sam out of bed.”
Amy bit a knuckle. “Damn.”
***
I was a couple minutes late getting to Maestro’s that evening, after trying on three different dresses before finally settling on something I’d bought at Nordstrom’s a few months back. I met Sam in the lobby and apologized.
“Sorry, I had trouble making a decision on an outfit.” I brushed a hand over my black dress. “It was either this or something from Slackers that receives signals from outer space.”
Sam studied my outfit for a moment. “It looks like you definitely made the right choice.” He smiled. “I didn’t know they made dresses that received signals from space.”
I explained about Amy’s dress and glanced at my watch. “Right about now, she and a guy from GuySwatter should be chasing ghosts around Medford Park.”
“I hope she survives.”
We chatted about Amy’s date for a moment, and the maître d’ showed us to our table. After our drinks were served, I asked Sam about his day.
“Just catching up on a backlog of paperwork. Now that I have a new partner, we’re trying to prioritize our investigations.”
I knew that Sam had recently been partnered with a female agent. “How are things working out with you and...? I think you told me her name is Joanna.”
He nodded. “Joanna Kemp. She’s new and very motivated, so I think, in time, we’ll work well together. She still has a lot to learn.”
I pushed down a pang of jealousy and asked about the other thing that had been on my mind. “Anything new with Jeffers and Wallace?”
Our server came over. After we placed our orders and he left, Sam said, “Actually, we got a tip they may be in the Catskills.”
The wilderness recreation area wasn’t too far from Kingston, where Amy and I planned to go tomorrow. “Really? Any idea why they’re in that area?”
“First things first.” Sam raised his drink. “Here’s to a wonderful night.”
I clinked my wine glass against his. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”
We set our glasses down, and Sam’s expression grew more serious. “It could be that Jeffers and your...and Wallace are hiding out somewhere. The area has a lot of vacation homes, places off the grid. It might even be that they’re planning more burglaries in the area.”
“Any clues as to where they might actually be? I know the Catskills covers a lot of territory.”
“We just got a hit from a local on the partial plate from the car that was used in the New Haven killing. It was spotted in the town of Windham. We put the locals on alert, so we’ll see if anything develops.”
I told him about my plans to go to Kingston with Amy tomorrow. “It’s funny, but I always feel like I’m one step behind my mom, if Donna Wallace is, in fact, her.”
He nodded. “Don’t give up. Something will eventually break. You actually think Christina Blaze and this Benedict guy could be in Kingston?”
“It’s a long shot, but Amy wants to check it out.”
He smiled. “I imagine she isn’t someone who takes ‘no’ for an answer lightly.”
“I just hope she meets someone nice soon. She’s having a difficult time adjusting to the single life.”
“I can understand.”
What he said surprised me. “Was it difficult for you? I mean, after your divorce?”
Sam inhaled and released his breath slowly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and I guess tonight is as good a time as any.”
I nodded, realizing that I was holding my breath.
“My ex and I, we’re...we’re not actually divorced.”
I managed to find a small breath. “What are you trying to tell me?”
He twirled the stem of his empty wineglass in his hand and forced a weak smile. “As they say, it’s complicated.”
I wasn’t amused. “What does that mean?”
“It means we haven’t actually filed the paperwork.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re still married?”
“Technically, but it’s not like what you’re thinking. It’s just that every time we get close to filing the papers, it doesn’t actually happen.”
“Because you still have feelings for one another.”
“Maybe.” He reached over to touch my hand, but I moved it away. “The feelings aren’t really the issue. I guess you’d call it inertia.”
“Inertia.” I pushed my glass away and stiffened. “Maybe you should tell me exactly what’s going on.”
He nodded. “Jennifer and I...we haven’t been together in months. What I’m trying to do is be honest with you. The divorce paperwork hasn’t been filed, but I’m going to eventually follow through. I just thought you should know.”
“Eventually, huh?” I realized there were tears in my eyes. “Then there’s something you should know: I don’t date married men.” I tossed my napkin onto the table. “Call me, when, or if, you sort out your feelings. And your paperwork.”
FIFTY-TWO
I took the subway home. I think. I have no memory of those events because I was having an emotional breakdown. By the time I got home, I was a watery, gooey mess of runny makeup and emotions that had melted down like a nuclear reactor. As I walked in the door, I was still sobbing. Then I heard a sound and managed to push down my emotions.
“What the hell?” I said, going over to the bank of freezers on the wall of our apartment.
The sound came again. It was coming from behind one of the lower freezer doors. Somebody was alive and crying from inside one of the drawers that held dead bodies!
I pulled my gun out of my purse, pointed it at the drawer, and yelled, “Come out of there with your hands up! I have a gun!”
“Don’t shoot!” The voice was muffled, barely audible.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
There was a weak cry. “I’m stuck.”
I took a breath, reached over, and pulled the handle on the dr
awer. The latch clicked, and the drawer came open, extending its full length. A moment later, Amy sat up.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I was working on a drunk closet episode, but all the closets were full, so I had the bright idea of getting in here. When the drawer closed, I got stuck.”
Amy had priors for something she called the “drunk closet”. It began in high school when she had a beef with a school bully. Over the years, the episodes were preceded by break-ups, problems with her parents, and general self-pity episodes.
I helped her out of the drawer, seeing that she was still wearing her aluminum dress.
“I take it the date didn’t go so well,” I said.
“He was a fuwking looney-tune, Mads. The guy chased me around the park, screaming crazy shit about ghosts and spirits. I think he escaped from a nut house.” She wiped her tears. “Hey, why are you home?”
My own tears restarted as I blurted out, “Sam’s married.”
“WHAT? Are you shitting me?”
I shook my head, crossed the living room, and collapsed onto the sofa. I saw that she had an open bottle of wine on the table and poured myself a glass.
Amy came over, filled her own glass, and said, “Tell me about it. And don’t leave anything out.”
I spent the next half hour spilling everything that had happened, in between fits of crying and emotional breakdowns that verged on seizures where I lost my ability to speak.
When I finally regained control of my emotions and vocal cords, I said, “I think Sam is still in love with his ex-wife. He never filed the divorce paperwork and he’s been playing me this whole time.”
Amy swigged her drink, wiped her mouth. “That dirty bastard. I never trusted him. What you gonna do now?”
I sucked in a breath, wiped my tears. “Go back to my miserable single life.”
“At least you got company. Hey, I got me an idea. We could take off our shirts, paint eyelashes on our nipples, use our belly buttons for a nose, and use you know what for a mouth.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Probably, but just hear me out. We then take a picture of each other’s ‘face’, put them on t-shirts, and sell ‘em on Facebook. We could make a fortune.”