by Tina Anne
“Frankly, I don’t either. But this one had just run its course, I guess,” I said.
“That’s sad,” William said.
“Yes it is.” I said. “But what about you and Marcella’s mom? If I may ask.” I corrected myself. I felt like I was using really bad manners.
“You may ask,” William said. “In fact I’m surprised you don’t know. It’s common knowledge around here.”
We all shook our heads. Jerome had already told me something, but I didn’t want William to know I’d been talking about him.
“I wasn’t always a man of God. I did some bad things in my life. One evening, my wife, Mary was standing outside talking to my brother Martin. They were both perfectly innocent, never involved in any wrong doing. Then these young punks drive by and just start shooting. Mary and Martin were both killed.” His eyes were watery, I had the feeling there was some guilt there.
“We have drive bys?” I asked panicked.
“Not anymore,” William said.
“Thank God.”
“That’s who I thank. After that senseless shooting the community started to fight back. I cleaned up my act, made my peace with the Lord, and joined the fight. I’m still fighting. We will never let the gangs get a hold of our young people again. We need them if we’re going to have a future.”
“Amen,” Minerva and I both said.
I smiled at William; I really had to admire the man. But I wanted to cry for him too. That man had gone through more than I ever could have imagined. In fact, in comparison, I was very lucky. All my loved ones were alive and well. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Frankie’s phone ringing.
“Sorry, turned it back on when we got out here. Be right back,” he said to us.
He walked away from the table and took the call. The rest of us started to talk about the park opening. Even Frank seemed excited about it. Then it was time to go back inside. We took our seats again. Frankie trailed in behind me and smiled. “You were right,” was all he could say before the bailiff told us that court was back in session.
After a couple more hours of watching George do a crappie job defending Adolf, court was adjourned for the day. We talked about going out to dinner together. The only problem was that the four of us were sick of the food at the local restaurants.
“Then, ya’ll come with me,” William said. “I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant. I bet ya’ll ain’t never been there.”
“Let’s go,” Frankie said. “Where’s your car?”
“Don’t own no car. Can’t afford it. Walk or take the bus,” William said.
“Ok, but we can’t do that,” Frankie said. “Dad, can you drive and William can direct you? Mom’s car only seats two. We’ll follow.”
“It would be an honor,” Frank said.
We followed William to a place near where he, Marcella, and Jerome live. When we got out of our cars William greeted all of the people who were standing on or near the corner. He even introduced us to them. I recognized some of them as employees from the park. They were the ones who stayed around to help and fix up the park. They were mostly young with a mixture of black, white, and Hispanic traits.
One girl who couldn’t have been much older than sixteen had a baby on her hip and one in a stroller. When we got inside I asked William about her. He said she had made some mistakes in her life, but her biggest mistake was in believing what young men told her. She did work at the park, like I thought. The community helped babysit so she could work. The only problem, William said was that the kids had no structure in their lives. They never knew who they would stay with while Mom went to work. I wondered if maybe we could add a daycare somewhere along the line. She can’t be the only one with that issue.
William directed us to a booth and he went to order our food for us.
“We shouldn’t’ let him pay, the man has no money,” I said.
“Already taken care of,” Frank said, smiling as he said it.
William walked back over to our table and sat down. “I took it easy on ya’ll. I know you’re not southern, so I tried to order a mixture of food for you.”
“I appreciate that,” I said.
“Oh, I lived in Georgia for years,” Minerva said. “I love Southern food.”
“Well, all right now,” was all William had to say. But he gave her a big, approving smile.
Just then the girl from behind the counter brought over plates of food. There was fried chicken, fried fish, oxtail soup, collard greens, grits, and cornbread. I filled my plate with a little of everything.
That’s where William had us all pause so he could say grace. This was not a tradition in my house, but I would never disrespect William. We all bowed our heads.
“Dear Lord, we thank you for the food we are about to receive. We thank you for bringing us all together here today. We thank you for friendships that have been forged. We pray that you will guide us and watch over us. And Lord, please let Mrs. Neuspech’s real killer be found and brought to justice. Amen.”
We all added an Amen. Then we dug in to the food.
The meal was divine. I’m not sure if my palate had just gotten bored over the last several weeks or if the food really was that good. But I ate everything. Come to think of it, it was the quietest dinner I’ve had in a long time. Nobody spoke. We were all too busy eating.
Just when we were full, the girl from behind the counter brought over five slices of pecan pie. Oh well, I guess I could eat a little more.
As we were sitting there digesting our food and wondering how we were going to waddle to our cars, Minerva spoke up. “So is that lawyer an idiot, or is he trying to have Adolf found guilty?”
“Something we’ve all wondered,” I said.
The man at the table next to ours turned around. “Maybe both.”
I was shocked. All this time Marlowe had been sitting there and he didn’t even acknowledge us? I looked at his table, his plate was empty he must have been there for a while. Yeah, he was rude.
The server walled over and cleared his table, “That’s a new record for you, Chief. Ten minutes flat,” she said to him.
“Oh my God, did you even taste the food?” I asked.
“Never does,” the girl said shaking her head as she walked away.
“Anyway,” Frank said, “hi, Marlowe.”
“Hi, Frank. I’m interested why the lady here said that.” Was he ignoring me?
Minerva looked a bit flustered. “Well, because the lawyer asked stupid questions. He kept asking why the shovel was in the garage. The poor man didn’t know. But it was almost as if the lawyer was trying to make us think Adolf did know and was lying.”
“Maybe he did,” Marlowe said.
“Ok, but he also made it seem like the man was lying about knowing that his wife was in town. “
“True, but maybe he was.”
“Maybe, but his job is to make his client seem innocent. He’s not doing that,” Minerva pointed out.
“Maybe his client’s not innocent.”
“But I thought lawyers weren’t supposed to asked their clients if their guilt,” She said.
“Depends. Do you think he’s guilty?” Marlowe asked.
Then something happened that I only thought happened in the movies. The entire restaurant said “No” almost all at once.
That’s when Marlowe stood up. “Then who is! You people keep giving me grief for arresting suspects, and yet none of you can tell me who you think did it!” He pounded his fist on the table for emphasis.
I just cleared my throat. He looked at me and snarled.
“Lady, you have no clue what you’re talking about,” he said to me.
“Sure she does,” Frank said. “Who do you think helped me study for all those exams I’ve had to take? In fact, Misty may even know more than I do. She’s smarter than I am.”
I looked at Frank in shock. He’s never called me smart before.
“Well, it’s true. Sorry I never told you before,” Fra
nk said, bushing a little.
“Make sure you tell her,” I said pointing at Minerva.
“Not to break up all this lovey dovey stuff, but if you have any information, Ms. Summer, please let me know,” with that he walked out.
“You won’t listen anyway!” I yelled after him.
Chapter 17: The Right Outfit Will Get You Anything
When I got back to my room I sat down in the chair and tried to read a book. I thought it would take my mind off of things. It didn’t. All I could think of was our real life mystery. Who killed Barbara? Was it Adolf? If not was it George? If not, then who was it? This was driving me crazy.
There was a knock at my door. “Mommy,” Frankie called.
I got up and opened the door for him. I knew something was up. He only called me Mommy when he wanted something or was excited about something. I wondered which this was.
“Guess what? I heard from the computer guy,” he said smiling.
Ok, he was excited. And now so was I. I sat down in the chair and he sat at the table.
“You’re not going to believe this, but George’s bank account has decreased significantly in the past year.”
“Good. What did he spend it on?”
“Well,” he said, not even hesitating, “he’s been buying a lot of women’s clothes. And having weekly manicures and pedicures and dining out. Even when he wasn’t in Miami.”
“How did he do that?” I asked, not understanding.
“Turns out he had a credit card made out in the name of Barbara Neuspech.”
“What! You mean she was having an affair with him? Spending his money?”
“And living in his condo.”
“Ok, how do you know that?”
“She changed her driver’s license and her address with the post office,” he said smiling at me.
“Not the brightest bulb in the box, was she?”
“I think maybe she was just cocky. So far she had used two men. Maybe she had a history and never got caught.”
“Ok, but, that’s still not proof that he killed her. If we’re going to help Adolf we need proof.”
“Mom, why do you want to help Adolf so much?”
“I feel sorry for the guy. Plus, if he’s found guilty what happens to the park? What happens to the house I want to buy?”
“The purchase of the park won’t be affected,” Frankie said.
“Maybe not, but its reputation will be.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Frankie, if Adolf is found guilty of killing his wife then people will always think of our park as the one that used to be owned by the guy who killed his wife.”
“Could bring people in,” he pointed out.
“Not the kind we want to bring in. We’ll get people who only want to see it because a murder happened there.”
“We’ll probably get that anyway.”
“Yeah, but not in the same way. I love this park, Frankie. I want it to do well. I need it to do well.”
“I know all your money is sunk in to it.”
“Mostly. But it’s more than that, it’s my project. Mine. Dad didn’t help me with it. I was involved in almost every step of it. I even painted some of the signs inside the park. I never found my niche in life until now. I can’t let anything bad happen to it. It fails, I fail.”
Frankie leaned back in his chair and looked at me. I knew his wheels were turning. I just sat and waited for the genius to speak.
“I am impressed, Mom. However, my thing is finances and pulling the right people together. I have no idea what to do next.”
“What? My genius has no idea what to do?”
“None, but I’d bet if we both worked on it we could figure out a solution.”
So we sat and we thought. How could I get Adolf off the hook and George on the hook at the same time? Surely, George must be on his guard. Or, maybe not. Maybe he feels secure now that Adolf has been arrested. I was starting to think of a plan.
I got out my computer. I remembered seeing some pictures of Barbara when Frankie and I first researched the park. I pulled up some images of Barbara. Frankie looked over my shoulder.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“You’ll see.”
I found the picture I wanted. In it Barbara was wearing a low cut white dress with some diamond jewelry and red high heeled shoes. I walked to my closet, pulled something out of it and showed Frankie.
“But that’s just like…”
“Yes it is.” I interrupted him. “Yes it is.”
Frankie and I spent the night scheming. In the morning I would either make a fool of myself, or I would catch a killer. Or maybe both.
****
The next morning I was sitting in George’s office at nine waiting for him. He hesitated when he saw me, but then he gathered himself together and greeted me as if I did not make him uncomfortable.
“Mrs. Summer, so nice to see you,” he said smiling. “Come on in.”
I went in to his office and had a seat in one of the chairs. I made sure the slit on my skirt was placed just where he could not avoid looking at me legs. I placed my purse on my lap.
“So, what can I do for you?” he asked having a seat at his desk. “I have to be in court in an hour.”
I leaned forward so that my cleavage was also in his line of sight. “Well, Mr. Dirkmyer…”
“Please, call me George,” he said, not looking me in the eye.
“Ok, George. I’m sorry to bother you; I know you’re a busy man.”
“Yes, but I always have time for a pretty lady,” he said smiling.
“I know you’re not a divorce lawyer, but I thought maybe you could help me.”
“You’re correct, but I will try. What’s going on?”
“I need to get a quick, but lucrative divorce from my husband.”
“I thought you were already divorced?”
“No. That’s what I told everybody. I ran away from my husband. He was mean to me. He hurt me and he would not give me any money to spend on myself. He bought my clothes. He even made me spend my paychecks to pay his bar tab. When my son offered to come with me I thought he wanted to protect me. But he only wanted to let his father know where to find me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but…”
“Oh, George, don’t you see, he even followed me down here. And he brought his mistress with him.”
“That fat woman is his mistress?” He made a face of disgust as he said this.
I almost lost it. How could he call Minerva fat? Chunky maybe. But she was pretty. And she was a great person. I looked at my shoes and took a deep breath to regain my composure. Hopefully he thought I was trying to hold back the tears.
“You see,” I continued, “I have to get a divorce. I have to run away and go where he’ll never find me. If I don’t I’ll never be free.”
I could tell he was giving in. His facial features were softening and his eyes were beginning to water.
“Please, George, can you help me?” I was starting to cry. Who said I can’t act?
Suddenly he got stiff. “I can’t,” was all he said.
“Ok, then. I’ll just have to give in. You were my last hope.” I got up and turned toward the door.
“Wait,” he said.
I turned around and looked at him. “Then you will help me?”
“Yes, I will help you.”
“How? How can you help me?” I ran back to the chair and sat down; ensuring my purse was on my lap again and George had a good view of me. “Where can I go? What can I do?”
“I have a condo in Miami. You can hide there. Then I’ll start divorce proceedings here. You’ll only need to come up for the court date. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Thank you, George, thank you. But, I can’t go back to the hotel for my things Frank will see me.”
“Don’t worry; I have some women’s clothes at my condo. I think you’re her size.”
“Who’s size?” I asked.
>
“Just someone who used to live with me. She left me.”
“You’ve done this before? And you want me to wear some other woman’s clothes?”
“They are designer clothes. She had great taste. Expensive taste, anyway.”
“Who? I don’t understand?”
“Barbara.”
“Barbara? Oh, you mean Adolf’s wife? She came to you for help too? And you helped her; you’re such a good man.”
“Yeah, I helped her too. Until she got stupid and came back here to confront him. All that bitch ever wanted was money. I thought she was different.”
“She came back because she wanted money from him? Because he sold the park?” I asked.
“Yes. I thought she loved me. But you know what, she was just using me. She just wanted my money. When she’d spent it all she thought she’d come back and get more out of Adolf. And he would have given it to her. The man’s an idiot.”
“How could she use you like that? How mean!” I said putting my hand to my chest.
Good, he just confessed that he knew she was in town. Keep going, George.
“Yes, she was mean. She used me.”
“But in the end you got justice,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
Uh, oh was I too fast?
“Well. Adolf killed her. So, you were free of her,” I said. “Right?”
“Adolf killed her? You think Adolf killed her?” His face was turning red and he was laughing.
“Well, yes. And that’s what that handsome police chief says.”
“Chief Campion is an idiot.”
I couldn’t agree more. Out loud I said, “but he’s such a nice man.”
“He’s and idiot. He couldn’t solve a crime of it was committed right in front of him.”
“But, I thought…”
“Adolf is an idiot. Thinks he has depression, he’s just not a real man,” he said looking disgusted.
“But depression is real.”
“Maybe for you women it is. Not for us men. Real men can handle anything.”
Again, I had to restrain myself. I’d known people with depression, it’s real enough. But, I couldn’t let him know that.