by Aaron, Celia
Heading up the stairs, I met Benton on the landing. “Anything?” I asked.
“No.” I could hear his frustration, though the light had faded away until I could barely see him. “I even used the pull-down to the attic. Nothing up there but Christmas decorations that may, in some bizarre time twist, even predate Christ.” He descended the steps.
“Nothing downstairs either, except some files on Judge Ingles’ luxury car habit.”
“What?”
“He’s the proud owner of half a dozen foreign sports cars.”
“That…makes no sense. The man’s driven a Cadillac since I’ve known him. Always last year’s model. Always white.”
“Money. It’s money.” I ran my finger around the outline of my badge while I thought through what we’d discovered. “Judge Ingles came into money somehow. He spent it on cars, apparently, and revamping businesses on the square. But where did the money come from? And some of the cars were purchased as recently as a couple of months ago. He still has cash. How? And was that what was in your father’s safe? The judge’s money?”
“Dirty money, you mean.” He sighed. “There’s no way this is legal. Which means, whatever it is, my dad was caught up in it somehow, knew it was going on.”
The dark gave me some cover, just enough for me to reach out and squeeze his upper arm. “That’s my working theory at the moment, yes. I’m sorry.”
When I began to drop my hand, he covered it with his own. His palm was warm, and his large hand engulfed the comfort I offered. We stood in silence for a moment, both of us peering at each other through the gloom.
My phone rang, making me jump. I dropped my hand and answered the call.
“Yeah, Logan?”
“Hey. Everyone’s looking for the judge. Even Garvey said he’d—”
“Why hasn’t he called to chew me out yet?” I stepped away from Benton as the spell between us broke.
Logan snorted. “Oh, it’s coming. Trust me. He was on his way in to see Lina when I spoke to him, so look for a call in a little while. Might want to be sitting down for it.”
My stomach churned. “Great.”
“I’m out at the judge’s farm. He’s got a little house out here. And by little I mean a two-story stunner that’s bigger than my house plus your house. Amazing on a district judge’s salary, you know?”
I whistled. “That’s not suspicious or anything.”
“Yeah. It’s over the line into Carson County, so I guess we’d have no reason to know about it. But this place is enormous.”
“Anyone home?”
“Not that I can see, no. I rang the doorbell and peeped through the windows. Nothing’s moving. Hang on…”
“What is it?”
“There’s a sheriff’s car coming up the drive.”
“That’ll be one of Porter’s deputies. I asked for some reinforcements.”
“Good. About time the sheriff’s office does something worthwhile. I’ll give our deputy pal some stakeout orders and head on back. I still haven’t had a chance to get with Sal over those tapes yet, but it’s my next stop.”
“Have you drafted any subpoenas for Randall or Letty’s cell phone records?”
“Shit, no. Haven’t had a chance yet. But you know that’ll take at least a month for the carrier to get back to us. And more likely than not they’ll have an objection to it, so we’ll have to fight it out in court.”
“I know, but we still need to get them drafted and sent. Just add it to your list for the day. Then check up with the crime scene tech, see if he found anything. I’ll also need you to take a look at King’s laptop, then—”
He sighed. “Jesus, I don’t get paid enough for this.”
“Suck it up, buttercup. Anyway, we’ve searched the judge’s house, came up empty. But I’m going to sweep it one more time. After that, I guess I’ll have to go see Garvey, and then I’ll—”
“Don’t forget bedtime.”
“Shit!” I pulled the phone away from my face and saw that it was already seven o’clock. “Double shit.”
“You can make it.” Logan clucked his tongue. “If you don’t, Vivi is going to tear you a new—”
“Let me know what you find at Sal’s.” I ended the call, then hustled down the hallway and into the first bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
“Just checking the place before we lock it up.” I peered into a guest bedroom, the bed made and the curtains drawn.
“Then what?” He flipped on the lights for me as I walked around each room.
“Then bedtime.”
18
Benton
Arabella gave me a warning look as we entered the small bungalow. “Vivi can be demanding. But as a rule, we can only have two bedtime stories. If you go to three, she’ll take that opening, and before you know it you’ll be reading half a dozen stories, then acting them out for her.”
“Got it.” I didn’t have much experience with children, but Arabella’s daughter seemed like a sharp kid. And I wasn’t lying when I’d said I wanted to get to know Arabella and her family better. Maybe I was suffering from some sort of post-trauma haze, but I couldn’t discount my interest. And I’d always been the sort of person who went after what I wanted, sometimes to a fault.
The house smelled like cookies and shampoo. A high, sweet voice floated down the hall and mixed with a lower, scratchier voice.
Arabella let out a sigh of relief. “We made it. Bath time saved us. Have a seat.” She pointed to a worn sofa with sagging pillows. “I’ll go check on Vivi and May Bell.”
I sat as instructed, the well-loved couch just as comfortable as it looked.
“Hey baby, you have a good supper?” Arabella’s voice seemed to climb an octave when she spoke to her child.
“Mommy! We had chocolate chip cooki—”
“We had vegetables.” The scratchier voice interjected.
Arabella’s laughter sent a wave of warmth through me. “Meemaw is lying.”
“She’s not a lion. I’m a bear!” A roar ricocheted down the hallway.
I found myself smiling, unable to stop. A hairdryer began to hum, obscuring the rest of their conversation. I studied the photos on the wall, most of them of Arabella, Vivi, or both. They seemed to have great fun together—at the zoo, at the pool, at somebody’s backyard barbecue.
The house was tiny, the furniture threadbare, and the neighborhood questionable, but this little family had just as much love—or possibly more—than the King family in our antebellum mansion. If I had driven past this place last week, I would’ve assumed so many things about its occupants, none of them good. I shook my head. Porter was always telling me what a stuck-up asshole I’d become. Maybe he was right for once.
The hairdryer turned off. After a few more moments of chatter and what sounded like Vivi picking out her pajamas, the little girl called out, “Bennon!”
“Yes, ma’am.” I rose and skirted around the edge of the sofa and into the hallway. Lullaby music came from the first door on the left.
Vivi’s room was scarcely big enough for her twin size bed and massive collection of stuffed animals and toys, but it was cozy, and the flowery walls seemed to suit her.
“Bennon!” She patted the bed, her bright eyes wide. “Sit next to Mommy.”
Arabella looked up at me, and I realized that this was the first time I’d seen her completely at ease. She seemed younger, the harsh façade she had to wear while performing her detective roll fallen away.
“I told you she was demanding.”
“I not!” Vivi tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and patted the bright purple comforter even harder. “Bennon sit!”
A cough from down the hall told me that Arabella’s mom wasn’t far. I entered the room, careful not to tread on a lineup of unicorns near the foot of the bed, and sat where Vivi had instructed.
She grinned, one of her bottom teeth missing, and handed me a book. “You read.” She snuggled back into her bed, a lion tuck
ed next to her, and watched me expectantly.
“Just two,” Arabella hissed in my ear.
“Mommy.” Vivi glowered.
“What?” She leaned away from me and shrugged.
I started, “The sun has set not long ago…”
Vivi nodded and hugged her lion as I continued. She didn’t seem to get any sleepier as I finished the book. Instead, she happily handed me a new one to read.
“In the great green room…” I showed her the pages as I read through the book, and her mouth moved along with my words. She probably knew the story better than I did, even though my mom used to read me the very same book when I was a child.
When I finished the last page, Arabella stood quickly. “All right, time to go to sleep. You’ve got preschool tomorrow.”
Vivi didn’t spare a glance to her mother and, instead, pulled a third book from beneath her pillow and handed it to me. “Stella Luna, Bennon.”
“I hate that one.” Arabella fielded a scowl from Vivi. “I mean, it’s my least favorite. I don’t hate it.”
“Bennon, you read.” Vivi smiled and leaned back, hugging the lion tight against her.
“Vivi, it’s time to go to sleep now. Benton and I have to—”
“It’s fine.” I turned to Vivi and tapped the front of the book, which had a large bat on it. “I’ll read Stella Luna if you promise this is the last one. That’ll keep you and me both out of trouble with your mom.”
Vivi scrunched her nose as she considered my offer. Her expression mirrored one I had seen on her mother’s face a few times over the past couple of days.
“You read good, and okay.” Vivi nodded.
“Better you than me.” Arabella folded her arms across her stomach and leaned against the door frame as I began to read.
The story, about a bat who lost her mother, flowed smoothly. I dropped my voice lower and lower as I went, and Vivi’s eyelids did the same. By the time I whispered “the end” and closed the book, she was drowsing off.
I chanced a look at Arabella, whose eyes were soft, a faint smile on her lips. My heart seemed to forget its job for a moment, sputtering before finding its pace once more. She was beautiful, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and love in her eyes as she watched her daughter. For a moment, I let myself believe that maybe I could have a place in a life like this, with a woman like Arabella, and a child like Vivi. Which was silly, really. I would have to spend all my time rebuilding the firm. That’s what my father would have expected of me. Carrying on the family name and the family business. It’s what I wanted, wasn’t it?
“Goodnight, little devil.” Arabella whispered and walked over, bending down to kiss Vivi’s dark hair. She crooked a finger at me, and we both left the room, the soft lullaby still playing in the background as Arabella closed Vivi’s bedroom door.
“You read pretty good for a stuffed shirt lawyer.” A woman with medium brown skin and dark, piercing eyes stood just inside the living room.
“Thanks?”
“Mom, don’t.” Arabella scooted past and into the kitchen.
“Mrs. Matthews, I presume?”
She smiled, deep wrinkles forming next to her eyes. “Call me May Bell. Everyone does.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Benton.”
“I know who you are.” She dipped her chin toward the kitchen. “I keep tabs on anyone hanging around my Belly. Sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks.” I knew the word sounded hollow. But the wound was still too fresh for me to say much more.
She patted my arm with one bony but warm hand. “It’ll get easier. I promise.”
I could tell where Arabella got her warmth from.
“So, you like my Belly?”
“Mom!” Arabella hurried out of the kitchen with two travel mugs in her hands. “Don’t.”
“I was just making conversation is all.” May Bell gave me a conspiratorial look.
“You were working on embarrassing me. Like you do.” She handed me a cup, steam rising from the spout. “We have to get going.”
“Where to?” May Bell put one hand on her hip. “You won’t tell me what happened to your forehead, it’s already dark, and there’s a killer on the loose, so I think—”
“Right, that’s why I have to go.” Arabella placed a hasty kiss on May Bell’s cheek and opened the front door.
“Come back anytime.” May Bell gave my arm a squeeze before I joined Arabella on the front porch. The storm had brought even cooler weather, the air thick with chill.
Arabella paused, a pinched look on her face as she turned back to May Bell. “If I’m not back in the morning—”
“I’ll take Vivi to school. My dance card is free tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Arabella turned and hurried toward her car.
“Bye, Benton. See you again soon, I hope.” May Bell shot me a knowing smile before closing the door against the cold.
We piled into the cruiser.
Arabella started the car, but didn’t put it in drive. After a few moments, she turned to me. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“What?”
“Look, Vivi doesn’t have any men in her life other than Logan. I’ve never wanted her to get attached to anyone who wasn’t going to stick around. Her father is out of the picture, like I said. And I keep any other guys out of the picture, too.”
“You don’t date?” I was surprised.
“No. I mean, in the past, here and there. But nothing serious. I won’t let Vivi get hurt.” Her tone was serious, her eyes dark in the dim car. “Do you understand?”
Did I take offense? Yes. But I also understood where she was coming from. “I get it.”
“Thank you.” She started the car and reached for the gear shift.
“But you can trust me.”
Her hand paused on the shifter. “Why? Why do you even care if I trust you? Aren’t you the one who’s too good to associate with people like me and my family?”
I wished I could suck up all the stupid things I’d said to her and poof them out of existence. But she was right. I’d been a prick. “I know. I did say those things. And I’m sorry for them. But—”
“I already forgave you for saying them. That’s not the point. The point is that you come from a world where that’s a normal train of thought.” She didn’t quite glare at me, but almost. “We aren’t the same, or even similar. I have a child and a sick mother at home. I spend my paycheck on childcare and May Bell’s medical bills. We lived on Razor Row while you were growing up at the King house.” She laughed, but it was sad. “You know, when I was a teenager, I used to sit in my car and stare at that house. I’d wish it was me who lived there, me who had a housekeeper, me who had money to do whatever I wanted—but not piss it away on girls and beer like Porter always did. I was always just looking, a bystander taking part in a life that wasn’t mine and that could never be mine. You can’t just walk into my life and fit, just like I couldn’t do that to yours. We are pieces to entirely different puzzles.”
Her words sank deep, the clear divide between us like a jagged crack through Azalea—one that I’d exacerbated with my foolish words. Was there a way to fix it?
“Look.” She let out a long exhale. “I’m going to solve this case. So let’s work together right now to—”
Her phone rang, the sound jarring in the tense air. She answered it. “Chief—”
What ensued was a one-sided conversation from Chief Garvey, while Arabella answered with a string of “yes,” “no,” and “I’m on it.”
I replayed her words over in my mind and tried to think of a way to bridge the gap. Maybe she was right. Maybe I should have been backing away from her and her family. But I couldn’t. From the first moment I saw her, I was curious. And the more I got to know her, the more I liked her. It was out of character, but also felt more right than anything I’d done in a long, long time. It was as if Dad’s death had deconstructed me on some fundamental level, and when I looked back at myself, I realized how
empty I’d been, how stuck, and how goddamn unhappy.
“Shit.” She ended the call and pulled me from my thoughts.
“What?”
She put the car in drive. “You up to investigate an okra theft?”
19
Arabella
I pulled into Mrs. Lagner’s driveway behind an aging Buick. She lived in a one-story ranch home just on the outside of the residential area of Azalea. The big front yard was dotted with trees, and the backyard had a wide expanse of grass, a separate area with bean poles and other gardening items. A garage sat nearby, one door open, but the insides shadowy.
A light flicked on above the front porch, and the door swung open. An elderly woman, her robe clutched tightly around her round frame motioned for us to come on.
“I’m going to kill Logan,” I muttered as I grabbed my heavy flashlight and exited the car to walk around to the porch.
Benton had been quiet on the short drive over here. I didn’t blame him, especially after I dressed him down about any expectations he may have had regarding my family or me. Funny thing was, I expected him to deny that he was even thinking about me that way. But he didn’t, which scared me and warmed me in equal parts.
“Get on in here.”
“Mrs. Lagner?” I flashed her my badge, but the squad car seemed to be enough for her to welcome two complete strangers into her home. “I’m Detective Matthews and this is…Deputy King.”
Benton followed as I stepped over the threshold and into a small hallway with a sitting room to the left and the dining room to the right. The air was stifling hot, to the point I wanted to fan my face.
She paused and gave us both a once-over. “Got a deputy out here and everything, huh? It’s about gosh darn time!” She nodded hard, her short gray curls not moving a millimeter. “You can cut through here to the garden, and I’ll show you what I’ve been telling Chief Garvey for what feels like days on end.” Her exasperated tone covered an edge of excitement as she hustled down the hall, sprightly for her age. “I’ve been telling him and telling him, but he keeps telling me that there is no way…” Her high voice became muffled as she turned into what look like a den area with the TV blaring some nighttime game show.