Design on a Crime

by Ginny Aiken

  I watched him drive away. On the one hand, I was glad that Marge hadn't repeated her earlier mistake. On the other hand, I no longer held out hope for a tolerable perp.

  Again that hint of fear hovered in the back of my mind. I pushed it aside and grabbed my cell phone.

  "Hey, Tedd. You wouldn't have a free minute this afternoon, would you?"

  "Sure. I'm done with my last client. I was about to go through my notes from the day's sessions, but I'm available. Are you okay?"

  "I think so, but I'm confused. And it seems that talking to you helps me sort through my sludge."

  "Prayer would do more."

  "Not now. Please." The comfort I once knew in my faith tugged at me, but I had more questions and doubts than answers in that regard. "I need to talk. Want to meet for dinner?"

  "That's a great idea. Where do you want to go?"

  "It's gotta be cheap-I'm broke, you know."

  "Mickey Dee's will do, if you don't mind."

  "I can afford that. See you down at the one on Breezewalk and Pine."

  Fifteen minutes later we carried our trays to a booth. As if by mutual accord, we dug into our food and talked about nothing much. But once we'd finished our fries, Tedd gave me one of her penetrating looks.

  "Spill it."

  "I'm having a hard time with all the crud I've mucked up about people I like. They're not who I thought they were."

  She smiled. "So you've realized they're human too, full of warts and wrinkles and secrets and lies."

  "Something like that."

  "Why are you having trouble with reality?"

  I didn't know how to get around it, so I just let 'er rip. "Because it looks like anyone is capable of murder-for real, not just a cliche. Anyone could have killed Marge."

  "Welcome to the real world, Haley. People are fallen sinners, like Scripture says, and only by the grace of God do we have any hope at all."

  I felt the reflexive urge to silence the mention of God, but I couldn't go through with it this time. I was torn two ways; I wanted the comfort of the faith I had once known, but I also wanted to scream at the God who allowed evil and sin.

  "I guess there's something to this deal with Tom and Marge," I ventured. "They had an affair years ago. That's what really caused Gussie's miscarriage. It seems they recently agreed for Tom to do restorations for Marge's clients. Someone saw them together in Seattle."

  "They jumped to the obvious conclusion."

  "Yes, Penny's great at leaping in the wrong direction."

  "And what does that have to do with you?"

  "That's what I don't know yet." I sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that if someone is predisposed to suspect Tom, then seeing him with Marge would do it for sure."

  "Sounds good so far."

  "No, it's bad. It's another case of those bad choices we talked about that other time."

  "You mean sin."

  "If that's what you want to call it."

  "I call it what it is, Haley. It'd be good if you did too."

  "Anyway, it probably was a bad idea for Tom to work with Marge, in view of their past history."

  "I see where you're going with this, and I agree. I also see that you don't want to go there, no matter how possible it seems."

  "Do you blame me?" Anger sparked. "I've lost so much. First Paul did a number on me. Then Mom died, then Marge, and now I'm about to lose-"

  I stopped myself. I couldn't say it. I just couldn't.

  "What were you going to say, Haley?"

  "What I want to know is what kind of God abandons someone he loves like he abandoned me? I only have Dad now, and he's not young anymore. I can't drag him into my problems. I'm alone, Tedd. All alone."

  The rage made my cry guttural, and I saw a mom pull her little girl closer. I gave her an apologetic smile, but I knew what I felt.

  "So tell me, Tedd. Where's God? Where's the comfort and presence he's supposed to offer?"

  Tedd reached across the table and covered my fist. "He's here, Haley. He's everywhere you've been."

  "Then why doesn't he do something to stop all this? Why doesn't he help me? Why'd he leave me to rot and hurt all on my own?"

  "You're not alone, you know. You have your dad, you have Tyler, and I'd like to think you know that you have me too."

  "That's not what I meant-"

  "Listen to me, will you?" When I nodded, she continued. "You were arrested, weren't you?"

  I nodded.

  "Are you still in jail?"

  "No, but-"

  "How'd you get out, Haley? Did the cops just open up the cell and tell you to head on home by bedtime?"

  "No, Dad-"

  "Aha! Your father came to help, didn't he? And his wasn't the only help, was it?"

  "Yes ... no ... I don't know what you're getting at."

  "Give me a chance." She patted my hand, then slipped a glossy lock of black hair behind an ear. "Your father wasn't about to let you rot in jail. What makes you think your heavenly Father, who loves you and your dad way more than you love each other, has abandoned you? Didn't he provide the money for your father to make bail? Didn't he provide the doctor who put you back together years ago after Paul tore you to shreds? Didn't God urge Tyler, your dad, and even Gussie to make you come see me?"

  The tears fell on the tabletop. I couldn't speak.

  Tedd had no such problem. "Haley, God's been by you the whole time. You closed him out, and that's where the pain comes from. Let him in. He's knocking at your heart's door. Would you shut your earthly father out like that?"

  I shook my head. Sobs hitched my breath.

  "Reach out and grab what the Lord's giving you."

  "I don't know ... what's he giving me, Tedd?"

  "He's giving you life, a restored life where healing is total and his love is irresistible. But you have to let him in."

  "I ..." A sob cracked my voice. "I don't know how."

  "Take that first step. Just say yes."

  I surprised even myself. I whispered, "Yes."

  Something in me shifted in that McDonald's booth. I didn't feel better after Tedd and I said good-bye; I just knew I was a different woman from the one who had called her therapist and asked to meet at a fast-food place.

  I'd never heard of a shrink who hit the Golden Arches with a client. But nothing about my life had been normal for a long time now. So why should I expect Tedd to be typical?

  I was changing. But I had no control over the change. I had to wonder if Dad and Tyler had been right all along. They'd said that God wouldn't quit chasing me until I let him catch me again.

  Was that what I'd just done?

  Back home, I pulled out my portfolio and played for a while with the placement of decorative accents in Gussie's living and dining rooms.

  I'd talked Gussie into storing a number of her tchotchkes, and the ones we chose to use would add just the right touch to the new decor. I spread out the photos I'd taken and began to group items by size and color on a list. Then I divided them into potential groupings on specific pieces of furniture.

  When I got to the table by the window I'd draped with the Thai silk, I stopped. I checked the photo and realized I hadn't imagined a thing. The Erte wasn't in the picture. It wasn't something the Stokers had owned for any length of time. It had appeared after my visit, days after Marge's death.

  But it had been on the auction list.

  My heart began to pound. Too many coincidences led back to that house, that statue, that couple.

  It wasn't what I wanted, but I had no control.

  In a flash, I saw what Tedd had tried to tell me. What Dad and Mom and Tyler had also said. I didn't have control over what anyone else did. And while God could control anything and everything, he had given his creation the freedom to choose. God could intervene, but then he'd be no more than a master puppeteer.

  A puppet couldn't love back. And that was what God asked. His children had to choose whether they'd love him enough to obey or whether they'd g
o the other way.

  I had to accept that God gave everyone the same freedom.

  I didn't know how I was going to make it through the next few hours, days, alone. But if Tedd was right, I didn't have to. In a hesitant voice, I said, "God ... if you're listening ... help me, please."

  I was amazed by how easy it was to turn to a life of crime. True, I did it for a good cause, to save my skin, but I stole something. Something major, at that.

  Gussie went to bed at nine o'clock most nights. She said the pain drained her and she needed that much sleep to function the next day. I called and told her I needed a couple more measurements but that I couldn't make it over until closer to nine thirty.

  "That's fine, Haley. Tom's a night owl. He'll be up until at least midnight. I'll let him know you're coming."

  True to her word, she'd told Tom about my visit. He let me in, told me to make myself at home. "I'm working on my miniature train set in the basement," he said. "I won't get in your way."

  I couldn't believe how easy it was. I hurried to the living room, walked around the room to make sure Tom heard and didn't get suspicious. I grabbed the statue and stuffed it into my roomy backpack purse.

  "Hey, Tom! I'm done. I'll be on my way-'

  "Hold on," he said. "I'd like a minute with you."

  That's when I started to sweat. Had he figured out I was up to no good? Well, no good in terms of the statue, but good for the sake of my skin.

  "What's up?" I asked when he joined me by the front door.

  "I wanted to tell you I didn't get a chance to talk to Gussie yet. You know, about Marge."

  "What can I say? I don't think you have much time. Penny's not known for her discretion."

  "So it's Penny. I am in trouble. As soon as Gussie's over this latest spell, I'll make sure to tell her. As it is, you're the only person she's spoken to besides me. Maybe I can keep it that way until she's better."

  "Good luck."

  Not only would he need luck to keep the effects of Penny's wicked tongue at bay, but I'd need some good fortune as well. I was headed to the cop shop.

  Once I was sure what I wanted to do, I called Tyler. He asked why I cared about Detective Tsu's schedule, and I asked him to give me space. He wasn't happy about it, but he said she'd left the dojo after her eight o'clock class. She'd planned to go to the station, since she'd said she had paperwork to catch up on.

  This time, I didn't bear down through the halls of justice like a drill bit through soft pine but instead did the regulation bit. I told the dispatcher I had to see Detective Tsu, that it was urgent.

  The woman who came out to meet me looked nothing like the one I knew, not the ultraelegant professional or the dedicated martial arts student either. Detective Tsu wore a pair of gently faded jeans that fit her to perfection and a T-shirt in an attractive shade of gold, and her hair hung loose to her shoulder blades. She looked like any other woman. True, not many looked quite that gorgeous, but tonight the air of intimidating perfection I'd come to associate with her wasn't there.

  "This is a strange time to stop by the department," she said.

  "I have to talk to you."

  "So I gather."

  Her up-and-down inspection made me aware of how I must look-tired, hair as wild as ever, and clothes more wrinkled than not. Still, I refused to let her intimidate me.

  "Let's go to my office," she finally said. "We can talk there."

  I followed in silence, preparing what I'd say. But as was usually the case, the minute the door closed, all my planned eloquence joined the cow and jumped over the moon. I blurted everything out.

  "So here's the statue," I said at the end of my monologue. "I'm afraid my fingerprints are everywhere, but maybe you can test for others too."

  She shook her head. "You think this is necessary?"

  "I don't think it's necessary, I know you have to test this thing. I've told you about the Stokers, and now I have photos with dates on the prints. Something's up with this thing."

  I plunked the bronze on her immaculate desk. The dark stain at the base of the statue caught my eye again. A grotesque possibility occurred to me. "I just remembered something I noticed the first time I saw this. Do you see that stuff down there?"

  The detective nodded without much interest.

  'At first I thought it was a matter of age. You know, patina." I waited for Detective Tsu's nod. "Now I'm not so sure. It's only in one spot, and it doesn't look like a stain as much as something encrusted in the folds of the dress."

  Just thinking about it made me sick.

  Detective Tsu picked up the Erte. She looked it over, turned it around, then ran a short, rose-polished nail over the stain. She stiffened, then shot a look my way.

  "You might be right about one thing," she said. "This could be encrusted matter and not a mark of age."

  Even though her words did nothing for my twitchy stomach, I felt vindicated. "So you'll test the bronze?"

  "You've left me with no alternative, have you?" Karate Chop Cop didn't sound happy about it, but grudging admiration showed in her face. "Still, how do you explain the bloody rock? It was Marge's blood-your fingerprints too."

  "I don't know. Maybe when she fell she struck her head on the rock. You know, the wound itself."

  "Maybe ... You realize that if this turns out to be significant, then I'll owe you an apology. You stuck to your guns, and you might have come up with something."

  "Someone had to do it."

  Detective Tsu conceded with grace. 'And you thought I wasn't doing it."

  "Opinion nothing. You did nothing but look for ways to tie me to the crime."

  "I'm sorry that's the impression you have of my investigation. Believe me, I did more than pursue you." She placed the statue on the desk. "It'll take a day or two to get anything back from the lab. Please don't do anything crazy before I call you with results."

  "I'll try." Something else came to mind. "Will you release Marge's body for burial now?"

  "It's not up to me, but I think the coroner's been done for days. Her next of kin, her husband, hasn't claimed her body yet."

  "He's a pig," I muttered. "I'll speak to Dad about it. He'll call you to make arrangements."

  She nodded. "By the way, and just so you know, we caught the kids who vandalized the warehouse. They've been very thorough in that area. I don't think there's a building they haven't hit in one way or another."

  I shrugged. "That's good."

  Karate Chop Cop sent me a crooked grin. "Yes, it is. In more ways than one. As is our discovery of Marge's Rolodex. It was under another rhododendron, covered with a thin layer of mulch."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really. Interestingly enough, the entire S section was missing.

  I winced. "It makes sense, even though it doesn't make me any happier."

  "I understand." The detective then glanced at the running computer.

  I got the hint. "I won't keep you any longer, but please let me know what you find out. I know I'm still your prime suspect, but I can't go on like this much longer."

  For good measure, I added, "I didn't kill Marge."

  Without making promises, Detective Tsu agreed that mine was a terrible position.

  At the door, I paused. "That's the understatement of the century."

  I left, and although I should have felt somewhat better, I dreaded the lab results. Either way, Marge was still dead.

  "Haley, honey," Gussie said the next morning. "I just had to call. I'm so sorry I missed you last night, but you know how the morphine knocks me out when the pain gets really bad."

  I'd had a moment of panic when I heard her voice. "That's okay. I did what I had to do and didn't stay long. I've been busy these last few days."

  "How much more do you have to do to finish the rooms?"

  "Not much. I have to bring over some accessories and lamps I picked up. The upholsterer delivered the couch and chair, didn't she?"

  'And they look wonderful! You have such an excellent e
ye. Tell you what. Why don't you and the reverend come to dinner tonight? That way you can bring the accessories, and we can celebrate a job well done."

  There was no getting around it. "That sounds great. What time?"

  'Around six, as usual. And I'll make those turkey tenderloins you like so well."

  "Just don't go to any trouble. You haven't been feeling well, and you don't want to make things worse."

  "Don't worry. After all these years, I know what I'm doing."

  "I'll see you later, then."

  "Good-bye."

  I was pretty sure I knew what had happened to Marge, but knowing didn't make me any happier. I hoped the lab did their thing fast so Detective Tsu could wrap things up. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to get on with my life, find out what God had in store for me, since it looked like he'd snuck up and caught me, as Tyler had predicted he would.

  I wasn't there yet, but I had taken a couple of baby steps.

  "Dinner was wonderful, as always, Gussie," Dad said, all smiles.

  She smiled. "You're welcome. As always."

  "Well, Reverend," Tom said, standing. "Gussie tells me she and Haley have a bunch of knickknacks they want to play around with. I don't know about you, but that's not my kind of thing. Want to run down to the driving range for a bucket of balls?"

  Dad and Tom had little in common. Tom was a jock, a fan of all things golf. Dad was an intellectual, more comfortable with books than with golf clubs and balls. But he was a good sport.

  He shrugged. "Can't say I'll hit many, but I'm willing to try my hand at it. Just don't expect much." He turned to me. "I'll drive home after the golf, since you have your car."

  Hmm ... I didn't like this. "How about you stop by here? I'm taking the old coffee table and can't handle it alone."

  Dad gave me a weird look but agreed to my request.

  Thank goodness.

  The two men left, and anxiety came. I hadn't known how to hold them back without making a fuss, but I didn't like the sudden silence in the house.

  "Shall we start?" Gussie asked, her eyes bright, maybe too bright.