Chapter 20
Rico awoke first and dressed quietly. Munch watched him from her cocoon of blankets. She couldn’t believe it was light out already. Her mouth was dry and she felt as if she had a hangover. The place between her legs was pleasantly sore.
"Hey" she said, "good morning."
He stopped tying his shoes and twisted around to kiss her.
"Want me to make some coffee?"
"All I have is instant."
"I know. I’ll put the water on."
She stretched. "God, I feel like shit."
"I knew I had an effect on you."
She laughed. "No, not that. That was great. I’m just drained from everything else."
He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair from her
face. "Why don’t you play hooky today?"
She considered for a moment, then dismissed the notion. She had played hooky for the first twenty-one years of her life. She had a lot of catching up to do. "Can’t. But it’s Friday so the weekend's almost here."
"Do you have any limo runs this weekend?"
She visualized her blank limo calendar. "No, nothing scheduled, but hope springs eternal."
He stood. "You’re going to have to call the phone company and get your line fixed."
"Yeah, I can do that from work." She turned at the sound of Jasper’s approach, heralded by the music of his new tags jingling against each other. A moment later, the spaniel leaped onto the bed. He came up beside her and rolled on his back. She scratched his chest while he worked his face over the pillows, reintegrating his scent.
Rico leaned across her to pet the dog. Jasper allowed the overture, and before long the dog was making prolonged grunts of pleasure.
"Looks like you’re in," Munch said.
"I’ll call you when Lisa is released," Rico said. "Should be mid-afternoon. I’m going to go see her while she’s still in custody. I want to show her the sketch of the delivery driver for Mobile Pet Supply, see if she recognizes him."
Munch had a mental picture of Lisa’s blank face, behind which lay a very bad attitude. "It would probably go better if I showed her," Munch said.
"All right, I’ll bring you a copy."
She threw back the covers. "I guess I'd better get up." She stood naked. He looked at her and smiled.
"Cold?"
She crossed the room to her closet and retrieved a bathrobe.
"I’ll get the kids up." She wanted to ask: Do you love me? Will you stay this time? Will we get married and be happy and live euphorically ever after? But what she said was "Lots of cream and sugar. "
"Hot, white, and sweet," he said. "Got it."
"First things first," she said to herself. One day at a time.
Asia had a leg out of the covers and was snoring. Jill’s pajamas were bunched into a ball on the floor. Munch lifted the blanket. Sometime in the night, Jill had put her clothes back on. Even her shoes. Munch sat on the bed and shook the kids gently.
"Wakey wakey:"
"Isn’t it Saturday yet?" Asia asked.
"Almost, honey Time to get up."
Asia sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes. There was a clattering of pans in the kitchen.
"Who’s here?" Asia asked.
"Rico."
"No wonder you’re smiling," Asia said.
Munch looked at her daughter. The expression on Asia’s face was completely guileless. Asia was just observing the obvious, something that escaped Munch from time to time. She tweaked her daughter’s nose. "Make sure your cousin gets up."
"I’m up," Jill said. "My mom comes home today. Maybe Charlotte, too. I dreamed about her last night."
"What did you dream?" Munch asked, curious. This was the first time this week Jill had expressed an interest in her sister.
"I dreamed she was in the ocean, in the waves. We were yelling for her to come in, but she wouldn’t listen."
Munch nodded. She had a lot of ocean dreams herself. She was usually on the shore or climbing rocks at the water’s edge. The waves were always monstrous tsunamis, but breaking straight up and down. So as long as she didn’t go in the water, they didn’t harm her.
And even though she loved everything about the ocean in real life, in her dreams the waves scared her. She had looked up the symbolism once. The dream book reported that water signified emotion, and a turbulent sea meant danger. Made sense. That she was always on the dry land while the biggest waves hit was even analyzed. This scenario meant that the dreamer had narrowly avoided great danger. Sometimes the shoreline was the width of a tightrope.
"You’re lucky" she said to Jill. "I never had a sister."
"Me, either." Asia said. She looked at her mother. "Maybe someday? Please?"
"I’ll see what I can do," Munch said.
"That’s all I can ask," Asia said.
Munch laughed and ruffled her hair. "Get ready for school."
Coffee was drunk, breakfast was eaten, and good-byes were said. Munch put an old bedspread and a plastic bowl for water in the car.
"What’s this for?"Asia asked.
"Jasper’s coming to work with me today" Munch said.
"You think Lou will mind?"
"I don’t think Lou tells you no about anything," Asia said.
"He must love you," Jill said, and the two girls exploded into gales of laughter.
"What’s not to love?" Munch said, deflecting the observation. "We love each other like friends."
"Uh-huh," Asia said. "Yeah, right. Friends."
The girls put their hands over their mouths, but their smirks were plain in their eyes.
"C’mon," Munch said, "let’s not dawdle."
Munch left Asia at the gas station to catch her bus. Lou promised to make sure she got on board safely Then Munch drove Jill to school in a customer’s Volvo that had an intermittent clunk in the front end that she was trying to pin down. She kept the radio turned off.
Jill sat upright beside her on the passenger seat, seat belt on, and hands folded primly in her lap.
"I remember once years ago," Munch said. "Before Asia was born. I was over at your mom’s house. I was sitting on the couch and you and your sister came running by me. She had her fist in the air, her thumb just showing between her first and middle finger. Her head was thrown back and she was laughing so hard I thought she’d fall."
"What was I doing?" Jill asked.
"You were mad as hell. You were chasing her and screaming, ’Give me back my nose, you son of a bitch."
Jill grinned. "What a potty mouth I had."
"What I also remember is that Charlotte and you always had each other. "
"She’s different now. Sometimes we hate each other."
"I hope you guys find a way to work things out. You’re blood. Don’t ever forget that."
"I’m not the one always making trouble."
Munch wondered how much of the sisters’ acrimony was due to limited resources. Maybe in Jill’s childlike logic, with her sister gone, there would be more stuff for her. Maybe that reasoning never surfaced to her consciousness but festered in some dark, insecure region of her psyche. Maybe Munch didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. Then again, what
was life but guesswork?
One thing was certain. The three Slokum females formed an odd triad. They were like the points of a triangle. Bitter Lisa, who managed total denial of her failure as a mother and role model. Intelligent but overaware Charlotte, who was too cognizant of life’s unfairness. And then there was Jill. Carefully cheerful, capable of dismissing that which interfered with her optimism. Munch was sure that Lisa, Charlotte, and Jill would each tell her different versions of any given event and that the truth would always lie somewhere in between.
She looked over at Jill, who was humming now. It took a lot of work to be consistently happy. The kid deserved credit.
"How many times have you been to Disneyland?"
"This year? Five times." .
"Really? You must like it a lot."<
br />
"Better than Knott’s Berry Farm, but Universal Studios is pretty good, too. They have an E.T. ride where you get to fly through the air and E.T. says your name at the end."
"Who do you go with?"
"Friends."
"Do these friends have names?"
"Sure."
Munch waited a few seconds, then realized that Jill was perfectly content to say no more.
"Would you tell me a few of them?"
"You wouldn’t know them."
"Humor me."
Jill spread her fingers. "Brenda and her mom. My friend Randy and his dad. I went to Knott’s Berry Farm with school. I’ll never forget that day I have this one friend Sarah who likes this guy named John, so she asked me to ask his other friend Christopher if John likes Sarah, but I like Christopher, so I felt kinda shy about it all, you know?"
"Boy do I." Munch checked the rear-view mirror. "What happened?"
"Well, then Sarah asked Christopher if he liked me and he said yes, even though I’m taller than him." Jill took a breath. "It was magical."
"Sounds like he needs to grow," Munch said, enjoying her own double entendre. "Who do you go to Disneyland with?"
Jill pushed her hair behind her ears, perhaps preening for Christopher. "Well, Micky took us all to Disneyland two times last summer and we went again last month."
"And who is Micky?"
"Oh, just this guy. He does lots of stuff for us."
"Is he your mom’s boyfriend or something?"
"No. My mom only likes gay guys now. She goes dancing with them for exercise. She says they’re much more fun than regular guys."
As if Lisa had ever known a regular guy. The term fag hug came to Munch’s mind. Basically, she couldn’t give a shit what consenting adults did behind closed doors. She had a few friends, even women friends, who happened to be gay. Okay maybe not real close friends, but people she knew to say hi to and to care how they were. But she knew she wouldn’t be comfortable with the whole gay subculture social scene. She’d probably laugh at all the wrong times and get everyone pissed off at her.
She was still working on not mentioning a person’s sexual orientation or race if she was telling a story. As in, Joe went to the store. He’s gay. Or my friend Debra called the other day.
She’s black.
They stopped at a red light. Munch looked at her niece.
"How often does your mom go dancing with her, uh, friends?"
"Probably not as much as she should. Charlotte is always after her to eat healthier and go to the gym. My mom tells her to mind her own business."
"What do you think about all that?"
"Well, I have to agree with Charlotte. Mom would probably be happier if she was healthier." Jill shrugged her thin shoulders. "But it’s her body."
"It doesn't hurt to nudge her in the right direction, especially with the diabetes and all." The light changed and they turned left. They were within shouting distance of Palm Elementary.
Jill fidgeted and kept her face averted, unwilling to comment any further on what diseases her mother might be afflicted with.
"Micky" Munch said out loud. "When we went to the storage unit, your mom asked for Micky. Same guy?"
"Yeah, that’s where we met him, I think. He’s the owner. He gives us a good rate." Jill affected an air of sophistication.
"In exchange for what?"
Ji1l sighed with exasperation, as if her patience was really being tested now. Maybe she was annoyed at having her bluff called. "He’s just a nice guy okay?"
"Did I say he wasn’t?"
Jill studied her hands. Munch felt a distinct chill.
"Mickey Mouse," Munch said. "Mouseman."
Jill didn’t look up, but she flinched ever so slightly.
Munch pressed, even though she knew it was probably useless. Some kind of psychology was called for here. Jill had to be convinced that she wasn’t betraying a loved one, turning her over to the storm troopers who threatened her world. Munch gave it one final try. "Just tell me if you ever heard anyone call him that. Maybe Charlotte or your mom said something once that you happened to overhear."
With exactly wrong timing, they had arrived at the school. Jill rolled down her window and yelled hello to one of her friends. Munch drove past the driveway.
"Hey," Jill said. "I’m going to be late. I get in trouble if I’m late." There was real panic on her face and her color was high. Munch pulled the car over to the curb. She made her expression sympathetic, but firm. "This is important. It might have to do with where Charlotte is."
"I don’t know anything," Jill said. "Can I please just go to school now? I don’t know anything."
"You said that already." Munch didn’t believe her either time but she wouldn’t keep her in the car. She let Jill out and watched her until she was safely through the gates. As Munch headed back to work, she replayed what she knew and what she didn’t. It was like trying to piece together a movie being played on the wrong speed or with the frames out of order. Discordant, sometimes blurred, but with flashes of recognizable images. A sequence formed that began to make sense. Micky or Mouseman had broken into Lisa’s storage locker looking for whatever. The whatever fell into two categories. Something he wanted or something he feared others having. If it was something he wanted, then it was probably some valuable loot that had passed through his hands. Maybe the thief had been ripped off by his young crew. Steve and/or Dave and/or Charlotte. Three kids, two of them dead, one missing. Maybe his little disciples had something on him. What could that be? Proof in some form that could get him arrested?
She thought about the Koons’ home and all those home movies on videotape. And the intruder at her own home had made off with her music videos. What was it with videos? "Shit," she said out loud. "Of course." She checked the rear-view mirror and then signaled. It took three car lengths and some pissed-off motorists before Munch could manage a U-turn. Something in the right front clunked, and the steering wheel lurched ten degrees to the left. She pulled into the parking lot of Palm Elementary, left the car without stopping to lock it, and ran to the office.
A woman was on the phone, explaining something to somebody about immunizations. Munch drummed her fingers on the counter and looked at the clock. A bell rang throughout the school and a voice came over the loudspeaker. The assembly was asked to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.
The woman on the phone held five outstretched fingers in Munch’s direction. The seconds stretched on endlessly as the voice over the loudspeaker system led the children: . . and to the republic for which it stands . . ."
Munch gathered her thoughts and composure.
"Are you here to help?" the woman asked.
"I just dropped my niece off and I need to get something from her."
"What room is she in?"
"I don’t know. "
"Who’s her teacher?"
"I don’t remember." Munch knew how suspect she sounded.
"Her name is Jill Slokum. She’s in fifth grade. If I could just pop in her classroom for a second.. .
The woman looked at Munch over her bifocals and then reached for a large student roster. Munch bit back her impatience as the woman dragged her finger over the list of names.
"Surely it’s in alphabetical order," Munch said. "Slokum with an S. S as in sh—, uh, shipwreck."
The woman looked at Munch again, clearly not amused.
"The students are listed according to classroom. If you knew her teacher, this would go quicker."
Munch nodded and forced a smile on her face. The phone rang again and the woman answered it. Munch felt like screaming. It was like dealing with the Department of Motor
Vehicles.
"She'll have to bring a note from her doctor," the woman said into the phone. "We’re here from eight-thirty to four ....Yes, I’ll have the nurse call you."
Munch covered her face with her hands. Just give me the room number, she thought, you idiotic fu—
"Your niece is i
n Mrs. Zimmer’s class. Room 310. Do you know where that is?"
"No."
"Third bungalow, turn left. You’ll see the number. "
"Thank you."
"You’ll need to sign in." The woman leisurely rose to her feet.
Exactly like the DMV. Munch found the visitor sheet on her own. She clicked her pen open and wrote in her name, phone number, time in, and room she was visiting. Before the clerk could say another word, Munch was out the door and running toward the classroom bungalow. She found room 310 and pulled the door open. Thirty faces turned her way. None was Jill’s.
A tall woman who had to be Mrs. Zimmer looked at Munch expectantly.
"Sorry to disturb you," Munch said, scanning the children.
"I’m looking for Jill Slokum."
"She seems to be absent today" Mrs. Zimmer said. "Or she’s tardy."
"I just dropped her off." The edges of the world turned razor sharp, all Munch’s senses ratcheted up a notch. "She should be here."
Mrs. Zimmer addressed her class. "Did anyone see Jill this morning?"
Rachel, the kid whom Munch had given a ride in her limo, raised her hand.
"Rachel," Mrs. Zimmer said.
"I saw her by the gate. She was with her sister. "
Chapter 21
Munch ran back to the parking lot, looking for any sign of the girls. If they had left in a car, there was no telling what direction they’d gone. She got in the Volvo and began circling the block, hoping to glimpse them. The clunking and shifting in the right front suspension was consistent now. Great. Why couldn’t the problem go back to phantom mode?
And why hadn’t she walked Jill to her room? Had Charlotte been by herself or acting under duress? Munch had had some experience with the Stockholm syndrome, the phenomenon whereby captives become brainwashed and end up assisting their captors. Could this have happened with Charlotte?
Why hadn’t Munch played hooky today as Rico had suggested? She felt those metaphorical waves lapping at her feet. The kids were in the water. W'hat could she do but go after them? Munch returned to the school. She hasn’t signed out so she went straight to the classroom.
Mrs. Zimmer looked up again. "Did you find her?"
Munch shook her head. "Can I ask Rachel a few questions?"
Unwilling Accomplice - Barbara Seranella Page 18