Mrs Jones

by William Cain

  Frank thinks she’s a little tipsy, which is fine with him. Grinning, he says, “Sure.”

  She hums the tune comically, in a low voice, and they both burst out laughing. “You’re not too bad! What made you decide to become a detective?” he asks.

  “Money. I needed to make a living,” she mutters. “Why didn’t you become a vet?”

  “Too much school. And I was great at math, so becoming a bean counter was a natural. Now I have my own business, and it’s successful. I employ around twenty people, one of them is my son. I’ll tell you a secret.” Addie becomes quiet, waiting. After a pause, she can see he’s reconsidering. Frank continues, “I never graduated college. You are the only person I ever told. There, I said it.”

  “Oh God, we’re bonding,” she says. “My worst coping mechanism is smoking. And my favorite sport is bowling. Yes, I’m a closet bowler!” she tells him, and she can also tell her speech is a little slurred.

  “If you use God’s name too much, he’ll actually show up,” Frank advises.

  Addie replies, “Sorry. You’re religious?”

  “I’m not that religious, but I do go to church every other week usually, if I like the pastor and the sermons. And I have a relationship with God. I was shamed into going to church when I read an article about a priest at my local catholic church, St. Teresa. He was called out because if parents didn’t attend weekly service, he wouldn’t allow their children to go to the parish school. He told the papers that if a family can’t find fifty minutes a week to give to God, then they don’t belong in that church. So, fifty minutes seemed pretty trivial to me, and I began to go more often,” he tells her.

  “I don’t even know when I’ve seen the inside of a church last,” she says sheepishly.

  “I use my hands when I talk,” Frank says playfully.

  “I can see that.” A gleam reflects in her eyes. “I guess you noticed I’m a little expressive myself.”

  “Yes, I saw. It’s cute,” he replies, referring to the faces she makes sometimes.

  “You’re damn right, it’s cute.”

  Their conversation flows naturally between them. They both feel at ease, telling each other about themselves, sharing life stories. Frank even tells her he was a bed wetter until he hit puberty. She tells him she stuttered through most of her childhood, and that her worst memory of that time wasn’t the teasing she had to take, but that her dad was a gambler. They nearly lost everything.

  Later, when they look around the restaurant, they find they’re the only ones left and it’s 11:30 at night. Addie tells Frank they need to go. Most things in Asheville shut down around 10. She apologizes to the owner, who tells her he was just going to leave them the keys. He kisses her goodbye, and Frank and Addie go to her car and, sober now, he drives away.

  At the Inn, Frank asks her to come in. She begs off and tells him she’ll see him tomorrow. Standing beside the driver’s door, he looks into her eyes and leans down to kiss her cheek, but makes a quick left and plants one on her lips.

  She responds freely, placing her hand on his cheek. It feels natural to both of them, and they’re both excited with this first kiss. They don’t even close their eyes.

  ◆◆◆

  The next day, she picks Frank up, and he sees she has a picnic basket. He’s already enjoying what today will bring. Addie tells him she made a fun lunch of fried chicken, German potato salad, and watermelon, which she knows is not entirely truthful because she’s probably the worst cook on earth. She hands him her keys and they drive off, heading south. They’re going to Dupont State Forest, where they’ll spend the day together. The area had heavy rains earlier in the week, and the waterfalls should be tremendously loud and impressive.

  Addie and Frank are both hoping to continue last night’s connection and soon find themselves talking animatedly. The trip to the falls is over quickly, and they eagerly explore the trails between the falls leading into the rolling hills. At times, they help each other up steep inclines, finding themselves reaching for each other and holding hands. When the spot they’ve been looking for is found, the food comes out and they share in the view of the vast mountain range below them. It makes one feel small and tall at the same time, and they stare knowingly into each other’s eyes, happily.

  The next two days are the happiest either one of them has had in a long, long time.

  Chapter 19 Helen

  September

  Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. Unknown

  Helen pulls the Porsche into a spot in the park. From a distance, she can see Mitch on a bench by the water. He can hear her approach, and he turns to see her exit the car and walk towards him. He’s becoming more afraid every day that Biggie’s alive, and every day Spadaro gets more pissed. He’s only a moment away from exploding, and whoever’s nearby will feel it. And that someone is Mitch.

  Helen takes a seat, “Hello, Mitch.” The woman has ice for blood. “What’s the word.”

  Mitch nervously tells her Spadaro is impatient. It’s been two months, and Biggie’s still alive. She answers back that he’s heavily protected, but something will give soon, and their problems will be over. She’s on it every day. Their guard will fall when they begin to relax, thinking they’re safe.

  “Anthony wants to bring in another cleaner,” he says. “He says you’re not up to it.”

  For the first time in a while, she looks at him directly and speaks softly but strongly, “That would be a bad idea. The more people that know about this, the more likely it’ll get out, and then the party’s over. For him, for you, for me.” She turns her head back to look at the water. “Battaglia has thousands of hands to use, and they all carry guns and follow his orders unquestioningly. They’ll give their lives for him.”

  “Anthony says you need to be replaced.” Helen interprets this as a threat; they mean to dispose of her.

  “Listen, you little shit,” she hisses, causing Mitch to wince. “Let me tell you how I and other people like me work. We all know each other. We have something like a union. It’s a private club. We don’t share information. We do as we’re told. And we protect each other. When you step on one of us, the reaction is instant. Do you really want ten professional killers showing up at your door?” Then she adds icily, “If you threaten me again, I’ll break your hands.

  “Tell that fat fuck Spadaro to do what he’s best at, masturbating, and not to screw this up.” With that, she stands up and walks away.

  Mitch watches her leave. Anthony’s not going to like this. She has got to be the scariest woman on the planet.

  “Holy shit.”

  Chapter 20 Addie

  September

  For the powerful, crimes are those that others commit. Noam Chomsky

  The desk phone rings, and Addie picks it up, “Detective Henson, Asheville 100 Court.”

  The voice on the other end is familiar. It’s one of her forensics guys. “Addie, Ronnie here, forensics found something.”

  She becomes excited, finally having a lead after so long. She motions to her partner Rob to pick up, and, when he does, she asks, “What is it, Ronnie?”

  “Battaglia wouldn’t let us have the victim’s, er, his wife’s, clothes. So, it took us a long time to find this very small piece of DNA. It’s a single strand of hair. It was found on the area rug in the foyer. It doesn’t belong to Elsie Battaglia or to Gennarro. Her DNA was sampled, and his is in the database.”

  “That could be anybody’s Ronnie.” Addie’s deflated. “That could be a visitor, and he gets a lot of them.”

  Ronnie proudly tells her, “This hair has blood on it. Elsie Battaglia’s blood.”

  Thinking quickly, she asks, “Any other blood on the rug that might have contaminated the hair?”

  “No. It was carried into that room by the killer.”

  “That is huge, Ronnie,” she practically shouts. She pauses and tells him, “Run it against the database and Helen Richter in particular. She’s Spadaro’s hitman. I hav
e it on good information she may be our guy.”

  Ronnie’s impressed, “Wow, how did you come across that?”

  “Another cleaner.”

  Chapter 21 Reggi

  October

  Poverty is not a crime, but it's better not to show it. Brazilian Proverb

  The house phone rings. Reggi picks it up.

  “Hi, Mom,” Frank says before she answers hello and asks who’s calling. “Just calling to check in and find out if you’re ok.”

  “Everything’s fine, Frank. Eddie was just here to bring out a new generator. The power goes out whenever there’s a bad storm. He’s going to have it installed next week.”

  “How’s he doing?” Frank asks.

  “Why don’t you call him yourself?” Reggi answers. “He is your brother-in-law,” she adds, chiding him.

  It just rolls right off Frank, “He doesn’t want that. If I talk to him and Charlotte more than once a year, it’s a lot. They’ve always distanced themselves from the entire family. They’re consumed with his side, and there’s really no more interest in reaching out to us. It’s just the way it is.”

  “Well, I wish you would just talk to him about his weight. He’s obese. It’s not healthy.”

  “Ed has a lot of health problems…high blood pressure, depression, eczema, he drinks too much…it goes on and on. The dinners he shares with Charlotte aren’t fattening, but he eats two or three servings,” Frank tells her. His cell is ringing and he takes it out of his pocket. He glances over at it. He beams; Adelaide is calling through. “That’s Adelaide calling me. I’ll call her back. Hang on.” He picks up the line and tells her he’s talking to his mommy, and then he returns to the call.

  “Frank, can I ask you something about Detective Henson? Is she black?”

  Frank just smiles and says sarcastically, “I don’t know, next time we’re having ice cream together I’ll ask her. Really, Mom, nobody cares about that stuff anymore. All you need to know is that she’s important to me. Next time you see her, don’t bring up the blacky-whitey thing. Behave yourself.” Now he’s the one doing the chiding. “How’s your boyfriend?”

  “Ken? He’s not my boyfriend. I’m a little too old for that. He asked me out back in September, and I told him no. But he kept calling me, and I knew he would stop soon, so I finally said yes. We’ve seen each other a lot since then.”

  Continuing, she tells him, “Get this, I think he noticed my belly fat because he got special permission for me to use the fitness room at the Heritage Hills Clubhouse. How is he? Well…he’s really nice to me. But he’s not too nice to some people, like people working in a restaurant…club staff…it’s embarrassing. You know, he’s rich so he feels entitled to treat people like they’re low class. He snaps his fingers for waiters. Stuff like that. I’ll break him of this habit if we stay together.”

  “Yeah, that’s not cool, Mom. How rich is this guy? When am I going to meet him?”

  “Soon, I hope. I think he’s worth a billion. He retired as the CFO from Amazon, so his stock options that he acquired over the past fifteen years made him a wealthy man. He tells me Amazon has hundreds of millionaires still working there, and retired. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “That’s insane, Mom.”

  “We might take a trip to his ranch in Wyoming. He tells me he wants to take me trail riding. Wouldn’t that be something? Your old mom on a horse?” She starts hooting loudly and ends it with a snort. “Sorry about that. Whew. Anyway, he has another bad habit. He drinks too much. After five o’clock he starts drinking, and by dinnertime, he’s pretty loaded.”

  “Oh, that’s not good. Every night?”

  “Pretty much. He took me down to Savannah to his beach house. Wow. I mean Frank, it’s palatial.”

  Surprised, Frank asks, “You took a trip with him already?”

  “Now Frank, I am seventy-nine now. I just had a birthday, not getting younger, you know. But if it makes you feel better, we stayed in separate rooms. Anyway, he got drunk one night and I went to bed. A little later he came to my door and opened it and looked in.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I looked at him and said ‘Ken, go to bed,’ and he did. He’s harmless.”

  “Great, now I have to worry about you. That is not good, Mom.”

  “Calm down, Frank. He’s trying hard to be a better person and conduct himself in a more mature—and sober—manner, so I’m giving him a chance. He’s harmless, and I can manage the situation. It’s under control.”

  Exasperated, Frank adds, “I hope so. You know what your grandson in Greenville would do if he hurt you. He’d drive right over and beat the living crap out him.”

  “Patrick would do no such thing,” she says emphatically.

  “You’re aggravating,” Frank tells her.

  “So are you. It’s fine, things are under control. He’s really nice to me. When he has too much to drink, I leave. I don’t want another John on my hands,” she says, referring to her first husband, Frank’s natural father. He was an abusive alcoholic, and she barely escaped alive. It was forty-five years ago. She’ll never forget it. “If we stay together, he’s got to stop drinking.”

  “Well, good luck. Ok, gotta go and call Adelaide. I have a meeting soon.” Frank tells his mother goodbye.

  He can’t get Adelaide out of his mind. And he’s fine with that.

  Chapter 22 Addie

  October

  In the end we discover that to love and let go can be the same thing. Jack Kornfield

  Addie first saw the message a few days ago. Since then, she’s been thinking a lot about her relationship with Frank. And his relationship with her. And his ex-wife. And his son. She has a meeting in a while and decides to make a call to Frank first. She needs to get this over with. She hasn’t returned his calls from the last two days. She’s been crying. She’s sad, what she has to do, but she thinks it’s the right thing. She’s made up her mind.

  Calling him, she’s not looking forward to this. He answers.

  “Hi, Adelaide! Where have you been? I’ve been crazy nervous when I couldn’t reach you.”

  She’s rolls her eyes, thinking, I told him to call me Addie a million times. Oh well, now’s not the time to get into that. She answers, “I’ve been busy, and there has been a lot on my mind. Sorry, Frank. It was rude of me, but I think you’ll understand.”

  Perplexed, Frank asks, “Understand what? Are you ok?”

  She knows he’s concerned, so she bluntly tells him, “I received a text from you. I’m pretty sure you meant to send it to Frédérica. Take a look at it.”

  Frank feels the hairs on his arm stand up. He opens his messages and sees what he sent to Addie,

  Frédérica, I need to see you.

  He speaks slowly and clearly to Addie, “This is not what it looks like, Adelaide. I need her to sign some papers about the business. We’ve been divorced for a while but she keeps putting me off.” Looking at the message again, he says, “I wondered why she didn’t get back to me. Please believe me. I don’t want my ex-wife back.”

  Addie is quiet for a moment and then tells him, sadly, “That’s what I thought, too. I know you don’t want her back. But getting the text started me thinking,” she starts to cry softly, her voice is trembling, “I’m not a kid anymore. It’s important to me that I make good decisions. Let’s face it, we really don’t know each other. You don’t know me. People have a lot of baggage to bear at our age.”

  Frank interrupts her, “I…I know we’re just beginning. Did I do something wrong? What did I do wrong?” He’s getting upset and losing his train of thought.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re moving fast. And we’re separated by one thousand miles. You have a life and roots in New York. I have roots here. The odds of this panning out are really low. We’re just headed for disappointment. That’s what I’m afraid of. Don’t you feel the same way?”

  He’s quiet, and she says, “Sometimes people need to be apart to find they real
ly do want each other. They need time to think. There are a lot of things to consider. Frank, are you there?”

  Frank answers her, and she can read the sadness with every word he speaks, “I spent time with you, the best time I’ve spent with someone else…ever. You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

  And now it’s Addie’s turn to interrupt, “And then there’s your son, Frank. It is possible you will want your family made whole again, in some way. And I’ll be in the way.”

  “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me,” Frank says. He’s miserable.

  Addie’s sorry she started this, but she thinks it’s for the best, “Frank, I think we should cool things down. Not see each other for a while.”

  Frank is getting choked up, “I haven’t enjoyed being with anyone the way I am with you. I know you’re developing feelings for me, too. Adelaide, please don’t do this. Let me come down and let’s talk it over. Don’t make any decisions until we do that. I’ll take the first flight out tomorrow.”

  “I have the same feelings you do, you big lug. But I made the decision, Frank. I want to take a break and give us time to make sure it’s the right thing.”

  There’s a long pause, and she can hear Frank breathing deeply, “Frank?”

  When he speaks, she can tell his heart is breaking, and she doesn’t want it to end like this.

  “Adelaide, please don’t do this.”

  “It’s the right thing for the moment. I have a meeting. I have to go. Goodbye, Frank.” She hangs up.

  They’re a thousand miles apart, two people that care for each other. And both are crying with their heads in their hands.