Seconds later the lady returned. “Nope. Sorry. I have no listing for anyplace named Palmdale. Is it near a bigger city?”
“Yes. It’s a suburb of Los Angeles.”
“Oh. That’s different. Hang on. Okay, here it is. Yes, it looks like Palmdale qualifies under the L.A. program.”
Stump’s heart damn near jumped through his chest. “No kidding. What all will you do?”
“Practically anything that improves safety or assures energy savings. Furnaces, painting, windows, insulation. You name it. Don’t you have a lot of stucco homes out there?”
“Yes. Old ones.”
“A lot of those can use new roofs and gutters and air conditioning. We can do all of it if the home owner qualifies.”
Good God, this was too good to be true. “What do we have to do to qualify?”
“How much money do you earn?”
“It’s not for me. It’s for my neighbors. Some of them are pretty poor.”
“Well, each person will have to fill out their own application, but it’s quick and easy to qualify. I can email some information.”
“I’m trying to help a whole neighborhood. Is that too big for you?”
“Not really. We complete an average of 10,000 homes every year.”
“Do you provide carpenters and electricians?”
“No. No. We work with the community to get volunteers, but we have nearly a million of them. The only thing you have to worry about is the availability of the funds. Our grants usually dry up pretty fast. How soon would you need the funds?”
“I don’t know yet—maybe a month or two.”
“Well. That’s cutting it pretty close, but if you can get the applications in within a couple weeks, I can put you on the list.”
“I think I can do that.”
“Before you go, there’s another program in your area you might be interested in. It’s called Neighborhood Improvement Program. It offers free painting, landscaping, driveway work, roofs and trash removal, but there’s a limit of six thousand dollars per household. Would you like me to send you a link?”
“Yes, but I can’t deal with it right now. I’ll call you back later.” He sprang to his feet. Grandma Pauline was correct. Everything fit. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you, Grandma.” He sat back down and made another call.
“Danielle Delgado here.”
“Hello, Ms. Delgado, This is Stump. Do you remember me?” His words were flying off his tongue at nearly twice their usual pace.
“Of course I do, Stump. You sound excited. What’s up?”
“You have to get me on the City Council agenda tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry Stump, but we discussed this previously. They won’t reschedule you because of what happened last time. Besides, it’s way beyond the deadline and they have a full docket. They’re just not going to do it.”
“But they have to. I’ve got fantastic news. I can get those unsafe houses fixed for free.”
“It doesn’t really matter now. They’ve printed up the agenda already and they have too much to do. Besides, the neighbors made it clear that they didn’t want any part of a program like that. The council members want to get re-elected. They’re not going to fight that battle.”
“But there are government programs, with money for just what we need. You can look it up on the internet.”
“That might have helped before, but the Council simply doesn’t have the time or inclination to discuss the project with you right now. It’s bad timing.”
“But they have to. If we don’t get it done now the money will dry up. We’ve got to try. Can’t you call the Mayor or at least Mrs. Crumpler? Maybe they’ll reconsider.”
She sighed. “I doubt it’ll work, but I guess I could put you on hold and call Mrs. Crumpler on the other line. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Thank you, I’ll wait.” With his iPhone glued to his ear, Stump flushed the empty stool out of habit. He moved into the sink area and paced until finally he heard the click.
“I’m back. Mrs. Crumpler said it’s impossible.”
“Didn’t you tell her it’s important?”
“Everything is important to somebody, Stump, but the Mayor’s going to give an end-of-term summary and the schedule is too full. She wouldn’t even consider it. The matter is closed. Maybe you can try again when the next term begins.”
“That won’t work. I’d have to be twenty-one to get on the agenda and the grant money will be gone. I’ve got to do it now.”
“I’m really sorry, Stump. I tried, but they’re definitely not going to budge.”
The finality in her tone convinced him he was shit-out-of-luck. “Yeah. Right. Everybody is always sorry.” Angry and frustrated, Stump went to his last two classes but didn’t pay attention. Why bother? His grades were going to stink anyway. Eventually the bell rang and he climbed on Ol’ Ug’ and pedaled to Cal-Vista to be with Maria.
When he pulled into the lot and then the bike rack, he observed an ugly mark near the top of the fence that he’d painted not long ago. Somebody must have parked near the fence, then tried to pitch something over the top and into the Connors’s dumpster on the other side. It reminded him of the times when his mom would get upset with him because he’d come home and make messes without even noticing she’d just cleaned the house.
He slumped his way into the courtyard where Maria was at one of the picnic tables. “Hi,” she said. “You look sad. What’s wrong?”
”Everything. I’m a loser. People die. I can’t do anything about it.” He sat and plopped his elbows on the table. “I’m so far behind at school, Myles is gonna kill me. My life sucks.”
“Would you like to go to my place and watch some TV? Mama might make us some popcorn.”
“Not in the mood for TV.”
“What about a walk? We had fun the last time.”
“Naw. Ain’t in the mood for that neither.”
“How about an ice cream cone? Mama might give me enough so we could split one.”
“Nothing sounds good right now.”
She patted his arm. “Well, you still have Mama and me, and I love you. That has to count for something.”
“Yeah. I know, but Mr. Kraft’s dead and Dixon is still running around. Just doesn’t seem fair.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better when he goes to jail.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen either.”
“Why not? Everybody knows he did it.”
“Not really.”
“Why not? He’s the only one who had anything to gain by killing that nice man. He had to do it.”
Stump sighed. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course. Why?”
He looked over his shoulder. “I figured out that Dixon isn’t the killer. Mr. Kraft was killed when Dixon was following you and me. I’m going to have to tell the cops.”
“How do you know that?”
“The cops asked me where I was between seven-thirty and eight-thirty. They must have determined that was the time of death. But Dixon was following you and me at that time.”
She slapped her hand over her lips. “We don’t have to say anything. He deserves what he gets.”
“I thought about that, but if we get caught withholding evidence everything will be worse. I don’t think we have much choice.” He rose. “I’m really sorry, but I think I’d better just go home. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Some twenty minutes later, at home, Stump dragged his sorry ass into the living room and sagged onto the couch next to Grandma Pauline, who was watching reruns of “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” He sighed. “This sucks.”
“You want to change the channel?” she asked.
“It’s not that. Everything is going wrong and I can’t do anything about it.”
Grandma Pauline tapped the back of his hand. “The interesting boys always h
ave important things to do.”
Stump smiled slightly. “You know something, Grandma? You must have been a great teacher. You know what to say to make people feel better. You’re pretty smart too. You knew about your neighbors’ windows; and before that you taught me about party lines on telephones and Jack Ruby.”
She tilted her head. “Jack Ruby? Sounds familiar. Was he one of my students?”
“No, he was just somebody else you knew about.”
She pointed her finger to her head. “My noggin’ isn’t what it use to be.”
Stump held her hand. “You’re still a smart woman.” He laid his head on her shoulder. “You make me miss my mom.”
She wrapped her arm around him. “Would you like to go to the nurse’s office?”
If only he could.
Chapter Seventy-Five
After another restless night, Stump forced himself to get to school, but he simply couldn’t concentrate on his subjects with so many loose ends. It would have been easier if he didn’t have to clear Dixon, who was essentially free as a bird and there was no telling who would take over at Cal-Vista. Mr. Kraft’s family might just leave Dixon in charge. That would make everything worse.
Then there was the unresolved DNA matter and the last City Council meeting. It was just a matter of time before somebody else would have a bad accident. That would be his fault too.
Frustrated like never before, he considered doing something drastic, such as dropping out, or getting his tongue pierced or getting a tattoo, but he wasn’t old enough to do anything cool without permission and Myles was always a buzz kill.
At lunchtime he grabbed a tray of gross school food and sulked into a quiet spot near the corner of the cafeteria. As he picked around the edges, James showed up.
“You better not sit here,” Stump said. ”I’m a jinx.”
James set his tray on the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mr. Kraft’s death was my fault. Everything was fine around there until I got that job.”
“Yeah, that’s a downer.” James nibbled at a bite of the greyish substance the school called chicken. “There’s never any justice for guys like us.”
“I finally got to the point where I could hang Dixon without bringing attention to Maria’s mama, but then I figured out he didn’t do it.”
“Maybe you made a mistake?”
“Naw. They got the time of death pinned down. The dude was following me and Maria when it happened. He couldn’t have got back there in time.”
James gnawed another chunk off his drumstick, leaned forward and whispered. “If you’re the only ones who know, why not keep your mouths shut?”
Stump smirked. “Trust me. We talked about that. All I can do is let the bastard squirm for a day or two before we clear him.”
“Good for you, Dude. At least clamp down on his balls while you’ve got them in a vice.”
Stump sighed. “That’s not all I’ve messed up. I finally found a program that would help everybody in my old neighborhood, but the City Council won’t even let me in the damn room to tell them about it. Do you think I’d look good with pierced ears?”
“Yeah,” James said enthusiastically. “Get those big barrel-shaped ones. I hear they whistle when the wind blows through them.”
Stump smiled.
“It’s another justice problem, Dude,” James said, pointing his drumstick Stump’s way. “You played it straight. Did what you were supposed to do, but those big-government types only listen to old rich dudes.”
Stump nodded and then paused. His body froze before his eyes zeroed in on James. “Say that again.”
James tilted his head. “I said people listen to rich dudes.”
“And that was brilliant,” Stump blurted as he jumped to his feet. “Loan me your keys. I need your car.”
“What did I say? What about school?”
“I’ll deal with that later. Now give me your keys.”
“No way. I’m going with you.” James took another big bite of his chicken and threw the bone in a trashcan as he and Stump rushed out the cafeteria door.
Suddenly, Stump stopped just as abruptly as he’d risen a few seconds earlier, causing James to bounce into Stump’s back. “What the hell you doing, Dude?” James asked.
“You threw your bone in there.”
“Of course I did. What else would I do with it?”
“It was the closest trashcan, but Manuel didn’t do that and now I think I know why not.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Holy shit, Dude. This is big, but we gotta hurry.”
“Okay, but let me go first in case you decide to stop again.”
They rushed to James’s car. “You drive,” Stump said. “I gotta make a couple calls. I just hope we’re not too late.”
“Gotcha. Where to?”
“Cal-Vista,” Stump said as he punched in his first number. Then, “Hello, can I talk to Mr. Irv Wedlock? My name’s Neal Randolph. He knows me.”
Stump listened to the receptionist, then said, “Okay then. Would you have him call me back as soon as possible? I have a big, big scoop for him, but he has to hurry.”
James turned his head toward Stump. Minutes later they parked near the back of the Cal-Vista lot. “C’mon. Follow me,” Stump said as he rushed into the courtyard and then up the sidewalk. “Please be there. Please be there.”
A couple dozen more steps and Stump stopped at a full trashcan. “This is it.”
“What’s going on, Dude?”
Stump looked around the courtyard again before he grabbed a loose piece of paper and dug into the can, past the top items, “I got it,” he said, pulling out what he wanted.
“A greasy chicken box?”
“It’s KFC,” Stump said. “I got the idea when we were in the cafeteria and you threw your bone out. Why was he on this side of the complex?”
“Who? You lost me, Dude.”
“I’ll explain it later, but this is evidence. We gotta put it in your trunk.”
James shook his head. “Whatever.”
They hustled right back to James’s car and stashed the trash, after which Stump quickly closed the trunk. “Now I gotta talk to Mr. Connors. Hurry.”
“You’re weird, Dude. You know that?” James said as they rushed around the fence.
Mrs. Connors was out front pulling weeds. “Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Connors,” Stump said, breathing briskly, “but I need to ask Mr. Connors a big, big favor.”
“He’s inside. If I let you in, will you pull this old root out of the ground? You boys are a lot stronger than me.”
“Sure,” Stump said as he grabbed hold of an old vine root of some kind and yanked it out of the ground so hard he almost fell backwards.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her forehead. “We’re getting too old to do all this work.” She pointed inside. “My husband is downstairs.”
Seconds later, Stump and James found Mr. Connors in the laundry room. “Hi, Stump. How’s the investigation going?”
“They’re not done yet, but it looks like Dixon is innocent.”
Mr. Connors shrugged. “These things can take a while. What can I do for you? You looking for that job, ’cause—”
“Tonight is my last chance to get City Council to help people get their homes fixed up.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember you talking about that. I thought they said they couldn’t help you.”
“They did, but I found two programs where the residents can get grants for the money they need, and I don’t want to give up.”
Mr. Connors nodded. “So why are you telling me all this?”
“If I bring a couple adults to the meeting, especially if one of them has experience with housing issues, I would have a lot more credibility.” Stump wrote some notes on a piece of paper. “These are the names of the programs I mentioned and the people who are in charge of them, along with their numbers. It would mean a lot to me if you’d call them and lear
n as much about the programs as possible, then come to the meeting and tell the council members what you found out.”
“Me?” he took the paper looked it over. “You really think I can help?“
“You’re the only person I know who they could relate to.”
Mr. Connors looked at James and then back to Stump. “Well, I suppose I could do that for you. It’d be nice to see something good happen to somebody around here for a change.”
“Thanks, Mr. Connors. You always try to do the right thing.“
Mr. Connors nodded. “My offer still stands, you know. If things don’t work out over there, you can always work for me.”
“I might be getting back to you on that, but I gotta go now.” Stump turned to James. “Hurry.”
As they returned to James’s car, Stump saw a blackbird land on the fence at the back of the lot near that ugly scar that somebody made in his paint job. It was as if he’d been slapped in the face. His mind raced to answer a string of questions as fast as they entered his head. He pointed toward the bird. “Dude! We gotta go back over there, and look in Mr. Connors’s dumpster.”
“But we just came from there. Why don’t you make up your mind?”
“C’mon, Dude. This is important.”
Minutes later, “Son-of-a-bitch,” Stump said, knee-deep in Mr. Connors’s trash dumpster. “Just as I thought.”
“What’d you find?” James asked.
Stump wrapped a piece of paper around a four-foot long piece of wood. “This.” He said pulling it out. “Don’t touch it.”
James pulled his hand back as if he was avoiding an electrical shock. “What is it?”
“Just the murder weapon. That’s all.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
As excited as he’d been in a long time, Stump climbed out of Mr. Connors’s dumpster and examined the board he’d just found. “I knew it,” he said to James, “Put it in your trunk. I gotta talk to Maria’s mama before Maria gets home.”
“Next door again? Wait a minute, Dude. Slow down. You’re driving me nuts. Who did it?”
“Manuel. I’ll tell you all about it later,” Stump said over his shoulder as he rushed off. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, and we’ll probably go next door again.”
Monday Girl's Revenge Page 31