Monday Girl's Revenge

by David A. Thyfault

  Delores took the afternoon off, donned some blue jeans and a short-sleeved pullover sweater, and arrived at the school just before two. Inside, she immediately noticed her yellow poster on the entrance wall along with several others, all of which boasted of the cupcake decorating party that was to be in the cafeteria right after school.

  “I’m Detective Sanchez,” she said to the receptionist. “I’m supposed to meet Mrs. Carbone.”

  The grin on the receptionist’s face was a little friendlier than Delores expected. “Oh, yes, we’ve heard all about you. Go ahead.”

  As Delores wandered toward the cafeteria she noticed poster after poster, all with an A+, promoting the event. There had to be a spot in heaven for a guy who could inspire kids like that.

  In the cafeteria, a handful of adults were busy taping balloons, crepe paper and additional posters to the walls. “There she is,” Mrs. Carbone said, pointing to Delores. “C’mon back. You can help in the kitchen.”

  “I didn’t expect to see so many helpers,” Delores said as she smiled her way past the other workers.

  “You don’t know the half of it. One of the ladies is from the office. The others are parents.” She grinned. “We’re going to need every one of them.”

  “Why? Carlton and I should be able to handle—”

  Mrs. Carbone waved off the comment. “It’s been a wildfire around here. When word of a cupcake party got out, all sorts of people wanted to come. We even heard from the superintendent’s office. She’s sending over a representative to check it out.”

  “Oh my gosh, Mr. Fayes didn’t say anything to me about all of that.”

  “Course not. He said you were tied up on that big case—congratulations, by the way.”

  “Oh. Thank you, but I was just doing my job.”

  “We’re expecting somewhere around 50-60 people and every one of them is supposed to make two cupcakes. Mr. Fayes calls one a Me Cake; the other one is a Friend Cake to give to somebody else. It’s about the pleasure of doing nice things for others.”

  Delores’s eyes widened. “What a wonderful idea.”

  “If you’d like, you can help me whip up the batter. We’re also making an extra fifty cupcakes, just in case.”

  “Gladly. Where do I start?”

  For the next hour Delores traded niceties with the helpers and mixed batter, cooked cupcakes and spread decorating utensils among the tables. Then for the final twenty minutes Mrs. Carbone showed everybody how to use the icing tubes so they could pass the information along to the kids when the time was right. “We’d like one adult at each table,” Mrs. Carbone said. “Don’t expect a lot, artistically. Our objective is merely to show these kids that school and learning and trying new things can be fun.”

  Delores nodded. That was precisely what she’d hoped for the first day she met Carlton Fayes.

  As the final bell approached, it appeared as if nearly everything was ready. “Don’t worry about the loose ends,” Mrs. Carbone said. “You guys just enjoy yourselves and spread that attitude to the children.”

  It occurred to Delores that Mrs. Carbone was actually friendlier than she originally seemed.

  By the time the final bell went off the whiff of chocolate cupcakes filled the room. Parents and students worked their way into the cafeteria. Some sniffed at the air. Others took seats. A couple boys grabbed the icing tubes and pretended they were laser pointers. Then Carlton Fayes walked in.

  He deserved to make a grand entrance for all he’d accomplished but instead he simply eased in, apparently leaving the others to enjoy their moments. He moved quickly to Delores. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Me too.” She said, tempted to kiss him on the cheek.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this function going.” Carlton moved close to the kitchen and banged at the bottom of an aluminum pot with a large cooking spoon. “Wow!” he said in an outside voice. “We had no idea there would be so many of you here today. It’s so good to see you all. Before we start decorating I’d like to thank Mrs. Carbone and everybody who volunteered for the various jobs. Let’s all give each other a hand.” After the applause died down, he resumed. “Okay, the table captains will show you what to do. We’ll have a short hour to ice up our cakes before we call it a day. So everybody have a good time and don’t be afraid to ask questions.”

  After the announcements, Delores took a captain role at a table facing Carlton, who sat at the next table over facing her. She showed the kids how to squeeze the icing tubes and spread the icing evenly, all along trading glances with Carlton and enjoying each new finished cupcake at her table. Icing globs found faces, hair and the floor. She hadn’t heard that much giggling and laughing in a long time. She silently thanked Dr. Moreno.

  This was precisely the type of activity Delores needed to remind her that life is not all about bad guys and their victims. Then Carlton rose and Delores glanced at the clock. It seemed like mere minutes had passed but the hour was nearly over. He clanked on the pan again. Some whines of regret indicated that nearly everybody else was enjoying themselves as much as Delores was.

  “Okay, everybody,” Carlton said once the noise subsided. “I don’t know about you people, but I’ve had a wonderful time. Before we start cleaning up we’ve got one more exercise and this should be the most enjoyable part of our afternoon.”

  Kids quieted and looked his way as if it were difficult to believe that anything else could enhance the fun.

  “This entire project was the brainchild of Detective Sanchez over there, but there’s a little more you should know about her. Not long ago, she arrested two very bad men and sent them to jail. This is the kind of thing she does every day. Then in between all of her dangerous work she came to our school, just to do something nice for all of us. Why don’t we show her how much we appreciate her and all these cupcakes?”

  Carlton led the applause while Delores humbly rose and mouthed several thank yous to her new friends.

  “Now, for that other exercise I spoke of,” Carlton went on. “In a minute we’re going to give away our Friend Cakes. To start things off, I’m going to give my Friend Cake to Detective Sanchez.” He showed his cupcake to the kids. “As you can see, I put a big gold star on top.” He walked over to Delores and handed her the cupcake.

  She nodded, and mouthed another thank you.

  Almost as if she’d been cued, Principal Haley rose and gave her Friend Cake to Carlton Fayes, saying, “You bring out the best in us.”

  Just then the janitor joined the group and Mrs. Carbone grabbed one of the spare cakes and gave it to him. “Nobody ever thanks you, but you keep our school clean and we appreciate that.”

  “Okay, everybody,” Carlton said. “You get the idea. Let’s take a few minutes to share our good feelings.”

  The janitor took a bite out of his cake and grinned while students hurried around the room handing cupcakes back and forth. Carlton nudged Delores toward the batch of extra cupcakes. “Help me make sure every student gets at least one extra cupcake.”

  Delores reached for the tray but was interrupted. “Here, this is for you,” a young girl who appeared to be about seven said as she handed Delores a cake covered in red, white and blue icing. “My mom says the police are heroes.”

  “Take mine too,” one of the boys said handing a simple white-covered cake to her. “I’m not very creative.”

  “It reminds me of a fluffy cloud,” Delores said. “I love it just the way it is.”

  Before she knew what happened, Delores had a small stack of Friend Cakes in front of her and Carlton had drifted across the room where he was busy handing out the extra cupcakes and making everybody feel special. She took a deep breath and knew this was precisely the lesson Dr. Moreno wanted her to learn. This truly was an extravaganza.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  The days immediately following the City Council meeting left Stump awash in mixed feelings. While he was pleased with himself for solving Mr. Kraft’s murder,
and proving that Dixon Browne raped Maria’s mama, and identifying a pathway for low-income people to live in safer homes, there was also a new set of issues tormenting him.

  Even though Mr. Kraft’s remaining days would have become more and more miserable due to his illness, it saddened Stump to lose one of the most influential men he’d ever met.

  Then there was Juanita and Manuel Alvarado. They too were decent people. In a way Manuel was a compassionate man for sparing Mr. Kraft from a gruesome death. But now Manuel was locked up and Juanita had to raise their daughter without him.

  All of this left Stump wondering what would happen to Maria and her mama and all the others at Cal-Vista now that the most influential people who worked there were long gone.

  In addition Stump was extremely concerned about his schoolwork. He’d cut so many classes that the only way he could expect to pass the tenth grade was to do well on his finals. He’d been studying the best he could and finally took all his tests, but he knew he didn’t do all that well and Myles had already warned him that there would be consequences if his grades didn’t improve.

  Now it was all over and all he could do was wait for the results to come in the mail. In the meantime he had no job, so he went home to check on Grandma Pauline and Katherine the caregiver.

  Once at his apartment, Stump was surprised to see Myles’s truck in the parking lot. “What are you doing here?” Stump asked when he first saw Myles in the living room. “Is everybody okay?”

  “Couldn’t be much better,” Myles said. “The women are in the kitchen putting a puzzle together. I came home a little early because I have a congratulatory gift for you.”

  “Really? Rad. What is it?”

  “It’s out in the truck, wrapped in white.” Myles tossed Stump his keys. “Go get it.”

  “Okay.” As Stump hurried to Myles’s truck, he thought about their history. Sometimes Myles was a hard ass, but overall he was a nice guy. After all, the dude adopted Stump when Stump was at his all-time low. Myles deserved big cred for that. But when it came to gift giving, Myles was a bit of a tightwad.

  Underneath the carport, he opened the truck door and glanced around. There was no gift in sight. He looked in the glove box and behind the seat, but nothing. He stepped back outside, checked the truck’s bed. There was no gift of any type, wrapped or otherwise. Bummer. He returned to the apartment. “Somebody must have stolen it. There’s nothing out there.”

  “Oh, really,” Myles said. “Sometimes you look right at things, like your dirty underwear on the floor, and just don’t see them. You’d better go look again. It’s definitely out there.”

  “I looked pretty good. Where is it exactly?”

  Myles sighed. “For crying out loud, Stump. I guess I have to do it myself.” Stump watched from the picture window as Myles hurried out to the truck, stuck his head in the cab and bolted right back. “It’s there, alright. Just like I said. Damn thing was right under your nose.”

  “Under my nose? But you said it was under the roof.”

  Myles shook his head. “If it’s under one, it’s under the other.” Myles pointed out the window. “In fact, I can see some of the wrapping from here.”

  Stump peeked again. Then, “You sure you ain’t been drinking?”

  Myles grinned and pointed off to the side of the lot. “Let me make this easier. See that shiny SUV over there? The black one with the luggage rack.”

  Stump looked. “Yeah. So?”

  “Who would need a vehicle like that?”

  “I dunno, maybe a family or somebody whose car wore out.”

  “What about a family that got bigger?”

  “Sure. A mom has a baby and needs a bigger car. So what. What’s that got to do with what we were talking about?”

  “New babies aren’t the only way a family grows,” Myles said before chin-pointing toward Grandma Pauline.

  Stump looked at Grandma Pauline, then studied Myles and finally it hit him. “No shit? You bought new wheels. Can I drive it?”

  Myles nodded. “Just picked it up a couple hours ago, but that meant I needed to do something with my old truck. What color would you say it is?”

  Stump’s eyes shot to the old truck again, then back to Myles, who wore a shit-eating grin. “It’s all yours, and this time you don’t have to pay me back.”

  Stunned, Stump’s smile stretched all across his face. “No shit?”

  “You boys shouldn’t use words like that,” Grandma Pauline said from the other room.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” Myles added, “and almost didn’t do it after you did so many sneaky things without telling me or the other detectives. But then I looked in my mirror. Even though I specialize in other types of crimes, I knew if I had been in your shoes I probably would have done the exact same thing. It doesn’t make it right, but at least I understand why you did it. I filled the tank, but you have to buy your own insurance and gas from here on out. That fair?”

  “Hell, yes, that’s fair. Thanks a lot, Myles.” Stump reached out for a handshake, but Myles pushed Stump’s hand aside and grabbed him.

  “We can hug this time,” he said.

  Stump wasn’t accustomed to hugging men, but it felt pretty darn good...for a couple seconds. He pulled away. “I gotta show Maria.”

  “Speaking of Maria,” Myles said, “you’ve been seeing an awfully lot of her lately, but you must be ashamed of your grandma and me because you haven’t made any attempt to introduce us. Would it kill you to bring her and her mother around for dinner sometime soon?”

  “I can’t eat that much.”

  Stump looked at Grandma Pauline and back at Myles. “I’d rather we all go to a restaurant because Grandma Pauline shares her apple pie with me.”

  “Okay then,” Myles said while nodding. “Go ahead and see if you can set something up. And on that other matter, just so we understand each other, there’ll be no more messing up, or I’ll make you forfeit your keys. I really mean it. Is that clear?”

  “No problem. There won’t be any more troubles. I promise.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you after my AA meeting tonight.”

  Stump’s heart throbbed as he rushed outside and leapt into his very own brand-new, super-cool pick-up truck.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  In his new truck, Stump immediately replaced the stupid country music station with one more worthy of high volume and cranked it all the way up. He sat tall and headed for Cal-Vista and Maria.

  When he arrived, head bobbing, he found Maria sitting by the pool with tear tracks running down her cheeks. “Hi. What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “Everything.”

  “Oh, really? I thought you’d be happy, now that the dragon has been slain.”

  “Mama lied to me.”

  “I know. But now we don’t need the DNA results for the proof.”

  Maria shook her head. “That’s not it. She’s never told me anything about me having an aunt.”

  “Oh, that. It was a surprise to me too. But she must have had a good reason. Did she explain it to you?”

  “No. I just ran away. Now she’s crying. She said something about being poorer than ever.”

  Stump recalled how worried his own mom used to get when she said things like that. “I know how she might get some money.”

  Maria’s face lit up. “You do? How?”

  “That college fund we talked about. After the DNA test proves—”

  “You never give up, do you?”

  “I checked the website this morning. The results are supposed to come out later today. Then you’ll be one step closer to the money. Maybe she’ll feel better and tell you the truth about everything.”

  “I keep telling you that’s not possible; therefore there won’t be any money for me or Mama.”

  “But Dixon admitted it in his notebook. Let’s at least go talk to her.”

  Maria sighed. “Okay, if it’ll shut you up, but don’t blame me if she throws you out of
our apartment.”

  Minutes later Stump and Maria entered her apartment where Mrs. Quintana was huddled on the couch, her eyes red, her face blotchy. A trashcan full of crumpled tissues was near her feet.

  Stump sat next to her. “Hello, Mrs. Quintana. Maria said you’ve been pretty sad since Dixon was arrested. I’m sorry I made you feel bad.”

  She sniffled. “It’s not because of him. I don’t know how we’re going to pay our bills.”

  “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. I know you didn’t want Maria to know that Dixon is her real papa and that he has hidden some money for her that—”

  Mrs. Quintana waved Stump off and glared at the floor. “He wasn’t Maria’s daddy.”

  “See!” Maria said. “What did I tell you?”

  Mrs. Quintana blew her nose, and then looked at Maria. “I guess you deserve to know everything now.”

  Maria looked somber.

  “Your daddy was exactly who I told you he was. His name was Eduardo. He brought me up here from Mexico when the drug wars reached our town. He stayed with me for a couple weeks and then he went back to get his mama and brother.”

  Maria folded her arms across her chest, rolled her head toward Stump. “See.”

  Stump wasn’t buying it. Dixon’s notes were more believable. It sounded as if Stump’s only means to convince Maria of the truth was the same as before: wait for the DNA results.

  Mrs. Quintana lowered her head. “As soon as Eduardo left, Dixon showed interest in me, but I said no. The next week I got the message that bad men killed your daddy’s family and ours too.”

  “Oh, my God.” Maria wedged herself next to her mama.

  “A few weeks later I realized I was pregnant. I had no way to support us. I had to think of something.” She looked deep into Maria’s eyes and then hung her head and wept. “I let Dixon have me—several times.” She wiped at her tears. “Then a couple months later I told him he got me pregnant so he’d pay our bills.”

  Maria gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “But Mama, that was dishonest.”