The Price of Candy

by Rod Hoisington

  “Is there anything you need right now? Can I make a run over to the courthouse for you or anything?”

  “Thanks, Sandy. The walk over to the courthouse does get longer every year. No, I’m fine. Anything else for you?”

  “You can tell me what Abby and Toby are up to and why Jamie happened to go missing.” She snapped the printout of names onto the clipboard with the blank check face down on top. “Maybe you know this. Moran mentioned the police found money when they searched Abby’s house after the shooting. Do you happen to know how much?”

  “Ten thousand cash is the word around the courthouse.”

  “Geez, I never dreamed it was that much. Abby and Toby are definitely into something. How would those two characters get hold of that much cash legally?”

  She got in her Miata and punched the first address into her GPS. It felt good being out in the field people-finding again. Locating conspirators and witnesses was what her old job in Philly paid her to do and she was good at it. This time it was different. This time she was the subject of her own investigation. This was personal.

  Her GPS indicated the first named felon on the list was north of town. At the third stoplight heading north on US 1 she noticed the white Toyota SUV following her.

  She took a sharp right turn to convince herself, and indeed the SUV turned with her. Her first impulse was to speed up, but at that point she was interested in who it might be. Her safety didn’t seem a real concern there in the bright Florida sunshine. She pulled over to the curb.

  The SUV driver stopped in the lane. Then he realized he’d been spotted and pulled over behind her. Her convertible’s top was rarely up but fortunately, it was that day. Her doors were locked, but she pushed the lock button to hear that satisfying click again to be sure. She kept the car in gear and watched in the mirror as the driver walked up to her car. A nice height, slender, and about her age. If he lost that ridiculous baseball cap, he might even look appealing. He appeared far from menacing, more like a tourist in her opinion.

  As he came up to her car she said, “You were following me.”

  “Damn right I was.”

  That didn’t come out as rough as he intended. He didn’t appear as though he wanted to be angry. She lowered her window. “And?”

  “You’re the one who’s causing all the commotion!”

  “My grandmother used to say commotion. She’d say, what in tarnation is all that commotion? Unfortunately, I’m the only one who is causing a commotion about Jamie missing. Why don’t you stop yelling long enough to introduce yourself? I’m Sandy Reid. I guess you’re already aware of that.”

  “Kevin Olin. You phoned me and said she was missing.”

  “That’s right.” Sandy started frowning. “Hey, I phoned you late yesterday. How’d you get down here so fast? Where were you when you answered my call?”

  “At home, in Athens.”

  She had a disturbing thought. “I don’t think you could drive down here that fast. Maybe you were already here when I phoned. Maybe you already knew your daughter was missing. Maybe you already know everything.”

  “What are you accusing me of? I leave my house early this morning. I drive down here and find out you’re the problem.”

  “You must have friends and family around here, you lived here at one time. You must know people who would take in Jamie for a while. Look, if you have her, tell me now.”

  “Why would I take my own daughter?”

  “Maybe it’s a custody battle. Maybe you know what’s going on and it’s to protect her.”

  “So if I’m guilty of all that then I’m a bad father?”

  “Considering your ex, it probably means you’re a good father. If you snatched her, I think it’s great. Your secret is safe. Just tell me so I can start sleeping at night and I’ll stop leaning on the city and county police.

  “Look, all I have to say to you is back off, get uninvolved. And stay away from me.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry...I’m pleased you came down. You sound like an okay guy. How did you find me?”

  “Abby said she once phoned you at that lawyer’s office. I followed you from there.”

  “You could have just walked in and said hello.”

  “You’re not to be trusted, according to her. You started the entire problem. Everything was fine until you showed up.”

  “Hey, if Abby said that, it must be so. Your ex-wife’s judgment is pretty reliable, huh? I hadn’t noticed. Yes, I’m a troublemaker. Just like those pesky police who are always nosing around bothering criminals.”

  “But you’re responsible for Jamie being missing. You talked to her and got her involved.”

  “I talked to her to help. This mess started when Abby shot Toby. That would have happened without me being around.”

  “She’s says you’re not police and you’ve nothing to do with anything and no business sticking your nose in.”

  “That was before I met your daughter. Someone has to look out for her. You and your ex certainly aren’t doing it. Sounds as if you’re feeling guilty for not being down here for her.”

  “That’s not fair. I’m down here twice a month. More often when the turtles are active. I wanted full custody but didn’t get it.”

  “The turtles?”

  “You’ve never gone to a moonlit beach to watch one of those prehistoric sea turtles nesting, or baby turtles hatching? Fascinating. You might have to wait until two a.m. before the first turtle sightings occur so prepare yourself for a long wait, but definitely worth it. I’d really like to go to the Galapagos Islands. Ever been there?”

  “Been there? I can’t even pronounce it.” So he has a nature lover side to him. That’s okay. “Let’s start over, Kevin. Get in. We’ll talk.” She pushed the door unlock button. By the time he walked around and got in they both had settled down.

  “Does Jamie like you?” she asked just to start the conversation.

  “Of course she likes her daddy. What kind of question is that?”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t get a chance to discuss it with her. Okay, any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of mine. If she likes you, then I like you.” She had no reservation in saying that.

  He appeared a bit on the shy side and she didn’t yet know if he had a brain. If she were at a dance, she’d have been watching him, and if Mr. Nice Guy came near, she’d do that little flirty thing she could do with her eyes. When he got closer, she’d stand, try hard to blush, and say, “Oh, me? Yes, I’d love to.”

  “You’d love to what?” He looked at her.

  Geez, did she say that aloud? “Ah...love to meet Jamie’s dad.”

  “Sorry, I came on strong. I guess I don’t really know the situation. Thank god you called me.”

  “Take off your cap.”

  “My cap? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize gentlemen must remove their hats in your presence.”

  That was quick, she thought. Maybe there’s hope. “No, I just wanted to see your cap.” She didn’t, she wanted to take a look at his hair. It was dark brown and lots of it. “What’s the emblem on the cap?”

  “EMT, I’m a paramedic up in Athens...you know, ambulance stuff and all that.”

  “You like that gig?”

  “Pay’s nothing. Especially in Georgia. I flunked out of pre-med. I want to go back.”

  “Okay, I forgive the cap.”

  She explained the situation. Her background with Abby. All she knew so far about Jamie’s disappearance. They agreed to team up and search for her. He knew some of Abby’s background, her family, and friends. He’d contact them to see if they had any information on Jamie. Meanwhile, she’d keep trying to locate Toby whatshisname. They exchanged phone numbers.

  “Does Abby work? How does she support herself and Jamie?”

  “I pay child support. And she has some rental income. Her dad used to live in a condo in West Palm Beach. Cheap when he bought it, but since then the value has shot up. She inherited it from him. It rents for an unbelievably high
amount. There’s no mortgage on it, so I guess she makes out being a landlord. I don’t know what else she’s into.”

  “How nice for her. I guess I was misled by Jamie as far as her suspicions about her mother being into Internet porn.”

  “Porn? Oh, my god, what are you talking about?”

  She explained what Jamie had told her. “There is no proof whatever. Just my suspicion and I might be wrong. I heard Jamie acts out sometimes and is prone to exaggerate.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “You know, she’s made some false police reports and such.”

  “Probably not false. Like when much younger, Jamie was lost in the mall and Abby kept on shopping without her. Jamie found a police officer. Abby claimed it was a prank. Said Jamie was with her all the time, saw the policeman, and ran over to him. This kidnapping is the last straw. I’m going back to court and try to get full custody of her again.”

  “You had full custody once? Why did you give her up?”

  “Long story, I’ll explain later. We’re wasting time. I need to start looking for my daughter. Why don’t we meet last thing today?”

  “Super. We could have a drink.” She was glad she thought of that. “You don’t know how pleased I am you showed up...to help me.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later, using Chip’s printout of criminal offenders with the alias of Toby—five possibles in adjacent counties and three local—she had crossed off only the first two names. Tobias Swanson, aka Toby Swanson had moved, no forwarding address. She’d have to check further on that one. Next on the list was Michael T. Young, aka Toby Young. It seems he’d gone steady with his high school girlfriend for two years over her father’s objections. Then he turned twenty-five in February two years ago and she wouldn’t be eighteen until April that year. In Florida, twenty-five is over the limit to have sex with a seventeen year old. Her father had him arrested for statutory rape on his birthday. The judge found him guilty which marked him for life as a sex offender. They were married after his release. Sandy crossed him off as highly unlikely.

  At dark, she had one local left on the list: Humphrey Towalski, aka Toby Towalski. She keyed in his last known address. Her GPS guided her to a small house far out on Indian Road at the county’s west edge, past the dump and within earshot of the Interstate. She parked at the side of the unpaved road. The neighborhood wasn’t tidy with old appliances and rusted out cars sprinkled around. This particular house had a large discarded cardboard box in the driveway with Deluxe 50” HD TV printed on the box.

  She stepped up on the small porch. The bell didn’t seem to be working so she knocked. She could hear a TV. She was relieved when an older woman answered the door instead of the felon on her list.

  The woman took the cigarette out of her mouth. “Yeah?”

  Sandy took the textbook recommended one step back to appear less threatening. “I’m looking for, Humphrey Towalski.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “So Mr. Towalski doesn’t live here?”

  “If he lived here, I’d no doubt have heard of him, don’t you think.” She reached out to close the door. “I’m busy...you have a nice day. I’ve given up on mine.”

  Sandy went into the routine she’d used so often in Philly to locate people who didn’t want to be located. She raised the clipboard. The business-sized check was clipped face down on top of the computer printout. Being careful not to show the face of the check, which was blank, she made a minor production out of pretending to read the payee. “I’m supposed to find...ah yes, Humphrey Towalski?”

  The woman standing in her doorway straightened noticeably. Her eyes focused on the back of the check. “Oh, maybe I didn’t catch on to what you wanted. Well, Toby isn’t here.”

  “His nickname is Toby? Are you Mrs. Towalski?”

  The woman shrugged. “So I had some bad luck.”

  “And you’re married to...Humphrey?”

  The woman flicked the cigarette far out into the dirt street. “Yes, sweetie, I’m his wife. I handle all his financial affairs, the stocks, the bonds, all of our trust funds.” She reached for the check. “You can give it to me.”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to see him personally. Procedure you know.” She was afraid she’d struck out on this lead. This Toby was an unlikely suspect since this woman was over sixty and her husband would be much too old to be messing around with Abby.

  “Toby’s in Okeechobee Correctional. You’re the only one in town who doesn’t know that.”

  Sandy checked the printout. Now she remembered Chip had told her to skip this last name because Florida had him locked up. “I’m sorry, made a mistake. Must go.”

  “But don’t you have anything for us?”

  “There’s an error in these papers. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  “Wait...lady. Why don’t you come inside? I don’t care about the damn check. I don’t get any visitors. My name’s Ruth, you look like a tea drinker. I’ll make us some.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Sandy stepped back off the porch.

  “You don’t want to come in because you think my house is all messy inside. You think it smells. You think my house is junky because I got that stupid TV box in the front yard. The trash truck won’t pick it up big like that. Toby promised to cut it up tomorrow.”

  “But Toby’s serving time.”

  “Are we talking about Moron #1 or Moron #2? Humphrey is Moron #1. They both want to be called Toby, so you see the level of original thinking I must deal with around here.”

  Sandy was instantly interested again in this family. She wondered how old Toby #2 was. She gave the woman a quizzical look.

  “Yeah, Moron #2 is my stepson. Just as dumb as his father. If he were any dumber, I'd have to water him. Does nothing around the house. Glued to his damn computer. Have to beat him every so often to get him to do anything.”

  “You have to spank the little guy now and then,” Sandy said trying to get at his age.

  “I said I beat him. Spanking wouldn’t faze a lazy thirty-year old. I use an old broken golf club.”

  Bingo! Sandy bit her tongue to keep from looking eager. A thirty-year-old Toby was a perfect fit for Abby. A dumb Toby fit even better. “Maybe I will come in for just a minute, Mrs. Towalski. I’m not supposed to go inside houses. Are you alone?”

  “The cats like to jump on people, but seldom seriously injure anyone. Nothing compared to the dog.” She made a weak smile. “I'm a lot of laughs. My house is an animal-free zone, Sweetie. Yeah, I’m alone. The bridge society just left. Come on in.”

  Once inside the house the place was unobjectionable from what Sandy could see and smell. Considering the probable income in the vicinity, it was fine. Sandy could detect the discordant scent of cigarettes mixed with apple pie. Open up the place, she thought. More air and more light. Bring in more Florida. Knock out that front wall and put in a large window. Then again, perhaps this woman didn’t want to see the neighborhood outside.

  In the center of the living room, almost blocking passage back to the kitchen, sat a huge partially unpacked TV. A smaller old TV at the side insisted on delivering an important message. Mercifully, the woman lowered the volume.

  “Gotta get someone to come out and hook up my new TV. Pretty fancy, huh?” She cleared a stack of crossword puzzle books from the chair opposite the couch for Sandy. “So, you’re from the government, corrections department, something like that?”

  Sandy nodded and glanced around the room. Not too tidy but clean. She noted there were no photographs resting anywhere in sight, no evidence of any family whatsoever.

  “Got that Motel 6 ashtray there in Branson. Years ago. Hundred percent tin. It’ll be worth a fortune in a few years if I can get the rust off. I keep it around as a reminder in case I start feeling good about my marriage. A honeymoon in Branson...every bride’s dream. Didn’t know it at the time, but it was the highlight of my life. Winning a free cup and saucer once at a supermarket was a close second. I’m sorry
, forgive my smartass mouth. I don’t do much socializing.”

  “You’re doing fine. Your marriage could be better, huh?”

  “Our marriage lacked only two things, him and me.” She crushed the cigarette to death and lit another. “He calls me a bitch like it's a bad thing. I’m crazy. I admit it. That’s basically why Big Toby and me don’t get along. We’re both crazy.”

  “At least you have something in common.”

  The woman gave a little laugh. “Now you see? I don’t have any clever people like you to visit with. Not that I could keep up with you.”

  Sandy settled back in her chair. She was getting a good reading on this woman and began to feel more comfortable.

  “You can smoke if you want. Come clean now, you’re really a cop aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m doing some ancillary fieldwork.”

  “Ancillary, huh? Meaning adjunct or extra.” She nudged the ashtray toward Sandy. “I do crosswords.”

  Sandy had to smile. “You got me on that one. I sense some formal education on your part. Am I right?”

  “God, I thought all that had worn off long ago. Nice of you to mention it. Finished Junior College—they call it Community College now. Name’s Ruth. Did I already tell you that? You want some tea or a blast of something? How about some apple pie?”

  A cup of hot tea sounded wonderful to Sandy. “No, thanks. Can’t stay too long. Must get to my next call.”

  “Oh, please don’t go. What can I do to make you stay?”

  Sandy glanced casually around the room. “So, big Toby is incarcerated and little Toby lives with you.” She wished he’d come home now so she could get a look at him. See how well he matched up with Abby.

  “Incarcerated, meaning caged or confined. Of course, I know that one. Three years ago, Moron #1 was in the garage cleaning one of those antique pistols of his. Told him I’d clean the damn thing for him. I used to clean my daddy’s guns. Real men don’t need help cleaning guns, he said just before firing a slug through his leg. I ask you, how can you clean a revolver without emptying the cylinder first? When the medical emergency people came out from town to patch him up, they noticed a big shiny chest of mechanic's tools sitting there in the garage, must have been five feet high and bright red. Reported as stolen, they claimed. Pulled five years for that.”