Checkered Crime: A Laurel London Mystery

by Kappes, Tonya

  She shook her head back and forth.

  “Where are my records?” There had to be records. I remember the orphanage office was filled to the gills with records.

  “You didn’t come with any. Found you in a box on my steps with the note.”

  “Yes. I know that. But didn’t you tell the police?” I asked. I mean it wasn’t like it was ancient times and I had floated down the river like Moses or something.

  “Of course they knew. But Walnut Grove Police Department wasn’t going to waste time trying to find somebody who didn’t want to be found.” Her words hit a spot directly in the middle of my gut.

  She was right. They didn’t want to be found which meant they didn’t want me.

  “How is the job search? I was meaning to get down there and give Morty a piece of my mind.”

  “That’s exactly why I wanted my background information. My mind. I need to know if anyone in my family had any diseases or say…mental health issues?”

  “The only thing I bet was in your family was a long line of criminals after what you put me through.” She gave me a sideways glance and laughed. “Now drink up.”

  No matter how much I tried, there was no way I was going to get it out of her. I was going to have to figure out where those records were. Surely there was something in the files about me.

  Trixie and I didn’t bring up my past again. We talked about jobs I could apply for. Most of them were in Louisville, which wasn’t bad since it was only a thirty minute drive. I was getting used to it since I had become Trigger Finger’s personal driver.

  “Oh.” Thinking about Tony jarred my memory of my meeting with the gun owner from Craigslist. “Got to get going if I’m going to drive to Louisville in the morning to look for a job.”

  Trixie got up.

  “Let me get you some gas money.” She held her hand on the metal handle of the screen door.

  “I’m good. I’m still using the little bit of guilt money Morty gave me.” I lied, but she didn’t need to know anything about Tony, the mob, Jax Jackson or the finger. She would have a heart attack for sure and die. Then I’d really be gone.

  I smiled at her. Her face softened into a sweet grin. She really was all I needed, but it sure would be nice just to know my DNA.

  “I thought you said you were going to pay Pastor Wilson and Rita upfront rent money,” she questioned me.

  “I did. But it didn’t take all my money,” I lied again…

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Trixie said. She was a little leery. I leaned over and we hugged. “I don’t know what happened to your phone, but go get another one.” She shook her finger at me. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I will.” I grabbed Henrietta and we jumped back into the Belvedere and headed east toward the docks.

  I eased the Old Girl right next to Morty’s. It was well lit there… most of the time. The dock light looked like it needed to be replaced.

  The sound of a boat knocking up against the dock caused me to look down at Morty’s dock because there were flashlights wiggling all around. Two of them to be exact.

  I ducked behind the old dumpster and held my nose.

  “Let’s get out of here!” I heard one of them say and the flashlights got closer as they seemed to dart up the ramp.

  I kept myself hidden until they passed. It was probably a teenage couple, no doubt trying to get it on.

  I came out from behind the dumpster and all of the sudden the dock light came on.

  I saw a man on the dock. He lifted his head; his eyes locked with mine.

  “Laurel, what are you doing down here?”

  I jumped around. Derek was standing next to my car.

  “I’m going to have to call Stanley Clever. He needs to get back out here and change these bulbs.” Derek walked toward me, using his flashlight to guide his steps. He held a small silver case in his other hand.

  “What?” Confused, I looked back at the dock. The man was gone, the light was out. I gulped. I didn’t have a choice. I knew I was going to have to break into the old orphanage and get my records. I was completely losing my mind. “That was just on.” My mouth fell open and I pointed to the dock.

  “Not recently. Pastor Wilson had called the station and left a message a couple days ago.” He shined the light in my eyes. I shielded it with my hand. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Pastor Wilson? Hmm. That was the second time in the past couple of days he had been there. Why? What business did Friendship Baptist have to do with Morty? I shook it out of my head. “What are you doing down here?”

  “I asked you first,” Derek said in a joking manner. Only he didn’t have a joking poker face.

  It was a “thing” with us. The one-upping thing.

  “Just getting some air.” I kicked the rocks with my shoe. Derek was always good at calling me out on my lies.

  “Right.” He tipped his head back, his eyes looking down on me. “The truth now.”

  “Fine. I’m here to buy a gunoffsomeoneonCraigslist,” I slurred the last few words so fast to confuse him.

  “Did you say gun?” He held the silver case in the air. “Like a Colt Defender?”

  “Yes.” We both froze when we realized he was the seller and I was the buyer.

  “Are you…,” his mouth dropped. “Hackensack?”

  “Yeah.” I hung my head. I knew exactly what was coming.

  “Geez Laurel!” He wasn’t pleased. “Why in the hell do you need a gun? I can’t sell you this. I bet you don’t even have the right permits to carry.” He turned and walked back toward my car. “Is there a slew of robberies at the Quick Copy?”

  “Quick Copy?” My nose turned up. What on earth was he talking about?

  “You told me you were going to apply as a salesperson at the Quick Copy selling copiers. That doesn’t require a gun.” He was walking faster and faster.

  “I haven’t applied yet. I need the gun.” I ran after him and grabbed his arm. His blue eyes flashed with outrage. My hand dropped. “I mean, don’t you want me to be safe when I’m driving these people around?”

  “People?” he questioned. “What people? I thought you said one ride with that arrogant salesman.”

  “Jax Jackson,” I muttered.

  “Name fits him,” he shot back. “And if you feel threatened by him, then we need to get to the bottom of it. Now!”

  “He isn’t a problem. But he did ask if I could take him back and forth places so he could get around. I don’t mind, but I think a little protection might be nice.” Sounded good to me.

  “You don’t even know how to shoot a gun.” He made a good point.

  “I don’t want to use it, just have it right there and pretend I do,” I said. “If someone sees a gun, they are on their best behavior.”

  “Sounds like you know.” He eyed me suspiciously.

  “Duh, TV.” Not that I was going to tell him about Trigger Finger Tony and his love of showing me his little friend.

  “I’m not selling it to you.” He plopped the case on the Old Girl and opened it. As he took it out, I saw one of the bullets fall out and roll under the car. He didn’t notice and kept talking, “I’ll let you borrow it for show. That’s it, Laurel.”

  He took the gun out and opened the barrel. He held it up in the air with one hand, the flashlight in the other. “Empty.” He rolled the barrel and slammed it back in before he handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I knew I had to get that bullet. If I had one, I could go to the store and buy more just like it without Derek ever knowing. “By the way, you don’t have any old cell phones you aren’t using lying around do you?”

  “I have a couple at the shop. You can swing by and grab one. Take it on over to Johnny Delgato’s place. He can have it running for you in no time.”

  “Great.” Hearing Johnny’s name made me cringe. He was one of those hunky guys with shifty eyes and sly hands. He was always trying to cop a feel at our high school dances. He had opened up the Phone Shop, not an o
riginal name, after he came back from a two-year college with some sort of business degree.

  He must’ve known what he was doing because the Phone Shop was always packed.

  “Get on out of here,” he warned and walked back toward the street. Before he rounded the corner, he yelled over his shoulder, “Stay away from Jax Jackson!”

  “Will do.” Ugh…if he only knew that I had to work for Jax and the FBI, not to mention the mob.

  I crouched down and looked under the car. It was pitch black. I got up and looked in the car to see if there might be a flashlight in there but there was nothing. The light above the dumpster flickered, and then buzzed on.

  I bent down to look under the car. The bullet was right there by my foot. I grabbed it and put it in my pocket before I got back into the car.

  Chapter Twelve

  Call me a hypochondriac or just plain crazy, but the idea that there could be something, anything about my past in the old orphanage sat in my gut next to my ulcer or whatever had to be growing in my stomach. It had to be hereditary.

  Henrietta wasn’t in any rush to get home because she was curled up in the back seat of the car, eyes shut tight.

  I backed the car out and turned it around to turn onto River Road so I could head out to the abandoned orphanage. Before I pulled out, someone smacked the back of the trunk. In my rearview window I could see it was the couple of kids I had seen on the docks.

  “Can you give us a lift? We don’t have any money and if I don’t get back by curfew my dad is going to kill him.” The young blonde pointed to the scrawny guy next to her.

  “Get in.” I sighed heavily. I remembered what it was like being young, only I didn’t have a ride anywhere.

  They jumped in and muttered a few “thank yous” and told me how to get to her house. It was in the trailer park a few miles away.

  “If you don’t start giving it up, you won’t have to worry about a curfew because I’m dumping you.” The guy grabbed the girl by the leg making her wince.

  “I told you. I’m not ready for that.” Tears hung on the edge of her lids. “But Tommy I love you.”

  I reached over and pulled the little gun next to me.

  “Then give me a little. That’s how you show me.” He grabbed her and planted a big kiss on her. She fought him off, wailing on his chest.

  Abruptly I stopped the car and turned around in the seat. I had had enough.

  “Listen here, bitch.” Tommy looked like he was talking in slow motion. “Drive you stupid cabby bitch.”

  “Tommy!” the girl yelled. He backhanded her.

  “Tommy is it?” I waved my little confidence in the air between the front and back seat. “Me and my little buddy think it’s time for you to get out of my taxi.”

  Tommy’s eyes grew big and I wasn’t sure, but I’d put money on it that he just might have shit a little in his shorts.

  The next thing I knew, the back door slammed and I was driving full speed.

  “That was awesome!” The girl smiled from ear-to-ear. “You just saved my life!”

  “What?” I blinked and tried to steady my shaking hands. “No. I didn’t save your life.” There was nothing worse than seeing a young girl who wasn’t able to take care of herself. I guess I was lucky since I had no choice. “You need to value yourself so much more than that. Haven’t I seen you at Friendship Baptist on Sundays?”

  “Yes,” the young girl said meekly.

  “Get rid of Tommy and get back to your family and friends and church.” Even if it was with Pastor Wilson, anything was better than what she was doing now.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and turned around and looked out the back window.

  Tommy was flailing his middle fingers in the air and shouting something. I slammed on the brakes. He did a double take and took off running when he saw the reverse lights go on because I was going to go back and bust his balls.

  “You know,” she yammered on, “he treats me like a piece of meat. I knew he only wanted me to go on the docks to get a piece of my ass. I wasn’t about it.” She smacked the back of the seat, causing me to jump.

  I took in a deep breath. She grinned ear-to-ear.

  “Are you like some undercover cop or something? Because you are one badass.” She nodded her head up and down.

  I held up the gun. “Something like that.”

  After she got out of the car, I gripped the steering wheel and pulled out of the girl’s trailer park and headed south on River Road. I was going to cut over on Fifth Street and then left on Main so I could head out of town toward the old orphanage. The state never tore it down and I knew the records weren’t ever moved because Trixie would have complained about it in some sort of fashion.

  The gravel spit up under the Belvedere tires as I sped up the old drive. There was no reason to try to be careful and not ding the car because after all this FBI stuff, I was going to get a real job and get the Old Girl painted something other than yellow.

  I parked the car directly in front of the office window on the left side of the orphanage and left the lights on. Without a flashlight, I had to get creative somehow. Trixie would sit in the bay window and look out as all of us spent our day playing in the front yard. There were always stacks upon stacks of files and manila envelopes. Surely there was something in there with my name on it.

  The old stone mansion used to be gorgeous with the ivy growing up the big pillars and the pointy roof. There were eleven bedrooms. Five on each side of the stairs with a master smack dab in the middle. I swear Trixie never slept. She could hear a mouse scurrying around for a crumb at night. If you wanted to sneak out, it had to be after dinner or right after school.

  Pieces of the stone steps crumbled with each step I took. The shutters creaked in the night wind. The hair on my arms stood up as the air whipped up and around my body.

  “Here goes nothing,” I whispered. I’d never been one to be scared of anything, but trying to figure out where I had come from and if I had some sort of diseases was a little terrifying. I couldn’t help but have a little fear in my soul. Maybe it was anticipation of finding something about my past that should stay exactly where it was…in the past.

  Gia never understood it. As much as I had tried to explain to her, she never had to worry about anything medical or what ethnicity she was. I looked down at my hands wondering if they looked like my mom’s and knew I was doing the right thing by trying to figure out something about my past.

  The single-pane front door had some broken glass, just enough for me to put my hand in and unlock the door. The old place was dusty and filled with cobwebs.

  “Blah, blah.” I spit out the cobwebs that had clung on my face as I walked through the large foyer and down the hall to where the office was.

  The light of the moon dripped through the large windows, shining into the dark old house putting a little glow in the house.

  I peeked my head in all the rooms on the way to the office.

  All of the furniture was the still in place as if we had left for a long vacation. With a little bit of dusting, the place would be exactly like I remembered it. The old red velvet Victorian couch and chairs had large tarps draped over them.

  There was a sense of belonging putting a little doubt to why I needed to find out about my past. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Why do you need to know your past? Trixie has been such a good caregiver.”

  Trixie would be so hurt if she knew I was here, but I had to put that in the back of my mind.

  Without thinking too much, I went into the office. The car headlights did exactly what I had intended for them to do. The light was shining in perfectly as though I had the lights inside on. Just out of curiosity I flipped on the light switch. The chandelier flickered right on.

  “What the hell?” I continued to flip it off and on as the lights did just that. “Why is the electricity still on?”

  That was strange. I knew that Trixie couldn’t afford to keep t
he lights on and the state shut the orphanage down and there was no way they were going to pay to keep the lights on. Something wasn’t adding up.

  The files were still stacked like I remembered them. The grey filing cabinets lined the inside wall of the room and Trixie’s large mahogany desk was still right in front of the window just like I remembered. There was a pen and paper with her handwriting on top as if she had just gotten up to go to the bathroom and would be back to finish whatever it was she was doing.

  More and more questions flooded my mind. Why would the electricity be on? Why would the furniture still be here? And why are the files still here?

  Regardless, I was there to find out about me, not everything else going on.

  One by one the old file doors squeaked when I pulled the long drawers out as far as they would go. There were names on the tabs. Some I recognized and some I didn’t. I’m sure they were of kids that had been there long before I was there.

  I wasn’t sure how long Trixie had run the orphanage before I was born. It was a question I had never asked.

  Carefully I used my finger to pluck through all the filing cabinets with no luck to me. I bit my lip and looked around the room. There had to be something somewhere. My eyes zeroed in on Trixie’s desk. Vaguely I recalled her always shoving papers in the drawers when I would come in to talk to her.

  There were three drawers on each side of the desk and one long one in the middle. Nothing out of the ordinary for a desk. Just a typical wood desk.

  I eased myself into Trixie’s chair and pulled the top drawer open. Nothing but pens and a few stray paperclips. Then I proceeded to go through each drawer one by one.

  “Bingo.” My eyes almost popped out of my head when I saw my name printed on a small envelope. “Please be something.”

  I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper that looked like someone had ripped it off a larger piece of paper.

  “Louisville?” The only thing printed on the paper was an address. I was hoping to find something a little more exciting…like Paris, France or something.

  I pulled the envelope apart hoping there was something else in there, but there wasn’t. I stuffed the piece of paper in my pocket and rummaged through the drawer some more. There wasn’t anything else in there but a few unused notepads and unopened pack of pencils.