by Gale Deitch
“I’m not sure. She’ll probably be planning a memorial service and funeral for Micah. I don’t think she’ll be back until after that.”
A knock on the back door diverted our attention. “Delivery.”
Gus opened the door to the fishmonger and helped him unload the day’s fresh catch from the back of the truck.
Thinking about food deliveries, I headed to May’s office to check out her inventory and pending orders. As I thumbed through her files, I realized there were so many details to attend to with a restaurant, more than I’d even thought about. Sure, I could oversee the day-to-day food prep and lunch and dinner service, but there was also inventory management, payroll and vendor bills to keep track of. A Fine Fix was a small catering company with two employees, Zach and me, and he was the one who handled all the paperwork, orders and invoicing. This restaurant management was beginning to feel a bit over my head and I’d barely been doing it for twenty-four hours. I wondered if I should ask Zach for help, but that would mean admitting to my inexperience.
Katie and Gina arrived by ten to prep the dining room for lunch service. I decided the only way to get closer to the two of them was to lend a hand, but as I entered the dining room, I realized I’d walked in on an argument.
“You told him? Why the hell did you do that?” Gina hissed.
Paler than usual, Katie creaked, “I had to tell him. He needed to know.”
“Why did he need to know if you were getting rid of it? You stupid little bitch.”
Katie turned a defiant face to Gina. “What difference does it make now? He’s gone.” She lifted her chin. “And maybe I’ve decided not to get rid of it.”
“Not to get rid of what?” I asked.
The two of them turned to me as if caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Katie’s eyes widened. Then she bent forward, holding her hand over her mouth and ran to the ladies’ room.
I looked at Gina, who glared back. Then I headed to the restroom. When I opened the door, Katie was in a stall with the door open, retching into the toilet. I waited, noting the tasteful way May had decorated this room with its mauve-painted walls and cream trim and the lovely floral arrangements on the sink and vanity.
When Katie finally emerged, I gave her a cup of water to rinse her mouth and sat her in the chaise lounge. Then I wet some paper towels under the cold water tap and pressed them to her forehead.
“How far along are you?” I asked.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “I don’t know. Maybe eight or nine weeks.”
“Is it Micah’s baby?”
Katie opened her eyes, a sob escaping from her throat. She nodded. “I told him that night, right before dinner service. We went out into the alley for some privacy.”
So that was the exchange of glances I’d seen between them when they’d served Daniel and me our Bananas Foster.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “May told me Micah’s only been here about a month.”
“Well, yeah. This time. He came for a visit last spring, and May put him to work here at the restaurant, first as a busboy, then doing prep in the kitchen, a little bartending. But he kept messing up, at least according to Gus. Gus was always giving him a hard time, especially when he realized I’d started seeing Micah.”
“Why would Gus be upset about that?”
“He’d asked me out a couple of times, but I wouldn’t go. It would be like dating my boss. Anyway, Gus isn’t my type.”
“But Micah was your type,” I said.
Katie smiled. “I remember the first time we went out. Well, it wasn’t actually a date. I just wanted to show him around D.C. I took him to see the Capitol, the White House and all the monuments, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Micah fell in love with this city.”
“And with you?” I asked.
“Yes, I think he did love me.”
“Then why did he leave town?”
“Gus. That man was relentless. Got on Micah’s case about everything. Made him feel as if he couldn’t do anything right.” Katie shook her head. “Finally, about the end of June, Micah couldn’t take it anymore and left town.”
“Did Micah ever complain to May about Gus?” I asked. “I mean, he was her brother.”
“No. I wanted him to tell her, but he wouldn’t do it. Gus was her prized employee, the one who ran the show. Micah had messed up so many times in his life that he knew May would believe everything Gus told her.”
“So why did Micah come back to town? Was it because of you?”
Katie smiled again and nodded. “We talked on the phone a lot while he was gone. He just couldn’t stand us being apart like that. So he decided to try again and do his best to ignore Gus’ verbal abuse.”
“What was his reaction when you told him about the baby?”
She closed her eyes again and shook her head. “At first, there was this little spark in his eyes, like maybe he was excited about having a child. But then he told me I needed to get rid of it. There was no way he could be a father or support a kid. No way. He couldn’t keep a job or stay out of trouble. Said he was a loser with a capital L.”
Katie shuddered and started to sob again, her shoulders shaking. Then she looked up at me, tears streaming. Her eyes were ringed with red. “I told him he was wrong. He could stay and work with May in the restaurant, maybe get a promotion, become a manager. Micah wasn’t the loser people thought he was. Nobody understood him. He had big dreams, wonderful dreams. He wanted to go to college, maybe study restaurant management so he could help out his sister.”
I thought about how happy May would be if Micah had gotten a chance to make something of himself, to make her proud of him the way she’d always wanted to be.
“I knew eventually I could convince him he’d be a wonderful father to our baby.” She shook her head. “There was no way I was going to end this pregnancy. But now he’s gone—for good. And he’ll never get to be that father or do anything with his life.” She began to sob again.
I sat down in the chair next to her and put my arm around her shoulders. Hanging on the wall opposite us were two white ceramic masks, both faces of women attractively made up with red lipstick and eyes lined with black mascara. One of the faces had a fat tear caught mid-roll on the woman’s cheek. The other had almost a bemused, cynical expression.
“And what now?” I asked, handing Katie a fistful of tissues.
She wiped her eyes and looked at me with conviction. “Maybe I am a stupid little bitch, like Gina says, but I’m keeping this baby. It’s all I have left of Micah.”
“You loved him,” I said.
“Yes. He was the one person who made me feel capable and self-confident. He treated me like a desirable, intelligent woman and made me feel I was someone worth treasuring.” She looked at me. “Do you know what it’s like feeling inferior your whole life and then finding someone who lifts you up and changes your whole perspective?”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. My entire life, people had overlooked me, ignored me, avoided me because of my appearance. I’d always been the fat girl in school that no one tried getting to know, afraid it would undermine their social status. Of course, my parents loved me and always told me how special I was, and Zach was my best friend and biggest supporter. But it took Daniel to show me I could be loved, that I deserved to be loved. He had put me up on that pedestal and cherished me. I looked at Katie, “Yes, I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
Gus and Gina eyed us warily as we re-entered the kitchen. I wondered if Gina had told Gus about the pregnancy.
My cell phone rang, and I checked the display. Alan.
“Hi, Trudie. We’ve got a two-o’clock hearing. Can you make it?”
“Of course. I’ll be there.” Lunch service would be well underway by then. “Anything I need to know beforehand?”
“Meet me outside courtroom number ten about a half hour early.”
When I was off the phone, I noticed Gina in the alley having
a smoke. I walked outside to join her. It was only ten-thirty, but the air was heavy with moisture, dark clouds threatening a typical summer day of scattered rain showers. The temperature gauge screwed on to the back door jamb registered seventy-nine degrees.
“Pretty muggy out here,” I said.
She blew out an audible stream of smoke. “Yeah. I guess.”
Yellow police tape still ringed the area where Micah had been murdered and a large brown stain the shape of the state of Florida remained to serve as a constant reminder.
“She’s scared,” I said, referring to Katie.
“Stupid, more like it.” Gina’s left arm was bent at the elbow, the cigarette held high between two slender fingers. Her fingernails were long and polished a dark red. She turned her back to me, taking another drag.
“She really cared for Micah,” I said. “She wants to have his baby.”
“That’s her problem, not mine.”
“How did you get along with Micah?” I asked.
Gina whirled around. “What is this, lady? The Inquisition? Listen, I know May asked you to watch over her restaurant, but that doesn’t give you the right to butt into our lives.”
Her eyes smoldered with anger and I held up both hands and backed up a step. I glanced again at the dark stain in the concrete and remembered my promise to Daniel that I wouldn’t go out in the alley, even in the daylight. Despite the muggy heat of late afternoon, I felt a chill travel up my arms to the back of my neck. I turned and retreated back into the kitchen and into May’s office.
The lunch crowd began arriving at eleven-thirty, and soon almost every table was occupied. On a hot August day, few diners chose to sit at the patio tables out front, even sheltered under umbrellas; most escaped inside to the air conditioned dining room. Friday lunch breaks during the summer months tended to be early, since many white-collar workers evacuated D.C. at three-o’clock to head for the beach, anxious to make it over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge as early as possible before the toll lanes were gridlocked.
I took some time to go through the personnel files. Katie O’Connor had attended a private girls’ school then went on to study at RISD, an arts college in Rhode Island. She had graduated with a BFA over a year ago and most likely was biding her time as a server here until she could get some type of job in the art world. Judging from her address in an affluent neighborhood in Chevy Chase, she must still live with her parents. I wondered if she’d told them about the pregnancy. Probably not. It was too early.
A sharp knock on the door startled me, and Gina opened it, hesitating where she stood. “Can I come in?” she asked, shifting her glance anywhere but at me.
“Sure,” I said. “Have a seat.” I moved the personnel folders to the other side of the desk, but I could tell she’d seen what I’d been doing. I wondered if she’d let the others know I’d been snooping into their lives.
She sat in the side chair next to the desk, crossed her legs and pretended to busy herself picking at a cuticle. “I-I just want to say I’m sorry. I was rude. I shouldn’t have said those things—to Katie or to you. I don’t understand her.”
I wondered why she was apologizing to me. Maybe she realized I’d be her boss for a while and she needed to stay on my good side. Or maybe, knowing my boyfriend was a detective on the case, she wanted to take any suspicion off of her.
Gina looked up at me. “It seems so obvious what she should do. She’s ruining her life. Why doesn’t she see that?”
“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” I asked. “When you look at it as an outsider. Katie’s still so young, has her whole life ahead of her. I don’t know what’s right and what isn’t. I’ve never been pregnant. But we can’t tell her what to do. She needs to make that choice for herself.”
Gina seemed to eye me with interest at what I had to say, so I continued.
“She loved him and wants to have his baby. And who knows. This child may turn out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”
Gina opened her mouth to say something then hesitated.
“What?” I sensed she had something important to tell me.
“You asked me about my relationship with Micah. He was a fun guy, a very sexy guy. We had some good times. But he played around with lots of women. I found that out, all right,” she said, frowning. “So for Katie to keep this baby because she thinks he loved her—well, that’s just bullshit.”
Gina frowned, stood and headed out the door.
I leaned back in my chair, wondering about Gina’s relationship with Micah. Maybe her feelings for him were more serious than she let on. Was she telling me the truth about Micah and his dating around? I remembered his playful slap in the restaurant the night before and Gina’s reaction.
Maybe Katie’s pregnancy was as much a shock to her as it had been to Micah. Had her jealousy gotten the best of her and she’d gone too far?
Chapter Seven
As promised, Alan was waiting for me in front of courtroom number ten. He greeted me with that same big welcoming smile. His well-tailored tan suit and brown Italian leather shoes reminded me about those billable hours.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Before we talk, are we on the clock? I don’t want to run May’s bill up any higher than it already is.”
Alan chuckled. “Ms. Dubois and I agreed on a flat fee. So no worries.”
I exhaled an audible sigh of relief as he led me into a windowless private conference room with a table and six chairs.
“Where is May now?” I asked.
“She was processed at the Correctional Treatment Facility on E Street, Southeast this morning. They’re transporting her now.”
It occurred to me that May didn’t have anything to wear for this hearing. When I’d visited her the day before, she wore a hospital gown. “What’s May going to be wearing? Not a bright orange jumpsuit, I hope?”
“Trudie, you’re worrying again. I had my staff pick something up for her.”
I smiled at him. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
He broke out in that big grin again. “That’s why we get paid the big bucks.” He looked at his watch. “Okay. Not a lot of time. You won’t have to do much. When the judge asks to whose custody May will be remanded, you come forward and stand next to me. He’ll ask you a few simple questions, including your name and address. Just answer honestly. Okay?”
“Do you think the judge will really release her? After all, the evidence is pretty damning.”
He put his hands on mine and locked eyes with me. His expression was genuine, not one I’d expect from a high-powered lawyer. “I think we’ve got a good chance. She has no priors. And she’s lucky to have you. You’re a good friend.”
Alan held my hands a moment longer, giving me a feeling of reassurance, and his eyes seemed like deep pools I could get lost in. He looked at his watch, squeezed my hands and said, “So are you ready? Let’s go spring her.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Daniel and Sergeant Flowers in the courtroom. Daniel hadn’t mentioned it to me, but they had been the officers on record at the crime scene and she had been the arresting officer.
When I walked in, Daniel acknowledged me with a smile. They sat in the front row, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Sherrie kept leaning over to whisper in Daniel’s ear. On the other side of Sergeant Flowers sat a man who periodically conferred with her.
May wore a white blouse and dove gray pencil skirt that showed off her tall, slim frame. I was used to seeing her in colorful kaftans that hid her slight figure. Now she appeared fragile as a bird standing in front of the judge next to Alan. Still, with her head held high, she exuded a regal bearing that held the attention of everyone in the courtroom.
Judge Gilbert Maynard read the charge, first degree murder, and asked for May’s plea.
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” she said.
“Mr. Bernstein, you are petitioning the court to release Ms. Dubois to her own recognizance, are you not?”
“
Yes, Your Honor, I am.” From where I sat, I could see that Alan was clenching his teeth. Whenever he had spoken to me about this hearing, he’d demonstrated complete confidence in the outcome. But obviously he must have some doubt.
“Are there any objections to my releasing Ms. Dubois pending her trial?” Judge Maynard asked.
I saw Sergeant Flowers nudge the man next to her, and he stood. “I object, Your Honor. “I’m Joe Krakower, prosecuting attorney for the District, sir.” He seemed very young, not much older than me, in fact. Probably a rookie and obviously taking direction from Flowers.
The judge lifted his eyebrows. “On what grounds, Mr. Krakower?”
“The District of Columbia feels Ms. Dubois would be a danger to herself and others if released. I’d like to call Sergeant Sherrie Flowers, the arresting officer, to the stand, Your Honor.”
“This isn’t a trial yet, Mr. Krakower. But I’ll allow it. Sergeant Flowers, please step forward.”
Sergeant Sherrie Flowers sashayed toward the judge.
“You Bisquick,” I wanted to yell out to her, knowing she really deserved a stronger name than that, but one I would never say out loud.
“Your Honor, with all due respect,” she said, her voice slick as olive oil. “Ms. Dubois was discovered next to her brother’s bloody body, the murder weapon in her hand.
“Do you have a witness to the scene?”
“Yes, I do. Detective Daniel Goldman is here today. He witnessed the defendant seated on the ground next to the victim’s body.”
“Detective Goldman, please stand.”
Daniel stood up and walked a few feet closer to the judge.
“Detective Goldman, please describe the scene of the crime as you found it.”
Daniel stood rigid, knowing I was watching him from behind. "I was having dinner at Ms. Dubois’ restaurant. I heard screaming coming from the kitchen area and went to investigate. I realized the screaming was coming from the alley and went outside.”
