by Harper Lin
“Well, a man should never be too comfortable around his woman. It breeds complacency,” Amelia replied.
Dan chuckled and hung up the phone.
Moody’s was across town but worth battling the traffic and red lights for. They had the most amazing Italian subs, which Amelia almost loved as much as her own flesh-and-blood children. When she pulled the big truck up to the curb and put it in park, Dan came strutting out of the restaurant with an umbrella.
“Can you believe this weather?” He grinned.
“Well, you look mighty happy to be in a rainstorm.” Amelia ducked her head and slipped her arm through Dan’s, snuggling close to him as they both shuffled quickly into the restaurant. It was a rustic place with a blazing fireplace in the middle of the dining area.
“Your table’s ready, Detective.” The waitress smiled. “Hi, Amelia.”
“Thanks.” Dan took Amelia’s hand as they walked to a quiet table for two in a dark corner of the restaurant.
After they ordered their food, Amelia leaned in toward the detective. “So, I’m not sure if I should be nervous or happy about that grin on your face. Are you going to tell me the good news or what?”
“We made an arrest in the murder of Danielle Wilcox.”
“What? When? Who?”
“His name is Charles Howe.”
“Christine never mentioned him. Who is he? What happened?” Amelia leaned into the table even further.
“Charles had quite a crush on Danielle,” Dan replied. “According to several sources, he was a bit of a screw-up before she started working there… Showing up late. A bit of backtalk to the supervisors in the mailroom. Breaking dress-code. Nothing that was enough to get him fired, but it was enough to make people notice when all his shenanigans stopped after Danielle started working there. He got a shave and a haircut. Began coming in early and not leaving until Danielle did, and that was sometimes five or ten minutes after everyone else. His latest review boasted as perfect a score as any employee at a place like this could get. Everyone noticed the change. Danielle noticed the change.”
“She didn’t like him? I had heard she had a boyfriend, but sometimes girls just say that so they don’t hurt a guy’s feelings.”
“I’m afraid she liked the attention, but it didn’t do her any good. They were seen together at several gatherings after work, sitting together and talking intimately. Sort of like you and I are right now.” Dan winked at her. “A few people said they saw them leave places together, but no one could confirm they were an item.”
“But if he liked her and went through all these positive changes, why would he kill her? What pushed him over the edge?” Amelia asked through a mouthful of sandwich.
“When we went to Charles’s apartment, we found over two dozen pictures of Danielle tacked up on his wall. Some of them she posed for at work with other people. But most of them were taken when she was unaware. Some were innocent enough, of her sitting at her desk or eating lunch. Some were a little more scandalous, where she was bending over or stretching up to reach something in the supply room. The date on the picture of her on the stepladder in the supply room was the day Danielle was murdered.”
Amelia gasped and began to cough as part of her sandwich went down the wrong pipe. She finally got the words out. “What a stroke of luck! So he was the last one to see her. What do you think happened?”
“I think Charles had it in his head that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. I think he approached her, asked her out for what was probably the hundredth time, and she said no, again, for the hundredth time. It didn’t sit well with him. He probably started to argue with her, and before either of them knew what happened, he’d grabbed the box cutter, took a swipe, and slit her throat. Everyone was gone from the building already. He just shut the door to the supply room, as if nothing had happened, and walked out.” Dan took a bite of his sandwich and a sip of his pop from a big red plastic cup.
Before Amelia could ask another question, her phone began to ring. It was her ex-husband, John. “Excuse me, Dan. It’s the kids’ father.”
Dan nodded and dug into his food as he watched Amelia’s face.
“Hi, John,” Amelia snapped quickly. “What kind of problem?”
Dan stopped chewing and swallowed hard. He leaned back in his seat.
“Well, you need to tell her that you aren’t going to do that. John, Adam has already written a speech. He’s got a date he’s bringing. Oh, my… you can’t be serious?” Amelia looked at Dan with tears in her eyes. “I can’t even begin to count all the times you told us no, and you won’t tell Jennifer no to this one thing? Are you absolutely kidding me?”
Squaring her shoulders, Amelia lifted her chin but looked into space, not wanting to see Dan for fear she’d lose her composure. “John, he is your oldest and only son. If past behavior dictates anything, you’ll have another wife in short order. But you will not have another Adam. If you don’t make this right, you’ll… What do you mean, ‘don’t take this tone’ with you? It’s high time I did. I’m warning you, John. Do not do this to Adam.”
Amelia bit her tongue to keep the tears back behind her eyes. She didn’t want to break down in front of Dan. She had never done that. Her relationship with her ex-husband was just a small avenue she had to go down every once in a while, and usually there was no need to involve Dan in it. But she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to keep this from him, since the whole horrible story was probably written all over her face.
“I’m not saying a word to him. This is your decision. You have to tell him, if you are going to go through with it. But I’m begging you, John. Don’t break your son’s heart like this. Don’t do it.”
It was obvious from her reaction that John had hung up on Amelia. She took the napkin from her lap and dabbed her eyes. “Jennifer told John she wanted her brother to be his best man, not Adam.” Her bottom lip began to quiver. “How could he even entertain the idea, Dan? How could he turn his own son away?” She began to cry. “I’m sorry. I was having such a nice time with you. If only I hadn’t answered my phone.” She slapped her forehead with her hand.
“Well, it probably isn’t my place, Amelia,” Dan almost whispered, “because I’m an outsider. We’ve known each other for a while, but as for a real history together, well, that is still being made. But I know one thing. If Adam were my son, there wouldn’t be a day that went by I didn’t feel proud of that blessing.” Dan’s eyes teared as he spoke, and Amelia could see his underlying anger at John roll in like the thunderclouds that darkened the sky earlier today.
Amelia took his hand and kissed it. “You are a gem, Detective Walishovsky.” She dabbed her eyes and began to clean up the table in front of her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Do what you said. If John wants to make this mistake, it is his to make. It’s not your job to make it easy on him. Maybe he just needed to hear it from you. I’ll bet he has a change of heart and Adam will be his best man at the wedding. You might get the blame for it, but that’s a small price to pay.”
Amelia nodded and sniffed. Dan was probably right. This would blow over, and the wedding would go off like the conversation never took place.
That afternoon, after kissing Dan goodbye on the porch as the rain continued in a light drizzle but with even darker clouds rolling in, she called Christine.
“What do you mean, they arrested Charles?” Christine asked. “Charles couldn’t have done it. I don’t believe it.”
“They said that he had a picture of Danielle standing on a ladder in the supply room on the day of the murder. You have to admit that that is pretty coincidental. He was the last person to see her alive.”
“I don’t care if he had the box cutter in his pocket. I don’t believe it,” Christine insisted. “Charles and Danielle were friends.”
“The police seem to think that Charles wanted to be more than friends with her. You know how that story goes? He’s into her, but she’s not into him.
It gets out of hand when he gets rejected that last time, and next thing you know, someone’s throat is slit.” Amelia poured herself half a glass of wine. “Happens all the time. Just watch the true crime channel and you’ll see.”
“Yes, in other places. But not this time. Not Charles and Danielle,” Christine said. “From what I heard about those two, it was like they were brother and sister. Just two people who found each other and were smart enough to know they were better friends than anything else. They didn’t sneak around. They didn’t keep their friendship quiet. Everyone knew they were pals.”
“But what about Dan saying Charles had pictures of Danielle all over his apartment? What do you think of that?” Amelia sipped her wine.
“Look, I’m an inch away from killing my own children every day, but I’ve got their pictures all over my house. Now, if Charles had pictures of Danielle with her eyes scratched out or scribbles over images, then I might wonder. But were these framed? Were they on a dartboard, or the fridge? I mean, Charles came out of his shell when Danielle started working at Master Ketchup. I don’t know what that means, but he didn’t act like a guy who only had eyes for her. He acted like a guy who was told by a pretty girl that he could easily find another pretty girl, and he believed her. They were like cheerleaders for each other.”
“Kind of like you and me,” Amelia said.
“Exactly.” Christine’s voice smiled. “That’s why I say they were like brother and sister. Like Meg and Adam would be if they worked together.”
That was all it took. Suddenly the murder, the arrest of Charles Howe, the whole mess melted away as Amelia’s eyes blurred with tears and she began to sob.
“My gosh! Amelia! What did I say?” Christine blubbered. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, Christine, you aren’t going to believe this.” She clenched her teeth and tried to push her emotions back just long enough to tell Christine about the phone call she had with John.
“That witch,” Christine spat.
“I don’t completely blame her, Chris. She wouldn’t even have had the gall to ask such a thing if John hadn’t made it clear it was okay to do. What is wrong with him? These are his children!”
Christine clicked her tongue. “Maybe it’s just talk. Maybe the little twerp is just so overwhelmed with the wedding plans that she’s talking out of the hole in her head and John just wants to let it blow over, you know? Let her come to her senses on her own. Maybe she will. It’s a long shot, I know, but maybe?”
“Oh, I hope so, Christine, because if it isn’t, I just don’t even want to think of how Adam is going to feel. He already wrote a speech, and he read it to me. It’s beautiful, with memories and stories about things that went on between the two of them, and you’d have to have a heart of stone not to hear the love in it.” Amelia sniffed. “Love that two-timer doesn’t deserve.”
Just as Amelia was about to go on an obscenities-filled tirade about her ex-husband, the front door opened and slammed shut. Then it opened again. “Thanks, jerk!” Meg yelled at her brother, who stomped into the house ahead of her, making a beeline for his room in the basement. His eyes were red, and he didn’t look at Amelia when she called to him. He just slammed his door shut and pounded down the stairs.
Amelia looked at Meg.
“Don’t ask me.” She shrugged. “He didn’t say anything to me or Amy the whole ride home on the bus. I didn’t do anything to him, so I don’t know why he’s slamming the door shut on me.”
“Oh, Christine.” Amelia gritted her teeth. “I think John called Adam at school.”
Her blood raced, and she felt like getting in her car, driving to Jennifer’s house, dragging her out into the yard by her hair, and slapping her senseless while daring John to stop her.
“What a class act.” Christine hissed. “Look, let me give you the address of that employee who got fired. You still want it, right?”
“Yeah,” Amelia mumbled distractedly. “Give the details to Meg for me. I’m going to check on Adam.” Amelia handed the phone to her daughter, who cheerfully chirped a hello to her Auntie Christine and took down all the information Christine gave her.
Meg then proceeded to tell Christine how her best friend Katherine had to be rushed to the hospital to have a splinter, which she had gotten while hiking almost three weeks ago, removed after it had become infected. “No, they didn’t have to amputate,” Meg said, but apparently it was in a kind of embarrassing place. “Yes, her butt.”
Chapter Eleven
The lamp on Adam’s nightstand was on, in addition to his three computer screens. He sat in his chair in front of them, quickly tapping away as if he were trying to stop the computer at NORAD from launching nuclear missiles at Russia.
“Adam.” Amelia took a seat on his bed behind him. “What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer.
“I spoke with your dad today.” She watched as his hands stopped typing. He put them in his lap, and his shoulders slumped. He reached into his pocket, took out his cell phone and handed it to his mother.
She looked at it and saw there was one saved message.
Really, John! You left it on his voicemail! Reluctantly she hit the button to hear the message and nearly screamed with frustration when she heard John’s voice, which said, “I just need you to be an adult about this, Adam. Jennifer wants you to handle the guestbook. That is a huge honor in her family. So, you can still wear the tuxedo and—”
Amelia pulled the phone away from her ear. “Adam, your dad is…”
“I know what you’re going to say, Mom.” He sniffed.
“No, I don’t think you do.” She swallowed hard. “Your dad is making some very bad decisions right now. I’m going to leave this to you to handle. Whatever you decide you want to do is one hundred percent fine with me. You’re almost old enough to join the service and die for your country. You can certainly decide how you’d like to handle this wedding and your relationship with your father. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you… as long as it doesn’t require that I consult a lawyer.”
“Mom?” Adam turned and looked at his mother.
Normally, she saw the handsome face of her ex-husband when she looked at her son. But this time she saw the little boy she fell in love with the first time she felt him kick in her belly. He was hurt and vulnerable, and there was nothing she could do to help. At least she didn’t think so. “Yes, honey?”
“I’ll go to the wedding and do this. But can you pick me up after the ceremony? I don’t want to go to the reception.”
“Well, I think that’s a very mature response. Absolutely. And if you change your mind, that’s okay, too. Whatever you want.”
Adam nodded and turned back to his screen, wiping his eyes and focusing on the screens in front of him. Amelia pushed herself off the bed, kissed Adam on the head, and walked over to the stairs.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Dad made a bad decision when he left us.”
Amelia wanted to run to her son and scoop him up in her arms, squeeze him tightly and smother him with kisses. Instead, she choked her tears back and smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”
As she opened the door to the basement and stepped into the family room, Amelia found Meg sitting on the edge of the couch with a worried expression on her face.
“Did you hear any of that?” Amelia asked, smoothing her daughter’s hair back from her ears.
“I heard part of it. What did Dad do?”
Amelia explained the situation to her daughter with as much tact and compassion toward John and Jennifer as she could muster without making herself throw up. She did clear her throat twice in order to suppress her gag reflex.
“I don’t want to stay for the reception if Adam isn’t going to.” Meg pushed her shoulders back as she spoke. “We’re a team.”
Unlike her daughter, who was not emotional but pillar-strong, Amelia felt a new flood of warm tears surface in her own eyes. “I’ll tell you what I told A
dam. Whatever you and your brother decide, I’ll support it. No matter what.” Amelia smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“That’s because we’re a team, Mom. All of us.” Meg hopped up and kissed her mom on the cheek before handing her a Post-it note, strutting confidently out of the room, then pounding up the steps to her own room.
Amelia looked down and read the name Vivika Korseky with an address in New Lenox, the next town over. Meg dotted the “i’s” with hearts. There was a phone number, too.
Normally, Amelia would hop in her car, head on over to this woman’s house, and invite herself in for a little chat. But with all the aggravation over the past couple of hours, due to John and his pitiful behavior toward his children, she was exhausted, so instead, she picked up the phone and dialed the number.
“Hello.” Amelia cleared her throat. She thought her own voice sounded like she had gone forty-eight hours with no sleep. That certainly was how she felt. “This message is for Vivika Korseky.” She introduced herself. “I’m wondering if you could meet with me for a few minutes to talk about Master Ketchup.” Before she left her phone number, Amelia did mention the murder.
When she hung up the phone she walked to the fridge, looked inside the freezer, and pulled out some frozen beef stew she had made a week earlier, along with a loaf of Italian bread.
“Comfort food. I think that’s what we all need.”
At work the following morning, Lila shouted loudly enough for everyone within six miles to hear. “He did what?!” She stared at Amelia. “To his own son? Well, I knew John could be difficult, but I thought when it came to the kids that he drew the line.”
“Believe me, so did I.” Amelia scooped the batter for a batch of apple pie crumbles into the hot-pink, ruffled paper cups that sat daintily in the muffin tin.
“You know what, Amelia?” Lila said as she slowly mixed the cinnamon, dried apples, vanilla extract, sugar, egg and flour together for the crumbly top part of the cupcakes. “This may be the beginning of the end, if you know what I mean.”
