Two years ago, Reg invested in a computer (which I believe was mandatory) so now there was something on the desk besides piles of papers, pens, and empty candy wrappers. Jim and Scully were more adept at the computer so I was sure it was being put to good use now. Reg's rifle collection hung on one wall, which every few months, he lovingly took down to clean and pamper. I had no idea where that collection went to as I'm sure Beth, Reg's faithful and patient wife, would not appreciate having that up on her living room wall.
Off the waiting room, a hallway led to a holding cell, a restroom, and a small lunchroom by the back door. The back door was equipped with an alarm system and if it happened to go off by mistake, the whole town heard it. Since we don't usually have any violent criminals escaping, no one panics. It usually meant Scully forgot to shut it off when he went to carry the trash to the back lane.
“You look a little out of sorts, Scully,” I said. “Jake Junior has been giving you a rough time?”
He shook his head. “Naw, he doesn’t give anybody a rough time unless you try talking to him. He just lies there, staring off into space. He won’t even let Emma come for a visit. Jake comes over every day but Junior doesn’t pay him any attention either.” He held out his grubby looking mug for me to fill with coffee. “It kind of scares me, Mabel. He sure acts as if he is guilty. I think we’re maybe blind to the facts because we don’t want to believe them. Think that could be?”
“I don’t know but I do know one thing, there’s no way I’m pouring good coffee into a dirty mug like that. You go right now and wash it out.”
Without saying a word, he trudged down the hall to the small coffee room by the back door.
“My goodness, you’d think I asked him to take his weekly bath, wouldn’t you?”
Nathan laughed. “I think you would have made a terrible mother, Mabel. You’re much too bossy.”
Scully returned with his mug - cleaner but not what I would have called clean. However, after Nathan’s comment, I decided not to make him wash it again. Nathan was right; I would have made a terrible mother. Probably like my own.
I couldn’t be too hard on Scully though because I’m not sure if anyone did teach him how to keep anything clean, including himself. Before Reg took an interest in him, he would come into town on Saturday nights with his family and most folks stayed clear of them all. They were a tough bunch and everyone knew all the boys carried some sort of weapon on their bodies. Scully was a tall, skinny kid with long dirty blond hair and a big chip on his shoulders. I am not sure what Reg saw hidden in him but he arrested that boy for some misdemeanor, kept him in the cell for the weekend, and by Monday morning, he was a different person. To be fair, some of his former ‘skills’ do come in handy once in awhile too.
I decided to settle the boys down with their hot coffee and muffins before I left to talk to the prisoner. At least that way, they would not interrupt us.
“We have some more information, Scully.” I heard Nathan say. “Charlie says it wasn’t Junior beating that fellow up. So, what if….”
I was half way out of the room when I heard that remark.
“Nathan,” I said. “Who gave you that information? I don’t recall telling you that.”
Nathan’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, you didn’t. It’s just some gossip that’s going around town, that’s all. I heard someone at the Post Office say that Jake made a special trip to the café to let a few people know.” He turned a shade pinker. “I don’t know for sure. That’s only what I heard, Mabel.”
“And what exactly did you hear?”
“That someone saw this murdered fellow fighting behind the beer parlor but it wasn’t with Junior.”
“And who was the ‘someone’ who saw that fight?”
“They didn’t know for sure but I think it was Mutt who said it was probably Charlie because he’s the only one wandering around at night.”
“Charlie?” Scully interrupted. “Mabel, you’d better tell your friend here that no one puts much faith in what Charlie says.” He turned to me and at least had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. “Not that I’m being disrespectful. You understand though, even if he’s telling the truth, no one usually believes him except you, Mabel.”
Nathan looked at me with an expectant look on his face. “So, is it true?”
“No comment.”
I turned and walked part way down the hallway to the cell. Jake Junior’s cell. The door was locked but the key was in the keyhole. I knocked two times, turned the knob, and walked in. If you are a felon, you give up your right to any privacy.
Junior was lying on his back on the narrow bed. His eyes were open and he was staring up at the dull thirty-watt bulb hanging from the ceiling. He did not move or look at me.
“Junior,” I said, rather loudly. “It’s me, Mabel.”
I could have been Yosemite Sam for all he cared.
Since the cell does not come furnished with a decent chair to sit on, I walked over and sat down at the end of the bed. At least, he knew enough to move his feet so I wasn’t sitting on them.
“How are you, Jakie?” I asked. Not many people get away with calling him Jakie but I always have. Jake was too old sounding, although there were a few gray hairs showing up on Flori’s firstborn’s head and his fortieth birthday was long past. Since it was also his father’s name, two Jakes were two too many. Junior has always seemed like a dumb thing to call anyone so I’ve stuck with Jakie most of the time. Personally, I don’t think parents should name any of their children after anyone in the family. It is not only confusing; it means a loss of identity.
He made eye contact. “What do you think you’re doing here, Mabel? Who gave you permission to come? Is this a free for all, where anybody can just unlock the door and walk in? Did you hear me tell you to come in? Then, you have the nerve to ask how I am? Asking someone who is sitting in jail how he is, is a stupid question. What do you think? You think I feel like getting up and dancing?”
I wasn’t sure if he wanted answers but I took all the questions as being rhetorical.
“Sitting alone in a prison cell must be very depressing. Have you seen Emma lately? I’m sure you’re very worried about her.”
Tears welled up in his eyes but he didn’t say anything. He went back to staring at the light bulb.
“Jakie,” I said. “I really do want to help you but you’re making it very hard for everyone. Why won’t you tell us what happened that night? I know you did not beat up Victor. Or, whatever his name was.”
That seemed to hit a chord. He looked at me but it was difficult to tell if he was shocked, angry, or a bit of both.
“What do you mean, Mabel, ‘whatever his name was’? Victor Fleming is dead. I know who he was. He was my mom’s first cousin. And what do you mean when you say I didn’t beat him up? Who told you that?”
“There is a witness who says you didn’t. You might as well confess. You are not the one who killed Victor Fleming.” And then, I added, “Or, whatever his name was.” I reached over and patted his arm. “I don’t know who you’re trying to protect, Jakie, but it isn’t worth giving up your life for anyone. Your wife and children need you. And, so does your mother. Have you forgotten her? She’s the one who gave you life in the first place, you know.”
I always knew Jake Junior had a temper. I can’t say that I witnessed it very many times, except when he was a little tyke and had his tantrums. Flori was so patient with him. She would pick him up and carry him to his bedroom for his time-out. All I could see were his arms and legs flailing in all directions as his mother tried to hold him. Of course, I then listened as he screamed and trashed his bedroom. Poor Flori. She just sat and cried. It always baffled me that she went on to have more children. This time, he didn’t scream or flail any limbs. This time, he sat up so abruptly that I almost fell off the end of the bed. His hand shot out and he grabbed my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, and tried to loosen his grip. His hand was like a vice. “Jak
ie,” I said, “You are hurting me. Let go of my wrist. What’s the matter with you anyway?”
I’ve read the expression in books where the author writes that someone’s eyes ‘bored’ into another person - well, now I knew exactly what those words meant. It took all my willpower not to look away. However, Jakie might be mean but I am plain stubborn. I waited and tried very hard to 'bore' back. Without letting go of his grip, he pulled me closer. I was sure there was no more blood left in my hand. There was definitely no feeling anymore. With one twist, it would have dropped off.
“All right,” he whispered. It was not one of those sweet whispers; it was an ugly hoarse whisper. His breath smelled of stale coffee mixed with something minty, like a cough drop. That’s how close I was to Jake Junior, the suspected killer. “You leave my mother and my wife out of this," he hissed. "Don’t you go near either one of them.” He tightened his grip and a pain shot up my arm. “You got that, Mabel?”
I didn’t say anything. I was sure my wrist was broken.
“You think I’m joking? Is that what it is, Mabel? You don’t think I mean what I say? I’ll tell you something, you old busybody, and you’d better listen good. You keep your nose out of this. If I hear that you have upset my mother or my wife in any way by telling them a bunch of lies, I’ll have somebody come to your house and shut you up.” He glared at me. "You got that?"
He loosened his hand. I looked down. My wrist was dark red and starting to swell. I tried to move my fingers but I couldn’t.
I glared back at him. “You stupid idiot, you broke my wrist.” I pulled it away and cradled it on my lap with my other hand. “This isn’t exactly giving me a cozy feeling towards you, Jakie.”
Some of his rage seemed to have evaporated. He sank back down against his pillow and stared straight ahead.
After several seconds of silence and when I knew there was no apology coming from his direction, I stood up. There was feeling back in my hand and I could wiggle my fingers so I was quite sure there wasn’t anything broken. My wrist was going to be bruised and swollen for a while though.
“So,” I said, “That’s all you have to tell me. You have no interest in what I’ve uncovered?”
He turned his dark eyes toward me and sneered. “You haven’t uncovered anything. This is my warning, Mabel Wickles. If you don’t leave our family alone, you will be very sorry.”
“Are you threatening me, Jakie Flanders?”
He shrugged. “Take it anyway you want. Tell Jim, Reg, or Scully. See if I care. I’ll deny everything.”
My whole arm shook as I held up my hand for him to see. “You can’t deny this. I think I have proof you did something. Let’s see, I imagine this is what the cops refer to as an assault.”
He didn’t even look my way. “Get out of here, Mabel. Assault isn’t much if you’re already going to prison for murder.”
I guess he had a point there.
Chapter Fourteen
I pulled my sweater down over my wrist so Scully and Nathan couldn’t see the quickly swelling bruise. I’m not exactly sure why I wanted to protect that little jerk but I did. Maybe it was because I cared so much for his mother.
That was true; however, there was something else. How can someone be all-bad when they have such strong feelings for mother and wife? When I mentioned worrying about Emma and the kids, he got tears in his eyes.
Jakie knew I was not a terrible person so why would he get so violent when he thought I might talk to them? Why would he threaten me and tell me to leave them alone? Didn’t he realize that I talked to Flori every day? If he were truly concerned, would he not want me to talk to them? Maybe he wanted me to think he was a tough cookie but I knew what he really was. He was scared.
As I entered the waiting room, both young men looked up at me, expecting me to fill them in on something.
“So?” Scully said. “What did you find out? You were in there for quite a while, Mabel. Did Junior tell you anything or is he still staring off into space?”
Nathan looked so excited that I was almost tempted to show him my wrist just so he wouldn’t be disappointed.
I shook my head. “No, Jakie doesn’t want to share anything with me either. I should have known it would be a waste of time. If no one else can get him to say anything, I don’t know why I thought I could.”
I told Scully he could have the rest of the cream and the remaining coffee. He told me that he was eternally grateful. It always amazes me when people are so thankful for such small mercies. Even though my brain was befuddled with pain, I decided I’d better talk to Reg or Jim about investing in some decent coffee. Without saying anything more, I headed to the door, carrying my coat. It would be easier for me to put it on if they were not watching.
“What’s the rush, Mabel?” Nathan called out. I could see he was quite comfortable sitting there with the deputy.
“I have to head for home,” I said. “You stay, Nathan. I’m sure you boys have lots to talk about. You don’t want an old woman like me butting in. Besides, this weather worries me. I don’t want to be caught in a blizzard on the way home.”
In all actuality, the wind had died down but if I didn’t get home and put ice on my wrist, it would be throbbing with pain all night.
No matter how much I encouraged him to stay, Nathan insisted on walking home with me. Nathan, I’ve found, is like a terrier hanging onto a bone and won’t let go. There was no point in arguing any longer and I didn’t want to cause undue attention. As it was, both of them were eyeing me closely.
“Hey, Mabel,” Scully said, as he watched me put my jacket on and very slowly slip my arm into my sleeve. I tried hard not to wince as the cloth touched my wrist. “What’s the matter with your arm?”
I looked at him with the most innocent look I could muster under the circumstances, and said, “Nothing. Why?”
“Why? Are you kidding? It looks like you can hardly move it. Did you fall on the way over?” Then, as if suddenly having an epiphany, his eyes widened and he said, “Did Junior do anything to you? Did he hurt you?”
Well, I would like to say that I find it difficult to lie and that it doesn’t come naturally, but that would be a lie. In my defense, I only lie when it is necessary. Or, at least, when I think it is necessary.
So, I shook my head and said, “Just arthritis. It flairs up when it’s cold out.”
Nathan, who always sympathizes with the elderly, said, “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mabel. I didn’t know you had arthritis.” He smiled at me, showing all his white pearly teeth. “After working with you all this time and you never even said anything. My granny has arthritis too and she never stops complaining.”
I managed only a slight grin because I thought my hand was going to drop off at any moment. “Nathan, it’s not like we’ve been working together for years. In fact, I wouldn’t even call it working, would you?”
“Oh no, no, Mabel, I wouldn’t. It’s whatever you want to call it. Are you in really bad pain? Should I call the taxi to come and take you home?”
(Notice he said the taxi - that’s because there is only one in Parson’s Cove. This can mean long waits sometimes.)
“Goodness, no. In fact, I’m all ready to go. I’d like to get home and let the cats out before it gets too late.”
I was thankful that he didn’t put up an argument and Scully seemed only happy to have the last of the coffee in his dirty mug. And, five muffins. I doubt he even noticed that I wasn’t able to pull my mitten over my hand.
When we reached my street, I said, “You go on home, Nathan. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t want to say anything at the Station but you don't look too good. Will you be okay, Mabel?”
“I’ll be fine, Nathan. You go home. I mean it.”
“But what about some of the things Scully told me? We should really talk about them, you know.”
Any other time, I would have been the one begging him to come to my house; however, this time I knew I had to ge
t home and find a bag of frozen peas.
“I know, Nathan; why don’t you email all the info to me?”
“Are you sure? You never check your email. Besides, last time, you forgot your password.”
“Well, I remember it now. Go on. Email me as soon as you get home while it’s still fresh in your mind.”
“All right, Mabel, but you really are acting very weird tonight. What did Junior say to you anyway? Did he threaten you or something?”
Even under the dim light from the streetlamp, I could see the concern in his eyes.
“Nathan,” I said. “Email me in the morning. I’m too tired to talk about anything tonight.”
I turned and walked the half block to my house. As soon as I rounded the corner, I pulled my hand out from my sleeve and shoved it into the snow. It took a few moments to get over the icy shock but it definitely took my mind off the pain. One thing I knew was that I could not walk over to the hospital and be forced to answer Fritzy's questions. Unless my wrist was definitely broken, I would suffer through the healing process, no matter how painful.
After several minutes, when I was sure my hand was a block of ice, I gently lifted it out and went inside. My wrist was so weak I had to hold it with my other hand. The plastic bag with my empty thermos stayed on the snow bank. Unless it snowed overnight, it could stay there until spring for all I cared.
Five cats met me at the door, eyes filled with sadness and voices lifted in mournful meows. Unfortunately, their true colors showed through when all of them left my side and started walking in circles around their food dishes.
“Never mind,” I said. “You are getting nothing tonight. Be happy you have all your limbs intact. Now, get to bed, all of you.”
It isn’t often that I have to use a serious tone with my pets so they all sort of stared at me in astonishment but then walked away with their tails in the air, muttering to each other.
I managed somehow to remove my coat and could finally have a good look at my injury. It reminded me of a nasty rug burn. The skin was swollen and dark red with certain places beginning to turn purple and blue. I went to the fridge, took out a bag of frozen peas from the top freezer, and wrapped it around my wrist. With my arm resting on the counter, I managed to reach up to the second shelf and grab my bottle of aspirins. Using my two fingers and my teeth, I flipped off the childproof lid, and shook two pills out. Then, I shook one more out. After downing those with some water, I kicked off my boots, and made my way upstairs to bed.
Frozen Identity Page 9
