Walking Woman (Gratis Book 2)

by Jackson, Jay

  “Well, damn, Mr. DA. What would you have me do now? You heard those calls, just like I did. You know it was Claudia, just like I do. So tell me, what do you want me to do?”

  “Judge, do you mind if I tell y’all something before Mr. Broyles answers?”

  Pierson smiled. “Heck no, Delroy, talk away. What else do you have?”

  “I spoke to my client about the items found in her carriage. It seems that she found these things when she was out, trying to help all of these children. They all belong to one of the children helped by these calls, and were either discarded or found in the child’s yard near the road. According to her, they help.”

  “Help? What do you mean they help?” Broyles asked, wanting to know everything he could. It was becoming apparent to him that Claudia may be getting a bond, and he wanted to be able to explain why to the Johnson family in as much detail as possible.

  “Because every day she’s out there, people yell nasty things at her. Every day, it’s either too cold, too hot, or too something else. Every day, she wants to stop, and every day she has to look at what she’s collected. These things, they help her, they remind her why she walks. They keep her going when she wants to quit.”

  The judge chewed his tobacco, reflecting on Delroy’s words. Broyles just looked down. He felt ashamed for one of the very few times in his life.

  “Well, gentlemen, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna grant a bond in this case for, let’s see, thirty-eight thousand dollars. Broyles, you tell the Johnsons that I came by that amount by subtracting sixty-two thousand from the one hundred thousand I was going to set. She got consideration of one thousand dollars for every call she made to help a little one. Also, let them know that, if for some reason she can’t make that bond by the end of the week, I’ll do a signature bond. I’ll be satisfied if she signs her own bond and walks right back home. Oh, and just in case you didn’t hear everything that I just heard, I highly recommend that you find another suspect—and fast. We know she didn’t do anything. Hell, she might be that child’s best chance, given her track record. Anybody got anything to say?”

  Neither man said a word. Delroy kept his glee to himself, and Broyles was busy figuring out how he was going to tell the Johnson family what he learned.

  All three of the men, however, did share one thought. Apparently, Claudia had nothing to do with Ted Johnson’s kidnapping. That was good for Claudia, but bad for Ted. Now they were all back at ground zero, and one very small child was still missing.

  41.

  Racey was driving down Chattahoochee Avenue only minutes after paying his bill at Nuevo Laredo. There, he met an old friend with the tax assessor’s office, an envelope in hand. The envelope was for help in getting a client’s tax assessment on an old warehouse lowered by almost $200,000. After a lunch of lobster tacos and Cadillac crab cakes, not to mention two very large margaritas, Racey should have been happy.

  Unfortunately, he still had his Gratis problem. After Flip’s unexpected meeting with the Bloodsaw brothers, the case got a lot hotter. Racey could feel his own ass starting to slightly sear.

  Fingerprints! Did they really leave prints? Surely not . . . and if they did, why haven’t they been arrested yet? That’d be enough for a small-town sheriff to get a small-town judge to sign a small-town warrant for something, even if it’s only criminal trespass. They get Flip down there, or even Paulie, those two will lose it. If they lose it, then I’m screwed.

  Racey knew from experience that the best way to deal with police was not to deal with them at all. If they couldn’t find a person of interest, they often lost that interest and looked for the next lead. He had to help his investigators get lost.

  With two idiots as loud as Flip and Paulie, getting lost would take some distance. Racey asked a friend with the Atlanta Police Department to check his idiots on the national criminal information database, making sure they didn’t have any warrants that would stop them at the border. Learning that they didn’t have any outstanding warrants—not yet—he sent them down to Cancun. There, he had a friend who ran a down-market resort that would suit the pair just fine. They would have the Caribbean vacation Racey envisioned for himself, with barer thread counts and rougher women, of course. After a few weeks of roasting in the tropical sun and drinking cheap beer, the two would burn through most of the retainer left over from the Gratis case. Racey would miss the money, but he could make more. He couldn’t risk getting implicated in Jewel’s case. His gut told him that the Gratis sale was probably not going to happen, either. The two sisters were too much for him, way too much. They didn’t respond to his stimuli, not as planned, anyway.

  Who the hell knew she’d run to town with a knife in her hand, waving it at any badge she saw with a gun? What the hell?

  Still, he wasn’t ready to wash his hands of the whole matter. He couldn’t. Jewel got arrested for a serious felony because of actions he set in motion. Racey wasn’t sure whether he could make that same felony go away, but he could try to do something for her. He owed her. Racey couldn’t stand to owe anybody, unless envelopes stuffed with cash were involved somewhere down the line.

  Well, damn, son. You’re in a tight. You gotta set things right, and you’ve got very little practice of doing that . . . especially pro bono. You’re just pathetic, dumbass.

  Racey crossed over Piedmont on his way to the office, the Audi humming as he stewed in its leather seats. His mind churned, trying to figure out how to set his moral account with Jewel straight. As he had little practice with that type of accounting, his mind churned slowly.

  A way to achieve balance came to him as he pulled into his drive. Going into the office, he knew the first number he would call. He sat down to make that call, but then stood up almost immediately.

  All right. I’ll make some calls, and we’ll figure out how to get old Jewel out of her little fix. First, though, I need a drink.

  Racey went to the small bar in his office and picked up the morning’s coffee cup. Satisfied it would make a fine martini glass, he poured its cold java into the sink.

  42.

  Delroy was at the jail three hours after the judge set bond to pick up Claudia. Kero offered to drive her home, but Delroy wanted to have a little time alone with his client. Claudia could be difficult to get alone, so Delroy knew that this may be his only shot for the next few days. He waited for her in the lobby. When she came out, she was wearing the same dress from her arrest. She carried her stockings, dirty as they were, in her left hand, wrapped around her equally soiled wig.

  The two walked out to Delroy’s Suburban, Claudia still clutching her wig and stockings as she settled into the front passenger seat. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Claudia asked one question.

  “What about my carriage?”

  Delroy knew the question would be asked and waited a moment before answering. He rolled down his window, letting the warm spring air rush in as he made his way toward town.

  “We can’t get that yet, Claudia. They’re still holding it, as evidence . . . right now, anyway. I’m sorry, I tried to get it, but I couldn’t.” Delroy was telling the truth. He had just finished a heated argument with Tommy about the carriage.

  “Hell, I don’t think she did it, either, Delroy, but I have to keep the damn thing, just in case. If this situation takes another turn, and Claudia was somehow involved, it’ll be my ass if the carriage is gone.”

  Delroy knew Tommy was right, but that didn’t matter. His client would be hurt.

  Hearing that, Claudia just turned her head toward the window and said nothing. The two rode in silence until Delroy parked in front of his office.

  “Why are we here?” Claudia asked.

  “I’m bringing you home, Claudia, but I wanted you to get cleaned up first. We were afraid Jewel might get too upset if she saw you looking like, well, like you just got out of jail, I guess. I got a clean dress for you, and stockings. Miss Toots can help with your hair. A hot shower never hurt anyone, either.” Delroy sm
iled, weakly, as he looked at the side of Claudia’s still-turned face.

  Without a word, Claudia got out and walked up the steps of Delroy’s office. Toots appeared at the front door and waited for her to come up. When Claudia reached the top, Toots wrapped her arms around her and gave her a hug. To Delroy’s surprise, Claudia embraced Toots as well. The two stayed entangled for a good minute until Toots finally relented. She grabbed Claudia’s hand and led her upstairs. Soon, the sound of running bath water gurgled into the stairwell.

  Delroy went inside and poured himself three fingers of Jack Daniel’s. He then went to the living room, where T-Bone was half dozing on top of the couch cushion. The black specter barely opened one eye as Delroy came in. He closed it when Delroy sat down beside him. They sat that way for almost two hours.

  Every now and then, Delroy heard Toots call out to Claudia. “Let me know when you’re decent!” or “Trust me, your hair will look great!” Finally, the stairs creaked as Toots and Claudia made their way back down. Delroy got off the couch and went to the hallway to meet them. T-Bone barely raised his head as he left.

  The Claudia who came down the stairs was in much better shape than the one who went up hours before. Her dress was clean, this one blue with small yellow dots. She wore new stockings, almost shockingly white, but the real difference was her hair. A stubbly, bald head had gone up the stairs. Coming down was a head of thick, well-styled brown hair. Toots had worked some real magic with the wig.

  “Well, now, that looks great, y’all.”

  Toots replied, “Yes, she does look wonderful, doesn’t she?”

  Claudia smiled, just barely, as she got to the bottom of the stairs.

  “You ready to go yet, Claudia? I imagine everybody is looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Almost,” she answered. She hugged Toots again, and then went out the front door.

  Delroy followed her. Instead of going to the Suburban, Claudia sat down in one of the gliders on the front porch. Delroy sat down in the one beside her. Claudia turned to face him, looking Delroy in the eyes for the first time that day.

  “I don’t know what you think about all this, Delroy. I really don’t. I know what I think, though. I know how I feel.”

  Delroy said nothing. He slowly rocked back and forth in the glider.

  Claudia continued. “You came to see me at the jail, to let me know that you had those recordings of me making the calls. I don’t want people to know about them, know about my business, but I’m no good to anybody in jail.”

  Delroy nodded his head and kept his mouth shut. This was the most he’d ever heard her say.

  “I don’t know why it’s so wrong here, dressing how you feel you should, doing the things you feel are right. Folks look at me and don’t say a thing, usually, unless it’s something nasty. Even Kero stopped talking to me, really talking, since I became the me I am now . . . but I’m pretty much the same person I was when we were kids—you know, going everywhere, doing everything together. I can still talk about the same things.”

  Delroy stopped rocking. He tilted his head toward Claudia.

  “Folks won’t go near me to say hi, sit down to break bread, nothing. They think I’ll wear off on them, make them different. I’ve seen mothers move their children out of my path, like if they got too close they would catch something . . .” Claudia started to cry, just barely. “So no, I don’t understand people at all, Delroy. I don’t understand this place at all. I just want to be who I am. I just want to make sure that all the children, the ones whose parents aren’t right, whose mommas don’t care, I just want to . . . I just want to help. So maybe you can help me, and answer something for me that I’ve never been able to answer for myself.”

  “What is that, Claudia?”

  Her tears fell freely now, lightly dropping onto the top of her dress. The small yellow dots looked like daisies bathed in a morning’s dew.

  “How can a place I love so much, filled up with people I love so much . . . How can they all hate me? How is this my life? I’m a person in this world, tryin’ to do right, so why isn’t that enough?”

  The query stopped Delroy cold. Then he was overcome. He was no better than the others. Maybe he didn’t yell bad things at Claudia, but he knew his heart wasn’t right, didn’t accept her for whom she was. More than once he’d considered her, from a distance of miles in his own soul, and shook his head.

  Waves of shame engulfed him. He searched for something to say and came up with nothing. Sensing how lost Delroy was, Claudia touched his arm and smiled at him. Her tears were now gone, quick as a spring shower.

  “Don’t worry, Delroy. That’s a hard question for anyone. It’s hard to know what to do with so much hate. There’s just no place to put it.”

  Delroy looked down as Claudia’s words washed over him. He realized that now, on that porch, the only tears belonged to him.

  43.

  Mister Brother was worried. He heard the news about Claudia, and knew law enforcement would redouble their efforts looking for Baby Brother. Everyone else was worried, too.

  “Look son, we have to figure out what to do about this. We just got Baby Brother back, and we can’t lose him again. You have to do something.”

  Dad looked over his newspaper as he spoke, Mister Brother only able to see his face from the nose up. Mom sat beside Dad, nodding quietly as he spoke. She said nothing, just peeled potatoes. Skins fell into a brown paper bag at her feet.

  “Yeah! Look, how could you let this happen? I mean, I get it, maybe that Claudia person shouldn’t get in trouble, but now look what you’ve made happen. Seriously, what is wrong with you?” Sister chimed in.

  “Look Sister, I have no idea how this is my fault. I wasn’t there. I didn’t do anything. All I’ve done is put us back together, and all you’ve done is complain and—”

  “Stop it now! Stop!”

  Everyone looked at Mom. It was the loudest anyone ever heard her yell, not counting when Dad got too drunk at the Gunters’ Fourth of July pool party. Mom glared at Mister Brother, the paring knife shaking in her hand. She continued.

  “Stop the excuses. You have always made excuses since you were failing math in second grade, and I am over it. You have brought us together, sure, but do we look really happy? I want to let you know something. I’m not happy at all!”

  No one said a word. When Mom was angry, silence was the only defense.

  She continued. “You have brought us together, but what do we do now? Every day it’s the same thing. I cook, your Dad reads his paper, and Sister does whatever she does in her bedroom. This would all be okay, maybe, but we never see you anymore, not since you brought the baby home.”

  Mister Brother was shocked. He’d never heard Mom speak to him, or anyone, with so much anger.

  “You and the baby are always together, always off and going places. Sure, it’s only outside, but that’s more than any of the rest of us get—lots more. Every minute of every day it’s you two, running around, riding around on your little trails in back, or playing in his room.”

  “But Mom!” Mister Brother answered, “You never seem to want to hold him. None of you do.”

  “You will listen to Mom when she speaks, and you will not back-talk her when she’s telling you something!” Dad yelled this time, as loudly as Mom had just moments before.

  This stirred Baby Brother, and he started to cry from his crib in the other room.

  “Great,” said Sister. “There he goes again, always crying when it’s too loud, too cold, too whatever.”

  Mom looked at Mister Brother, her face softening. She smiled at her son.

  “I know you love us and want us to be happy. I know you’re trying. You’ve always tried, even as a very little boy. Come here, sweetie.”

  Mister Brother went to Mom and knelt down at her feet. He leaned over and rested his head on her lap. She stroked his hair, and continued talking.

  “I love Baby Brother, and am so happy you brought him back to us. You hav
e to remember, though: things have changed, and we are all a little different. What’s to stop you two from leaving us? From getting in your car and never looking back? That would be horrible, but it doesn’t have to be like that at all, you know? I know what you should do. Baby Brother isn’t like us, but you want to know something?”

  Mister Brother lifted his head and replied to Mom.“What?”

  “He could be, he could be just like us. Just like the rest of us. All you have to do is try a little harder than you already have, just a little. We are all so close to really being together again, so close.”

  Mister Brother trembled. “But, Mom . . .”

  She stroked his hair again, and laid his head back into her lap.

  “Shhh, shhh. Let’s not talk about this, not right now. Just rest your eyes.”

  Mister Brother closed his eyes and rested, the only sound in the house coming from Baby Brother’s room. The child cried until he was too tired to cry anymore, and then went back to sleep.

  44.

  After leaving Claudia at her house, Delroy drove back home and walked to Daddy Jack’s. He needed a drink. More than that, he needed to talk with Kero.

  As he walked in, he spied Newt at the end of the bar, talking with a young lady. She couldn’t be older than twenty. He made a mental note to remind Kero that all IDs should be checked, regardless of gender. Underage drinking was the quickest way for a juke joint to lose its liquor license. If there was no liquor, all the good barbecue and blues in the world couldn’t save you.

  “Hey, Newt. Kero around?”

  Newt looked up and smiled.

  What a shit-eating grin, Delroy thought.

  “Well, how are you, counselor? Yep, your boy Kero is down in the Rendezvous.”

  Delroy walked down the narrow staircase into the Rendezvous, the bar and blues room downstairs from Daddy Jack’s. This was the room where the real action happened, where on the right night you could find the right person, the right music, and the right drink.