Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2)

by Kappes, Tonya

  “Did they say anything else?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “Funny accent though.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Not from around here.” He stood back up and started to walk up the embankment.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Cracked Egg. I need some food.”

  “Wait!” I yelled. “Are you sure they didn’t say anything else?”

  Charlie didn’t answer.

  Willie was telling me the truth. He didn’t rob the bank, nor did he kill the people.

  “Ohmygod!” I threw my hand over my mouth. The awakening realization hit me like a Mack truck. “He was going to marry me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Not that my feelings for Willie were the same feelings of love because over the years I had reached the point where any feelings I had for him were suppressed and resolved. In fact, my feelings of hatred still left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Now I was on a mission to get those keys and right a wrong, even though I knew there couldn’t be a future with Willie. . .could there?

  Derek was going to be mad as a wet hen when he figured out I didn’t quite make it past Porty Morty’s. Who knew there was so much trash along the riverbanks? I did fill up a couple garbage bags and threw them in the dumpster on my way to the Old Girl.

  I peeled off the jumpsuit and stuck it back in the duffle bag, throwing it on the passenger side of the car.

  “Ah. . .” I let out a big sigh when my butt hit the seat and I leaned my head on the back of the seat. “How the hell do I get myself in these situations?”

  For about a minute I contemplated my own question before I started the car and took a right on River Road. I took a left on Second Street. I couldn’t help but look in the parking lot of Lucky Strikes when I passed; Sally Bent’s car could not be seen around town now that she was killed, so I couldn’t tell if Willie was in there or not this early.

  I wouldn’t doubt it. He lived on beer and cigarettes for breakfast.

  The Cracked Egg had the usual traffic for the morning crowd. There wasn’t a parking spot in front on the street, but the lot of Friendship Baptist was empty and it was right across the street on the corner of Second and Main. Perfect, since the church was my final destination.

  “Good morning,” Gia called out when I came in.

  She had tried, and I mean tried, to smooth back her curly black hair into a slick ponytail, wearing the usual The Cracked Egg uniform.

  I took my seat at my usual stool at the counter and waited for her to finish taking an order from a six top in the corner filled with federal agents.

  “Damn,” Gia chomped passing by the stool and making her way behind the counter. She grabbed the pot of coffee because she knew exactly what I wanted. She flipped the white cup in front of me over and poured. “Willie Ray Bowman isn’t going to make it out of Walnut Grove alive.”

  “What do you mean?” My brows furrowed.

  “While I was taking their food orders,” she nodded toward the group of agents. “One of them said a message had come through from the top saying Willie was a shoot to kill.”

  My stomach sank when sheer black panic rolled through my body. Time was not on my side. Eventually they were going to find him.

  “They are bringing in dogs,” Gia muttered uneasily. “I know you are doing something because of your strange behavior. And I think you need to let him know what is going on.”

  The bell over the diner door rang. Pastor Wilson, his wife Rita, and a few of the Holy Rollers walked in.

  “Laurel,” Pastor Wilson walked up to the counter while Rita gave a to-go coffee order to Gia. A shadow of annoyance crossed his face. “The church parking lot is not your personal parking space. I’d appreciate it if you would move your car ASAP.”

  “I will when we get back from volunteering at the prison.” I held my finger in the air to Gia. “Mine to go too please.”

  Gia wavered, trying to take in what she had heard me say.

  “Excuse me?” Rita asked, pushing Pastor Wilson out of the way.

  Her short red hair was shaved as close to her head as it could be without mistaking her for a boy, unlike Pastor Wilson’s thinning hairline. It did look good on her, but she sure didn’t look good on Pastor Wilson’s arm. He stood six foot three and looked very slender in his dull grey suit. He had a pointy nose. Rita’s was a button nose.

  “I said I was going to go with you to volunteer at the prisons.” I stood up and laid a dollar on the counter for a tip.

  “Oh no,” Gia grinned and pushed the dollar back to me. “This right here,” she gestured between me and the Baptist crew, “is plenty of a tip to make me happy.”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Rita shook her head and started to gather the Holy Rollers like she was a preschool teacher gathering the kids from the ice cream truck. “We won’t be having any criminal on our bus to visit criminals.”

  “That’s right.” Norma Allen’s nose scrunched up along with the top of her lip.

  “You know what, Norma. . .” I stopped when I felt a hand on my arm.

  “I think it would be good for Laurel London to see the inside of a prison.” Sharon Fasa encouraged them to let me go. “We can minister to her the entire way there.”

  I glared at her. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to be brow beat with the bible.

  “You might be right.” Pastor Brown face clouded with uneasiness. “She could use a little Jesus in her soul.”

  “Fine.” Rita whipped out her wallet from the handbag dangling from the crook of her arm. “Here you go.” She handed the money to Gia.

  Everyone grabbed his or her to-go coffee. I turned around to get a good look at Gia. She made the gesture to call her and I winked.

  The bus was a long yellow one from the Walnut Grove school system. There was no way they had gotten new buses since I was in school. I swear the tear on the back of the seat in front of me was made by me.

  The education system tried to incorporate the orphans into their no child left behind clause, but no one wanted to ride the bus with us. That was how I knew it was our bus.

  I jumped up and headed to the last seat, passing Charlie Haskel on the way.

  “Scoot it,” I nudged Sharon Fasa over.

  “There isn’t enough room for the both of us in the little seat.” She harrumphed.

  I stuck my butt in and scooted her over myself. There was plenty of room, for the moment.

  I ran my hand along the seams of the pleather seat and when I found the hole I was looking for, I knew it was the orphan bus. I stuck my finger in the hole and worked it along the seam, popping the stitches.

  “What are you doing?” Sharon’s eyes flew open. She held her heart. “You are going to give me a heart attack right here on this bus and this is not the way I want to die!”

  “Shh.” I squinted my face. “It’s fine.”

  My fingers stopped when I felt the piece of paper I was looking for. I pulled my empty hand up when I heard the bus brakes come to a screeching halt. Pastor Wilson tugged on the contraption to open the rusty bus doors. They squealed opened. An FBI officer with a gun strapped across his body stepped on board. He and Pastor Wilson said a few words before the agent walked down the bus aisle looking at every passenger.

  Shit! Did they catch Willie and he tattled on me for helping him? Aiding and abetting wasn’t on my list of petty crimes. I guess they could just drop me off to the women’s prison instead of volunteering.

  “Let me over.” I threw a leg over Sharon to get next to the window.

  Her teeth gritted and her face held a stern look. She elbowed me, not letting me over. She flung her back to me, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  “Is there something going on back here?” The officer’s feet were firmly planted on the aisle next to our backseat. He had his hand on the gun.

  “No sir,” I shook my head without giving him eye contact. If they were looking for me, my unusual
gray eye color would be a dead giveaway I was me.

  “Do I need to get the bus monitor?” He laughed at his own joke before he turned around and walked back down the aisle, said a few words to Pastor Wilson and walked off the bus.

  Pastor Wilson looked in the big rear-view mirror hanging off the windshield. His eyes focused on me. We held the glare for a moment before he shut the door of the bus and put it in drive.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The agent put a little fear in me along with Pastor Wilson’s stare. The FBI was obviously checking every car going out of Walnut Grove and bus for that matter. I had given up on what I was after in the seat and Sharon wasn’t going to let me get it anyway. I’d have to wait until she wasn’t sitting there. I was determined to get that seat on the way home. I moved a couple seats up and jiggled around the entire two-hour drive.

  My butt was sore, I was hungry and I had a headache from trying to figure out how I was going to get into the library.

  “Hey, Charlie.” I got his attention.

  “Yeah.” He turned around. His knit cap was tugged down on his head. His beady eyes stared at me.

  It took everything I had not to hold my nose from the stink coming off him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I go for the free cookies.” He grinned his gummy smile and turned back around.

  The Castle on the Cumberland was a big old concrete building. It was actually beautiful on the outside. The stone structure was built solid. The green from all the roof pitches could be seen miles away. Chills crept up my body when we pulled through the gates of the barbwire fence. I could imagine the lights around the outside of the place when they fired up Old Sparky, Eddyville’s infamous electric chair.

  I gulped, knowing Willie had a date with Old Sparky for killing—or being accused of killing—the tellers and FBI agent. Now his fate was in my hands or from a bullet since the agency had ordered “shoot to kill”.

  The squeal of the doors opening caught my attention. A man in a blue uniform stepped on with a clipboard. He took everyone’s name and gave us each a visitor’s badge. After that, he instructed everyone the rules: no touching, no personal talking, no leaving the common area, etc…. I pretended not to hear the part about the common area.

  “Everyone has a bag of Christian material with them as usual.” Pastor Wilson informed him. As on cue, all the Holy Rollers lifted a small bag in the air. I followed along and lifted the duffle bag.

  I had brought it as a cushy pillow. I grabbed it and followed everyone’s lead out of the bus and through the metal detectors clearing us through the security.

  The inside was exactly how I had envisioned a prison to be. Cold, musty, and sad. Images of Willie Ray sitting in here made my heart hurt. Though I’d taken pleasure visualizing it for the past few years, it was when I thought he was guilty. Now I felt bad.

  Once inside, we had to go through another set of metal detectors, which took forever since the Holy Rollers had started spreading the gospel. Everyone in the group, including Charlie Haskel, gave a “God Bless You” as the correctional officer patted down their private parts.

  There was a picture on the wall of a sketch of the inside of Eddyville. I stepped closer and took a good look. The big yellow star showed where we were. My eyes scanned the floor plan, searching for the library, the only place I needed to be.

  “Where do we meet with the prisoners?” I nudged Rita.

  She clung onto the bag across her chest like a shield. “They have the common area set up with small café-like tables and two chairs. One for you and one for them.”

  “Where on here?” I asked and pointed to the framed floor plan. I hurried her along because she was next. Then me to be frisked.

  “Right around the corner.” Rita grabbed her glasses, hanging from the chain around her neck, and propped them up on her nose. “Here.” She jabbed the plastic frame.

  “Next!” The correctional officer snapped the edge of his gloves.

  Here, here. I scanned the pictures seeing the distance and what was between the library and the common area where Rita said we were going to be.

  The rooms weren’t far from each other. In fact a bathroom was in between, but there was a security check I would have to get through. Damn.

  “Next!” The correctional officer stuck his finger in the air and summoned me over with the come here gesture. “New one this week.” He grinned an evil grin under his Hitler mustache, dark eyes, and high and tight black hair. Arrogance oozed out of him.

  “Yep.” My brows rose, I planted a fake smile on my face and stepped forward with my hands in the air.

  “Take the bag from around your body and stick it on the ground,” he ordered. His voice loud.

  I took the bag over my head and dropped it on the ground. I looked up to see where everyone was and they had left me. It was only me and the correctional officer.

  “So,” his eyes lowered to my chest. Many times I had used my assets to get what I wanted but today was not one of those times. “Jesus Jugs, you gonna reform all these boys with a secret weapon?”

  Jesus Jugs? Gee, couldn’t he think of a better nickname. Loser.

  “You okay, Laurel?” Charlie Haskel appeared out of nowhere. He stood behind the correctional officer.

  “Move along,” the officer straightened up and pointed toward Charlie.

  “I’m fine.” I grabbed my bag, thankful Charlie came back and happy the officer didn’t look into my bag with my trash collecting uniform in there.

  “I’ve heard the officers were as shady as the clients.” Charlie muttered when I walked by him.

  “Thank you.” I took a deep sigh of relief. “You are a lifesaver. Not that I was in trouble.”

  “Laurel, no one ever notices me.” He smiled his toothy grin. “They think I’m stupid or something.” He used his dirty finger and tapped the top of his black knit hat. “I know things.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I laughed and walked into the common area.

  The windows overlooked the outside courtyard. The basketball court was filled with sweaty, some balding, many tattooed, shirtless men pushing off each other trying to snag the one ball. They had on different colored inmate outfits. I zeroed in on the orange ones. It matched the one in my duffle bag. . .perfectly.

  There was weight equipment scattered around, filled with the same sort of clients.

  One of the inmates looked up at the glass. His eyes met mine. The steel blue eyes twinkled, the smile a million bucks, and the wink was undeniable.

  “Johnny Delgato,” I grimaced.

  He blew me an air kiss. I whipped around. My heart pounded in my chest.

  I had forgotten Johnny Delgato was sent here because of me. Johnny Delgato was the hottest guy that ever graced the streets of Walnut Grove. A real ladies man. He spent many years trying to get in my pants, until one fatal day.

  Walnuts, big walnuts, were all over Walnut Grove. I had never researched our town, but I’d have to say that was how our town of twelve thousand was named. Regardless, as an orphan, there was plenty of down time and nothing better to do then chuck walnuts at trees.

  I had to admit, I had a pretty good arm and I knocked the piss out of Johnny, knocking him out cold.

  A few months ago, I was in a sticky situation with an arms smuggling mobster and Johnny was part of his posse. Needless to say, I knocked him out one last time with a walnut before he got arrested and sent here.

  “The inmates will be in here in about ten minutes,” the man informed us. The Holy Rollers had unzipped their bags and pulled out several copies of the Baptist devotional Open Windows. They stacked a few bibles on their tables along with some cookies and treats.

  I glanced back out the window, but he was gone.

  “Did you not bring anything?” Sharon asked in a hushed voice; my gaze slid from the outside to her.

  “No.” I bit my lip. Where in the hell did Johnny go?

  “Excuse me,” I spoke up. “Can any of th
e inmates come in here?”

  “No,” the officer gave me a good onceover. “They have to sign up.”

  Shoo. My heart felt a little better. Johnny Delgato was far from religious and he would have no way of knowing I was going to be there. Hell. . .I didn’t know until early this morning.

  I didn’t have time to witness to these people. I didn’t know a thing about it, though I know I could fudge my way through.

  “Here.” She shoved a couple things in my arms. I took note and stacked them on the small round table with two chairs where I guessed I was to meet with each inmate.

  Even Charlie had a few items at his table. He strolled around looking at each Holy Roller’s table taking a cookie here and there.

  “Charlie.” I elbowed him. “I need to borrow your hat.”

  “Huh?” He drew back, nose curled.

  “Just for a few minutes. I promise,” I crisscrossed my fingers on my chest. “I’ll give it right back.”

  He slipped it off his head exposing the little bit of peach fuzz he had on his head and handed it to me. I pinched the edge of it and took it back to my table. I stuck it in my duffle bag.

  “Excuse me.” I raised my hand like I was in grade school. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “First time anxiety?” A creepy grin crept up on the correctional employee’s face. “They are going to fight each other going to your table.” He pointed through the door. “Right through there.” He said a couple things on the walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder, the door buzzed and I walked right on through with my bag in my hand.

  I didn’t know if my plan was going to work, but it was the only one I had. And if I was going to keep Willie from being electrocuted, killed by the guys who Charlie had overheard, or shot, I had to execute my plan. No pun intended.

  The women’s bathroom was right outside the door from the common area the Holy Rollers had set up. I needed to be on the other side of the cage. I had only a few minutes to get to the library and get out.

  “Thank you, Derek.” I patted the bag and dipped into the bathroom. “Still saving my ass and not realizing it after all these years.”