Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery)

by Gligor, Patricia

  He opened his eyes and sat up. At least Mrs. Schweitzer lived well into her eighties, he thought. She had a long and, for the most part, happy life. He held his sister’s picture at arm’s length. “You weren’t so lucky, were you, Mary?” he asked aloud. “You never got the chance to live your life, to fall in love, marry, and have children of your own, children that would be my nieces and nephews. All of that was taken from you and from me by a careless, stupid drunk. In an instant, he ruined both of our lives.”

  He set his sister’s picture down on the bed and picked up his coat, reaching into one of the pockets and pulling out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and stared for several minutes at the line with Ann Kern’s maiden name. “Malone!” he said aloud. He’d done his homework, looked up the family in the church records. Ann Malone Kern’s father was the drunk driver who had killed his sister.

  Slowly, he stood up and gently placed his sister’s picture back on the table. “Mary, at least you’re with God and I know you’re at peace, my love,” he said. As he turned off the light and left the room, he whispered, “If only that were true of me.”

  Chapter 41

  WHERE DID THE TIME GO? Ann wondered as she hurried to make dinner. She reached over to grab a spoon out of the container on the counter that held many of her large kitchen utensils and knocked over her purse. The contents spilled out onto the floor. “Damn!” she exclaimed. She bent down, scooping up her wallet, hairbrush and keys and tossed them back into her purse. The postcard that Lawrence had given her that morning was lying flat on the floor, face up. “SEX OFFENDER NOTIFICATION” was printed in bold black letters across the top.

  Her eyes scanned the card. It listed the name and physical description of a ninety-year-old man the Hamilton County Sheriff’s Office classified as a sexual predator. Ninety years old! How could he be a threat to anyone? she wondered. But, at what age would they draw the line? She knew that it was their responsibility to report any sex offenders who had moved into the area to local residents and, according to the address listed for the man, he lived only a couple of streets away. Evidently, he was convicted a long time ago and either he was recently released or he had just moved into the neighborhood, she reasoned. She looked at the grainy photograph in the right hand corner of a heavy, bald man wearing glasses. He looked ordinary, like people she passed every day on the street. He looked harmless enough but what about all the other perverts out there? The ones that hadn’t been caught? Her shoulders tensed up as she read the rest of the information. The man had served time for child abduction and molestation!

  She went to the kitchen window and looked out, expecting to see Danielle and Davey running around in the backyard but she didn’t see either of them. She went to the kitchen door, flung it wide open and yelled, “Davey! Dani!”

  Within seconds, Danielle appeared in the doorway. “Mom, I can’t find Davey!”

  “What do you mean you ‘can’t find’ him? You two were supposed to stay in the yard.”

  “I know, Mom, but … .”

  Panicked, Ann bolted out the door. “Davey! Davey! Where are you?”

  Several minutes passed as Ann and Danielle searched the backyard.

  “We were playing hide’n seek,” Danielle told her mother. “I was counting to a hundred with my eyes closed and … .”

  Ann’s heart raced. All it took, she knew, was a few seconds to change, even ruin, your whole life. “Davey! Davey Kern! Where are you?” she screamed. Her eyes scanned the yard and, to her dismay, she saw that the gate, which separated the backyard from the side yard and driveway, was open a few inches. She dashed toward it and flung the gate wide open. Where could he be? she silently wondered. Please God, let me find my son.

  The lid of one of the garbage cans alongside the house crashed to the ground, startling Ann, and Davey’s blonde head popped up. “Here I am! I win! I win! Dani couldn’t find me!”

  Ann let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! Young man, you get out of there and in the house right now!” she ordered. She turned to go back to the house.

  Davey climbed out of the trashcan.

  “Gross!” Danielle exclaimed. “Mom, look at him.”

  Ann turned around and saw the remnants of garbage, pieces of wilted lettuce and crumbs, stuck to her son’s hair and clothing. As he started to walk past her with his head down, she reached out and removed a piece of banana peel from the back of his coat. Then she hugged him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. And you get inside and clean yourself up right this minute!”

  “Yeah, Doofus, you stink!” Danielle said, holding her nose as she followed her mother and brother into the house. She took off her coat and hung it up. “Boy, Mom, am I hungry!”

  “I’m starving!” Davey said, shrugging off his coat and dropping it on the floor.

  “Get back here, Davey Kern,” Ann said, grabbing her son’s arm as he tried to dash past her. “You pick up that coat and put it where it belongs.”

  “But Mommy … .”

  “No buts!” Ann said sternly. “Now, both of you, go wash your hands. And, Davey, you go wash everything.”

  When they were settled at the table a few minutes later, Danielle looked over at Ann. “Mom, where’s Daddy?” she asked.

  Ann took a deep breath. “Daddy won’t be home for dinner.”

  “He’ll be here to take us trick-or-treating, won’t he?” Danielle asked.

  “No, honey. I’m sorry. He won’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Daddy has something important he has to do.”

  “Who’s gonna take us?” Davey asked, a worried expression on his face.

  “I am,” Ann replied. “Mrs. Berger is going to give out the candy tonight so I can go out with you two.”

  “But I want Daddy!” Davey whined.

  “Yeah, Mom. Daddy always takes us out,” Danielle argued.

  “Well, I’m sorry but this year he can’t. I know he would if he could. But that’s okay,” she added, seeing the disappointment on her children’s faces. “It’s Mommy’s turn. We’re going to have lots of fun. You’ll see.”

  The three of them ate the rest of their dinner in silence. As Ann watched her two children eat, she felt a twinge of guilt. Should I have told them the truth? she wondered. But how could I tell them that their father is in jail? That he was driving drunk. They both know how wrong that is; they’ve seen all the TV commercials about drunk driving and they’ve learned about it in school. They love their father. I don’t want them to think badly of him. Anyway, how can I explain to them what I don’t even understand? I don’t know any other way to handle this.

  The doorbell rang, jarring her from her thoughts. She glanced up at the clock. It was ten till six. I didn’t realize it was that late, she thought. She pushed back her chair and stood up. “I wonder who that is,” she said. “You two finish your dinner.”

  “I’m done now,” Davey said, slamming his fork down on his plate.

  “Young man, I said, ‘finish your dinner’!”

  Davey started to get up but the expression on his mother’s face warned him that he’d better stay put.

  Ann hurried to the door and looked out the peephole. There was no one there. Annoyed, she stepped away and turned to go back to the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. “It’s not even six yet,” she muttered under her breath. “Can’t these kids wait?” But, she thought, I remember how eager I always was when I was a kid. She smiled as she opened the door and was surprised to see Olivia sitting there in her wheelchair.

  “Liv, I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t hear you come down.”

  Olivia smiled. “Well, believe it or not, Charlie finally got around to fixing the darn lift,” she said, wheeling her chair through the doorway.

  “That’s great. I’ll go tell the kids you’re here. They can’t wait to get going,” Ann said.

  She went into the kitchen. “Listen, you two. You can go get ready now, but put your thermal underwear on unde
r your costumes. It’s pretty nippy out there.”

  “Mom, where’s my costume?” Danielle asked.

  “Oh, sh … shoot,” Ann said. “I haven’t ironed your costumes yet. It’ll only take me a minute.”

  The doorbell rang and, from the kitchen, they could hear the familiar chant, “Trick or treat!”

  “I wanna go now!” Davey yelled.

  “Mom, it’s okay,” Danielle said. “You don’t have to iron them. They’ll be fine.”

  “Now! Now! Now!” Davey chanted, slamming his fist on the table.

  “Stop that this minute, young man. But, okay. Okay. You win,” Ann said, smiling. “Go get dressed.”

  Davey jumped up from his seat, ran into the living room and smiled at Olivia as he grabbed his costume from the ironing board and flew by. Danielle followed at a slower pace.

  “Was that a tornado?” Olivia asked Ann as she walked into the room.

  “Sometimes I think so,” Ann replied. She went out into the hallway and gave each of the trick-or-treaters a handful of candy. She closed the front door, came back into the apartment and took a seat on the sofa across from Olivia.

  “Ann,” Olivia said. “I love the sage green you painted these walls. It’s so calming and it matches the green in your sofa perfectly.” Her eyes scanned the room. “You’ve added such nice touches. Even your accessories coordinate. You really do have an eye for color and a flare for decorating.”

  Ann blushed. “Thanks. We don’t have the time now but you’ll have to come down one of these days and I’ll show you what I’ve done with the other rooms. I had so much fun doing it. In our old apartment, I wasn’t allowed to paint and all the walls were stark white. I’m so glad … .”

  “We’re ready!” Davey announced as he ran into the room. Danielle was right behind him.

  “Oh my!” Olivia exclaimed. “You two look fantastic! Where did you get those beautiful costumes?”

  “Our mom made them,” Danielle replied. “We went to the Halloween store and saw costumes like these but they were really expensive. So, my mom drew a couple of sketches of them and then she got the material and made them.” Dani twirled around in front of Olivia, striking a model’s pose. “Mom’s a good sewer.”

  “Well, she certainly is,” Olivia said, smiling. She looked over at Ann. “These are extraordinary. You’re a woman of many talents, Ann. Why, these costumes are as good as, no, better than, the ones John Berkley has in his shop.”

  Ann smiled. “My grandmother taught me to sew when I was a little girl … .”

  “Mommy, come on,” Davey urged, tugging on Ann’s arm until she stood up.

  Olivia reached into the pocket of her sweater for her digital camera. She held it up. “Would you two mind posing for a couple of pictures?” she asked the kids.

  “But I wanna go now,” Davey whined.

  Danielle grabbed his arm. “Stand still for one minute and smile for the camera,” she instructed him. “Then we can go.”

  Reluctantly, Davey did as he was told and Olivia quickly snapped several pictures.

  “Now, Mommy?” Davey asked.

  Ann grabbed her coat from the living room closet. “I guess we’re going now,” she said, heading for the door. “I hope you kids will be warm enough. Maybe you should take jackets.”

  “We’re fine, Mom. C’mon,” Danielle said.

  “Okay. I’m coming. I’m coming. Liv, if you want anything, just help yourself. We’ll be back by eight.”

  “You go have fun,” Olivia told her. “I’ll be fine.”

  * * * *

  Olivia rolled over to the front window and watched Ann, Danielle and Davey as they headed down the sidewalk. Such a nice family, she thought. I really enjoy having them here. If only David would straighten himself out … .

  I’ve always been fortunate to have good tenants, she thought, picturing Doris Schweitzer, the elderly woman, several years older than her, who had lived in the apartment before the Kerns moved in. She smiled, recalling the many times they’d had coffee together, munching on her friend’s delicious homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, reminiscing about “the good old days.” I really missed her when she had to go into the nursing home, she thought, but it’s wonderful having children living in the house now. There’s something about the sound of children’s laughter that makes a house a home.

  The doorbell rang, jarring her from her thoughts. She opened the door and rolled out into the hallway with one of the large bowls of candy that Ann had set out balanced on her lap. She propped open the front door and peered through the storm door at a group of children who were dressed in a variety of Halloween costumes. There was a devil, three ghosts, a witch, two vampires and an astronaut. She scooped candy out of the bowl and dropped several pieces into each of the children’s bags as they extended it toward her.

  “And who are you supposed to be?” she asked a little boy of about three or four years old who was wearing a black cape and black mask with an attached hood.

  The little boy looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet.

  “He’s very shy and I’ve taught him not to talk to strangers,” a woman, presumably his mother, explained. “He’s Darth Vader. You know, from the movie, Star Wars.”

  Olivia laughed. “I guess I’m more out of touch than I thought. I do remember that one though. Isn’t that the one with the robots?”

  The little boy looked up at her. “R2D2 and C3PO!” he exclaimed.

  “Well, it looks like you’ve made a friend,” his mother said, smiling.

  “Happy Halloween,” Olivia told them as she dropped several candy bars into his bag.

  For the next two hours, she handed out candy, almost non-stop. Twice she had to go back into the Kern’s apartment to refill the bowl. No sooner would she close the storm door than another group of kids would run up the front steps. I forgot how much fun this is, she thought. This is working out splendidly. I’m so glad that I insisted Lawrence go to his convention. This way, everybody’s happy. He’s off doing what he enjoys and I’m having the time of my life!

  She was so busy complimenting the children’s costumes and dispensing candy that she didn’t notice the tall figure directly across the street, leaning against a tree, watching her.

  Chapter 42

  FROM THE WINDOW OF HIS SECOND FLOOR APARTMENT, Bernie watched the last of the trick-or-treaters trudging home, carrying their bags full of candy. In all the years he’d lived there, no children had ever come to his door, asking for candy. Probably, he reasoned, because the building had a security entrance and they’d have to ring the bell of each apartment in order to get in. That took a lot of time and he knew how impatient children could be.

  He smiled to himself, thinking how, on other nights, kids sometimes rang the bell and ran off, just a harmless prank. How many times had he hoisted himself from his recliner in response to the doorbell, only to look out his front window and see that there was nobody there?

  He turned up the volume on his television set. The announcer, Steve Lane, was telling his viewers that there had already been reports of tampering with some children’s candy. He named a street, not far from where Bernie lived, as the location where someone had put ex-lax, a laxative, in chocolate candy bar wrappers and given them out as treats to neighborhood kids. The police, he said, were canvassing the neighborhood, knocking on doors to try to pinpoint the exact house where the person responsible lived. He urged parents to check and double-check their children’s candy, looking for anything the least bit suspicious. “Please don’t assume that you won’t have a problem, even if you only allowed your children to go to the houses of people you know. These days, you can’t be too careful,” the announcer warned.

  He turned off the TV; he’d heard enough. Everything’s changed so much since I was a cop on the streets, he thought not for the first time. There’s always been violence and there have always been lunatics out there and I’ve seen more than my share of evil but, anymore, that’s about all you hear about:
senseless, brutal crimes.

  Crime used to be about passion or personal gain; as bad as that was, at least it made some sense. A man, in a moment of rage, kills his wife when he finds her in bed with another man. Or, someone robs a bank, obviously, for money. Of course, there were always acts of vandalism, mostly by kids who had too much time on their hands and not enough parental supervision. But where’s the motivation in so many of the crimes today? he wondered. What possible pleasure could anyone take in putting ex-lax in children’s candy? Really, how sick would a person have to be? What do they stand to gain? He didn’t understand it.

  He leaned back in his recliner and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he fell asleep and began to dream. He smiled as he slept. In his dream, he was no longer Bernie though; he was Jeremy. That was his middle name, what Olivia, the love of his life, had called him back then. He was a young man again, just turned nineteen, in love with the most beautiful girl in the world who had long, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was hurrying to meet her in the orchard behind her father’s house. They always met at the same time every night.

  It was cold out. He shivered as he waited beneath the gnarled branches of the old Osage orange tree. It was their tree, the place they always met. He was thinking that he probably should’ve worn a warmer coat but he knew that, once he saw Olivia, he would take her in his arms and forget all about the cold. He loved her; he wanted to marry her and raise a family with her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  He glanced down at his wristwatch. She should be here any minute. He heard the rustling sound of feet shuffling through dried, fallen leaves and glanced up, eager to see her. But it wasn’t Olivia walking toward him; it was her father. Bernie would never forget the menacing expression on his face and the look in his eyes; it felt like hatred. He grabbed Bernie roughly by the arm, glaring at him. He released Bernie’s arm and stabbed a pointed finger against his chest.