by Ines Saint
Josh looked at him appreciatively. “That’s pretty thorough. And it sounds like it could work.” He leaned forward. “It’s Cher.”
Jamar looked confused. “Cher? What about Cher?”
“The old nickname—it’s Cher.”
“Why the hell are you telling me?” Jamar gave him a comical look.
“You asked if she had a special nickname for me.”
“It was rhetorical and you know it. I don’t want to know anything about you and your ex’s kinky history.”
Josh laughed, and it felt good to release some of the pent-up tension. “It’s not kinky. I dressed up as Alice Cooper one Halloween for a party at her old sorority, but she got all mad and wouldn’t get out of the car with me because she thought my wig was too straight and made me look more like Cher.”
“Well, she sounds like a handful,” Jamar said while checking his cell phone.
Josh sobered. “She was. Back then, the constant conflict made it all feel intense.”
“Been there, done that, and never wanna go back.” Jamar got up. “Anyway, it says here that her lifestyle segment airs at eight. I’m guessing she probably has to be in for hair and makeup by six-thirty. I’ll buy the phone tonight and meet you back here tomorrow at six fifteen, Cher.”
“Don’t call me that—you’ll blow my cover.”
That night Josh couldn’t catch a wink. He couldn’t keep himself from coming up with theories, even though none of them led anywhere. Finally, he gave up trying to make sense of it all. It would be a waste of time until they had more leads. He picked up the Clyde Cupcake files instead and began to read, his interest soon caught by what Judge Monroe had uncovered. The last page was missing, though, and he looked around for it until voices outside brought him to the window.
When he looked out, he saw a man carrying Hope into the building, while Alex held the door open and Gracie followed him in. No alarm had gone off, but Hope definitely looked like she was asleep. All he could surmise was that after the long day, Hope had forgotten to set the alarm at her door, had gone off sleepwalking, and the man had found her. The thought chilled him. Truth was, anyone could’ve found her. She was lucky it had been someone who seemed to know the family.
Josh picked up the night-vision binoculars Jamar had loaned him and looked out across the river because he was looking out the window anyway. Nothing there. Good. It would be a shame if Hope’s privacy were violated, too.
He lay down on the mattress, hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling for hours until his eyes and mind grew tired and he dozed off. The nightmares that followed were ridiculous. Gracie was trying to escape from the Wicked Witch of the West, who was trying to smother her to death with pink frosting, until Gracie finally managed to swallow enough frosting to free her mouth and bite the Wicked Witch’s hand.
Chapter 16
Gracie went through her morning routine feeling like a zombie. Today she’d face her colleagues and everyone in the courts building as Gracie Piper, after not catching a wink the night before. She had no idea what the new day would bring. The only way to move forward was to feel nothing. Diane had called to offer support, telling her to focus on getting the job done so she could get the hell out of Dodge and get her peaceful life back. It sounded like a plan. Notoriety wasn’t her thing.
When she got to the front of the building, George and his husband, Eduardo, were waiting for her. No words were exchanged, only hugs. A cool breeze swept up dry leaves and swirled them around, adding to a brief, peaceful moment of comfort somehow. It was only a season; it would soon be over.
It wasn’t until all three were in the elevator that George took her hand and said, “Fear of rejection, left over from youth. We have more in common than just a flair for workplace design. Today I’m going to introduce everyone to Eduardo, so you and I can face our fears together.”
Gracie squeezed his hand. “Oh, George, no one will reject you. Besides, you never made a mistake. It’s other people’s fault, and their loss if they reject you.”
Eduardo peered into her face, his eyes reflecting surprise. “What are you saying? That you deserve to be rejected because you made a mistake? That’s crazy thinking.”
George took her shoulders and made her face him. “Gracie Piper was never a mistake. And I think you know that.”
Gracie drew in a breath. “You’re right. And I do know it. But I feel naked and it makes me feel as though it’s all right if people avert their eyes. That’s what I would do if someone were to walk into the elevator naked.”
“But you’re not naked. You’re covered in professionalism and humanity. And if others can’t be professionals or humane, then they’re the ones who are buck naked, and they’re butt-ugly, too, and that’s how you have to picture them. Now, picture yourself as you are! Professional and human!” Eduardo ordered as he looked up to see they were nearing their floor. “And hurry!”
Gracie laughed nervously but did as she was told, and it was surprisingly easy. It was about seeing herself as she knew she was in her own mind, as opposed to projecting who she thought others would see when they looked at her. “Neat trick.” She opened her eyes just as the elevator doors slid open.
Her entire team was there, and they were all wearing tentative smiles and holding up a makeshift sign that read, “We’ll Follow Your Lead, Boss.” She got the message, and tears welled up in her eyes. Whether she wanted to address yesterday’s news or not, how they proceeded was entirely up to her. But no matter what, they were there to do a job and they’d follow her lead.
“Thank you,” she choked out. After swallowing past a huge, wet lump in her throat she whispered, “You helped plan this, didn’t you?” to George.
“Of course. We planned it yesterday when it all came out,” he whispered back before turning to the group. “So, everyone, I’d now like you to meet my husband, Eduardo. Eduardo, this is . . .” and he proceeded to introduce their coworkers, effectively taking the attention off her, which was exactly what she needed because other than thank you, she didn’t know what to say.
As the group in front of her talked among themselves, Rachel Foster made her way to the elevator, casually reading the sign her colleagues were still holding as she slowed. Rachel’s green eyes met hers for a brief moment before they glanced up at the floor numbers on top of the elevator. It had all happened in a flash, but something about the look gave Gracie pause.
The moment he was gone, Eduardo sidled up to her and grumbled, “Talk about buck naked and butt-ugly.”
Gracie looked up at him, surprised. “You saw that?”
He nodded. “She thought she was being all cool and casual, but we’re both feeling hyperaware, so we caught it.”
“It wasn’t a judgmental look, though,” Gracie said after a moment, trying to put her finger on why it had felt antagonistic.
“Do you know her?” Eduardo asked.
“I know who she is—she’s one of the two people running against Josh Goodwin for county prosecutor and she’s one of the division chiefs here.”
Eduardo considered her for a moment before shrugging. “I guess it would make sense she’d give you a dirty look—you made her opponent look pretty good yesterday.”
Gracie didn’t think that deserved a dirty look, not when she’d been forced into defending both Josh and herself against ugly lies, but it didn’t make sense to keep discussing it with Eduardo. “Let’s forget about her and join everyone else.” It was frustrating to know Josh was in the building and that he’d want to know about the odd little moment but that she couldn’t risk bringing either of them any more unwanted attention or distractions. They had jobs to do.
She glanced at her watch. They had to get started on interviewing clerical staff today, which would be uncomfortable for her, even though listening to them was usually her favorite part. It was through listening that the details of the final design came to life in her head, when she could imagine real people with real needs.
Next on the list w
as administrative. These included the division chiefs and assistant prosecutors, who spent over half their time in meetings, depositions, and court. She’d even had to schedule interviews with Judge Marsh and two assistant prosecutors the Friday after Thanksgiving at the diner near the courts because the courts building would be closed and it was the only free time they had. Not that Gracie minded. She preferred to keep moving, even if it was on a free day. Maybe one day, when she had more of a life, she’d mind. And that would be the day she’d go off on her own.
* * *
The throwaway phone Jamar had gotten for Josh rang at around three in the afternoon, just as Josh was getting ready to leave for court. He picked up the voice changer, and, feeling slightly ridiculous, answered, “Hello?” Hoping it was Linda and that Jamar’s plan had worked.
“Josh? Is that you?” Linda’s voice came through.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said, staring up at the ceiling, briefcase in hand. “Do you want to talk about the story or not?”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Moving on. You visited someone the other day and you told him you had nothing to do with the lies leaked to the media—”
“I meant that,” she said quickly. “I had nothing to do with it.”
He got right to the point. “Do you know who does?”
Silence.
“Is it your husband?” he asked.
A strong, “No” was followed by an aggravated sound, and he was worried she’d hang up. Part of him wanted to threaten her, tell her that he’d be happy to spread about that she, Linda Konitz, was the one who’d started the ugly rumor about him and Gracie—a young girl who was already beaten down enough—nine years before.
Instead, he thought about the fact that she had a family now. “Look, you said you needed someone who appealed to your better angels. I’m doing that. You have no reason to cooperate, and yet it felt like you wanted to get something off your chest on Saturday. Maybe it’s because you want to make amends. It would certainly go a long way with me.”
Silence again, but at least she was still on the line. After a long while she asked, “Are you recording this?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Right.” She sounded as if she wasn’t sure she could trust him. But finally, after drawing a breath, she said, “It wasn’t my husband. But through him, I was asked to leak the old story to the station as a source, as if I’d personally seen something all those years ago. They knew the station would believe me, and that my identity would be protected as a source. I refused and I was . . . unhappy that my husband decided to be an intermediary. For reasons you probably figured out on Saturday, he decided I couldn’t be trusted and wouldn’t tell me who was behind it. I’ll never be perfect, Cher, and I don’t think I’ll ever be kindhearted, but I don’t want to be a shitty person either.” With that, the line clicked.
Josh stared at the phone for a moment, relieved that the call had actually led to new information but upset he couldn’t follow up on the half a dozen thoughts racing through his mind. Max Parker’s arraignment was in half an hour and he needed to be at the top of his game.
Less than two hours later the judge denied bail for Parker, explaining that the seriousness of the charges outweighed the “community ties” and “no priors” argument. But Josh’s triumph in the decision was tempered by the knowledge that Max Parker was one of the people with a strong motive and the means to keep Josh out of the prosecutor’s office.
Josh fished out his cell phone to call his boss with the news but frowned when he saw he had more than a dozen missed calls and thirty-three texts. A call from Helen came in, then, and he immediately answered, saying, “Just who I wanted to talk to,” by way of answer.
“I know, I know,” she replied, sounding harried. “I’m sorry I left you so many messages, but I wanted to keep you abreast of the situation. You can relax. They’re no longer at the county jail. They were released on bond.”
Josh stopped short. “What are you talking about? Who was arrested?”
* * *
Paige fisted her hands. “Impersonating caterers to break into Mrs. Wolf’s property and search it?” she hissed in her scary, poltergeist-like voice. “What in God’s name were you three thinking? When word gets out, all the good our press conference did yesterday will be nullified!”
“Well—” Ruby began, but she was cut off by Hope.
“Don’t answer. You’ve been charged with criminal trespassing and disorderly conduct. You’re facing a four-thousand-dollar fine and up to twelve months in jail,” she said in a voice so low it was shaking. “Obviously you weren’t thinking.”
Ruby shrugged, which made Gracie throw her hands in the air. “Did you see that?” she asked her sisters. “She shrugged. She actually just shrugged!”
Rosa looked at them as if she couldn’t believe their gall. “I have to say, I don’t like the way you’re talking to us. First you use God’s name in vain. Then you treat us like wayward children. Our lawyer told us the most we’ll get is probation. We have it all worked out.”
Grandma Sherry turned to Rosa with gritted teeth. “He said that’s the most we’ll get if we show remorse and cooperate. Lecturing the judge as if you’re the queen of all earth,” she said, poking Rosa in the chest, “and he’s one of your subjects, is not showing remorse or cooperating.”
That shut Gracie, Paige, and Hope up. Grandma Sherry was never angry at her friends. She was the most easygoing and tolerant person anybody knew.
“Don’t. Poke. Me.” Rosa narrowed her eyes dangerously.
“Yes. Don’t poke her. It doesn’t matter how she spoke to the judge. He’d look like a bully if he sent us to jail. We can look old and elicit sympathy when we need to.”
Sherry turned to Ruby. “Yes, we can look old! Because we are old. Too old to be flirting with the judge! You looked ridiculous, fluttering your eyelashes and offering to read his palm.”
Ruby gasped and Rosa took her hand and patted it before turning on Grandma Sherry. It was a first. Usually, Ruby and Rosa were the ones at each other’s throats and Grandma Sherry was the one trying to keep the peace. “So that’s how it is,” Rosa began. “After so many years. This is what you really think of us. Ruby is ridiculous and I am imperious.” Her free hand went up to her heart.
Grandma Sherry looked incredulous. “After so many years? Are you kidding me? I’ve said so before, but you two never listen. Like the time we were stopped in Mexico—”
Ruby gasped again. “We said we’d never speak of that!”
“Then how about the time at the hospital—”
“That was part of a pact!” Rosa’s eyes flashed. “We were keeping our promise to you!”
“You were only supposed to smuggle it into the room, not kiss the doctor and make the nurse cry! It was just like today!” Grandma Sherry yelled back.
They began shouting over one another, and Gracie couldn’t follow what they were saying, which really wasn’t fair because it all sounded infinitely interesting. “Stop!” she shouted when the bickering reached the noise level of a jailhouse brawl.
They all stopped. Grandma Sherry, at first defiant, must’ve noticed the tired look in Gracie’s eyes because she instantly dropped her shoulders, sat down on the stool behind her, and said, “We’re sorry. We thought we could find the copy of the tape Mrs. Wolf threatened you with so she would never have anything to hold over your head again.”
Gracie sat down on the stool farthest away from her grandmother, not knowing what to feel. Grateful? Angry? She sighed. “I told you I had talked to her. She never had a copy, and she even apologized.”
Ruby sat down next to her. “We heard you, but we don’t believe a word that comes out of that witch’s mouth!”
Rosa sat on her other side. “And we had a viable plan. If we’d had a little more time, we would have found the copy of the video.”
Behind her, Gracie heard Hope sigh. “A viable plan, Rosa?”
“Yes. The witch wasn’t home. She was hosting a dinner for some women’s civic club she belongs to tonight and her assistant was in charge. We went to her caterers, told them Mrs. Wolf was sick and would be canceling, and that they wouldn’t be needed, but that she had instructed us to buy the food and take it to her church. We then drove over to Mrs. Wolf’s and Ruby and I set up while Sherry searched the safe in the study,” Rosa explained. Incredibly, even after being caught, she sounded proud of the plan.
Hope and Paige sat down, then, too. “I don’t even know where to start.” Paige shook her head.
“Start with the safe, please. I’d love to know how you found out about that,” a dry female voice said from the door.
All six of them swirled around. “Mrs. Wolf!” Gracie cried.
Grandma Sherry shot up. “Call the police,” she ordered. “We’re closed and she’s trespassing!”
Gracie rubbed her temples.
Ruby got up, too. “How did you get inside here without us hearing the jingle?”
“My guess is you were calling me a witch too loudly to hear the door.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a slight, self-mocking smile.
Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you announce your presence?”
“Once you started talking about your plan to break into my house, I had to listen.” She shrugged one shoulder, then, and a sliver of the remorseful older woman Gracie had seen the other day broke through the stony face.
“Why are you here?” Hope intervened, finally getting down to what really mattered.
Mrs. Wolf took a deep breath and Gracie noticed that her hands, which were folded in front of her, spasmed. “I’m here to inform you that I’m not pressing charges. I didn’t learn you were the trespassers until after I got home from the hairdresser and the house was in a hoopla. But once I did, I figured out what you were up to, and I understood. I can’t do anything about the disorderly conduct charge, though. You resisted arrest, and that’s a matter between you and the police people you tried to get away from.”
