Trouble in a Big Box (A Kelly O'Connell Mystery)

by Alter, Judy

  “Maybe the Mustang was so old it stopped running,” Keisha suggested.

  “Mustangs never wear out.”

  “So go out there and ask them why they changed cars.” She was laughing at me.

  Instead, I snuck out the emergency door at the back of the building and went to my car, thinking I’d eluded Sonny Adams or whoever was driving that car.

  Mike was waiting at home but it took a good ten minutes to get him down the ramp, into the car, and then load his walker. He managed to move along with a kind of hopping movement so that he didn’t put weight on his bad leg. It was an awkward gait, and I didn’t like watching.

  We were both silent, lost in our own thoughts I guess. But as I drove east along Rosedale, Mike asked, “Are you aware a green car is following us? A Nova, I think.”

  My heart jumped. “Why would anyone follow us?” I tried to downplay his suspicion. “I’m sure it’s just someone headed the same direction as we are.”

  “Picked it up when we crossed Allen Street,” he said calmly. “Staying a couple cars back but in the other lane to keep an eye on us. Not a really clever tail.”

  “Well, let’s just ignore it. It probably isn’t anything.”

  “Take a sudden right without signaling,” he directed. “Then hit a right again on Magnolia.”

  “We’ll be late for your first appointment,” I warned.

  “I don’t care. We’ve got to find out what’s going on.”

  I followed his direction, and when I turned right on Magnolia, the car sped straight ahead, apparently aware we’d detected him—or her. I wasn’t ready to tell Mike about Sonny Adams yet.

  “You ever see that car before?”

  “No,” I fibbed.

  “You’re hiding something from me, Kelly.” His tone was level, but I knew when Mike was deadly serious.

  “It was across the street from the office this morning. Keisha pointed it out.” I think I added that because I needed a partner in crime.

  Mike said nothing, just stared ahead, and within seconds we were at the rehab facility. “You’re coming in and waiting,” he said. “Then we’ll make a plan.”

  He was not, I thought, in a good mood to begin therapy. “I planned to stay,” I said. “I brought work with me.” And as soon as you’re out of earshot, I’m calling Buck Conroy. As it turned out, I never got that chance. The first session was gentle stretching, and the therapist wanted to show me routines that I could do with Mike at home. He followed every direction, sometimes doing more than he was told, at which point the therapist told him to slow down, and only do what she told him.

  “Straining yourself will slow down your healing process, not hasten it,” she warned.

  At the end of an hour and a half, she gave us a packet of printed instructions and said she’d see us in two days.

  Chapter Four

  After Mike struggled into the car, he was silent until we were almost home. Then in a quiet, determined voice he said, “Green car’s behind us, on our tail. Kelly, I want you to work from home now, until I can protect you.”

  I could see an argument ahead, and I dreaded it. This should have been the happiest time of our lives—Mike was alive, on the way to recovery. We’d come so close to losing what we had together, and we’d been lucky. Yet we were at odds with each other. Blast Sonny Adams anyway! Why couldn’t the entire police department of Fort Worth catch one criminal if they knew who he was and had a history on him? And he was openly stalking one of us, mostly me.

  I got Mike inside the house and seated at the dining table. He watched the noon news, while I fixed ham and cheese sandwiches. I dawdled, almost weighing the ham and cheese and spreading the mayo evenly then deciding it wasn’t even and spreading it again. “Want a beer with your lunch?” I called out.

  “Yeah.”

  Oh, good, he’ll become a daytime drunk while he recuperates. Kelly, you’re just looking for trouble. If he’d said no, you’d have urged him to have one and nap. Snap out of it!

  I’m not sure I exactly snapped out of it. Instead I went on the defensive the minute I sat down, jumping right in: “Mike, I know you’re worried, and I’m scared too—for you, for the girls but not for me. I can’t figure why anyone would want to hurt me.”

  “To get back at me,” he said, but I held up a hand.

  “Wait. Let me finish first. You know darn good and well I can’t work from home. I have houses to show, houses to look at, Anthony’s work to consult on. I have to be out and about in the neighborhood. I can’t hide. Now given that, let’s discuss what we can do to make you feel safer about all of us. For starters, an alarm system for the house?”

  “I can protect my family,” he growled and then looked almost surprised. “I really can’t right now, can I? Okay, an alarm system is a good idea. We should have had one all along anyway. You did at the old house.”

  I got up for pencil and paper and made a note. “I’ll take care of that this afternoon. How about if I call you, say, every two hours.”

  “You’ll forget, and then I’ll be frantic with worry. Kelly, let’s ask Keisha if she’d move into the guest house. The girls would love it.”

  “And what good would it do? Besides, the apartment has become a workout room, with all your equipment.”

  “Well, I can’t work out so we can store the treadmill and the stationary bike. Keisha would be another set of eyes and ears around here, and I don’t know too many grown men that would want to tangle with her.”

  “Mike, I think she’s about to fall in love and it might not be a good time for her to lose her privacy. Besides, Keisha and I see enough of each other every day. I think we’d get seriously tired of the arrangement.”

  “Can you take Keisha with you on your trips around the neighborhood?”

  A deep sigh. “One big reason I hired her is to watch the office.”

  “Hire someone else.”

  “Can’t afford it.”

  We went round and round. I pointed out that I have an alarm on my car. He asked me to carry a whistle, to which I agreed. He made me promise to check the back seat before I got in the car, check my surroundings, be watchful. I promised.

  “One more thing, Kelly, and I insist on this: when you show an empty house, either take Anthony or Keisha with you.”

  That made sense. Over the years there had been incidents of real estate agents lured into vacant houses for other than real estate purposes. In fact, an agent I knew only professionally had been badly beaten in a home near Texas Christian University, the school that was an anchor for the south side of Fort Worth. I was smart enough to avoid unnecessary risk, and I knew Anthony and Keisha would agree to this.

  “You know what? I’ll call a staff meeting, such as it is, when I get back to the office. But I’ll call first and let you know I’m there. I’ll be in the office all afternoon. No running around the neighborhood today.”

  I kissed him, and he held me tight. “You’re too precious to lose.”

  “You’re pretty special yourself,” I said, fighting to keep my tone light. “Be sure to keep your cell phone handy. Maybe we should get you one of those monitors that older people wear around their necks.” Hastily, I added, “Temporarily, of course.”

  He started to protest, but I held up my hand again. “Fair is fair. If you fall and can’t get to your cell phone, you need help. I’ll look into that this afternoon too.”

  I kissed him again and left. I’d forgotten all about calling Buck Conroy until I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the green Nova.

  Keisha greeted me with, “Conroy wants you to call him.” Her eyebrows rose in astonishment when I said, “Good. I want to talk to him.”

  “That’s a first,” she muttered, turning back to her computer.

  I didn’t have time to say hello, before he said, “You can relax. Well, sort of. We picked up Sonny Adams, and I think we scared the daylights out of him. Petty criminal with no spine, not one of those hardened guys. He swears he hasn’t been fol
lowing you, and I almost believe him. Anyway, you shouldn’t have any trouble from now on. He’ll have to appear in court on charges of running a stop sign and leaving the scene of an accident. Doesn’t seem like much punishment for the death of a girl, but he might get some time because it was a fatal accident. He made bond already.”

  I wondered who paid his bond because a “petty criminal” probably didn’t have a lot of collateral. Conroy may have been relieved, but I wasn’t. “Buck, a green Nova followed us all morning. When I took Mike for physical therapy, when we went back home, and when I came back to the office. In fact, it’s parked across the street right now.”

  “I’m on my way. Tell me about the driver.”

  As I said, “Wearing a gimme cap, slumped down in the seat. Can’t tell a thing about him…all morning,” I heard a car door slam and an engine start.

  “All morning, huh? We had Sonny until about thirty minutes ago. It’s somebody else. Damn, damn, damn.”

  Of course, by the time he got to my office the Nova was gone. He didn’t even come in, just honked as he drove by.

  “Keisha, can you get Anthony to come over sometime this afternoon, so we can all meet?”

  “Sure. You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

  “When Anthony gets here.”

  She sniffed and turned away.

  ****

  The alarm company would install the next day—alarms on doors and windows and a separate system for the guest apartment. The monitoring company would send a man out tomorrow morning to explain the system to Mike and get it running. That was one meeting I was glad to miss.

  Turned out there was another meeting I wished I could miss. Christian called from the title company. “Kelly, have you heard the rumor going around the neighborhood?”

  Paranoia is so easy to come by. “About Mike?”

  “No, why would there be a rumor about Mike? How is he anyway? I’m so sorry for you guys. Should have called sooner, even come by, but you know….”

  “Thanks. What rumor?”

  “Tom Lattimore has requested a variance to build a shopping center on Magnolia, anchored by a big-box store.”

  I drew in my breath sharply. “Which big-box store?”

  “An upscale grocery store called Wild Things. I hear they’re going to model themselves somewhat after Central Market or Whole Foods but offer more organic, more local products. Trendy in sophisticated neighborhoods like Fairmount and Berkeley. Apparently a stand-alone now, but they want this one to be a pilot project. Need a big store with lots of parking in front. They’ll landscape the parking lot.”

  All I could manage was a feeble, “Landscaping does little to disguise a parking lot.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We need to work together, get the neighborhood involved to fight this. We’ll have to go before the zoning commission, probably the Landmark Commission, city council, whoever.”

  He stumbled a bit. “Kelly, you know Tom, maybe a little better than some of the rest of us….Can you talk to him?”

  Wow! That was going above and beyond. Tom Lattimore once tried to court me, and then he tried to involve me in a scheme to renovate Chase Court, a rundown but once-grand circle of houses on the edge of Fairmount. I balked, and so far Tom had made no progress on Chase Court. Maybe he’d moved all his eggs to another basket. With a suppressed giggle, I wondered if he’d broken any.

  “I’ll try,” I said. “Over lunch.” I didn’t particularly like Tom. He’s the kind of speculative realtor I’m not, and his schemes make me nervous, including capitalizing on the murder of several old women. I didn’t want to have lunch with him—and Mike had taken an intense dislike to Tom. “Want to join us?” I asked Christian.

  “Nope. I think you’ll do better on your own. He knows he can’t charm me. He doesn’t know that about you, though I do.”

  “Thanks.” Hmmm. Maybe breakfast, not lunch. That was it—breakfast at the Grill.

  But I didn’t leave well enough alone. “Christian, I know John Henry Jackson, chair of the landmark commission. I’ll give him a heads up but I don’t think it would be proper to invite him to our meeting.”

  “Sounds good.” He hung up, and I began to make my phone calls.

  I dialed John Henry Jackson, who always answered his phone himself. His voice boomed into my ear. “Good afternoon, little lady. What can I do for you?” He was as hearty as usual, and I guessed he’d gotten my identity from caller I.D.

  “John Henry, I need to talk to you about a big-box store being proposed for Magnolia. It would violate everything the neighborhood association stands for and require tearing down buildings on the national registry.”

  “Now, Miss Kelly, don’t worry your little head about that. I’ve heard about it, and it ain’t gonna happen on my watch.” I could picture him sitting in his old-fashioned office in front of his big, old roll-top desk, his tie pulled loose, his shirt sleeves stained with sweat. He would be mopping his brow with a huge handkerchief. John Henry was a big man—okay, a fat man—and he had the personal habits that went with being overweight, though he always seemed to have good hygiene.

  For all his heartiness, John Henry didn’t quite reassure me.

  ****

  Anthony came about two o’clock for our “staff” meeting—the idea still made me giggle. But I laid out what was happening about the stalker and about my agreement with Mike.

  Anthony was predictably angry, peering out the window and threatening, “I go get that little SOB myself and beat some sense into him.” We were spared that scene because the car wasn’t there, which of course set me to worrying about where it was. In front of our house? The school?

  When I revealed my promise not to show a house alone, they were in fast agreement and added further threats to those from Mike if I even thought about it. Keisha sensibly suggested I see if I could get a package deal from the alarm company and secure the office as well. I made a note.

  “You want me to move into the apartment?” she asked.

  I looked for signs of hesitation or reluctance, but Keisha had, as usual, put her own life on the back burner. First she moved in with Mom to protect her; now she was willing to move into our apartment. I owed her more than I could ever pay in salary—or repay in kindness.

  “No,” I said gently. “I want you to be free to come and go with José. You worry about me during work hours and that’s all. Boss’s orders.”

  “José?” Anthony asked. “Mother of God, what have I missed now?”

  Keisha told him about José, though she was almost coy and definitely understated in the telling.

  Anthony looked at me. “Miss Kelly, you approve?”

  I laughed. “Yes, Anthony, I do.”

  That satisfied him. As he left, he shook a fist and said, “Next time you see that car, call me right away. I come. And I tell Joe about this.”

  ****

  The green Nova didn’t follow me when I left the office to get the girls from school, but when I reached the school, there it was parked across the street—and empty. Usually I queue up in line with the other cars, waiting for the girls to come jump in, but this time I too parked and got out of the car to join the parents milling around in front of the school, waiting for their children. I scanned the crowd, looking for gimme caps—or, oh absurdity, men with cap lines in their hair. It’s not unusual for dads to pick kids up, so there were several men but no hat lines, and only one gimme cap—on a father I knew. I was so obvious that a few friends asked me who I was looking for.

  “Oh, just a new client. Not anyone you know.” I couldn’t exactly say “the person who’s stalking my family,” could I?

  The girls sensed my mood too. Em, ever perceptive, said, “Mom, what are you doing out of the car, and why are you looking around like that?”

  “Oh, it’s just such a pleasant day I thought I’d get out and enjoy the breeze.” I don’t lie well.

  “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Maggie asked. “Is Mike okay?”

&nbs
p; “Mike’s fine. He’s waiting for you at home. Come on, let’s go.” I hurried them into the car which led Em to protest, “I thought you wanted to enjoy the breeze. Why are we hurrying?”

  The green car was gone.

  I arrived home with a bad case of the jitters, but I didn’t want to tell Mike. After he returned the girls’ hugs and promised to help each one with homework, he said to me, too casually, “Conroy’s coming by for a beer. He wants to talk about that green Nova.”

  I wondered if Mike would ever learn about little ears. Maggie immediately said, “What green Nova?”

  And Mike ever so calmly replied, “The one that’s been following your mom.”

  Maggie folded her arms across her chest and stared daggers at me. “I knew something was wrong. I want to know all about what’s going on.”

  “When Detective Conroy gets here, we’ll all talk about it.”

  All my hand signals and dramatic facial expressions did no good. Mike ignored me. The girls went to their rooms to change, and I clomped about the house seething with anger. Except I wasn’t sure what I was mad at—fate?

  Maggie went to walk Gus around the block, as she did every day after school, though I bit my tongue to keep from warning her about talking to strangers. Maybe she should have a whistle too. I fingered the one I now wore around my neck—such a decorative piece of jewelry.

  Within ten minutes, I thought she’d been gone too long and told Mike I was going to look for her.

  “Kelly, she’s gone this long every afternoon. Sit down and stop pacing.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Well, don’t make her feel like a baby by chasing her. She’ll be fine. She knows the stranger rules, and there are friendly houses along her route.”

  A friendly house has a print of a hand in its window—a helping hand, a signal to children that people in this house will help them if they’re in trouble. Anyone could put a friendly handprint in a front window. How do you know if it’s legit? Okay, I was getting carried away here.

  Maggie was breathless when she came in. “We went around the block twice and ran a lot of the way. We’re both tired, and we need water.” They were indeed both panting, and I got a fresh bowl of water for Gus and a glass of ice water for Maggie.