twenty-six
Amanda brought Anya home, and I hoped we could talk, but my sister needed to hurry back to my mother’s side. My daughter didn’t have much to say about her day either.
“Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m willing to listen. In fact, I want to talk to you about what’s been happening.”
“Not in the mood.” Anya picked up her backpack and headed for her room.
Digging around in my change jar, I found exactly enough money to pay for a Domino’s Pizza. I ordered Anya’s favorite, thin crust sausage and pepperoni. We ate while watching The Mentalist. Although the food seemed to do Anya good, she still seemed preoccupied.
Thelma called at quarter to eight. “Mr. Schnabel is a godsend, Kiki. You worked a miracle.”
No, but Laurel did. I’d have to thank her.
“He’s out? Everything’s okay?” I got up and took the call into the kitchen. I hadn’t told Anya about what was happening with Detweiler. Over the course of the evening, my energy had leaked out the way air escapes from a helium balloon. I couldn’t handle whatever emotions were bound to come with this worrisome news. Anya had never run into Brenda, but she’d heard plenty about Det-weiler’s wife’s drug use and bad behavior. I was being a big chicken not to tell my daughter all the ugly details, but from the depths of my memory came a line from H. Rider Haggard’s Cleopatra, “Peace, Slave! Leave matters of the world to rulers of the world.” Of course, Anya wasn’t a slave and I wasn’t a ruler, but the accusations against Detweiler would be hard for her to handle. She didn’t need to bother with them. Not yet.
“There will be a bond hearing tomorrow. Milton and his wife, Carla, will be in the court to give their statements. Then we’ll see if Chad can be released.”
“But his safety! They can’t put him in with criminals!”
“They’ll put Chad in solitary confinement, away from the general population. We got them to agree to that at least.”
“Oh, Thelma. You must be so upset. How’s Louis taking all this?”
“Hard. The sun rises and sets on Chad. On all our children. Louis can’t imagine how Chad’s spent casings could have been found at the scene.”
The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Someone could have planted them there.”
“Who picks up spent casings?” Thelma wondered.
“Believe it or not, there was this couple that went to Atlantic City on a killing spree. They murdered another couple. But they were caught because she—the female killer—kept evidence of their crime to scrapbook! The news reports hinted she picked up empty bullet casings.”
A long silence. “You have to be kidding me. I’m glad I stick to my knitting.”
“People think that all scrapbookers are nice people, and typically we are, but hey, we’re a broad cross-section of the population. Most of us are nice, but a few … not so much. I mean, it happens, right? Are they checking the casings for DNA?”
“I guess they’re checking them for all sorts of stuff. But the evidence found at the scene had to be sent to a lab outside of Chicago where there’s a backlog.”
“So Schnabel is being helpful?”
“Oh, my, yes. He knows his stuff, Kiki. Started on the phone making calls with investigators, questioned the lab results regarding the ballistics, questioned the chain of evidence, waded right in. I don’t know how on God’s green earth you convinced him to come to our aid—and pro bono at that!—but what a relief. That silly public defender they assigned Chad couldn’t help a cat sneak out of a pillowcase.”
She paused and asked, “How are you doing, hon? You okay? Everything all right?”
What a trooper she was. I assured her that I was fine.
“Keep your fingers crossed. Say prayers for us.”
She promised to text-message me as soon as the bail hearing was over. I told her to give Chad my love and hung up.
“Are you as tired as I am?” I asked Anya as she sat on the sofa staring at the TV. Her colt-like legs were tucked under her and both cats, Seymour, and Martin snuggled in her lap.
“Yes.” Her eyelids looked as if they were ready to pull down the shades and call it a day.
She got ready for bed, and I went into her room to tell her goodnight. Seymour curled his gray-striped body next to her head. Martin, the yellow tom, nestled in the crook of her legs.
After turning off the light, I hesitated. A powerful impulse drew me closer to my little girl. Gently, I sank down onto her bed. “You sure you’re all right? You’ve been awfully quiet, Anya-Banana.”
“Just thinking.”
“About what? Did you have a rough day at school? Worried about exams?”
“Not really.”
I waited. As I did, my eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room. The silhouette of her dresser and her desk became visible. At last she said, “Mom, why would someone hurt themselves?”
So she was thinking about Brenda and her drug use.
“They don’t see it as hurting themselves. They are running away from pain.”
“By causing themselves pain? How does that work?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not entirely sure of the mechanism, but people choose activities that distract them from their real problems.”
“But it makes new ones!”
“Absolutely. So when a person keeps buying stuff he can’t afford, for that moment when he’s contemplating the purchase and handing over the money, he’s not thinking about his troubles. When the bills come, wham! Then he’s in distress again. So he goes out and buys something hoping to feel better. It’s a cycle.”
She didn’t say anything. Her breathing had become slow and regular. I tucked her in and crept out of the room.
twenty-seven
Friday morning, Day 4—after the shooting
I woke up with the dawn, after a night of bad dreams where Bill Ballard’s head exploded again and again, leaving me covered in sweat. My teeth ached from clenching my jaw. Overnight the bruise on my temple had turned shades of blue, black, and green, a great look for a Mardi Gras party. Otherwise, not so much.
After letting Gracie out and fixing myself a cup of instant coffee with those nifty flavored Folgers crystals, I called the hospital, thinking I’d check on Sheila. To my surprise, the switchboard put me right through to my mother-in-law.
“Hello?” Her voice was raspy.
“Sheila, it’s me, Kiki! I’m so glad to talk to you! You must be feeling better.” My fingers clutched the warm coffee cup as I buried my toes in the fur on Gracie’s back.
A pause. “Don’t be silly. I’m fine.”
Yes, she was! Crabby as ever! Back to her old self. Relief washed over me.
“When are you coming home?”
“That stupid doctor hasn’t told me. Says he needs to see how I’m doing. What nonsense! I’ll be much, much better if they let me out of this place. Why on earth they didn’t take me to Barnes-Jewish? I mean, really. What were they thinking? Out here in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by cornfields. None of my friends can drop by and bring me matzo ball soup! Poor Robbie has to drive miles to see me! My granddaughter can’t pop in. And the sheets are horrible! Like sandpaper on my skin!”
I pinched myself so I wouldn’t start laughing. “I could drive over with Anya.”
“Don’t be stupid. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel. Robbie told me about that bullet you took to the head. Good thing you have a head like a brick. Came in handy, didn’t it? That crazy woman. No wonder Chad Detweiler wants to be rid of her. Whatever possessed him to marry her in the first place? Don’t you just wonder? Speaking of Detective Detweiler, what’s this about you being pregnant?”
Oh, boy. I took a long swallow of the coffee and sat up straighter in my chair. The day of reckoning had arrived, and sooner than I expected. “I meant to tell you. I wanted to get past
the three months. You know how that goes.”
Another silence. I braced myself. I could imagine her scalding me with her tongue. And she could do it, I knew she could! My mind returned to the first time Sheila and I met. I’ve been in blizzards that were more enjoyable. I still recall the frosty stare she gave me when her son introduced me and explained I was carrying his child. After one drunken night of passion, George Lowenstein had felt obliged to marry me—and told his parents his plans. But Sheila Lowenstein felt no obligation to accept me. None at all. It had taken her years, the death of her child, and a lot of water over the dam before she decided I was a worthwhile human being. Now I could feel the tension crackle along the miles between us. Would our relationship go back the way it was? Would she think poorly of me?
“I can’t imagine you not using protection. I can only assume this was an accident.”
“Detweiler called it equipment failure.”
She laughed, a hearty belly laugh. “That’s a good one! That’s how I’ll explain it when all my friends want to know the gory details.”
I silently ran through an exhaustive list of curses. Sheila could be a notorious gossip, and I wasn’t thrilled about being on the receiving end of her tongue-wagging. Especially since most of it would be shared with CALA alumni. “Sheila, I certainly didn’t mean for it to happen. I wasn’t being careless. It’s embarrassing and—”
“What difference does it make? We’ll deal with it. It’ll be okay. Does Anya know?”
“Yes, and she’s thrilled.”
“That’s all that matters. Might be good for her to have a sibling. I always regretted that George was an only child.”
“I … I appreciate your understanding.”
“I didn’t say that I understood. I said that we’ll get through this. You are planning to marry him. Before the baby is born. Right?”
“Uh, no.” And I explained what I intended to promise Anya.
“Whew.” She blew out a sigh. “You’re caught between a rock and a hard place, aren’t you? Well, you’ll marry him eventually, right?”
“I hope to.” Obviously, she hadn’t heard he was charged with murder. I decided to let sleeping Dobermans lie. This didn’t seem the time or place to spring bad news on my mother-in-law.
“How’re you doing?”
“Okay. Better now that I hear your voice. It’s good to … to know you’re all right. Really all right.”
I allowed myself the luxury of one drippy tear and blotted it with a paper napkin.
“Thanks to you.” Her voice sounded curt, but I knew her well enough to know that was her way of hiding emotion.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Sheila. I couldn’t! You know that.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t come to my aid. After all, you had Anya to consider. When I saw you climb out of that car, I couldn’t decide whether you were brave or just plain stupid. I still can’t decide.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything but get better and come home.”
twenty-eight
Amanda called and offered to come by and pick me up, but I was sure I could drive safely. If I had a problem, Anya could help me. She had actually done a bit of practice driving in a parking lot with Robbie Holmes. “Good for her to know the basics,” he’d said, and he’d been right.
“If you’re sure,” Amanda pressed the point.
“I’m sure. How’s Mom?” I asked.
“Ornery. Any idea when Sheila is coming home?”
“I hope she’ll be released in the next day or so. Even when she’s home, she’s going to need help around the house. With a broken collarbone, she’s supposed to stay immobile. Her maid only works six hours a day. Robbie has an erratic schedule.”
“Are you suggesting that Mom and I might be able to stay here awhile?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up. Sheila will need the help, but Mom can be such a pain in the butt that your staying might not work.”
I could imagine my sister nodding on the other end of the line. “I understand. I guess I’ll take it one day at a time. The agent lined up four houses for me to tour. None of the ones I’ve seen so far would work. Either too big, or too expensive.”
That gave me a thought. “Clancy’s mother is in an assisted living facility. Her house is vacant. How about if I give you Clancy’s number? She might be willing to rent it rather than let it sit vacant. As I recall, her mother didn’t trust her with power of attorney, so she actually can’t sell it without her mother’s permission.”
“Let me guess. Her mother still thinks she’ll be moving back in any day.”
I sighed. “You’ve got it. Mrs. Clancy and Mom are mixed message martial arts experts. I love you, I hate you, I want to live in my house, I want you to move in with me, ya-da, ya-da.”
“Will she be moving back? I don’t want to get settled and get kicked out in short order.”
“Mrs. Clancy will move back in when Ponce de Leon finds the Fountain of Youth and sells her a jug of the water. She has severe osteoporosis, heart problems, dementia, and vertigo caused by high blood pressure. Other than that, she’s as spry as an eighty year old, and meaner than a junkyard dog with a sore tail.”
“Sounds like you think a lot of this woman?”
“If the cops gave me back my gun, I’d shoot her and get a medal for it.”
“Speaking of which, have you seen today’s paper? That’s why I thought you were calling. To tell me to hide it from Mom.”
My stomach lurched, and I reached for a kitchen chair. “No. What did it say?”
“That your boyfriend off-ed his wife in cold blood. That he drove her to drugs by cheating on her with you.”
“WHAT!”
“That despite desperate pleas from his father-in-law, Detective Chad Detweiler refused to encourage Brenda to get help. Says here, ‘Detective Detweiler preyed on his wife’s weaknesses and used her as bait to entrap drug pushers, for the sole purpose of furthering his career.’”
“Who said that? T-t-that’s ridiculous!”
“Her father. There’s a huge photo of him crying on the front page. The headline reads, ‘Loss of a Daughter Causes Candidate to Suspend Campaign.’ Kiki, I thought you’d heard this on the news. They led off with it at ten last night.”
I groaned. “I don’t watch the local news at home. Dodie used to keep the TV on in her office. She was always informed and told me what was happening. Last night, I turned the ringer off on my cell phone so Anya and I could get a good night’s sleep. She was in a bad mood, and I was tired.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Not entirely. Police Chief Holmes spoke up in your behalf. He says you had agreed to help them apprehend a dangerous killer. That you agreed to get in the car with Brenda Detweiler to save the life of your mother-in-law, and that it was a courageous and selfless act.”
“What did he say about Detweiler? Surely he stood up for Chad!”
“He refused to comment. He said that Detective Detweiler is temporarily relieved of his duties pending an investigation by the Illinois State Police.” She paused. “But later in the article, it quotes anonymous sources in Illinois as saying that spent casings from his service revolver were found by her body.”
A gasp escaped my lips. “How did that get out?”
“You knew this? I have to say that it sure looks bad for the hunkster.”
“I knew it, but I don’t believe it. Chad Detweiler would never shoot Brenda, ever!”
A creaking sound caused me to turn in my seat.
Anya stood two feet behind me, listening to my conversation.
twenty-nine
“Why didn’t you tell me? Huh? When was I going to find out? At school? When the other kids teased me? They’re already saying I’m the daughter
of Annie Oakley. They want to know if I carry a gun, too!”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s not fair. To you or to me.”
“Tell me about it! Every day the kids in my algebra class tease me! Mr. Phillips doesn’t say a word. He thinks it’s funny. He smirks while they do it! And now this. Well, I’ve had enough, Mom! It’s not fair for you to keep secrets from me! What if Detweiler really is a killer, huh? What if he got sick of her and shot her?” Anya’s hands curled into angry fists as she clutched them at her side. Gracie came over and sat down beside her, whimpering and turning big brown eyes on my daughter.
“I never meant to keep it a secret. I tried to talk to you last night—”
“Baloney! You should have told me it was important. You should have said it couldn’t wait.”
“I thought it could. I was told that Brenda’s parents hadn’t been notified, so the press didn’t know her identity.”
“That’s a bunch of garbage, and you know it! What difference does that make? Whether they knew or not, they were bound to find out! That’s why you were sneaking around, taking your phone in the other room, and talking to Mimi Detweiler, isn’t it? You were trying to keep it from me. You think I’m just a stupid kid! You didn’t even tell me the truth about the baby! It’s going to be a Detweiler, isn’t it? Huh? Nicci and Stevie said it will be. They’re betting you and Detweiler will get married so it won’t be illegitimate, and that means it’s going to be a Detweiler and I’ll be the only Lowenstein left on the face of this earth!” With that, she broke into a howl, a yodel of pain, and leaned against the door frame to cry her eyes out.
Nothing I could say would help. She was too overwrought to hear me. The clock showed I needed to be dressing for work, but that didn’t matter. Anya did. The trauma of my shooting, the absence of her grandmother, the appearance of my mother, all of it factored into my daughter’s emotional upheaval.
“Come on, honey.” I led her to the sofa. The keening noises from her throat had to hurt, but I realized it was good for her to let it all out. Slumping next to me, Anya cried and cried, while Gracie stuck her nose under her arm, trying in her own doggy way to comfort her mistress. Seymour crept out of Anya’s room and raced across the carpet, hopping nimbly onto the sofa. He patted Anya’s head with one paw.
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