Hidden Hearts

by Ann Roberts

  “She’s got some really good insulation and the aluminum helps.”

  They found her in a raised bandstand that served as the checkout and customer service area. A collage of old concert tickets from venues all across the country sat beneath the Plexiglas countertop. A few patrons waited for Lynette to scan their purchases with a hand-held computer that CC guessed was connected to the nearby MacBook with its giant monitor. The advanced technology struck her as odd since the store sold outdated LPs. She’d expected an old-fashioned register and a Cash Only sign.

  Lynette’s outfit was as eclectic as the shop. She wore a short leather skirt, a Rush concert T-shirt and Mickey Mouse ears. When the last customer took his receipt, she disappeared into a back room and returned with her purse, cradling a hairy black dog. She seemed distraught as she stroked his head. “Charlie’s not doing so good. I promise I’ll be right back. I just need to drop him off with Dr. Casey.” She turned to Siobhan. “Can you mind the store since you know what to do?”

  She sighed. “Of course.” She turned to CC and murmured, “My advice is hang on to the grab bar above the door.”

  “I love you,” Lynette said breathily.

  Siobhan raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

  She blew her a kiss and looked at CC expectantly. “Can you come with me and hold him on your lap?”

  She nodded and followed her out to the tiny Smartcar.

  “Do all of your dogs fit in here?”

  “Not all at once. Usually I only bring three or four with me to work so we’re nice and cozy.”

  She had never ridden in a Smartcar and was surprised that she didn’t feel claustrophobic, not even with Charlie Parker on her lap.

  “How was your night with Penn?” Lynette asked as she whipped around a corner.

  She immediately clenched the grab bar. “Uh, fine.”

  Lynette scowled. “Damn it. Fine means that she didn’t make a move on you doesn’t it?”

  “I was under the influence of medication and alcohol.”

  “Hmph. Well, that might be a good excuse, but I still think it’s an excuse.” She glanced at CC who hoped her face wasn’t crimson. “She likes you. I can tell.”

  “What’s her story?” CC asked, hoping Lynette would shed more light on Penn’s obvious gun-shy ways.

  “Well, I know there was a really bad breakup. Her ex was a former client who she’d met while she worked in this big law firm in California. The woman was accused of embezzling money from her dot-com company. Penn was the only one who believed her and fought to take the case. So she gets her off, they move in together, and then she rips off Penn for everything she’s got, dumps her for someone else and runs off to live in the Caymans on Penn’s money and the money she really had stolen!”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. Penn was crushed. She swore off women.”

  “So you’ve never seen her with a girlfriend?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe you could change that.”

  She shifted slightly in the tiny seat. When she looked out the window and stared at the sidewalk next to her, she felt as though she were on a kiddie ride at a fair and the little car was tied to a track.

  “New topic. You pick.”

  “I like your store. Do you get a lot of business?”

  “You’d be surprised. A lot of people still like records. They’re happy iPods came along, but they like the sound of the old records, too. It’s that unwillingness to give up some of the best things from the past, like cover art. Album covers are so cool, and there just isn’t the same level of attention paid to a CD cover. It’s a quarter of the size and people don’t even buy CDs anymore. They just want the hit songs. Back in the sixties and seventies album art was almost as important to sales as the artist himself. Tons of money went into deciding what graced the cover.”

  She gripped the grab bar tighter. Lynette was barely paying attention to the road and constantly jamming on her brakes just seconds before the Smartcar careened into someone’s bumper.

  “What do you think of the enclave?” Lynette asked.

  “It seems like a wonderful place to live.”

  “It is. We’re a family.”

  She whipped back and forth between two lanes, moving ahead of people until she had to stop at a red light.

  “How long have you lived there?”

  “Hmm. I guess Viv took me in about two years ago.”

  She chuckled. “You mean like you take in the dogs?”

  “Yeah, that’s about right. She chose all of us.”

  The little car whirred as it picked up speed again, and CC imagined twenty rubber bands turning frantically under the hood.

  “How does one get chosen to be a tenant at the enclave?”

  “Oh, we’re not tenants. We don’t pay any rent.”

  “You don’t? You live there for free?”

  “Uh-huh. Viv is the coolest. She doesn’t need the money, so she’s never charged us.”

  “That’s incredibly generous of her, but why would she do that? Your rents could pay for her property taxes or upgrades on the house—”

  “I know,” she said. “We’ve tried to tell her that, but she won’t take our cash. I guess it’s been like that for a few decades. She just started taking in women who needed a place to live. Some stayed for a few months and some for several years. In fact Viv’s partner was one of the first members of the enclave.”

  “Partner? What happened with her?”

  Lynette’s beaming smile broke. “She passed away five years ago from cancer. I never met her, but I heard she was amazing.” She whipped between two lanes and said, “So, women come and go, and we just pay for the utilities and do a lot of the maintenance too. Penn’s pretty handy, in case you’re wondering,” she added with a wink.

  CC knew she was blushing. Every time someone mentioned Penn’s name it affected her physically and chemically. She needed to stay focused. Lynette was sharing information that might be important to the case with Seth Rubenstein.

  “How do you get chosen?”

  “That was the weirdest part,” she said with a little laugh. “She just showed up at the store one day with Penn and introduced herself. Then they asked if I wanted to live somewhere for free. At first I thought they were nuts or part of some sick sex cult, but then I went and saw the enclave and the cottage. I fell in love with the place. And when I met everyone else I realized I’d just won a really cool lottery.”

  “So did you ever find out why you were picked?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I asked once, and Penn told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Just be grateful. And I am.”

  “Viv said that there were originally cabins there instead of cottages, but they burned down. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Seriously?” she asked, surprised. “I had no idea.”

  She managed to stop the car before it careened through the vet’s front window. “Be right back,” she said, grabbing Charlie Parker and bolting out of the car and toward the entrance.

  She wasn’t surprised that Lynette didn’t know about the cabins. Siobhan had looked equally surprised and when CC had pressed Viv for more details, she refused to talk about it further, shooing them off the sun porch so she could get back to work.

  She scrolled through her e-mail, feeling slightly guilty about missing work. Blanca had rescheduled three appointments for her and met a new client in her place. She wondered if she’d jeopardized her job by playing hooky and then zeroed in on the last paragraph of Blanca’s e-mail.

  Alicia had dropped by to deliver something to CC and gone to lunch with Blanca instead. Now Blanca wanted to know what she thought of Alicia as an attorney. She grew uneasy. Was Blanca considering hiring her?

  She closed her e-mail without responding as Lynette jumped back in the car and zipped out of the parking lot.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Lynette said worriedly.

  “Absolutely,” she agreed. “He seems to be a g
reat dog.”

  She had no idea what to say. She’d never had a dog because of her father’s allergies. At least that had always been the story. She suspected her mother didn’t want to clean up the mess or deal with the hair. And rodents were absolutely forbidden just on principle. For years she’d begged for a pet, and when her mother finally acquiesced and took her to the shelter to get a cat for her tenth birthday, he ran away to live at the neighbor’s house.

  Lynette peeled around a corner so fast that CC was certain two of the wheels left the street. She felt her whole body shift toward the door as she tightened her grip on the grab bar. Suddenly Lynette hit the brakes and pulled into a small parking lot in front of a mini-mall.

  “Damn it!” she hissed.

  “Why are we stopping?” she asked, but Lynette was already out of the car and headed to the entrance of a decrepit dollar store. CC got out and went with her. Attached to a pole was a panting and drooling German shepherd. CC could tell he was suffering from the June heat.

  “People are absolute idiots. For every one good person there are at least eight imbeciles. I’ll take dogs any day.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Make a point.”

  She headed inside and asked for the manager. A pudgy, balding Hispanic man appeared. She tore into him, pointing to the dog outside and demanding he do something about it. When he answered her in Spanish, she easily switched languages and the man glowered. He held up his hands in defeat, and she went to the container aisle and retrieved a large plastic bowl which she filled up in the restroom.

  They returned to the dog, who lapped up most of the water and wagged his tail gratefully. She flung open the passenger’s door and withdrew two pamphlets written in English and Spanish. She handed one to CC and placed the other inside the dog’s worn collar.

  On one side were six black-and-white photos, all graphic depictions of dogs that had been victims of animal cruelty. The other side read, You are not a friend to your pet! Be responsible! Animal cruelty carries severe fines and jail time. The WATCH is watching you! She realized The WATCH stood for Women Against The Canine Haters.

  They piled back into the car and, although she didn’t think it could be possible, Lynette’s driving worsened. She muttered under her breath about the stupidity of humankind while she yanked the little steering wheel left and right, veering in and out of traffic until they finally returned to the record store. All the while CC had closed her eyes and tried not to get sick.

  Lynette marched in and threw her bag on the counter. Siobhan said blandly, “I take it you found another one?”

  “Why in the summer?” she shouted, gaining the attention of the store’s customers. “I’d love to take every single one of those assholes and put them in a fur coat, stand them on the asphalt at one in the afternoon without any shoes and leave them there for two hours. That should be their punishment!”

  Everyone applauded, and as regulars, CC guessed they were familiar with her rants. Siobhan kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye.

  “She’s really something,” CC said as they got into the truck.

  Siobhan threw a glance back at the store. “She is. And what did you think of her driving?”

  They both laughed and headed west on Indian School Road. Siobhan regaled her with stories of growing up in Ireland and what it was like to come to America. CC watched her as much as she listened to her, hypnotized by the delicateness of her gestures and the curve of her perfect smile. And her brogue was enchanting.

  “Are you bored?” she asked.

  She shook her head. “No, not at all. I love listening to you. Can I ask you a question? How did you wind up living in the enclave?”

  “It’s interesting you ask. I was just thinking about that this morning. About a year ago I was playing at a civil ceremony for two women who knew Penn and Viv. They invited me to dinner and came to hear me play at the symphony. We got to know each other over the next few months, and then they just asked if I wanted to move. I’d been there for a barbecue and I loved it. When I asked how much the rent was, Viv told me it was free. I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a situation,” she said. “How can Viv afford it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve heard that she’s lived there since she was a kid, and it’s the only home she’s ever known. Although it’s unusual for a writer to be so successful, she’s been very fortunate. The Chloe series is one of the most enduring and popular children’s series of all time. And, Chloe Goes to the Symphony is dedicated to me.”

  “Wow, that’s interesting,” she murmured, pretending to be surprised.

  They entered Maryvale, one of Phoenix’s most depressed communities. The post-World War Two suburb hadn’t fared as well as Viv’s beautiful little area. Gang graffiti covered multiple buildings and shuttered businesses dotted every corner. It was struggling in the economy—and losing.

  Siobhan turned into a residential neighborhood, and CC’s heart dropped at the sight of the rundown homes. Cars sat on blocks in several driveways, nearly every fifth house seemed to be in foreclosure and landscaping was a joke. She imagined the city’s blight inspectors couldn’t keep up, if any of them bothered to call.

  Amid the countless neglected homes, a beautiful, pristine stone church sat on a corner. She gazed at the tall bell tower and the vibrant stained-glass windows, imagining it was the neighborhood’s hope and the gangsters left it alone.

  They pulled into a parking space, and Siobhan turned to her, not bothering to shut off the motor. “Time to go to work,” she announced.

  “What?”

  “Go through that side door and down the hallway to the third door on the right—no, left,” she corrected.

  She looked around in bewilderment. “Why are you leaving me here?”

  “I’m not leaving you. I’m dropping you off. Penn’s expecting you.”

  “You’re not coming in?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, I’m not coming in. And I need to be perfectly clear. You don’t stand a chance with me.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Wow. That was harsh.”

  She swept her beautiful red hair to the left side. “No, I’m just being honest. I watched you all the way over here staring at me. Nuh-uh. Not going to happen.”

  She leaned toward her using all the charm she possessed. “Why not?”

  Siobhan pointed at the door and she understood.

  “I belong to Penn now? Is that what all of you have decided? What if I’m not interested in Penn?”

  “But you are,” she interrupted. “And even if you weren’t, I’m not interested in you. There’s someone else.”

  She studied her the way she studied a client. “Really?”

  “Really. Now go.”

  CC sighed and headed into the church. She hadn’t seen Penn’s Nova, which meant it was either parked somewhere safe, had already been stolen, or they were taking the bus back across the valley, an idea she couldn’t fathom.

  An elderly African-American couple shuffled past a small sandwich board sign with the words Lawyer/Abrogado and an arrow pointing to an open door. She heard commotion and saw at least forty people waiting in the small room. Since there weren’t enough chairs, many stood clutching papers and files and nearly everyone was Hispanic or Native American. At the sight of a white woman they stared suspiciously.

  An older woman with steel-gray hair came through a connecting door, Penn following behind her, speaking in Spanish. When she finished, the woman pulled her into a hug and said, “Gracias, gracias.”

  Penn finally broke free and smiled when she saw CC. Her chosen T-shirt of the day said in bright pink letters Easily Distracted by Shiny Objects.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  She pointed toward the parking lot. “Siobhan said you asked me to come.”

  She rolled her eyes “Did she? Aren’t you supposed to be slaving away on the thirtieth floor somewhere?�
�

  “I am, but she convinced me to take a day off.”

  “I see.” She paused to think and then asked, “This isn’t some attempt to pump me for information that could hurt Viv, is it?”

  “No,” she protested. “I don’t want to hurt her. I wish you’d understand that.” She looked around. “Now, do you want some help or not?”

  Penn studied her a moment longer before she said, “Come on back.”

  The room next door was much smaller and only contained two card tables and a few folding chairs. One table was empty, but the other was covered in files and notes. Judging from the list of scriptures on the chalkboard that covered the side wall she guessed the room was usually used for a Bible study class.

  “Normally a church volunteer helps me with intake, but she got called to work. Since you’re actually an attorney, we should get through everything twice as fast. Do you speak Spanish?” CC shook her head. “That’s okay. They usually bring a kid to translate. What you need to do is determine the issue, and if it’s something we can help with, then we do our best. Otherwise we might send them to another agency. We’ll do the first one together before you solo.”

  She grabbed a clipboard and called for Ms. Mendoza. A plump woman who couldn’t have been much older than CC walked in, a teenage boy behind her. She wore a skimpy tank top and cutoffs, the word Destiny tattooed over her left breast in bold black ink. Not surprisingly, she introduced herself as Destiny and pointed to her son Felipe.

  They huddled around Penn’s little card table, and Destiny withdrew some folded papers from her purse. “The school won’t take him, and I don’t think that’s right.”

  Penn perused the copies of his school records. “When were you expelled, Felipe?”

  “Over a year ago.” He rubbed his eye, and CC spotted a small teardrop tattoo on his knuckle.

  He was only twelve but had been expelled for attacking another boy with a pipe during lunch recess.

  Penn looked at Destiny. “Has he been in school since the expulsion?”

  She shook her head. “Nobody would take him. They said they didn’t have to.”

  “They’re right. That’s the law. It was your responsibility, though, to find him a school.”