The Aquittal

by Anne Laughlin

  The Grapes of Wrath was the cheery title Josie picked for them to watch. They sat close together on the sofa. The movie had captivated Josie the first time she saw it, but now it seemed interminable. She began thinking of putting her arm around Lucy but she remained paralyzed. She was worried Lucy was bored stiff. She snuck a look and saw her lounging comfortably and watching the movie with apparent interest.

  By the time Grandma Joad died, freeing up some space in that overstuffed jalopy of theirs, Josie couldn’t stand her anxiety any longer. She hit the pause button on the remote. Lucy turned to her, an expectant look on her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Josie said. “Is it all right if we stop watching the movie?”

  “Of course,” Lucy said. Josie was nonplussed by how relaxed Lucy was, how warm her eyes were, how pleasant her smile. Maybe she was on drugs? “Is there any particular reason you want to stop?” Lucy sounded a little coy.

  Josie hitched herself a little farther from Lucy. “The movie was boring me. I don’t know why I picked it.”

  “Because you’re nervous?”

  “I’m not nervous,” Josie said. “Not even a bit.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “You were ready to shoot someone today, and yet you’re nervous now.”

  “That was nothing. We’re trained to handle things like that. I don’t think I’ve been properly trained to handle this.”

  “Then maybe,” Lucy moved a little closer, “maybe you’re nervous about our first kiss.” She took Josie’s hand. “Dinner, a movie, sitting together on the sofa—it’s a classic second-date scenario. The only proper thing to do at the end of the movie is to have that first kiss.” She’d sidled up to kissing distance.

  The laugh had broken some of the tension Josie felt, but she was still fiddling with the drawstrings on her hoodie. “I believe that is much more suggestive than raw oysters,” she said.

  Lucy laughed, but then seemed to realize Josie was serious. She took her hand. “Oysters imply sex, Josie. I’m talking about a kiss.”

  Josie recalled a few dates in high school and college when a kiss at the end of the night was the extent of things. Since then, kissing and sex were inextricably bound. Why was she so nervous? She knew how to kiss. She was unlikely to mess that up. Still, she was thinking of excusing herself to get a Klonopin from the bathroom when Lucy leaned over and gently put her lips to Josie’s. They lingered there until Josie started to relax and Lucy slowly deepened the kiss.

  Josie found her arms moving around Lucy’s waist, pulling her closer. Now that the process was under way, she felt more in her element. It had been so long since she’d had sex without being drunk or manic, or, more likely, drunk and manic, it seemed far more frightening than facing down a wife-beating black belt. But nature took hold. She gently pushed Lucy down until she lay partially on top of her and started doing what she did best. It was all automatic. As soon as their tongues met and the heat moved up a notch, she put her hand up Lucy’s shirt and brushed it over her breast. She felt Lucy grab her wrist.

  “Kissing, not sex,” she breathed.

  Josie winced. This was so fucking confusing. She pushed herself upright and sat with her head in her hands.

  “Is that it?” Lucy said. “No more kissing unless there’s sex?”

  “What’s the point?” Josie said, peeking through her fingers.

  “The point? It’s called getting to know each other,” Lucy said, the frustration coming through her voice. Josie didn’t respond. “I know how you’re used to operating. But that was last year. You’re a different person now.” Lucy sat up and put her hand back on Josie’s arm, softening her words. “There are other ways to know a person beyond fifteen minutes of talk and then sex.”

  Josie looked at her. “Fifteen minutes? That’s forever.” She smiled, a little painfully, when Lucy laughed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You must think I’m a jerk.”

  “Not a jerk. But I want to know you’re spending time with me for something beyond sex.”

  “This is already a world record for me,” Josie said, wondering what “beyond sex” meant. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yes, but we’re still not having sex tonight. Though I’m looking forward to when we do.”

  Lucy started kissing her again and they practiced that for a good while before she said good night. Josie went immediately to her medicine cabinet and downed a Klonopin. Greta had prescribed them for agitation, and Josie had plenty of that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tuesday, September 10

  Josie’s interview with Gabby was at 8:00 in the morning, the end of her overnight shift. Josie had been up for a few hours already, meticulously creating a chart on poster board of all she knew about Kelly’s murder and the people closely or tangentially related to the investigation. This involved a lot of circles, squares, arrows, and small writing. When she propped it against the wall, she felt satisfied. In truth, it was no more helpful than a box of rocks.

  They met in a diner near the Rogers Park firehouse where Gabby worked. The diner was a grim-looking black and red corner restaurant whose busiest hours were between two and six in the morning. The drunks had cleared out by the time they arrived, but Josie could taste that atmosphere of desperation. Gabby, however, looked like she owned the place.

  Gabby’s attention was focused on the enormous breakfast in front of her. Josie stuck to coffee.

  “I haven’t seen you around the bar lately. Where you been?” Gabby poured more ketchup on her potatoes. And her eggs. Josie averted her eyes.

  “Think of me as the prodigal daughter of Tilly’s. I’ve come back home.”

  Gabby grunted. “Ann-Marie tells me you’re looking into Kelly Moore’s murder.”

  “I am. I’m curious whether you think they arrested the right person,” Josie asked. The server arrived and refilled Gabby’s coffee and then overfilled Josie’s, leaving a puddle of coffee on the table. There was no apology or offer to clean up the mess, so Josie reached for the napkin dispenser and mopped up the coffee herself. She felt a hot flush to her face, a sign something pissed her off.

  “What the fuck,” Josie said to no one in particular.

  Gabby laughed. “Welcome to the Big M.”

  “Right. So back to the question: Do you think Lauren Wade killed Kelly?”

  Gabby ate for a bit before answering. “I’ll put it this way. I was surprised she was acquitted.”

  “Why?”

  “Didn’t she have the classic three elements for murder—motive, means, and opportunity?”

  “That would explain why she was arrested. It doesn’t mean she did it.”

  Gabby ate and didn’t respond.

  “You realize, of course, you had the same motive as Lauren,” Josie said.

  Gabby looked at Josie with a direct gaze. “What motive would I have to kill Kelly? She was Lauren’s lover, not mine. If I was going to murder anyone it would have been Ann-Marie.”

  Josie thought that was amazingly frank. “Did you want to kill Ann-Marie?”

  “For a minute.” Gabby shrugged. “Kind of like you want to kill the asshole who cuts you off on the expressway or honks at you the second a light turns green. I was furious, but it passed and I realized killing her wasn’t what I wanted to do. I love her.”

  “But you ended the relationship. Your motive for killing Kelly could simply be she ruined what you had with Ann-Marie.”

  Gabby laughed again and finished her meal, while Josie stared at her and wondered what kind of brain was working in there. She laughed a lot for someone being accused of murder. She looked up at Josie and said, “Isn’t this about the biggest dyke drama you’ve ever heard of? I mean, it’s like dyke drama on Broadway.”

  Josie had to agree that was true. “But what about your motive? Your lover slept with someone else. You had to be furious with Kelly also.”

  “I was. I was mad at both of them. The reason I ended the relationship with Ann-Marie was sim
ply a matter of pride, and I don’t mind admitting my fucking pride gets in my way a lot. I didn’t want to lose Ann-Marie, but I couldn’t roll over on infidelity. People would think I’m the biggest wimp around. I figured I’d find out whether Ann-Marie cared for me by how she handled herself after the breakup.”

  “And?” Josie prompted.

  “It was exactly what I thought. Ann-Marie is a lot of things, but she’s fucking predictable most of the time. She tried to leave me alone for a few weeks, but then she started calling and apologizing. Then she started showing up at my house and pleading. I strung her along a bit and then took her back. I think it taught us both how much we belonged together.”

  Josie sipped her coffee, trying to find words that wouldn’t offend Gabby. “I’m glad it worked out for you, Gabby. But I have to say I still don’t quite see you two together. I mean, Ann-Marie is an art professor and you’re, well, a bit earthier than she is.”

  “There’ve been stranger matches. I think Ann-Marie has a thing for an old-fashioned butch who wants to take care of her. Call it her sexual preference.”

  “But Kelly was anything but an old-fashioned butch, and I don’t think she’d really take care of anyone. Why would Ann-Marie cheat with her?” Josie asked.

  “Kelly was pretty girly, that’s for sure. But she also was a woman who was used to getting what she wanted. She probably turned her ‘I’ll die if I don’t have you’ eyes on Ann-Marie, and I could see Ann-Marie getting pulled into that. I imagine that’s how Kelly got Lauren. I didn’t know Lauren before the book club, but she seemed pretty unapproachable to me. That would have been a challenge Kelly couldn’t resist. Plus, Lauren has gobs of money,” Gabby said.

  “And that was Kelly’s sexual preference?”

  “I’d say it was one of them.”

  The server tossed a check onto the table and Josie grabbed for it. “I can expense it,” she said. “But I do have one more question for you.”

  “Shoot,” Gabby said. She had that supremely confident look on her face again.

  “Where were you the evening Kelly was killed?”

  Gabby shrugged. “I have no idea. I may have been working.”

  “I find it hard to believe you wouldn’t remember exactly where you were that night. It’s not an event that people are likely to forget about.”

  “If you mean I didn’t give it much notice, that’s true. I know where I was when Ann-Marie told me she’d been sleeping with Kelly, but really that’s the only thing that affected me.”

  “Can you check back on your schedule and see if you were working?”

  Gabby brought her phone out and scrolled and tapped a bit until she got to the previous February. “What night was the murder?”

  “February fifteenth.”

  “There isn’t anything on that date.” She looked up at Josie. “Does that make me suspect number fucking one?”

  Josie slid out of the booth, trying to skirt the sticky parts. “Let’s say you now have motive and opportunity.” She threw some bills on the table. “Thanks for the chat, Gabby.”

  She felt Gabby’s eyes on her as she walked out the door of the Big M. If nothing else, she now had another solid suspect in the case, though Tim felt more likely than Gabby. She couldn’t wait to add it all to her board.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lauren saw Ann-Marie standing in front of the Whole Foods on Huron, laden with bags and trying to hail a cab. She should’ve zoomed by in her Lexus; it made no sense to offer a ride to her lover’s lover. But she wasn’t feeling confrontational toward Ann-Marie. It was more like curiosity. She pulled over and got out of her car, leaning against the hood as she caught Ann-Marie’s attention. Ann-Marie seemed startled.

  “Can I give you a lift home?” Lauren asked.

  Ann-Marie looked like Lauren had asked if she’d like to take a shuttle to Mars. “I don’t understand.”

  Lauren smiled. “Well, you’ve got a bunch of groceries and no car, and I have a car and plenty of time to drive you to your place. It’s not so hard to understand.”

  Ann-Marie looked to the street with some faint desperation in her eyes, as if hoping her golden carriage, or at least a Yellow Cab, would materialize before her. Neither did. She turned resignedly to Lauren. “If you’re sure…”

  “Absolutely. Let’s get those bags put away.” Lauren popped her trunk open and helped Ann-Marie load the heavy cloth shopping bags. “Was there a sale on rocks in there?”

  Ann-Marie smiled despite herself and put a hand on the trunk to help Lauren close it. “I make a great rock soup.”

  Lauren looked at her appreciatively and opened the passenger door for her.

  As Lauren pulled into traffic she noticed how nervous Ann-Marie seemed. “I don’t hold anything against you,” she said. “Frankly, you could be anyone. It’s Kelly’s infidelity that was the thing I needed to deal with, not who she was doing it with. God knows I wasn’t shocked.”

  Ann-Marie looked out the passenger window. “It’s a little deflating, even in these circumstances, to find out you could be anyone.”

  “Don’t take it personally,” Lauren said. “Where’s home, by the way?”

  “Andersonville. Way out of your way.”

  “Why are you at this Whole Foods if you live up there?”

  Ann-Marie looked away from the window toward Lauren. She seemed to relax with the small talk. “I had to meet with some gallery owners in the area. I made sure I kept the receipt from the store, though.”

  Lauren looked at her quizzically.

  “Not to bring this back to the uncomfortable way we met each other,” she continued, “but a PI interviewed me the other day about Kelly’s murder. She asked where I was the night it happened and I told her I was at the grocery before coming home to cook dinner. She kept harping on whether I had a receipt or not.”

  “What PI are you talking about?” Lauren asked.

  “The only PI I’ve ever met. I’m an art teacher. I don’t run into PIs very often.”

  Lauren knew Ann-Marie was more than an art teacher. She had a solid gallery reputation for her work. And she dressed the part. Long-sleeved button-down white shirt with most of the buttons undone to show the grubby T-shirt beneath. Her jeans were worn and had paint splotched on them. She wore boots.

  Ann-Marie continued. “Her name was Josie something or other. Kind of cute, obviously lesbian, but definitely all business. It seemed to me she was looking for suspects other than you for Kelly’s murder.”

  “But who would hire a PI to do such a thing?” She pulled up to a small house in the less expensive outer ring of Andersonville. Ann-Marie met Lauren at the back of the car and they both pulled out a bag.

  “I don’t have the faintest idea. It’s not information she was willing to give. But it seems someone wants your name cleared,” Ann-Marie said.

  “But I was acquitted. What’s to clear?”

  “Being acquitted and having people convinced you’re innocent are two different things, and I know there are a lot of people who still think you did it.” Ann-Marie smiled ruefully. “I’ve heard some talk in the bars, at any rate.”

  Lauren said a quiet good-bye and climbed back in her car to head downtown to her office. The PI concerned her. She didn’t want Tim to think she’d hired another investigator. Tim had noticed the first one right away, and there had been consequences for her parents and for herself. He’d given her another dreadful assignment, this one involving attending a fund-raising gala with Kelly where she was to try to pick up the celebrity guest of honor. In front of Kelly.

  She could almost hear Tim laugh in the background at the event, where he’d managed to get hired by the caterer to serve drinks. She and Kelly had arrived together, but soon Kelly was working the room. Lauren had a couple of drinks and summoned the courage to approach the celebrity and flirt with her. When she said something suggestive to her, the celebrity looked at Lauren like she was trying to sell her a moldy mattress and stalked away. Tim immediately
swooped by in his catering clothes, holding a tray of champagne. “It’s a wonder you’ve ever gotten laid. Your approach is pitiful.” He laughed. “But your assignment’s fulfilled. I release you to go deal with your very pissed-off-looking girlfriend.” He moved on through the room, looking happy. He’d been happy since the day he kidnapped their parents.

  Lauren looked across the room and saw Kelly standing in her beautiful evening gown, her slender arms folded across her chest. She was staring at Lauren, but not with her usual come-hither look. Lauren went hither nonetheless, anxious to explain herself. When Kelly was really pissed about something, there was no peace in their home for days at a time. This pissed Lauren off in turn, creating a vicious cycle that only ended when Lauren caved in and apologized for whatever transgression they both had forgotten by then. It surprised her she’d become so submissive with someone, but Kelly was very good at producing an atmosphere Lauren hated. She knew Lauren would do some groveling to dispel the tension that was unbearable to her. Kelly was good at getting what she wanted.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked as Lauren approached her. Several heads turned to stare. “Did you honestly think you were going to seduce Miss D-List celebrity?”

  “What makes you think I was trying to seduce her?”

  Kelly laughed and drained the rest of her champagne. “To someone who knows you, you couldn’t be any more obvious. You never stand that close to anyone. Not to me, and certainly not to a stranger. Whatever incredibly awkward thing you said to Tanya made her look like she’d been offered a pig foot as an appetizer. It was cringe-worthy. Why would you even try?”