“Sorry to hear that. She was a looker.”
“Yeah, but you were the one doing all the looking. Say, Chester, that reminds me, I could use your opinion on something.” Adam tramped back to the deck.
“What do you think of this cat door? Do you think a small person could get through it?”
Chester studied the opening, scratching his head and rocking from one foot to the other. Finally he got on his knees, putting his head through the door just as Adam had done. He even tried slipping one arm in at a time. “Maybe a little kid, like five or six. Not anyone older than that. Since we don’t have any gangs of marauding five-year-olds, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Chester struggled to his feet and hesitated, scratching his head again, a habit Adam noticed often enough to wonder if that’s what happened to all his friend’s hair.
“Listen, Adam, I’m going to say something that’s way none of my business, but have you noticed how often the women you bring home have serious problems? Either you’re fishing in the wrong stream or you’re way too picky. If you’re waiting for the perfect woman to come along, you’re shit out of luck. There’s no such thing. There’re just women whose problems you can live with and those whose problems you can’t. You could spend your whole life waiting, then look back and wonder what happened. If you like her, grab a pair of hip boots and wade in.”
Chester had a point. Adam had been warned Mai was crazy when he started up with her, but he had done it anyway. Maybe the problem was with him. However, hip boots might not be enough with Jillian. He wasn’t even sure chest-high waders would do the trick.
After Chester left, Adam went inside. The TV dinners were still sitting on the counter so he stuck them back in the freezer and started to his room to clean up. On the way, he passed the stairs to the guest bedroom and bath. He had taken several steps when he paused and turned around, heading up the stairs instead.
The guest bathroom was nearly empty. The cabinet held three sets of towels and wash cloths, an extra roll of toilet paper, and a bottle of drain cleaner, nothing else. Under the sink, he found the plunger he had lost. He pulled the drawer out and didn’t see anything, but angled his head to one side to look in the back corner.
There sat an old, dried-out tube of hemorrhoid cream with the cap missing. Shit.
He hadn’t put it there. He knew that. Could Jillian have hidden it? He poked it with one finger, but it didn’t move. It had been stuck to the drawer for some time. His parents used this bathroom when they visited. Had his father complained about hemorrhoids on his last trip? Maybe, he wasn’t sure.
He reached for the phone. His Sunday call was generally a couple of hours later, but his parents would assume he had plans for the evening.
“Hi, Mom, hi, Dad. How are y’all doing?” They talked for several minutes about his parents’ golf game and how the fish were biting.
“Hey, Dad, how’re your hemorrhoids? They still giving you trouble?”
His mother jumped in immediately. “He’ll never admit it, but they’re giving him hell. If he’d lay off the spicy food and eat a few vegetables, a little fruit, he’d be better off.”
“It’s not spicy food, it’s your mother’s cooking. Anyway, I’m doing much better. What did you do all day today?”
Adam told him about the mirror falling and the mess he had to clean up.
“Were you having some kind of a wild party? No way that wire broke unless someone was swinging on it. I weighed the mirror myself and went to the hardware store for wire that was specifically made to handle that much weight. I even hung it on two bolts so it would be secure. If that wire broke, you need to call the company that made it and complain because it was defective.”
His father paused. “Now, do you want to tell me what really happened?”
Adam decided to approach the problem the same way he did at work——he would make a list. That always made him feel in control of the situation, and since the day he first met Jillian, control was something he felt slipping through his fingers. He sat at the kitchen table with a pen and paper. Opening the fridge for a beer, he grabbed a diet soda instead. But not because of anything Jillian had said.
The beer: Jillian could have looked in the outside cans for the empties while waiting for him, but the count would have been different on Friday afternoon than it was on Saturday night.
The frozen dinners: She didn’t have a chance to look in the freezer either night, so how did she know about the Healthy Choice?
The antibiotic: She used the bathroom before she left on Friday and could have seen it then.
The hemorrhoid cream: There was no way she could have known about it unless she was in the house before he came home on Friday.
The picture of his ex-wife: Could she have looked in the drawer while his back was turned? But how did she know which drawer? Even then, she would have had to dig around under the sweaters to find it. Nope, didn’t happen.
Getting in: She could have stuck her head through the cat door and looked around, but that was all. The key was well hidden and didn’t appear to have been moved. If she had picked the lock, he couldn’t see any signs of it. Besides, the alarm was on. So maybe she was some kind of whiz at breaking and entering and knew how to cut the wires. She would still have had to reattach them without any evidence left behind. Impossible.
He was starting to get a headache, and something was nagging at the back of his mind. It was the picture. Why did he keep going back to the picture? Because he had moved it, that’s why.
When he was straightening up the house on Saturday morning, he moved the picture from his top sock drawer to his bottom sweater drawer. He wasn’t trying to hide it, but it felt as if he were moving further away from that time in his life by putting it there.
If she had broken in on Friday and found it, she would have said it was in the top drawer. She said it was in the bottom drawer, where it had only been for a few hours. And she had not had any opportunity to look in that drawer on Saturday.
He was willing to admit his own ego led him to approach Snake-Eye without a vest or back-up, but there was something else. A little voice had put the idea in his head. It kept telling him not to be a wuss. If Jillian could handle Snake-Eye, so could he.
Now his headache was worse.
A bowl of chicken noodle soup was all Jillian could face for Sunday lunch. It had been so long since she let anyone get close to her. She and Billy had been friends, but she always kept a wall around her personal life.
The time she spent with Adam was different. It felt easy, and, except for one little thing, she’d been able to be herself. Billy’s death would have devastated her without his help.
She wanted to see more of him. However, she couldn’t go on the way she had in the past. She didn’t want to keep things from someone she cared about, and she didn’t want to be with someone she didn’t care about.
When the phone rang, she hesitated. As long as he hadn’t actually called it off, there was hope.
“I was worried about you.” He started right in. Was he afraid she might hang up when she heard his voice? “I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
He hadn’t called her honey, or sweetie, and that wasn’t good, but he had called, and that was something. “I didn’t have any problems. Traffic was light, and I was home in no time. What about you, did you get that mess cleaned up?”
“It took half the day. I had to sleep in the guestroom.”
“What about Rover? That just breaks my heart.”
“He’s buried under his favorite tree. He’d been sick for a while. I knew he didn’t have long. There’s a question I need to ask you.”
“Just one?” She laughed.
“You said. . .” He paused, and Jillian knew it was hard for him to give her claims enough weight to talk about. “You said Heather’s fingerprints were all over my two cases. What did you mean?”
“She didn’t want me to get rid of the gun. She said it belonged to our father and grandfat
her and I should keep it. She argued with me all the way downtown. When we got to the station, I expected her to disappear. I never guessed she would actually go into a police station, but she did, so I should have known how serious she was.”
Jillian could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, so she knew he was listening. “When I gave it to Sergeant Marshall, she leaned over and started telling him it was a valuable piece of history and shouldn’t be destroyed. She said it probably belonged in a museum. He didn’t blink an eye. I thought he didn’t hear her, some people don’t. He just pulled out the form. I signed it, and left. It never occurred to me that he didn’t destroy it. I don’t know if she had anything to do with the rest of the stuff he stole. It might be once he had stolen something it was easy to take more.”
“I suspect he’d taken kickbacks before, but I’m not sure he’d outright stolen anything. This was just one step farther down the road. What about the other two?”
Jillian sighed. She hated this. Hated talking about it, hated admitting what her life had become, especially to someone she cared about. Hated the way people looked at her if she did tell. As long as she kept it to herself, she could pretend it wasn’t real. “I have to go by what she told me, and any story she told would be tailored to make her look good. I think she felt a connection to that gun and kept track of it. When your guy . . . Was his name Manny?”
“Yeah, Manny Dewitt.”
“When Manny went to sell the drugs to that young girl, Heather told him she was trying to cheat him. I suspect she actually was trying to cheat him and Heather wanted to warn him. I don’t know if he was high, or if the girl made a threatening move. Maybe he thought she was going to rob him. I don’t know why he shot her, but Heather put him on edge, made him nervous.” She held the phone tight against her ear. Adam’s voice brought up more emotions than she could deal with.
“What about when Manny got shot? What did she have to do with that?”
“She told his friend Manny was dangerous and would try to shoot him. That he had to protect himself. Whether she did it for fun, to cause trouble, or because she had a responsibility to warn him, I don’t know.”
They spoke for another few minutes before Adam said goodnight and they both hung up. Jillian wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he talked to her about it without suggesting she was crazy, and that was the best she could hope for.
Monday morning was better than Jillian had any right to expect. Adam had called the night before so she was optimistic. She managed a nice run and Heather hadn’t appeared, and Cara had called to say she’d be in by late afternoon.
“Are you sure you’re up to coming in? Don’t rush because you think I need help.”
“No. What I need is to work.” Cara sounded determined. “I need the money, the experience, the distraction, and at some point, I’m going to need a good reference.”
“You’ve got the reference if you never show your face in here again. Are you planning on quitting? I’d understand if you did.”
“I think it’s like riding a horse. If I don’t get back there, I might not be able to do it. I’ll stay until after Trevor’s trial. I want to be sure I testify. Then I’m going to get a divorce, change my name, and have his parental rights revoked. After that I’m going to move to another state where he won’t ever find us. I can’t live my life looking over my shoulder, and I’m not going to take a risk with Megan. But all that is likely to take a year.”
“You can count on me. I can’t wait to testify.”
When Cara finally appeared, around two o’clock, Jillian wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She pushed Megan’s stroller with one arm, but kept the other one tight against her body in a sling. Her face was swollen and discolored.
Cara must have seen the look on Jillian’s face. “I’m a good advertisement for the store. If this doesn’t convince people they need protection, I don’t know what will.”
Megan was smiling and gurgling, as if Thursday had never happened.
Adam groaned when the alarm went off. He sat on the side of the bed and raked his hand across his chin, unable to work up enough energy to face the day. He still didn’t believe Jillian. She was either one of those loopy people who thought they talked to spirits, or she was downright certifiable. Although, he would have felt better if he could work out how she did it. The fact that her story about Manny and Eddie jived was pure coincidence. She figured out what had most likely happened.
The swelling in his big toe had gone down, and he could wear regular shoes, but the cut on his other foot hurt like hell with each step. He’d gotten a small sliver of glass in one finger and it was going to remind him every time he used the computer.
He was crossing the street to his office when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tried to glance behind him. Was Mai following him again? This was getting ridiculous. Suddenly a young, black kid grabbed his arm and yanked him back, causing him to fall on his rear in the middle of Main Street. A city bus blew past, inches from his face.
“You better come back down to earth, motherfucker, or you’re gonna end up a greasy spot on the street. I wouldn’t mind, but it would tie up traffic for hours.”
When he stood, the kid saw his gun and badge and got flustered. “Sorry about that, officer.”
Adam patted him on the back. “Thanks, son, I appreciate the help.”
The rest of the day wasn’t any better. Hard Luck still had him working the computer for Nelson and Steinberg. Each time he hit an L, his finger protested. At lunch, he went to James Coney Island and spilled chili on his tie.
By late afternoon, he was ready to report to Nelson and Steinberg. They stood over his desk while he showed them what he found. “Your two brothers have been very careful. They don’t have any property in their own names, and their mother didn’t own anything but the house. However, they have an elderly aunt who owns a home in Sharpstown.”
“We didn’t find anyone with the same name.” Steinberg shook his head.
“She’s a half-sister. She never shared a name with their mother, and she was married so it’s even harder to trace. She doesn’t have any kids. Her husband was killed in the war. I don’t know which one, probably the Spanish-American. Anyway, we all know what devoted family members our boys are, so I found it odd they’re paying for Auntie to stay in a nursing home. They haven’t visited her, but they put her in there and pay the bills on time.”
Nelson blinked in astonishment. “They’re actually paying cash to keep her in a nursing home?”
“Well, it’s not much of a home. It’s been written up for multiple violations. I wouldn’t want anyone I cared about in there. She covers most of it with her Social Security, but they chip in the rest. If she was declared indigent and put on Medicaid, the government would take her house and sell it. And that’s where things get interesting.”
Adam pulled up the next screen on his computer. “I can’t find any record of the house being rented, and the boys haven’t received any payments that I can find, yet all the utilities are turned on and in use. The boys are paying the gas and electric bills regularly.”
Nelson was grinning. “Good work, Adam. This should be enough to get a warrant on the house.”
At end of shift, his rear hurt as much as his finger and toe, and his day wasn’t over. He lingered in the office until he was sure everyone was gone and the night shift had started. He drove over to the property department on Washington and parked as close as possible to the ugly blue building. Doris was right where he’d left her the week before.
“What’s with you?” she called as he came down the hall. “Your ass is dragging and you’re limping on both feet.”
“I’ve been working a desk all day and I’m numb.”
“Well, I could take care of that for you. I could rub it till it felt better.”
“Seeing you makes it feel better.”
“Pooh, what fun is that? I’m more of a hands-on type of woman. I know you didn’t come down here
for my pretty face. Did those records help?”
“They sure did, thanks. Now I need one more thing. Was an old .45 turned in anytime since Friday afternoon?”
“No weapon of any kind has crossed these doors in well over a week.”
“Are you sure? It might have been when you were off duty.”
“Honey, there’s a lot of things I don’t know, but I know what comes in and goes out of this room, on duty or off.”
“Okay, if it comes in later tonight or tomorrow, would you give me a call?” He pulled out a card with his cell phone number. If the gun didn’t show up soon, he’d have to go after Marshall. He considered telling Hard Luck, but dismissed the idea. Even with Jillian and Ruben’s help, he was in this alone.
She held the card up to the light and ran her thumb over the embossed lettering. “I suppose this number is for official use only?”
“The way I feel right now, you’d probably kill me.”
“Yeah, but what a way to go.”
After leaving the property room, Adam began to think about Mai. She’d been on his mind a lot lately. He smelled her perfume everywhere. Their problems may have started with Mai’s attitude, but what if he’d said something when her actions first began to bother him instead of waiting until he couldn’t stand it anymore and blowing up? Did he share some of the blame? He couldn’t do anything to change that now, but it was never too late to smooth things over. The box of candy he’d bought Doris gave him an idea.
He and Mai had dated for quite a while but somehow hadn’t overlapped Christmas or her birthday. In all that time, he had never bought her a real present. Sure, he’d paid for meals, concert tickets, and clubbing, but she was a woman who put a lot of store in gifts and he hadn’t given her any.
He pulled in quickly to Macy’s and went straight to the jewelry department. A diamond tennis bracelet that wasn’t too expensive caught his eye. The band was narrow and the diamonds tiny, but it had plenty of sparkle and that’s what mattered.
The Secrets on Forest Bend Page 19
