by Mike Faricy
“God, I’d like to sue that organization.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly how they settle their ‘issues,’ Louie.”
“Well, yeah, but Jesus.”
I set the binoculars down and turned back to face Louie. “You know, there might be a silver lining here, an opportunity.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m not sure yet, I just have a feeling.” I said then turned round and scanned the third floor again. I thought the refrigerator door might look like it was open when suddenly a girl stood up from behind the kitchen counter. She had a towel wrapped around her head and was wearing a smile. My luck was definitely changing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
My positive vibe was relatively short lived. I was in the den at Casey’s sipping a cranberry juice because I’d run out of beer and the liquor stores were closed. I’d called Heidi to see if she wanted to come over and misbehave, but she was getting ready for a hot date. I was watching the Twins slowly being beaten to death, one long inning at a time. There had been a light rain falling, unfortunately not heavy enough to call the game. My phone rang. I could only hope it was Heidi calling to tell me her hot date had turned out to be gay.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Dev?” Casey’s voice cried from the other end of the phone.
“Casey? What’s wrong?”
“Someone ran into my car and they’re towing it away. It’s all smashed up and wrecked.”
“Are you okay?”
“I think so, but my car, what am I going to do?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at University and Western, in front of some big old empty building.”
I knew exactly where she was, it was an old bakery building from the 1930’s. There was a Green Line stop there, our attempt at light rail. Not the best corner for a woman to be on foot after dark unless she was working the street.
“I’m going to come and get you, I’m about ten minutes away.”
“God, Dev, what else can go wrong? My life is just shit,” she sobbed.
“You just hang on, Casey. I’m coming.”
I dashed out the door, climbed in my car and took off. I probably made it in six minutes, only because the cops didn’t nail me for speeding. I saw her standing on the corner looking very distraught. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was obviously crying. The car ahead of me slowed down like they were going to stop then sped up once they got a closer look at her. I pulled to the curb and got out.
She saw it was me, but remained where she was and started shaking her head from side to side. First her shoulders started shuddering and then her entire body followed suit. I hurried over to her.
“Dev,” was all she said and then she just broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. All I could do was wrap my arms around her and hold her as she released a flood of emotion. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, Dermot, their house, what she knew as her life, this was where she finally cracked, on the corner of University and Western, late at night with the light rail clanging its bell as it passed through the intersection and I was the guy holding her in the rain. Life ain’t fair.
After a bit she regained control and pushed herself back. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Look at me, I’m just a mess. God, how can you stand me? How can anyone?”
“You’re okay, Casey, that’s the important thing. You’re not hurt, are you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay, well except that I’m royally fucked. God,” she said then looked to be on the verge of breaking down again. I wrapped my arms around her and said, “You’re what’s important, you can always get another car.” Some jerk driving past leaned on his horn and let it blare for another half-a-block.
“Come on let’s get you in my car before all these guys driving by start hitting on you.”
“You kidding, I look like shit,” she said and sniffled.
“I think you’re beautiful,” I said.
“That just proves you’re not in your right mind.”
I held the door open for her and she slid into the passenger seat.
“Buckle up now, you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
“You think it would make any difference at this point?” she said then pulled the seat belt across her. I ignored her comment and waited until I heard the buckle click then closed her door and hurried over to the driver’s side. I started the car then pushed the button to lock our doors.
“Where to, Madam?”
“Can you take me to Tommy’s, Dev? Jesus, I must really look like shit. Sorry for that back there, I just sort of snapped.”
“I think under the circumstances you may be entitled. Hey, if you open that glove compartment I think there’s some Kleenex in there.”
She opened the glove compartment and the box of Kleenex sort of slid halfway out. Two wrapped condoms lay next to it.
“Oh, back to dating high school girls are we?”
“Oh, sorry about that,” I said.
She just shook her head and smiled.
I drove around the block and headed back in the general direction of Casey’s house although I didn’t think that would be a very good idea. “You want me to take you to Tommy’s?”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what else I can do. I just can’t think right now. That guy had to have seen me, and he just plowed into me, didn’t even slow down. What a complete and utter…”
“Don’t worry about any of that right now. We’ll get it sorted out, let the police deal with it. Where does Tommy live?”
“Hunh? Oh yeah, I guess that would help, wouldn’t it?” she said then gave me his address.
We pulled up in front of her brother’s house fifteen minutes later. It was a nice looking Cape Cod-style two-story house with a brick front and a trimmed hedge running across the front. An attached two-stall garage was on the right hand side. There was a light post halfway up the curved front sidewalk with the light on and a plaque with the address numbers. Other than an outside light over the front door the rest of the house was dark.
“God, I hate when they go out and don’t leave any lights on. They went to a concert or something tonight.”
I nodded then got out and walked her to the door.
“I guess I can make it from here,” she said reaching a tentative arm inside and flicking on the light. There were actually three light switches and she turned on all three. One went on just inside the front door, another lit up an area at the base of the staircase running up to the second floor and the third light was inside the front hall closet. Casey didn’t look all that thrilled.
“How ‘bout if I walk through the place just to make sure you’re okay?”
“Oh God, would you mind?”
“Not a problem, I’d be happy to, in fact, I insist.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“I think I can manage,” I said and stepped in past her. She followed behind me.
I turned on lights as we walked from the front entry, through the dining room and into the kitchen. At the back door I turned on the exterior lights and illuminated the well-kept back yard. “Let me check the basement, Casey. I’ll be back up in a moment.”
She nodded and looked relieved. The basement was a refinished den with a giant flat screen on the wall over a wood burning fireplace. What looked like high school graduation pictures of two girls were framed and sitting on the fireplace mantel. Off that room was a laundry area and workbench next to the furnace. I came back upstairs just as Casey was opening one of the kitchen cabinets. I noticed she’d turned on two additional lamps in the living room, the lights in a china cabinet in the dining room and the light in the small bathroom that was just off the kitchen.
“Could I talk you into a glass of wine?” she asked, there was just the hint of a plea in her voice.
“I’d like that, let me just walk through the upstairs and I’ll be right down.”
“God, I feel like such a dope making you do all thi
s, Dev.”
“Forget it, you’ve had a pretty busy night, you just take care of that wine and I’ll be right back down.”
I open and closed the doors on the second floor so it sounded like I was being thorough, but I wasn’t going to go into the bedrooms looking in closets and under the beds. I came down the stairs and walked back to the kitchen. Casey had the foil around the neck of the wine bottle partially torn off and lying on the Formica counter. She had the arms on the cork screw lifted up and was attempting to uncork the bottle, it wasn’t working.
“God I hate these things. Why don’t they just buy the damn bottles with the screw off caps? It’s so much easier.”
“Can I give you a hand?” I said and took the corkscrew from her, lowered the arms then turned the handle making the arms raise.
“Why wouldn’t it work for me?”
“You just had the arms already up and it doesn’t work that way.” The cork rose three-quarters of the way out of the bottle then I pulled it out the rest of the way. It made a satisfied popping sound. “Should we let it breathe for a moment?”
“No,” Casey said with some authority then grabbed the wine bottle from me. She filled her glass then mine, picked up the bottle along with her glass and marched into the living room.
I followed.
There were two small couches facing each other on either side of the living room, a glass topped coffee table was positioned between them. Casey set the wine bottle on the coffee table and curled up in the corner of a couch. I sat down opposite her. She took about three healthy gulps from her glass then closed her eyes and twisted her head from side to side.
“What a day, Jesus wept,” she said then drank a little more wine although this time it was more of a demure sip.
“You feel like talking about the accident?”
“What’s to tell? Some stupid idiot guy came around the corner and plowed into me.”
“You think he was drunk or asleep, any idea?”
“Not the faintest. Who the hell knows? To tell you the truth I was sort of nervous, I thought some creep was following me, but he turned off into that restaurant parking lot just as I stopped for the red light. A half minute later some car comes around the corner and plows right into me. I think I panicked or something and tried to get out of the way. I must have because my car jumped forward and then he smashed into me. The idiot hit me at about my back tire, the air bag went off and knocked me down onto the seat. He pushed my car up over the curb and into a phone pole. Then he took off, he had to be drunk or high on something. I’m sure my car’s totaled. Shit,” she said then took another healthy swallow of wine and shook her head.
“What did the cops say?”
“What could they say? They got the tow truck there, told me my car was probably totaled and that based on the damage, I was really lucky. God, if they only knew,” she said and drained her glass.
“You got any idea what the car looked like that hit you, or maybe the driver?”
Casey shook her head and reached for the bottle. “More wine?”
“No thanks, I still got this glass going.”
She refilled her glass then set the bottle back on the coffee table. “The cops asked me the same thing. To tell you the truth, it all happened so fast I have no idea. I can’t tell you if it was a man or a woman driving. I don’t know if there was anyone else in the car. It was just a pair of headlights and then boom.”
She raised her head for a moment like she was thinking then closed her eyes. “Oh God, you’ll just freak at this. I think it was a black car. God, do you believe it? What the hell is it with me and black cars?” she said then took a couple of healthy swallows.
“You mean like the car you thought was casing your house?” I laughed, but I was thinking it might not be that far fetched. Someone could have taken Fat Freddy’s car, God knew he wasn’t going to be using it for a while.
“Yeah sort of, I mean, look I honestly don’t know, everything happened so damn fast. I just don’t know what the hell I’m going to do for a car now.”
“Well, you know you’ve got Dermot’s car just sitting in the garage over at your place. It’s pretty late tonight, but I could bring you over there tomorrow and you could get it.”
“Do you think he’d mind?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that and waited for her to catch herself, but she just looked at me with questioning eyes.
“I think he’d want you to, Casey. Dermot would have been the first one to tell you to use it.”
She nodded and took another sip of wine.
I changed the subject. “How’s the work going on the house? I gotta tell you they’re in there bright and early everyday, bunch of guys working.”
“It’s coming along. I hope it’s not too messy over there for you, Dev.”
“I most likely wouldn’t notice.”
Casey nodded like that was probably an accepted fact. “You know, I’m going to hate to leave the place. I didn’t think I would ever want to go back in there, but now I don’t know. It was what we were doing, kind of our statement and I just don’t know.”
“Do you want to move back in?”
“No, I’m not ready for that, yet. Besides, like you said, the guys working and everything over there. No, I’m settled here for right now and I’m over there everyday, anyway. It’s just, God, I wish I had the money, you know.”
“Yeah, believe me I know how that works.”
A pair of headlights drove up the driveway and a moment later we heard the garage door opening.
“Oh, here’s Tommy and Carol home,” Casey said, but she made no effort to get up. A door in the kitchen opened a minute later and we could hear them coming in from the garage.
“All the lights,” a female voice said.
“We’re in the living room,” Casey called before anything else was said.
They walked into the living room and Tommy introduced me to his wife who I recognized from Dermot’s funeral, but had never officially met. Casey gave them the quick version of the accident and Carol went out to the kitchen to grab two glasses and another bottle of wine. I declined any more wine and waited a requisite ten minutes before I made my good-byes. I told Casey I’d call her in the morning before I picked her up. Thanks were exchanged all around and I beat a hasty retreat back to Casey’s house. Now it was my turn to feel nervous and I went through all the rooms, but this time I carried my .38.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Oh sorry, didn’t know anyone was in here,” a guy in white pants and a white T-shirt said. He wore a baseball cap on his head with ‘Abbott Paint’ written across the crown. He was carrying a five-gallon bucket and a couple of trowels. I heard two other guys chuckle as he stepped back into the hallway. It was almost seven-thirty in the morning.
I put the coffee on, looked at myself in the mirror and decided whatever needed to be done could wait. I started to come alive after the third cup and phoned Aaron LaZelle in homicide. I had to leave a message. I showered, had another cup of coffee, and was driving to the office when my cell rang.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Were you planning to show up with caramel rolls again?” Aaron asked.
“No, one is all you get.”
“Pity. Anyway, you called.”
“Yeah, it may be nothing, but I know how we both feel about coincidences.”
“Some woman you dated has turned up pregnant?”
“No, thank God. Casey Gallagher.”
“Yes,” Aaron drew out the word and I was willing to bet that he had just sat up straight in his office chair, maybe picked up a pen and slid a pad in front of him so he could take some notes.
“She was involved in a hit and run last night at the corner of University and Western.”
“She okay?”
“Yeah, seems to be, other than the idiot totaled her car. I picked her up and brought her to her brother’s where she’s been staying, he lives over in the Como area. Anyway, here’
s the deal, bear with me. She thought she was being followed, she would have been heading north on Western. Then, as the light on University turns red and she stops, the car behind her turns into the parking lot behind a restaurant.”
“It’s a Vietnamese restaurant, right?”
“You got it. Less than a minute later, some car comes charging around the corner and broadsides her, slams her car into a phone pole and then takes off. That parking lot, it’s L- shaped so someone could have turned in there, gone around the restaurant building, back onto University then blasted around the corner and hit her.”
“Yeah, and it also could have been some idiot who was drinking or lost control or was underage who hit her. We’ll check into it, but it could really just be unfortunate timing.”
“There might be more.”
“Such as?”
“Fat Freddy.”
“What about him?” Aaron sounded cautious.
“He was assaulted coming out of Nasty’s the other day by someone or a number of someone’s, they put him in the hospital.”
“Yeah, we’re aware of that.”
“I went to see him.”
“You did what? Didn’t we have a little chat about this sort of thing? You not screwing up an ongoing investigation, you not getting involved and making things even more difficult than they already are.”
“There’s a possibility it may have been his car that broadsided Casey last night.”
“I believe he’s still in Regions and pretty well banged up. He’ll probably be there for at least another day or maybe two.”
“Yeah, but his car isn’t. It was parked at Nasty’s, in their parking lot. I’ve a hunch if you got his license number and did a check you wouldn’t find it parked there. It’s a black Camaro, Z-18 or something. Casey made an offhanded comment that she thought it was a black car that hit her.”
“Anything else?” I could tell by his tone he was writing and not very pleased.
“Not right now. I hear anything else you’ll be the first person I call.”
“I appreciate that, Dev, and thanks for passing on this information. Oh, and now lets get back to you not getting involved, please.”
