Her Something Impetuous

by Hunt Harris, Kim

  Present it to the D.A. Wouldn’t she like to be a fly on the wall when Michael got this report?

  “When or if? You don’t have to…pick one?”

  “Not right now.” He gave her a tight smile.

  “Umm…when will you have to pick?”

  He shook his head and scratched his chin. “We’ll conduct an investigation and present it to the District Attorney. He’ll review it, and decide whether or not to proceed.”

  She knew how this worked. She’d been married to the D.A. for the past eight years. But still… “Is there any chance someone else could make that decision?”

  He shook his head as if he were saying “No thanks,” to a second cup of coffee.

  “So as of right now I’m not being charged?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “What about Mr. Corcoran?”

  “He’s being questioned in another room. Your story will be compared with his, of course. We’ll be able to put together the bigger picture, and we’ll proceed from there.”

  “Oh, well, okay. Of course, he never saw that girl. So his story isn’t going to be –”

  “We’ll talk to him.” He stood.

  After a moment, so did she.

  “I don't know if Mr. Corcoran told you about this before, but this is not his first run-in with the law.”

  She got a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “No, he didn't say anything to me about that. We're not that close.” So how could she be so sure that this detective was mistaken?

  “He has a prior drug conviction.”

  “Really?” Conviction. Not arrest. Not charge. Conviction.

  “He's not the type of man you want to get mixed up with, Mrs. Way. I would chalk this up to a learning experience and go home to my family.”

  Where you belong, were the words he didn't say but Karen heard. She wanted to be righteously indignant and tell him not to throw stones. But since he could very possibly lock her up, she settled for nodding meekly and murmuring something that might sound like an apology.

  “Don't leave town until you hear from me.” He showed teeth in a smile that was probably supposed to reassure her. “And make sure the clerk at the front desk has all the numbers where you can be reached.”

  “Thank you.” Her knees shook as she stood. Was it really over? Or had it just begun? And what was going to happen to Will? If they weren’t holding her, did that mean they would hold him instead?

  She should try to find out what was happening with Will. She should tell the guy again that Will didn’t know anything about it, that it was all a big mistake. Even though she’d told the truth, she felt like she’d gotten Will into this. She should do something to help get him out.

  But like the coward she was, she kept her mouth shut and got out of there before they changed their minds and threw her in the clink.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Karen unlocked the front door and dragged herself inside. Holy crap. What an awful evening. She rubbed the back of her neck and yawned, her feet scuffing the floor as she moved toward the kitchen. She would just check the answering machine before she went to bed, in case Pam had called. In case America’s Most Wanted called, requesting her mug shot.

  There was a man in her kitchen.

  “Oh God!” Karen gasped and jumped backwards, knocking her head against the doorjamb.

  It was Will. He stood with his arms folded, leaning against the kitchen counter. He glared at her with pure hatred.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. She rubbed the back of her head with one hand and put the other to her chest, because she thought her heart might just pound through it.

  “What are you trying to do to me?”

  She shook her head. “You’re the one in my house!”

  “Did Michael put you up to this? Are you two setting me up?”

  “What? No!”

  Will lunged and grabbed her by the arms. “What the hell are you two up to? Tell me the truth, Karen. Has this been a setup from the beginning?”

  “What are you talking about? Why would I work with Michael to set you up for anything? He and I aren’t even married anymore.” She jerked away from him. “Our divorce is final in two days. You think we’re being set up?”

  “I know I am!” His voice exploded in the room. “And it’s pretty suspicious that both times you’ve been in my shop, I’ve been hauled to the police station.”

  “It isn’t my fault.”

  “Then what were you doing with a box of crack?”

  “I found it on your desk.”

  “No you didn’t.”

  “I did.” She crossed her arms over her chest and chewed her lip. “After that girl left it there.”

  “What girl?”

  “The tall blonde with the Pretty Woman dress.”

  Will shook his head and looked at her like she’d sampled the stuff in the box. “What?”

  “She wore this hooker dress and she put the box on your desk. She said you were expecting it.”

  “What was her name?”

  “How should I know? She’s your friend.” She stepped back. He was making her nervous.

  “What did she say?”

  “That she had something for you, that you were expecting it.”

  “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting a crack delivery.” He raked a hand through his hair. “What else did she say?”

  “Just to tell you hi. She called you Willie.”

  “Willie?” He frowned. “No one calls me Willie.”

  “I thought it didn’t sound like you.” When was he going to ask why she had the box? She decided a diversion was in order. “Coffee?”

  He looked at her like she’d just suggested they get naked and go out on the roof. “No, I don’t want coffee. I want to know what is going on and who is behind this.”

  “Why do you think you’re being set up?”

  “Because I’ve been arrested for something I didn’t do. Why should I believe you and Michael are really getting a divorce? Why should I believe a word you say? I saw you take a box from your purse, put it on my desk, and tell the police it was mine! Sounds like a setup to me.”

  She frowned for a second, then reached for the divorce papers tacked to the corkboard beside her refrigerator. “See, final on the twenty-third. Two days from now.” She chewed her lip and watched as he read.

  He was pale, his jaw set and his body humming with anger. He kept chewing his lower lip and shaking his head. “This doesn’t make any sense, Karen. If someone else brought the box in, why did you have it in your purse?”

  The phone rang and Karen sent up a thankful prayer for the divine intervention. It was Terri.

  “I just saw Michael on Channel Eleven and they were asking him about your arrest! They said it was today. Did you get arrested again?”

  Uh-oh, more stuff she didn't want to talk about. “I can't really talk right now. Can I call you back in an hour?”

  “I have to pick up Todd from football practice but I'll be back by then. What happened to Michael, anyway? He looks terrible.”

  “He does?” She wanted to see Michael looking terrible. She hung up and flipped on the television. “Terri said they were interviewing Michael on Channel Eleven about me being arrested.”

  The story ended just as she got the television on.

  “Try another channel,” Will said. “If one is running the story, others will too.”

  On Channel Thirteen there was a story about two pit bulls that had gotten loose and mauled someone else's dog. Then her arrest photo flashed on the screen.

  She felt her knees go weak and the next thing she knew she was sitting on the ottoman, counting the spots in front of her eyes. At least she'd been wearing her Victorious Woman Color and Cover kit, she thought numbly. She didn't look terribly victorious, though. She looked exactly like she’d felt…as if she were about to throw up.

  She blinked when she heard Michael's voice. “What the hell happened to him?” He had a big purple knot on his fo
rehead and his nose was swollen and scraped raw, as was his lower lip.

  “Hopefully someone caught him in a back alley,” Will muttered. “Are you going to pass out?”

  “I don't think so, as long as I don't stand up.”

  He put a warm hand on her shoulder. “Then stay down there.”

  “I don't know the full story of what happened today regarding my ex-wife,” Michael was saying, his face the picture of thoughtful concern. “But I will say that I have great faith in our local courts, and in our justice system in general. Whatever the truth is, we'll find it, and we'll deal with it when that time comes.” He nodded for emphasis.

  “What a putz,” Will said. “Of course you have faith in the local courts. You own them.”

  “Is it just me, or did he sound like he's already decided I'm guilty? 'We'll deal with it when the time comes.' That sounds like he thinks there will be something to deal with.”

  “Of course that's what he meant. He's setting the stage.” Will shook his head and groaned. “I knew it was a mistake coming back here, with him being the D.A. I hoped he'd changed, but obviously he's just gotten bigger and better.”

  Something on the screen caught Karen's eye, but she turned her attention to Will. “What are you talking about?”

  “He's done this before. Not on this scale, but the same damned thing. When we were in college, we both applied for an internship at Senator Haney’s office. We were the main candidates for it. It was a very prestigious position to have.”

  “Oh, I know. He talked about Haney like he was one step below God, and he was always going on about the connections he made while he was in Washington. He actually had tears in his eyes when he spoke at Haney’s funeral last month. He didn’t cry at his own grandmother’s funeral.” She bit her lip. “I already know how the internship thing turned out.”

  “Yeah, but you don't know how he got it. He set me up. He had some girl plant pot in my gym bag, and I was arrested on my way to a racquetball game.”

  “Oh my God. Michael wouldn't do that. Would he?”

  “He did. Luckily I got by with probation because it was a small amount. But I was out of the running for the internship. I was not the kind of person they wanted representing Roosevelt College in Washington. And it blew my chance at law school.”

  “That's disgusting. I am so sorry.”

  Will shrugged. “It's water under the bridge now, and it's not as if my life turned out so badly.”

  What a trooper, Karen thought. Michael was the District Attorney, a well-respected member of the community. And Will had inherited a tattoo parlor. But still he was grateful for what he had. She admired him for that. “He couldn’t really be behind this, though. Could he?”

  “He was behind the raid the other night.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I confronted him.”

  “When? What did he say?”

  Will stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. “I ran into him at the courthouse yesterday. I…mentioned what had happened. He warned me Piedmont was his town and I'd better leave if I knew what was good for me.”

  “That does sound like a threat.”

  “Sweetheart, the man you married isn't such a nice guy.”

  “I know that. Still…” It was hard to believe he'd actually frame someone for a felony. “I'm going to make coffee.” Even if he didn’t want any, she did. She had to think, and what with the man she'd recently almost had a torrid with pacing around her living room and the looming specter of jail time, she found concentration hard to come by. She punched off the TV and went into the kitchen, dumping the wet grounds and filter from that morning.

  She thought of all the times Michael had said or done things she'd been uncomfortable with. Under the table deals, good ol' boy agreements with prominent members of the community. That niggled at the back of her mind now. She knew Michael was a pompous jerk. But could he be corrupt, too?

  Would he really frame someone like Will, over an old grudge? And let his ex-wife – the mother of his children – go down with him?

  “Why does he want you to leave town?” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “Who knows?” Will was right behind her, and she jumped. He put a hand on her back to steady her.

  “Sorry. You said he warned you to get out of town. Why?”

  He looked out the window over the kitchen sink and shrugged. “Maybe he's still threatened by me and thinks I'll tell what he did about the internship.”

  “But you couldn't prove anything, could you?”

  “Honestly, I wouldn’t try. But he doesn't know that. In his mind, I'm obviously a threat of some kind. Why go through all this if I'm not?”

  She ran water into the carafe and clicked her tongue. “I don't know.” It was possible that Will was paranoid. Or trying to cover up the fact that the drugs were his, that the hooker girl was telling the truth. And she had a lying crackhead in her kitchen. There was that possibility.

  “The girl who brought the box in, what did she look like?”

  “Tall and skinny, long legs, bleach blonde hair. Dressed like a hooker.”

  “Then she probably was a hooker. I’m sure Michael is very familiar with those.”

  “Only in a professional sense.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You know what I mean. His profession.”

  He cocked his head and gave her a beatific – and completely false – smile. “Isn’t naiveté so much fun?”

  “Let’s just steer this conversation away from my ex-husband’s possible association with criminals who carry diseases. You believe me about the girl?”

  “Probable association. And I haven’t decided if I believe you or not. Did anyone else see her?”

  “I don’t think so. She was in and out pretty fast.”

  “Tell me how the box got from my desk to your purse. And back again.”

  Karen blew out a gust of air and brought two coffee mugs down from the cabinet. “I suppose I might as well. She came in right after you left to take your phone call. She said she had something for you, and that you were expecting it. Then she left. And I was…curious.” Not jealous. “So I picked it up to look at it. And then you walked in, and I jumped because it really wasn’t any of my business, and I didn’t want you to see me being a snoop. I accidentally dropped it in my bag, and…well, you know the rest.” She frowned and tilted the pot to pour the coffee. “I should have given it to you right then, and told you all about her. But I felt foolish. And so now we’re in a big mess.”

  “Did you tell the police about her?”

  “Of course.” Karen jerked the pot back up. “Hey, was that her?”

  “Who?”

  Karen ran into the living room and punched the television back on. “There was a girl getting out of a car behind Michael, when the reporters were there. It just now registered. I think it was her.” Channel Eleven was onto sports. She flipped to Thirteen, and they were, too. Thirty-Four was already showing a Seinfeld rerun.

  “Are you sure it was her?”

  “Not entirely. I just saw her out of the corner of my eye. I was so busy looking at that egg on Michael's head.” She gritted her teeth. “Man! I wish I'd been paying more attention.”

  “Rewind it.”

  She rewound, but Channel Thirty-Four didn’t have the same angle – they saw Michael and his short interview, but in the background were only cars. She flipped back to Channel Eleven.

  “Damn! When I changed the channel I lost it. It won’t rewind on that station.”

  “What was she doing?”

  “Getting out of a car.”

  “Was it Michael's car?”

  “No, he drives an SUV. This was some fancy sports car.”

  “Kind of a coincidence they were there at the same time.”

  “It didn't look like they were there together. Just at the same place at the same time.”

  “Still, it's a coincidence.”

  “You seem he
llbent on thinking Michael is behind everything.”

  “You'll have to pardon me for being a trifle paranoid where he's concerned.”

  “And you'll have to forgive me for trying to be open minded. Michael is a complete asshole, but there’s a lot of room between asshole and criminal. I can't believe that the man I slept next to for nineteen years could be a criminal and I wouldn't see it.”

  He was silent for a second while he studied her. “We need to see that girl again. If she's the one who left the box, she's the key to everything.” He punched the “if” and narrowed his eyes. “We have to find out if someone paid her to leave that box.”

  “Do you think she’d talk to us?”

  He shrugged. “If she’s for sale to one person, she’s for sale to all. We just have to be the highest bidder.”

  “I can call Terri and see if by some wild chance she recorded the news. Or we can call the television station.”

  He looked at his watch. “Or we can wait two hours and watch it ourselves. Channel Eleven reruns the broadcast at midnight.”

  “We'll do that. If it really was her, we can go to the station and look at the unedited tape. A friend of mine's daughter is an intern there this semester. I’ll bet she’d help us out. She owes me a favor.”

  “We need to work fast before Michael decides to charge us.”

  “He’ll review it, and decide whether or not to proceed,” the detective had said. Karen’s mind insisted on replaying a reel of all the times in the last few months she’d enjoyed irritating Michael, if the girls weren’t around. Smarting off. Hanging up on him. Making tacky remarks to and about his girlfriend. “I really kind of wish my fate was in someone else’s hands. Anyone else’s.”

  “You and me both.”

  She looked around the room and then uneasily back at him. “So, you'll just wait here until the midnight newscast and watch it with me?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I think that would be a good idea.”

  He really didn’t believe her about the girl, Karen realized. He thought she had set him up.

  She had to find that girl. Because right now she was beginning to doubt the whole story herself. It sounded entirely implausible.