Unwilling Accomplice - Barbara Seranella

by Barbara Seranella

  Benny had gone completely gray and now used a cane. He limped over to their table with a big smile on his face. Munch rose to greet him with a hug. There had never been a sexual side to their relationship. Benny went for big-titted, tall blondes with red fingernails that went on for miles. His affection for Munch had always been fraternal. Her very own Uncle Bad.

  "Don’t order the crab cakes," he warned in his gravelly voice.

  "I never do," Munch said. "I like to know what I’m getting."

  "That’s my girl."

  He held out his palm to Asia and she slapped him five. He rewarded her by seemingly pulling a fifty-cent piece out from behind her ear. He always knew the way to a little girl’s heart.

  "Who’s this?" he asked, smiling at Jill.

  "My cousin," Asia said. "You might want to check her ear, too."

  Benny laughed and pulled the fifty-cent trick again. Jill had it in her pocket before her hair had a chance to settle.

  "What do you say?" Munch prompted.

  "Thank you," the girls chorused.

  "You guys go ahead and order. Get me a turkey sandwich. I want to show Benny the limo."

  Benny flipped his bar towel over his shoulder and followed Munch outside. He spread his arms to encompass it all—the sleek silver Caddy limo with the boomerang antennae, the parking lot full of Mercedes, red Porsches, and Rolls-Royces, the yachts dipping on their moorings. He laughed and said,

  "Look at us now."

  Munch unlocked the driver’s door and grabbed the photos she’d stashed in the visor. They were the pictures of Meg Sullivan’s stolen jewelry. She looked more closely at them as she passed them to Benny. The first showed three rings with stones. Going by their colors, the stones were probably ruby, emerald, and sapphire respectively. The next photo was of a cameo brooch. The cameo had a peach background and a raised scene of a bare-shouldered lady draped in an old-fashioned lacy gown sitting on a bench next to a lamb. She had a gentle smile on her face and was pouring fluid from a goblet into a fountain.

  "Bucolic," Munch said, handing it over.

  This brought a strange grunt from Benny as he reached for the third picture, showing a heart-shaped locket that seemed to be made of gold and inlaid with tiny diamonds. As he sifted through the stack, his face gave little away.

  "You doing a little early Christmas shopping?" he asked.

  "The lady who lost these is offering a reward."

  "Sentimental value?"

  Munch shrugged. "So she said."

  "Wasn’t she insured? You know she was. She go to the trouble of photographing the stuff, she probably wants to double-dip." He shook his head in seeming disgust. "The world is full

  of crooks."

  "I’m looking for just one of them. Guy named Mouseman."

  Benny thrust the pictures back to her. "Can’t help you, doll."

  "Let me give you the whole story"

  "You never get the full story" he said, looking wistfully back at the door to the restaurant. "Remember I said that. People only tell you the parts they want you to know."

  "My niece has disappeared. Jill’s older sister. She was tied up in some burglary ring led by this Mouseman dude. I don’t care about anything except getting her back safe. Two kids are already dead." She told him about Steve Koon and Painter Dave. He looked pained, even as he shook his head. She gave him all her numbers. "These kids never had a chance. Anything you can tell me, anyplace you can lead me, would be appreciated. I believe this jewelry was snatched by Mouseman’s crew. I’m hoping it can lead me back to him."

  "The cameo," he said, tapping the photographs. "It looks old. I know a guy who’s into that kind of thing, a collector, like. It’s a long shot and I'm not promising anything, but I'll drop a dime, see what I come up with."

  "That’s all I ask. I won’t make any trouble for anybody. I just want Charlotte home safe."

  When they got back inside the restaurant, Asia was telling the waitress she wanted french fries and a chocolate shake. Munch cleared her throat.

  "Just kidding," Asia said, making a little laugh to prove it.

  "Spaghetti, please."

  "And milk," Munch added. "Jill?"

  "Can I have a hamburger?"

  "Sure, you want cheese on it?"

  "Yes, please. Thank you."

  Munch reached over to pat her hand. Jill quickly balled her fist, but not before Munch caught a glimpse of silver on the little girl’s finger. When that hand reappeared to lift her sandwich, whatever had glinted earlier was no longer there. Munch shrugged it off. Growing up with Lisa, living in the witness protection program, the girl was bound to pick up some sneaky ways. Heck, most kids had a sneaky side. Even Asia. Jill ate everything on her plate; Munch wondered where she put it all. Munch saved a quarter of her own turkey sandwich as a treat for Jasper, an apology for being gone so long. She laughed at herself. She couldn’t get just any dog. No, she had to find one with abandonment issues. She couldn’t fall in love with some regular guy. No, he had to have crazy exes or some other kink.

  "That’s what I like about you," her old boss Happy Jack once said. "Nothing’s ever simple, there’s always all these—whatchacallit?—extenuating circumstances."

  Wasn’t that the truth. She didn’t think she went looking for trouble. Complications had a way of falling in her lap.

  Chapter 15

  When they got home, Jasper virtually cried with happiness. He grabbed at their hands with his teeth, not so hard as to bite them, more as if he wanted to hurry them inside to show them what he’d been up to. The chair Munch had wedged against her closet door was on its side. The closet door was missing a few stripes of paint and hanging open. Jasper waved his tail with pride at the pile of shoes by the front window.

  Munch smiled as she scratched his ears and then picked up the footwear. "You think you done good, huh?" She opened a can of dog food and mixed it with the turkey from her sandwich. Jasper would only eat if she stayed with him in the kitchen.

  Munch sent Jill to do her homework and asked Asia to come help her in the front yard. The roses were in full bloom, but thirsty. Jasper came out to keep them company as they watered, weeded, and checked for bugs. Daylight saving time would be coming soon. Fall back. The time change meant that it would be dark when they got home after work. What annoyed her was that the change took place just in time for trick-or-treating. Couldn’t the powers-that-be wait until November so working mothers wouldn’t have to scramble home ahead of traffic?

  "Have you decided what you want to be for Halloween?" Munch asked.

  "Either Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, or Michael Jackson."

  Close call, Munch thought, but you needed cleavage to pull off a convincing Elvira. "You’ve got the moonwalk down. What else do you need?"

  "The glove, for sure."

  "With sequins? We can do that." Munch moved the hose to another rosebush—a two-tone beauty called Peace. The petals were a buttery yellow in the center and edged in pink. They were her favorites. Jasper chomped on blades of grass as they worked. "You know when you went to that petting zoo?"

  Asia suddenly busied herself studying the large red blossom of a Mr. Lincoln. "Yeah," she barely mumbled.

  "Did something bad happen? Somebody hurt your feelings or something?"

  Asia exhaled. "Well, there was this man."

  Munch felt a cold, deadly chill. "What man?"

  "He was like following me around. He started out nice. He had a daughter."

  "Was she with him?"

  "No, he just told me her name was Taffy like the candy."

  1

  Munch tried to keep her voice very calm. She wanted to crush something. "Did he touch you?"

  "On the arm." Asia looked scared and stared at her arm as if expecting to see worms emerge.

  "Nowhere else?"

  "No, he wanted me to ride on a horse with him."

  Munch knew her heart had stopped beating. The world surrounding her and Asia felt preternaturally still and unim
portant. "Where were the other grown-ups?"

  Asia’s eyes filled with tears. "I was by myself."

  The berm beneath Munch flooded over. She flung the hose to another plant, not caring when a branch snapped. Jasper’s body went into a hunter's pose: head up, tail pointed straight back.

  "What did you do when the man asked you to get on the horse?"

  Asia’s voice was unnaturally high and the tears were flowing freely.

  "I ran away."

  Munch scooped her in her arms and held her. "You did right. You did exactly right. I’m so proud of you."

  "But, I"—the words came out as hiccups—"shouldn’t . . .have . . . wandered . . . off."

  "Honey baby, don’t cry. Shhh." Munch buried her face in Asia’s hair. Her arms encircled the little girl. She willed her anger away, lest Asia think that the emotion was directed at her.

  "Come on. lt’s okay now. Next time you’ll stay with the group. You’re a good kid. tYou’re the best. You did the exact right thing. You trusted your instincts. A stranger is a stranger, no matter what he says or looks like. If you don’t know him or her, he or she shouldn’t ask you to go someplace with them."

  Jasper nosed his way into their circle, offering whimpers of concern. They both laughed and petted him.

  "Is that what happened to Charlotte?" Asia asked. "Did some bad person take her away? Is she dead? Will she go to heaven anyway?"

  "Whoa, let’s not bury her yet. I think she’s okay but she needs us to find her. And of course she’s going to heaven when she dies. We all are." Munch watched a stream of water snake toward the sidewalk. "Well, probably not bad men who scare little girls." She stopped at that. She didn’t want to fuel Asia’s imagination with any specifics.

  "I’m sorry Mommy."

  "You don’t have anything to be sorry about. Just tell me next time if something happens that makes you feel weird. I think we should tell the police about this guy."

  "He didn’t really do anything. It was just a feeling I had."

  "That's enough for me." Munch lifted Asia’s chin and looked into her clear brown eyes.

  "Maybe this guy was okay but in case he isn’t, we should go on record with this. Maybe the next little kid won’t be as smart as you."

  Asia nodded, seeming to think that this was a likely probability. "Are you going to call Rico?"

  "Him or Mace. Maybe both. They’ll want you to describe the man. Can you do that?"

  "He had hair on the back of his fingers."

  Munch turned off the hose. The roses could wait. She had a lynching posse to assemble. And the neck wasn’t what she wanted to hang this creep by.

  "Let’s go see Mace right now," she said. "Go tell Jill we’re all going to visit your godparents."

  When they got to the St. Johns’, Caroline answered the door. "I’d hug you, but l’m running at a hundred and twenty degrees today. " She fanned her face.

  "You catching a bug?" Munch asked.

  "It’s either that or some kind of early hot flash. My doctor’s been adjusting my hormones. Either way this weather isn’t helping."

  "Drink lots of fluids."

  "I have been. Just to replace what I’m losing. Look at this, I’ve drenched my blouse."

  She had indeed. Her throat was damp and red. "Trippy," Munch said. "Hormones, huh? I’ve never been on the pill. I haven't needed it."

  "You’re lucky."

  Munch shrugged. That was a matter of perspective. "Where’s Mace?"

  "Training. He should be home soon. Cops have to keep taking continuing education courses."

  "That’s comforting."

  Caroline seemed to consider that for a moment. "Yes, it is."

  St. John arrived home within ten minutes. "Hi, honey how are you feeling?" he said, seeing only Caroline as he came through the door. He was carrying a grocery store bouquet, a mixed bunch of daisies and carnations. Some of the carnations were an impossible shade of blue, and two of the daisy blossoms dangled from wilted stalks. The leaves toward the bottom were mushy, having been too long in water. Munch felt an envy so palatable she had to push it away with her hands.

  St. John noticed Munch, started to smile, then asked the question with his eyes: Whats up?

  Caroline took the flowers and kissed her husband on his cheek.

  "Not too close," he said. "I don’t want to catch anything."

  Caroline pushed a hand against his chest. "A little late for that." They exchanged sly smiles and then she opened a cabinet and retrieved a vase.

  "And I brought you this." He extracted a Japanese-style accordion fan from his suit pocket.

  "What a guy" Caroline said, putting it to use immediately. Munch watched the exchange. She realized she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. VVhat had she just been thinking about perfect soul mates? Maybe there was some middle ground after all.

  St. John turned to Munch. "Is something wrong?" He loosened his tie. "Is it your niece?"

  "Something else. Can we talk?"

  "Sure. You mind if I get comfortable first?" He already had his jacket off. His badge holder was flipped open, showing off his shield. He hooked a thumb under his shoulder holster, pulling the leather strap away from his shoulder.

  Munch held up her hands in mock surrender. "No problem."

  He touched her arm. "I’ll just be a minute." When he came back out of the bedroom, he was barefoot and wearing black fleece sweatpants and a red sweatshirt. His day’s white shirt and black socks were balled in his hands. Munch wondered if he was still armed.

  "You got a load of laundry going?" he called to Caroline.

  "Done. It needs to go in the dryer."

  St. Iohn motioned for Munch to follow him to the laundry room. He lifted the washer lid.

  "Wow, look at this, all whites." He said it as if he were discovering an unforeseen harmonic convergence.

  "Ace detective," Caroline said, coming up behind him and taking over the task of transferring the load. She also relieved him of the clothes he carried.

  "They never do get the separating-the-colors thing, do they?" Munch asked out of the corner of her mouth. Caroline looked at the two kids. "Maybe in the next generation."

  Mace slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and kissed her cheek. "What about their generation?"

  "They’ll be seeing lots of changes." Caroline addressed the kids, "You guys want some cookies?"

  "Okay" Asia said.

  "We’ll have to make them."

  Munch gave her a grateful smile and followed St. John to his backyard. Jasper had found one of Nicky’s old tennis balls and was wagging his stubby tail. Munch told Mace what Asia had

  said.

  "Son of a bitch/’ St. John said.

  "Yeah," Munch said. "It’s always something, isn’t it?"

  "Did you tell the school?"

  "I will tomorrow. I just found out about an hour ago."

  "I’ll make a report. We’ll send a sex crimes unit to the petting zoo when they open. Can Asia describe the guy?"

  "Probably just generalities. He was a grown-up. She remembers what he was wearing, what the backs of his fingers looked like. It’s already been almost a week. Didn’t you tell me that a witness’s reliability was all but useless after forty-eight hours?"

  "Sometimes less than that." Samantha walked over to Mace and he ruffled the dog’s ears, let her lick his face. Brownie barked. St. John laughed. "Jealous little bitch."

  "Anyhow," Munch said.

  "Yeah, what about Charlotte? Did she come home yet? Have you heard from her?"

  "No. I’ve got a bad feeling. Her mom is in jail. Rico busted her for warrants. He thinks she knows more than she’s saying. I’m sure he’s right—not that that’s putting us any closer to getting Charlotte back. He says he’s working on it, but it doesn’t look good."

  "It’s a big city. All he can do is go after the leads he has. That starts with the family."

  She told him about the phone call she had intercepted at Lisa�
��s house, the insulin that had gone missing from Lisa’s refrigerator, and Painter Dave’s fate. "Rico told me the Feds don’t think it’s kidnapping."

  "Why?"

  Reluctantly, she also told him about the hair they had found at the storage unit. Evidence that was later negated by the signs of Charlotte’s strange hair-pulling compulsions. St. John shook his head and threw the ball for Jasper again.

  "Chacon’s right. I hate to say it. You need to keep leaning on the mother. "

  "He’s working the burglary angle. All the victims used the same pet food delivery service. It’s since gone out of business, but there might be some kind of paper trail." Brownie brought Munch a knotted rope and let her know that she wanted to play tug-of-war. It was a game Munch understood well.

  St. John watched for a minute. "What did Rico think about the guy at the petting zoo?"

  "I didn’t tell him yet. He’s already not helping me enough."

  St. John seemed to like that, if she was reading his smug smile right. "You know one thing you have to feel good about."

  "What’s that?"

  "Asia passed the test. God knows sometimes horrible things happen to kids. There are a few monsters out there, and no amount of preventive training protects us from them. We’re not helpless, though. I always say there are lots of things a good parent can do to protect their children. The foremost thing is communication."

  "I try."

  "You do more than that. You always know where Asia is, what she’s doing, who her friends are. She knows she can confide in you."

  "I hope so." Munch was trying to act modest. The truth was he couldn’t compliment her more highly. If he didn’t shut up soon, she was going to cry.

  "You done good," he added.

  She laughed.

  "What?"

  "I knew there was a reason I came here. An hour ago I was as angry as I’ve ever been. Now you’ve made me feel really good. l’m getting dizzy."

  "You’ll survive."

  They went back into the house. The first batch of Toll House cookies was already in the oven. Munch glanced at her watch.