Mrs Jones

by William Cain

  Chapter 23 Asheville 100 Court

  October

  It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up. Babe Ruth

  After talking with Frank, she takes a break to compose herself. She visits the ladies’ room and arranges her hair and reapplies some makeup. She really doesn’t wear much anyway. She catches herself looking back in the mirror, and she stares at herself for a while. She’s the poster girl for sadness, and she knows it. She looks like a wreck.

  She reflects solemnly, This is what love looks like. This is what it does to you. This is what it makes you do.

  She decides to stop staring and she adjusts her service weapon and shirt. She’s in uniform today. After a while longer, she leaves the room, gathers some papers from her desk, and walks down the long hall to her captain’s office.

  Knocking on the door, she hears him telling her to enter, “Captain Leary, Detective Henson.”

  “Been expecting you, Henson. Have a seat.” When he looks up at her, he naturally lets his head drop back to the papers he’s been working on and then immediately does a doubletake, and his head shoots back up, “You ok?” He sees she’s really upset. Concerned, he asks, “Can I get you a drink?”

  “I’ll take one after the job is over today, and no, I’m not ok.” The sadness dragging along in the tone of her voice is painfully clear.

  “You want to put this off until later in the week?” he asks.

  “No, Sir, let’s do it.”

  And with that, he stands up and puts his jacket on. They leave his office and take a short elevator trip to the top floor, where they exit and walk to Commissioner Bill Evans’s office. His secretary announces their arrival, and they’re then shown into an expansive room with large pictures of the commissioner with Billy Graham and another of himself with Presidents Bush, Obama, and Clinton at the Presidents Cup golf tournament in New Jersey. It’s a pretty plush office, and the man behind the desk motions Leary and Henson over to a table.

  Once there, the commissioner extends his hand, first to Addie, “Detective, wonderful seeing you again. I hear you’ve been doing great work,” then to Leary, “Captain, always an honor.”

  “Commissioner,” the two of them say, almost in unison, and they all sit down. Addie lays her paperwork on the table and, after the usual formalities discussing weather, state politics, and family, they dig in.

  “Detective Henson, you have the floor. Tell me about the Elsie Battaglia investigation,” the commissioner tells her.

  “I’ve been to Chicago and Miami to interview our main suspects. I’ve interviewed Gennarro Battaglia, too. I’ve interviewed others that needed to be ruled out. In all, over thirty people have been seen. We canvassed the area and spoke with over three dozen homeowners, and, with security logs, put together a good picture of people’s movements that day, and what Heritage Hills looked like that day.”

  “Forensics found DNA evidence in the foyer. And, a housemaid told me about a hit that was ordered, and who was ordered to carry it out.” At this, both men raise their eyebrows. “I’ve been keeping this until I can tie in the DNA, since it’s just hearsay, and the DNA tests have come in, finally.”

  “This is where I am.”

  The commissioner nods for her to go on.

  “The three main suspects are: Skip O’Hare. He does dirty work for the DiCaprio’s. His business is sex trafficking, smuggling slaves. He was nearly shut down by Battaglia, and turned into an errand boy as a result.

  Anthony Spadaro. His main business is drugs. Battaglia killed his brother, his Consigliore, when he tried to expand to New York City from Chicago.

  Joey Riggoti. He runs part of the DiCaprio Miami business dealing with gambling, extortion, prostitution, drugs. He was denied a better place in Battaglia’s empire because Battaglia was screwing Riggoti’s daughter and Riggoti stopped it.”

  “Spadaro’s the one with the housemaid who told me he ordered a hit earlier this year. She doesn’t know who the target is…or was, rather. And she didn’t know when, but she did know it was to take place last July. And the cleaner he used is a lovely woman named Helen Richter.”

  The two men are on the edge of their seats, eyes wide with expectations, patiently waiting for her to continue. Each then gesture for her to go on. They’re eating this up.

  “The DNA is a single human hair with the victim’s blood on it. This hair was carried into the room by the killer. The DNA wasn’t a conclusive match for Helen Richter, or anyone else in the database, for that matter. Forensics says it is possibly contaminated.”

  The captain chimes in, “Or it could just not be Helen Richter’s.”

  To which Addie replies, “Yes, it might not be hers. But I think it is. She was known to be in the area at that time. Just how many hitmen do we have crawling around Heritage Hills? At the same moment?”

  The commissioner takes all this in, “Next step?”

  “I asked Agent Juvieux to place Richter under surveillance. And to monitor Spadaro’s communications. He’s already been wired up for obvious reasons. When they make a mistake, then we’ve got our case.”

  The commissioner smiles broadly and the captain looks very relieved, “Nice work, Detective.” He looks over at the captain and tells him, pointing a finger Addie’s way, “I like the way she works, I like the way she reports.”

  Addie asks, “Commissioner, why the interest in this case?”

  Bill looks at the two of them, “I have to report to someone also. Our Mayor talks to her Chicago counterpart a lot about this. And that Mayor reports to Elsie Battaglia’s family. Her maiden name is Griffith, and they aren’t connected. They’re a legitimately wealthy family. Powerful. High profile. And influential.”

  “They want Elsie Battaglia’s murderer.”

  “They’re like a dog in search of a bone,” Bill continues, and, looking intently at Addie, he adds, “You…You are going to find that bone.”

  Chapter 24 Reggi

  November

  I don’t trust him, he smiles too much. William Cain

  Reggi steps from her Hyundai and approaches the doors of Biltmore Forest Country Club. She’s seventy-nine and very independent. She arrived here by way of the expressway, which is really something for an octogenarian. She drives a lot, and she drives fast. In these hills, you have to stay alert and watch the winding roads. She’s planning to live to be one hundred.

  As she steps onto the threshold, the doors swing open, and the club staff greet her. They know her well. The Biltmore Forest Country Club is exclusive, lined with rich history. Hardwoods grace its interiors, fine linens on its tables, and designer, plush seating for its members and guests. Out the rear and through the French doors, a wide veranda spills out, and the immaculately maintained golf course is found beyond it. The club has played host to visiting dignitaries, presidents, foreign powers—this is where decisions are sometimes agreed upon, influencing and making world history. The air is crisp with importance and affluence.

  Looking over the contents of the dining room, Reggi spots Edwin and Charlotte. Her tallish daughter is attractive, with dark hair and well proportioned figure, but it’s all fading quickly. She’s not aging well like her mother, and gravity is having its way. Her husband Edwin is wearing his red face as usual, with prematurely balding, silver wisps of hair sprouting from atop his round head.

  She dines with Charlotte and her family here much more often these days. She knows why, too. After striking up a relationship with Ken, Reggi became more important to Charlotte and her much older husband Edwin. Edwin sees Reggi’s boyfriend Ken as a way to recharge their struggling finances. If only he can convince her to marry the old drunk.

  Edwin’s lost a lot of money that he can’t get back. His money-making days are over. He needs cash—new, fresh cash to stay afloat and remain solvent, be a member of the Club, keep Charlotte happy. She spends too much, but he doesn’t stop her. She’s his status symbol, being younger and more beautiful than anything he’d ever obtain without the money
she thinks he still has. He put too much of his fortune into risky vehicles like wind farms and overseas pharmaceuticals, development of drugs that can make billionaires from peanuts. Unknown to him, friends and family took advantage of his taste for risk and fame. Unknown, until it was too late.

  When Reggi’s shown to Charlotte and Edwin’s table, she can see they’ve brought a couple of their wine cellar favorites, of which she hopes Edwin won’t consume all by himself. She worries about him, but she overlooks the urge to warn him against it and simply kisses Charlotte on the cheek and then does the same to Edwin, then takes the seat pulled out for her. Both of them are overly happy to see her and express a charged-up enthusiasm.

  They’re so transparent, Reggi thinks, guiltily despising her daughter Charlotte. She asks them, “Where are the girls?” referring to their two daughters. Reggi doesn’t know quite how it happened, but Madison, the older one, and Haley are decent people. This came as a surprise, since her daughter and husband are useless, two dimensional people, without a care for anyone else except themselves.

  “Madison is in Atlanta, with her boyfriend, for a few days,” Charlotte answers. “Haley really isn’t much of a Club person. Really, I don’t know what inspires her. She’s down at the Western Carolina Rescue Mission tonight. Something to do with abused women, I think, whatever,” she adds disgustedly, smiling that fake smile, emphasizing her southern accent.

  She can be so ugly, Reggi’s thinking. Why did Joe and I introduce her to Edwin? She was doing fine as a manager of a tennis shop. She was happy. She wasn’t ruined until she married Eddie. I mean…gag. This is going to be an early night. “I thought the girls would be here,” Reggi smiles back, using the same fake smile, drawling, “That’s so decent of her.”

  The Club is part of the old Vanderbilt estate, surrounded by a rolling golf course. It’s the center of old money, and Reggi sees the dining area is filled. Its inhabitants are dressed in fine, designer fashions, and at almost every table sits a trophy wife or husband, and occasionally well-behaved children. There’s probably a dance later.

  “How’s Ken, Mom?” Edwin asks.

  “How’s Ken? Ken bought a mansion in Naples. He tells me that both our names will be on the deed someday,” she tells him, giggling.

  She has the floor, their attention is rapture and quizzical, and she goes on, “Oh sorry, I meant to tell you the mansion is in Naples, Florida. Of course you wouldn’t know that…it’s a billionaire’s retreat. ha ha. We took a quick trip down to the house. We bought an Audi A8 to use when we travel there. He didn’t want to get the A8L, it was too hard to park as long as it was. Did I mention that Ken bought all the furnishings along with the artwork inside the home? Well, it’s huge, and it’s very exclusive, within a secured, gated community. It’s also near a marina, and Ken’s talking about buying a yacht and anchoring it there.”

  Edwin and Charlotte are in awe. They’re way too easy. All you have to do is dangle a dollar bill in front of their noses and they turn into lemmings, she’s thinking.

  A waiter appears, and they give their orders. Charlotte is pointedly telling him that she wants fresh fish and if it’s not to her liking, it’s going back. The waiter assures her it is market fresh, as are all their meats, poultry, and fish. After threatening to send it back one more time, the ever-patient waiter unwillingly gathers malevolent thoughts. She is probably the least liked member the Club staff knows.

  After the waiter leaves, Reggi tells them, “Ken wants to take a trip to Barbados with his son and daughter-in-law, they’re from Denver. They’re planning a trip here in two months, and he thinks using a yacht would be the most convenient and impressive way to go there. That’s what he told me when he got drunk one night in Florida and made a mess of himself.”

  “I told him he has to stop drinking and meet my family,” Reggi says in a huff.

  Charlotte looks sympathetic and reaches over to place her hand on Reggi’s arm, telling her, “You should just go to a separate room or place and simply deal with it. You don’t want to lose this guy.”

  Reggi, appearing despondent, tells them further, “He agreed to go to rehab in Florida a month ago. It’s a widely known, very expensive and discrete treatment center. Hell, he had his dinners brought in. But, he left rehab after just one week, while hiking with the rehab group, and just wandered off. He went to a local gas station and hired a taxi to take him to Naples. He cleaned up and flew back and came to my house in Heritage Hills. He surprised me! With flowers, no less! Little by little I let him back into my life.” Edwin and Charlotte nod approvingly.

  “Then, later, he had a binge episode and I called his son David in Denver to come out and escort his dad back to rehab. Oh, I don’t know,” she laments sourly.

  Edwin feels it’s his turn to chime in, “Don’t worry, Reggi. He’ll stumble a few times, but I think you’re making some real progress with him. Didn’t you always tell us that Rome wasn’t built in a day?” he says, trying to reassure her, but it’s the only lame idea he can come up with. “You’ll always have your beautiful daughter Charlotte, and, of course, me, to rely on. We’re here to help you and make sure you are safe. Marrying Ken should…no, not ‘should,’ will be the best decision you’ll ever make. I’m sure he’s harmless. And, you are having an impact on his life. Charlotte and I are certain of it. You’re building him up,” Edwin says, spawning an ugly drunken grin, adding, “and you’re building a life together with him.”

  All Reggi can think when she hears this stupid speech from her son-in-law is, What a gross little man. Still, Reggi sees they’re eating this up, so she pours it on, telling them her and Ken’s plans. “We’re planning a trip to New York when his current rehab is ‘successfully’ completed. Please don’t tell Frank, we won’t have time to visit him. He wants to see a play. He can mysteriously obtain tickets to anything. He tells me he’ll book a penthouse in the most exclusive hotel for us in Times Square,” then she adds, “there’s no end to this man’s fortune.”

  With an almost genuine look of concern, Charlotte asks, referring to Reggi’s pet terrier, “Will Ginger be taken care of? We can watch her here if you’d like.”

  “Oh yes, she’ll be fine. Ken’s driver, Dennis, will watch Ginger since he has a dog that Ginger loves to play with.”

  Then Reggi asks Charlotte, “Can you make an appointment with a realtor in Asheville to see some homes? It’s a bit distant, but if things move along with Ken, then he and I will be living together in the near future. We want to leave the Heritage Hills Club and move downtown.”

  Charlotte and Edwin practically fall out of their seats. Charlotte has the perfect agent for her and Ken. She’s a member of the club, Bunnie Newcombe. Edwin sees that things are moving along nicely and inwardly, he’s smiling a dark smile, an invisible, ugly one.

  Things are really looking up.

  Chapter 25 Frank

  November

  If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best. Marilyn Monroe

  Addie holds up her cell and sees the text. It’s from Frank. She misses him. She knows she’s falling in love with this quirky guy. He’s all she thinks about. Joey Riggoti’s in the rearview mirror.

  Frank’s wearing her down, and she knows it. He’s been texting her for weeks. She doesn’t reply to this, or his emails, or his voicemails. She wants to feel she made the right decision. But, as each day and week passes, she’s not sure.

  She knows he’ll become dejected soon and just stop. That’s when he’ll be angry. That’s when she’ll have crossed the line.

  She looks at the text again.

  ft: adelaide, if you won’t reply then i’m gonna do it.

  After a few minutes she sees this,

  ft: i promise, i’ll do it.

  A few more minutes go by and she sees,

  ft: that does it… i’m going to hold my breath until i turn blue… it’s your fault

  A few more minutes,

  ft: goodbye cruel w
orld

  A few more,

  ft: i’m going smurf blue

  Ten minutes later,

  ft: c’mon adelaide, you know you want to

  Addie is tempted, ’He thinks he’s being cute, and he is.’

  Frank is quiet now. He signed off.

  Addie lowers her head and stares into her hands. Why is she doing this, pushing him away? She wants to believe in herself, that it’s the right move, to put things on hold, to be sure. But this guy is not giving in. At times, she has real chest pain from her heartache and it’s really beginning to wear on her. Addie knows something special is happening, and she wants it, wants him, and she can’t help thinking, cursing herself, Addie, what are you doing?

  Frank signs off, puts his phone down, and declares, out loud, “I’m not giving up.” He’s determined to be relentless. Addie’s going to have to get a court order to stop him. And he knows it, feels it, she wants him. He has this one singular thought that crosses his mind daily, What is happening to me? Frank finds no answer, but he knows something is growing to bear on him. He’s letting it take over. And he likes it.

  They’re just two silly people trying to figure things out. Two people separated by miles and miles. Separated by needs and desires, and fears. Afraid of the future, afraid to be hurt. Needing and wanting each other, to make each other happy, to make themselves happy.

  Why does love have to be so hard?

  Chapter 26 Addie

  November

  Live your life, do your work, then take your hat. Henry David Thoreau

  Addie returns to Chicago on a morning flight. Stepping out from the airport, she has her overnight bag in one hand and her rental keys in the other. The first blast of cold air meets her as the doors open and she realizes she is way underdressed. She needs a bubble suit. The wind is fierce, and she can’t help feeling sorry for anyone who lives here.