“Oh, water … and sometimes he would throw a rotten tomato or banana. One time he threw a bunch of pieces of stale bread on some kids smoking in the parking lot and they were swarmed by seagulls.”
I chewed on my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Jay Truman sounded like quite a guy. Sure, he was clearly a nasty guy, but that seagull trick sounded like all kinds of fun. “Well, I guess that’s fairly terrible.”
Shirley gave me an appraising look. “Go ahead and laugh if you want.”
“What makes you think I want to laugh?”
“Everyone laughs at that story.”
“That’s because it’s funny.” I gave her a chuckle, talked to her a few more minutes, and then headed toward Kendra Walsh when I caught sight of her on the other side of the American Red Cross station. She brightened considerably when she saw me approaching.
“Hey. I was wondering if I would see you again.”
For a brief moment I considered the possibility that she’d confused me with someone else. Almost no one – and that includes Eliot – was ever that excited to see me. “Oh, well … here I am.” I pasted a smile on my face even though I worried the conversation was about to go sideways. “How are you doing?”
“Okay.” Kendra spared a glance for Serafina, who was shyly hiding behind her mother’s leg as she stared at me. Kids didn’t like me, which I encouraged. This one was quiet but looked like a handful, so I was happy to keep her at bay. “We got to stay in a hotel last night and got some sleep, although now we have a lot to deal with thanks to all this.” She gestured toward the building. “It’s such a mess.”
“Yeah, I don’t envy what’s in front of you,” I offered. “Still, the Red Cross should be able to help, and hopefully it won’t take you too long to find another apartment.”
“I already have a line on one thanks to my sister. The building is nicer, and it’s not too far away.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. I have an interview with them this afternoon. Keep your fingers crossed that things work out.”
“I’ll definitely do that.” I looked around. “Did you know the guy who died?”
“Jay?” Kendra made a face. “I know it’s wrong to speak ill of the dead, but … he was not a nice man.”
“Yes, I heard about the bread thing with the seagulls.”
“Oh, that was funny,” Kendra countered. “The tomatoes, bananas and urine weren’t so funny.”
I stilled. “He threw urine off the balcony?”
“Yeah. He’d stand up there, right out in the open, and pee in a bottle. Then he’d wait for someone to come outside so he could throw it at them. He was horrible.”
Okay, he was definitely less funny now. The bread antics deserved a chuckle. If I ever got pegged with someone else’s urine while walking across a parking lot I would start throwing punches and kicks no matter how old the person doing the urine tossing was. “Well, I guess you’re not sad he’s dead then, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I don’t think anyone should die under circumstances like these.”
“I was joking.”
“I didn’t know him that well,” Kendra added. “I saw him in the lobby every once in a while – and everyone knew to steer clear of his part of the lot – but I can’t ever remember exchanging more than a couple of words with him.”
That was a bummer. It didn’t appear Kendra would be able to give me any more information on our dead guy. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m glad you’ve got the apartment thing worked out. That must be a huge load off.”
“It’s not completely done yet, but should be this afternoon.” Kendra’s expression brightened at the mere thought. “There’s an actual play area at the new complex for kids.”
“That sounds like it’s a step up.”
“I have to find a way to afford new furniture.”
“Yeah, well, nothing in life is perfect.”
Kendra let loose a low chuckle as she grabbed Serafina’s hand and squeezed. “We should probably be going, but I wanted to ask … did you find the man who carried Serafina out of the building?”
Until she asked the question I’d almost completely forgotten about the mysterious man who disappeared right after playing hero. “No. You haven’t seen him since?”
“I haven’t. I thought that’s why you wanted to talk to me.”
“I didn’t see him after the fact either,” I mused, rubbing the back of my neck. “I kind of forgot about him when I heard about Jay’s death.”
“I guess that makes sense. Jay is the bigger story, right?”
“Yeah. Still, I wouldn’t mind tracking him down for an interview. I wonder why he doesn’t want to be recognized for what he did.”
“Maybe he’s shy.”
Stranger things had happened. I didn’t understand why anyone was shy, but I was raised by a bunch of loudmouths who couldn’t stop themselves from sharing opinions … even if nobody wanted to hear them. “I guess that’s possible. I’ll check with the chief and see if he tracked him down. If he didn’t, well, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“It’s not the end of the world. I just wanted to thank him for saving my daughter.”
“Yeah.” I smiled at the kid as she waved at me before tugging her mother’s hand to tell her it was time to go. “I’ll let you know if I find him.”
“Please do that. It’s important to me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
7 Seven
I spent another two hours interviewing neighbors. I wasn’t technically on the job and couldn’t dangle a story in front of them (unless I totally wanted to tick off Fish, which I wasn’t ruling out), so I conversed with the neighbors in a friendly manner.
Unfortunately for myself, I didn’t find out anything interesting. It seemed Jay was definitely the complex crank, and everyone hated him. It also seemed he didn’t have any family dropping in to visit and he was well and truly alone. It almost made me sad.
Almost.
Hey, the guy peed in a bottle and threw it on people. There was only so much sympathy I could muster.
I had set the alarm on my phone to remind me when to head to the chophouse on Groesbeck. That’s where Eliot and I had agreed to meet for dinner (apparently his mother loved a good steak). I was disappointed when the alarm sounded, but quickly offered a wave to the residents I’d been conversing with before hopping in my car.
One glance in the mirror told me I looked a little rough around the edges – it was a hot day and I’d been sweating nonstop – so I pulled into a pharmacy to buy some dry shampoo, those wipes that make you smell daisy fresh even if you’ve been living in your own sweaty armpit and some fresh makeup.
I spent thirty minutes in my car, the air conditioning blasting directly at my face, and worked on my hair and face until I looked presentable. I probably should’ve headed home to change, but I didn’t build that much time into my afternoon excursion. I would remember better next time I decided to cover my tracks while working during my vacation. I was one of those people who constantly enjoyed learning, after all.
I was just about finished with my efforts when my phone dinged. It was Eliot, and he was running an hour behind schedule because his mother’s flight had been delayed.
Well, crap. I could’ve gone home and changed my clothes. It was too late to drive all the way across town. It wasn’t too late to stop at the mall right around the corner from the restaurant, though. I could buy fresh clothes at Kohl’s and no one would be the wiser about my afternoon adventure.
That sounded like a grand plan.
I parked close to mall’s endcap so I could avoid most of the crowd taking refuge from the heat inside the mall and headed toward the door that led to the mall, pulling up short when I recognized the food truck parked in the middle of the lot.
It was green – a recent development because my cousin Mario read that most people find the color green soothing – and the awning over the order window was a garish purple. I could clea
rly see Mario and my grandfather taking orders.
Three people were in line when I strolled up to the truck, but that didn’t stop me from making my presence known. “What are you guys doing here?”
Grandpa spared me a glance as he handed the first woman in line a takeout container. “We’re being entrepreneurs. What are you doing here?”
“I was out doing stuff I shouldn’t have been doing and sweated through my clothes,” I answered distractedly. “I’m supposed to meet Eliot and his mother for dinner so I thought I would cheat and buy a new pair of pants and a top so I could pretend I wasn’t doing something stupid.”
Grandpa arched an eyebrow. “Good plan.”
“I’m full of them,” I agreed, shaking my head as I peered around the food truck and into the store. “Do they know you’re out here?”
“I have an arrangement with the mall owner,” Grandpa replied, unruffled. “He lets us set up shop here and in exchange I don’t tell his wife what I caught him doing in the alley behind the restaurant six weeks ago.”
Oh, well, that was interesting. “What was he doing in the alley?”
“The same thing you and Jake used to do in the alley when you were teenagers.”
“He was smoking pot and making fun of my mom behind her back?” I feigned outrage. “That’s my thing.”
“Ha, ha.” Grandpa rolled his eyes. “I thought you were here to shop. You’re distracting me while I’m trying to work.”
“I am here to shop,” I confirmed. “But I want to talk to you about something before I go. I’m going to run inside and grab something and be right back. Work through all of your customers as quickly as you can.”
The look Grandpa shot me was withering. “That’s generally how I operate.”
“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”
I PICKED OUT THE FIRST peasant blouse that didn’t make me want to retch and a pair of cargo pants that made my butt look cute before checking out and changing in the bathroom. I shoved my sweaty clothes into the bag provided by the store, and when I returned to the food truck Grandpa was waiting for me in the shade next to the store. He had an iced tea in his hand.
“For me?” I grabbed the beverage and took a drink. “Nice.”
“I got that for myself,” Grandpa groused.
“Well, you snooze you lose.”
“I already drank from it.” Grandpa grinned as I blanched. It was a well-known fact that I hated sharing drinks with people because I desperately wanted to avoid backwash. Even Eliot couldn’t coax me into sharing a drink at the movies because it grossed me out. He found my aversion to backwash funny, pointing out we shared spit all the time when we kissed. I refused to back down, though, because I’m set in my ways. Hey, he knew what he was taking on before we enjoyed an official date.
“You can have this back.” I slapped the iced tea into Grandpa’s hand and worked overtime not to roll my eyes when he grinned.
“That’s a cute outfit,” Grandpa said, taking a moment to look me up and down. “The shirt has ruffles.”
“So?”
“So, you usually don’t wear shirts with ruffles.”
“I wear ruffles all the time.”
“Name one instance.”
“Well … .” I racked my brain and came up empty. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Sure.” Grandpa bobbed his head. “Just as soon as you tell me why you’re wearing a shirt with ruffles.”
I was at the end of my rope. “Have you ever considered that I like ruffles?”
“No. You’re a camouflage girl, not a ruffles aficionado.”
He wasn’t wrong. I blew out a sigh and pinned him with an irritated look. “If you must know, I’m having dinner with Eliot and his mother. It’s my first time meeting her and I want to look nice.”
“Oh.” Grandpa’s chuckle was low and mocking. “It’s getting serious, huh? You’re actually meeting his mother.”
“I don’t know that I would use the term ‘serious,’” I hedged.
“You moved in with him.”
“Yes, well, give it a rest.” My agitation came out to play. “I might be a little nervous.” It was hard for me to admit that. I couldn’t hide anything from my grandfather, so there was no point trying to accomplish the impossible. “I’ve never been good with mothers.”
“Especially your own.”
“Definitely not my own,” I agreed, shifting on the bench so I could get comfortable. “I never really thought about Eliot’s mother because she was in another state and he didn’t talk about her much. I knew he called her every two weeks or so and spent about an hour talking to her, but they seemed like really boring conversations about the weather and flowers, so I didn’t pay much attention.”
Grandpa snorted. “You’re nothing if not predictable.”
I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, so I ignored it. “Then, out of the blue, he said that she was coming to visit. She’s going to stay in our house and everything. He seemed excited one minute and terrified the next.”
“And that put you on edge,” Grandpa surmised. “Don’t bother denying it. I know how your mind works.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. “I can’t help wanting her to like me because … well, just because. It’s a weird feeling for me, though, because I spend all of my time not caring if other people like me.”
“I think you’re wrong on that front,” Grandpa countered. “It’s not that you don’t care if people like you. It’s that you openly try to tick certain people off, which has garnered you a rather colorful reputation. You like that reputation.”
“I guess.”
“Also, when you met Eliot, you weren’t looking for a relationship,” Grandpa continued. “You were looking for a gun to protect yourself. He kind of snuck under your radar.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“You didn’t try to win Eliot’s affections,” Grandpa explained. “You were too distracted by other things. That was to your advantage because Eliot had time to get to know you when you weren’t trying to be something you’re not.”
“I never try to be something I’m not.”
“Hey, I happen to like you how you are, kid,” Grandpa supplied. “But you’re nowhere near as mean as you pretend to be.”
“Oh, I’m mean.”
“You are when people deserve it,” Grandpa agreed. “I like that mean edge you have. Why do you think I encouraged you so much when you were a teenager?”
“So you could have a partner in crime when you decided to taunt the area cops.”
“Well, that’s a fair point.” Grandpa grinned as he cast me a sidelong look. “You’re basically a good person with a unique attitude. Eliot saw that because you didn’t try to hide it. That’s how you ended up together.”
“Is that your roundabout way of saying that Eliot’s mother will like me if I allow her to see the real me?” I asked.
Grandpa shrugged. “I don’t know. Eliot’s mother might well and truly hate you.”
“Oh, well, that makes me feel better.”
“You can’t force that woman to like you if she’s predisposed to dislike you.”
“I know.”
“What does Eliot say?”
“Well, he blew up last night when I paid Carly and Lexie to come to the house and hide all my Star Wars stuff.”
Grandpa’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Why would you do that? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. I still didn’t know why I did it. Anyone else in the world and I wouldn’t have cared. Eliot’s mother was a different story. “I guess it’s because Eliot has no other family than his mother, at least as far as I know. If she doesn’t like me then he’s going to have to make a choice.”
“And you think he won’t choose you?”
“No, I think the opposite.” I was uncomfortable thanks to Grandpa’s studied stare. “He’ll pick me, but then that means he will
lose his mother. I don’t think that’s fair. If anyone should lose their mother, it’s me. I have plenty of other family waiting in the wings. Eliot only has his mother.”
“Oh.” Grandpa’s lips curved, making me feel a bit stupid. “You’re doing what you think is best for Eliot. That’s also not like you.”
“Oh, geez.” I slapped my hand to my forehead. “I don’t need this.”
“Well, you’re going to get it.” Grandpa was matter-of-fact. “Kid, you’ve always been a bit selfish. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s not necessarily a good thing either. While I’m a great believer that you should always be yourself, I think you were following a different instinct this time. It was the instinct to make sure Eliot got what he needed for a change.”
“Eliot made me put everything back. He says that’s not what he needed.”
“I know. You still thought you were doing the right thing for Eliot. I applaud that. Just because you ultimately made a boneheaded move doesn’t mean your heart wasn’t in the right place. Eliot is right. You should be yourself.”
“Even if his mother hates me?”
“I think you can only do your very best and see what cards you’re dealt.”
“I hate poker metaphors.”
“Yes, well, you’ll survive.” Grandpa patted my knee and grinned. “Did you say you wanted to talk to me about something? I’m guessing being nervous about Eliot’s mother coming to visit isn’t what you had in mind.”
The conversational shift threw me, but I caught up quickly. “Oh, right. I did have a question to ask you. Have you ever heard of a Jay Truman?”
Grandpa pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not that I recall. Why?”
I told him about my afternoon, ignoring the way he made faces about how I was on vacation and should be focused on other things. When I was done, instead of lambasting me for poor scheduling, Grandpa looked thoughtful as he stroked his chin.
“Jay Truman? Are you sure that was the name?”
I nodded. “He was seventy-five and lived in those high-rise apartments in Chesterfield Township.”
On Deadline & Under Fire Page 7
