Danger Comes Home (Kelly O'Connell Mystery) (13 page)

I still didn’t know about Lorna, but at least he lit somewhere, so I asked, ending with, “Terrell promised to call, but he hasn’t called yet.”

“Probably because he’s still with her. She’s not being cooperative, but he’s doing his best.”

“I’m not one bit surprised, and you shouldn’t be. In a huge way, this is one of those cases where the law looks foolish. Making a fuss over one old lady growing pot for herself.”

“Thanks for the support, Kelly.”

“I can’t believe she’ll be indicted. It just seemed too preposterous, but I know her superior attitude might get her in trouble.” Not everyone would be as sympathetic as I was. “I forgot to call Claire. Lorna banks at her bank.”

“And you were going to ask Claire to give you her balance? Come on, Kelly, you know banking information is privileged.”

“Terrell’s going to get tired of our pro bono referrals.”

A gentle knock on the back door. I called out “Come on in,” and Joe and Theresa came into the kitchen. Theresa had obviously been crying, and Joe looked stoic, but he kept her hand firmly in his. I offered drinks, but Joe declined, saying he’d be drinking beer later in the evening. Theresa, in a subdued voice, asked for wine, which I poured.

“Theresa will spend the evening inside with us,” Mike announced.

The girls came in just then, preceded by a chorus of “What’s for dinner?” “I smell spaghetti sauce,” and “I’m sooo hungry.” They rushed to greet Theresa and Joe but grew tentative at the look on Theresa’s face.

“Are you all right?” Em asked.

She shook her head in the negative, and tears leaked out of her eyes again. “I don’t want him to go,” she said to Mike, her words a plea.

“Theresa, I’ll be fine,” Joe said, “and I’ll be careful. Just going to shoot some pool, listen to what I hear.”

“I’d offer to go with you….”

Joe laughed. “Mr. Mike, they’d spot you as ‘the man’ right away. No, I can do this alone. I’ll be back by ten.”

Mike explained that he had asked Joe to do some “detecting” because he wanted to hear the word on the street about the body they’d found by the railroad tracks.

“It’s too dangerous,” Theresa protested, freeing her hand to take the glass of wine I offered.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Mike, why is it so important that Joe go out tonight. What’s happened?”

He gave me an inscrutable look and said, “Joe and Theresa know.”

“Well I don’t,” I said, “and I deserve to.”

He looked at the girls, who were staring at me as if they’d never seen me act this way before, and maybe that hadn’t. I got the message. “Okay,” I said, “but that’s a cross-your-heart promise.”

He almost laughed but he nodded in agreement, and Maggie said, “You aren’t going to tell us, are you?”

“No, my darlings, I’m not. It’s not something you need to know, and it could put you in danger.”

I really, really wished he hadn’t said that. I wanted to tell myself that Mike wouldn’t send Joe to do anything dangerous, but I also knew that helping Mike was the only way Joe could clear his own name. Now I wanted to rush through the evening so Mike could tell me what was going on. He wouldn’t do that until the girls were asleep.

Dinner was a solemn affair, and the evening didn’t get much better. Terrell did call and said that he had been able to finagle a solitary cell for Lorna but she resisted the jail uniform. When last seen she was sitting on the cell’s bunk, her expression grim, still dressed in her Chinese gown of the day, which was by then pretty bedraggled. I could see a trip to the dry cleaners in my future.

“Hearing at nine in the morning.”

“Shall I come?”

“You know, Kelly, that might be a good idea. Do you know enough to be a character witness?”

I hesitated. “Not really, but I can testify that she’s reclusive, doesn’t let people into her house and so forth. She was strictly growing that for her own use—I guess that Jaime, whoever he is, might be an accomplice, because he probably got it and planted it for her. But I think this whole ridiculous thing has gone far enough.”

Terrell laughed. “I agree, but please don’t tell the judge that.”

“Terrell, did you find out if she has any money to pay you?”

“Didn’t even ask. It will come up tomorrow. I expect she’ll get a fine and probation—and she’ll keep growing the stuff, unless Jaime bails on her. Then she’ll have to find a street source.”

As Mike had told me, there were apparently plenty of street sources in Fairmount. Maybe Joe could give her Little Ben’s name.
Stop, Kelly, this isn’t the time to be funny.

I thanked him and hung up.

Joe left, Mike picked up his book, Theresa read to the girls and then stared listlessly at the TV. It was a long evening. I finally excused myself to shower, change, and lay out something presentable to wear to court in the morning. I’d done this with Claire before, and I’d go back to get Lorna and take her home. And take some food for her. I knew I wouldn’t get gratitude, but it’s what I had to do.

Joe knocked on the front door a little before ten, and Mike barely beat Theresa to the door. Neither of them liked what they saw. He had a split lip, a swelling black eye, and he walked with a limp. “Got into a little trouble,” he said, with an ironic smile.

I quickly shut the door to the bedrooms so the girls wouldn’t hear. We rushed Joe into the kitchen and I gathered bandages, antiseptic and the like. No steak for the eye, so an ice pack would have to do. We made him hush until Theresa and I finished ministering to him, although

Mike was obviously itching to hear what he had to say.

Finally, he could talk, and the first thing he said was, “Gonna lose my job again. Peter won’t want me frightening off his customers. I’ll call him first thing.”

“Let me do it,” Mike said. “What time does he get there?”

“By six-thirty.” He told the rest of the story. He told his old friends he’d heard there was a big bust today, wondered if they’d heard about it. They hadn’t, and Little Ben went off with his cell phone to call someone. Came back and said they didn’t know nothing about it. Joe told them he was glad they weren’t caught in it, and then they began to ask how he knew.

“I told them I overheard you talking to your wife,” he said. “Told ’em I thought that was the kind of thing they wanted to know. They said yeah, yeah, it was, and everything seemed okay. Then Little Ben’s phone rang, and he walked away, came back and whispered something to Nathan, and all of a sudden Nathan takes a swing at me. I came back fighting but they got other guys and they all jumped me. Said they wanted to know details and didn’t listen when I told them I didn’t know nothing more. They said next time I better get the whole story, but I said I could hardly ask.”

“This may signal the end of your detecting,” Mike said. “I won’t put you in danger.”

“Mr. Mike, I got to do it. They threatened Theresa again. We can’t live this way. They warned me I better cop a plea when my trial comes up. I guess they figure if I’m found guilty, they’ll be safer.”

Mike shook his head. “Not true.”

“I know that, but those guys don’t think straight. I got to go out again, after my eye heals, to show them I’m not afraid.”

“Maybe that will buy enough time for the police to solve the murder and crack the drug sales,” I said. Then I added, “Sorry. No pun intended.

No one took me seriously.

Theresa and Joe went out to the apartment, and Mike set the alarm, turned off lights and got the house ready for the night. Once we were in the bedroom, I turned on him but he held up a hand in the peace sign.

“We were trying a little, oh, I don’t know—a reverse sting.”

“With Joe as a guinea pig?”

“He volunteered once I told him about it. We want the snitch in the department to believe something big went down today. In truth the only bust we’ve made this week is Miss Lorna, but they don’t need to know that. We’re hoping this smokes out whoever in the squad is warning them.”

“How will you know?”

“Conroy’s going to call a squad meeting tomorrow He’s going to carry through the bluff. My job is to watch reactions carefully.”

For some reason that angered me. “What are you? His second-in-command?”

“Kelly, whatever you think of him, Conroy and I have worked together for a long time now, and we make a good team. He knows I have a personal interest in all this, and it’s only logical he chooses me to be his backup. We may learn something; we may not. But we have to start someplace.”

“And I repeat, you sent Joe out as a guinea pig. And look what happened to him.”

It was chilly in our bedroom that night.

Promptly at nine the next morning, I was in the courtroom, having left a raft of messages for Keisha. That morning at breakfast, I’d asked Maggie about Jenny, and she said that the child looked happier, seemed more talkative. She’d even hovered on the fringes of a group of girls that included Maggie, but Maggie’s attempts to draw her into the conversation were unsuccessful.

“Too much too soon,” I suggested.

“Yeah, I’m thinking she might come for supper Saturday and we’d hang out, you know watch TV, stuff like that, maybe spend the night.”

“Fine, I’ll do the chauffeuring.” I hadn’t talked to the girls about Jenny’s father being dead, and I guess they didn’t know. That would have to come up before she spent the night, but not at breakfast. I also didn’t know what Mona had told Jenny. For all I know, she never mentioned it. That got me to wondering if she made funeral arrangements, notified any family that might want to know. There was a whole raft of stuff still not resolved.

Now with the girls at school and other loose threads temporarily handled, I was in the court of Judge Thomas Sullivan before whom I testified when Joe was accused of vandalizing my property.

All rose when the judge entered, and he called two cases before he got to Lorna, who looked distinctly impatient and not happy to be there. When her case was called, Terrell escorted her to the defense table, but she brushed off the hand he put at her elbow. When the judge asked how she pleaded, she stood straight and firm and said in a clear, steady voice, “Definitely not guilty.”

“Mr. Johnson?” the judge peered over his spectacles at Terrell, who got up and addressed the court, explaining that Ms. McDavid was a lady guilty only of having learned to smoke opium in China years ago and now growing a small plot of marijuana for her own consumption to continue a lifelong habit.

“Well,” drawled the judge, “I guess that’s better than having developed an opium habit.” Mike had to explain to me that heroin was the most common illegal drug derived from opium, which actually had other uses.

Terrell smiled appreciatively at the judge’s remark and went on. “She promises to cease and desist”—Lorna frowned at him when he said that—”and she knows she will be fined.” Terrell argued against a jail sentence because of her age and condition.

I wondered what her condition was, other than arrogant.

“Do you have any witnesses?” Judge Sullivan asked.

“Your honor, I have one testimonial, if I may call Ms. Kelly O’Connell.”

Desperately hoping he didn’t remember me, I got up, took the witness stand, and was sworn in. He remembered me.

“Ms. O’Connell, welcome back to my courtroom. Do you have your law degree yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Perhaps that’s in our favor this morning. What can you tell us about Ms. McDavid?”

“Sir, she’s a recluse by every definition of the word. She does not leave her house, and she does not allow anyone in except her maid and her gardener. Her maid left her, and I’ve been buying her groceries.”

“So you don’t think she’s been buying and selling marijuana?”

I shook my head emphatically, “No, sir, I don’t. I know she smokes an occasional marijuana cigarette…”

Terrell put his head in his hands, and the judge smiled broadly and asked me, “Let me clarify: are you testifying for the prosecution or the defense?”

“The defense, sir. I was just trying to be honest.”

“Commendable. Do you have anything else to say?”

“Not much, just that I have visited her or tried to several times—I want to renovate her house before it is beyond saving.”

“Do you have a personal interest in Ms. McDavid or just the house?”

“Mostly the house. Ms. McDavid has never let me get close enough to her for a personal relationship. But my instinct is that she would not be dealing.”

“Ms. O’Connell, I’m going to follow your instinct and dismiss the charges. Case dismissed, if the defendant destroys her pot patch.” He banged his gavel. “But,” he added, looking at me, “please get your law degree before you appear in my court again.”

“Yes, your honor.” I fled to the hallway, where I met Terrell and Lorna. She favored me with a long look but said nothing. I guess thanks didn’t come easily from her lips. Nor was Terrell exactly effusive, “Thanks, Kelly. I think. I really thought you blew it there for a minute. Sometime you must tell me the story of your relationship with the judge.”

“It’s not a relationship,” I said hotly. “I just testified before him once—the first time Joe was charged.”

“Well, let’s hope when Joe’s case comes up again it’s in Judge Sullivan’s court. And I’ll definitely call you. Could you get that degree in the next few months?”

“Very funny, Terrell.”

“Okay. Ms. McDavid is free to go. Do you want to take her home?”

“Of course.”

Terrell waited with her while I pulled my car up in front of the courthouse. Then he gallantly opened the door, saw that she was belted in—a move she half-heartedly resisted—and then closed the door, saying, “I know you’ll call if you need me.”
Nice bit of irony, Terrell.

As I pulled away from the curb, Lorna, uh I mean Ms. McDavid, said in her imperious tone, “Please take me directly home.” You’d have thought she was directing a driver.

I explained that my assistant had gone by and gotten her weekly list of groceries, and I’d have to stop at the office to get them. She harrumphed but sat in the car after warning, “Don’t be long,” as I got out. Some people don’t know about gratitude.

When we reached her house, she said. “All right. And, Ms. O’Connell, I suppose I owe you thanks for your help. I’m grateful. But if you hadn’t come snooping in my kitchen, no one would ever have known what was in my backyard.”

With that she turned inside and shut the door, leaving me standing with two bags of groceries.

****

I fumed my way back to the office, tired before noon, hungry, and out of sorts. Keisha picked up her purse and said, “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going? I have messages on my desk, I have to check my email, I want to rant about the ingrates in this world.”

“After lunch. It’s meatloaf day at the Grill. Let’s go.” I went willingly. Halfway there, she asked about Joe.

“Peter told him to take a day to let the swelling go down, and then come for work tomorrow. Peter is a saint…and I will tell him so right now.”

I did, and he just smiled. “I’ve had someone work for me with an ankle monitor. It all depends on their attitude and their work. If they don’t act like the world owes them, then I’m pulling for them. Joe’s a good guy, and I’m sorry about the mess he’s in. We’ll just say he walked into a door.”

Meatloaf is indeed comfort food, and it made me feel a lot better. Plus Keisha let me pour out my rant about Lorna McDavid while we ate. Except the more I ranted, the more she laughed. “Kelly, don’t you know smoking dope is against the law? You just gave the judge every reason to sentence her. There are kids in jail now over one reefer.”

“Well,” I protested, “that’s wrong. But it’s even more wrong with an old lady. Keisha, I’m pretty sure she’s in her eighties, and I think she’s beginning to slip.”

“You gonna keep buying her groceries?”

I thought a moment. “Oh, sure, I can’t just abandon her. And that house cries out for Anthony to work on it.”

****

When I picked the girls up from school, Maggie was atwitter with plans. “Jenny says she’ll ask her mom about Saturday night. She’s pretty sure since her dad’s not around now, she’ll get to come—”

“Where’s her dad?” Em asked.

“Gone. I don’t know. He was a creep, and Jenny hated him.” Maggie was impatient to get on with her plans.

“That’s very sad,” Em said in a solemn tone.

I didn’t tell what I knew, and yet I thought the girls had, eventually to know. And I wondered again if Mona had ever told Jenny what really had happened to Todd Wilson. “Yes, it is, Em, but let’s let Maggie finish telling us about Saturday night, like what she wants to eat.”

“That’s not so important,” Maggie said. “The thing is that some of the other girls have decided Jenny’s okay. Isn’t that cool? So I was telling Mandy that I’d invited her over, and Mandy actually asked if she could come. Can she? A sleepover?”

Mandy was the current BFF (best friend forever), although that status changed in the blink of an eye and I thought they ought to leave “forever” out of the equation and just talk about their “bestie.” Aloud, I said, “Let’s talk to Mike, but I think the first time Jenny stays over you should make it just the two of you. I doubt Jenny’s been to many sleepovers.”
If any.

Em was pouting. “They’ll tell me to go away, and I won’t have any fun.”

“No, we won’t,” Maggie said and then added, “Well, maybe.”

“You could have a friend over too, Em. We’ll make it a sleepover night…or maybe if Joe’s working, Theresa would let you come out to the apartment and spend the evening with her.”

“Oh, I’d like that better.” Em was enthusiastic. An evening with Theresa was a special treat and would only be made better if Theresa had a cat like Claire did when she lived in the apartment.

“We’ll talk to Mike at supper.”

Once home, I settled them to homework and checked out the freezer to see what we were having for supper. Looked like a chicken casserole to me. Where was that recipe for chicken with hard-boiled eggs and mushroom soup and—what? Pasta? Anyway, it had a potato chip crust and sounded good. I could experiment. Mike would either be delighted or a little dismayed. I found the recipe, put the chicken in the microwave to defrost.

“Mom, have you started dinner? I’m starving.” Maggie brought me back to reality

“It’s in the oven,” I called to Maggie much after her original question.

****

Saturday night, as planned, Jenny came for supper and to spend the night. Mona said happily that she and a friend would enjoy an adult supper out. She wanted to try the Seventh Street Wine Bistro, and I couldn’t help but think about the money puzzle with her. For one thing, I didn’t know she had any friends; for another, the new Seventh Street Wine Bistro downtown is not cheap, or so I’d heard. Unaware of my speculation, Mona said she would pick Jenny up around ten Sunday morning, in time for church. Another unsuspected facet of Mona—and a twinge of guilt for me. My mom was always after me to take the girls to church, but there was always so much to do on Sunday morning.

Jenny was cheerful, seeming to come more out of her shell as Maggie indicated. Her hair still showed the lines of Theresa’s good cut, and her clothes fit her. Rain confined us to the indoors. The older girls pored over a J.Jill catalog and Em complained of being bored while I was fixing supper. Since she was spending the evening with Theresa, she wanted to go out there right now but instead I showed her how to follow the recipe for cornbread (with some sugar in it—so good!) to go with pork tenderloins I had ready to roast—the pre-seasoned kind, of course, with garlic, thyme, and rosemary. While we puttered in the kitchen, I could hear Jenny and Maggie’s conversation.

“Sixty dollars! My mom would never pay that for a T-shirt.”

Sigh. “Neither would mine, but it’s really cool, isn’t it?”

“Oooh, look at these pants. They’d be great for summer.”

“Yeah, but they’re seventy-nine dollars.”

Em looked at me and said, “Don’t they know we shop at Target?”

Theresa came in to have supper with us, as she usually did when Joe was working the dinner shift, and Mike worked to draw both our guests into the conversation, though Em chattered incessantly about the evening she was going to have with Theresa. Theresa did manage to say that her work was going well and she was trying to study on her own in anticipation of Joe’s return to his job after the drug charges were cleared—she was tactful enough not to say that but to say “when he can.”