Miami Noir (18 page)

Boozanne came floating my way in the living room, with a cigarette, sipping from one of Melodie’s good glasses filled with a clear gold liquid. I hoped it wasn’t the scotch Bob was saving from his birthday. She’d stripped off her clothes and put on a see-through robe that left a gap in front, with pink nipples and red muff peeking out.

I grabbed her cigarette and flung it into the sink, even though the Lamberts wouldn’t be home for hours.

She clucked her tongue at me. “Such a worrier.” She held up her glass. “They’ve got all kinds of booze in the cabinet, Junior. I’m surprised you haven’t polished it off.”

“Now I shoulda told you—you got to be careful not to start suspicions. I hope that’s the Cutty’s.”

She tossed her curls. “Why drink Cutty’s when there’s Glenlivet?”

“Okay, just take it easy. We’ll add a little water. Don’t open new bottles and don’t drink more than a couple shots of any one thing.”

“No problem. There’s lots to try. I haven’t had this much fun since I was twelve and broke into the neighbors’.”

“Oh yeah? What’d you do?”

“Not much. Three of us girls—we just put a little hole in the screen door and got excited sneaking around, looking in the bedrooms. Adrenaline rush.”

“There is something to that,” I said.

“I don’t know why we didn’t check for money or take anything.”

“Maybe you didn’t need anything.”

“Oh, Junior, you always need money,” she said. She cuffed me on the chest.

“I don’t. Not always.”

“That’s why you’re special—besides this.”

She bent down and undid my belt and zipper, dropping my pants, and pulled me against her big powdered tits for a long sloppy kiss. I was useless, barely able to waddle to the bed and kick my pants off my knees so I could climb on top of her. I got her breathing hard, grunting and cooing, and we were both sweating rivers. I thought for a second about messing the sheets, but I had plenty of time to run laundry.

After that, Boozanne got the fancy platter out of the china cabinet, and the cloth napkins, and we ate a snack—olives and crackers and imported cheeses, a small chunk of goat cheese, Parmesan, some Stilton. I wouldn’t’ve touched the moldy stuff on my own, but the Lamberts had introduced me to lots of new food, and most of it was pretty damn tasty. Boozanne was still hungry so I made her a peanut butter and jelly, which was always safe, but she didn’t much like it.

She left around 3, and I was exhausted, but there was plenty of cleaning to do. I panicked when I picked up a juice glass and saw a white ring on the coffee table. I found some furniture spray that didn’t work, but while I stood there pulling out my hair, the ring started to lighten up, and it finally disappeared. I did the dishes and threw the napkins into the washer with the sheets. I hoped there was no ironing required.

Bones came out from somewhere to lay on me while I waited for the fabric softener cycle. He was purring and it felt good relaxing with him on my chest after the wild afternoon. “Bones,” I said, “here’s a woman who knows all about me and still likes me.” I massaged behind his ears and his jaw went slack because it felt so good. “I’m pretty damned fond of her too.” I couldn’t say the word
love
out loud, not even to Bones.

He stared me in the face with his big green eyes, and I thought I saw sadness. Course, he always looked like that, and just because Boozanne came around, I wasn’t gonna ditch him.

Soon Boozanne quit her job. It was understandable—all the typing they piled on her. She was consulting with a lawyer on some female issues too. I was glad to see more of her, but it was worrisome, her not having any money coming in. She had to turn in the car she had on lease, but luckily her apartment was on a bus route. We went on like that for a couple weeks, wild sex and a snack several afternoons. She passed some time looking through the Lamberts’s closets and drawers. I’d seen it all already, so I sipped whiskey and watched her flesh move around in that skimpy robe. Lucky I had the place memorized, cause caution was not her strong feature, and I had to make sure everything got put back. As it was, a wine glass got broke. They had plenty, so it was no problem, but she scared me sometimes—yet I couldn’t think of what I used to do without her.

I picked up bottles and cans for extra money, so I could pay for beer at night. A couple times I did dishes for cash. I wasn’t really allowed out of Kentucky, so I couldn’t take a job that checked records. I got into a neighbor’s storage shed and found an old waffle iron and ice skates to pawn, and let my gym membership go. I could swim and shower at the beach, and let my clothes dry on me Saturday and Sunday. I didn’t have much time to work out anyways with all the hours it took to scrounge. Boozanne got some kind of weekend job, just enough to keep up her rent until she could find something good. She wouldn’t take no cash from me.

In early July, the Lamberts went to California for a week. It was blocked out on their calendar ahead of time and Boozanne and me couldn’t wait. Boozanne moved right in and we took over the place. The first morning she cooked me biscuits and fluffy eggs like her grandma taught her, and we took our time eating, and left the dishes all day, and smoked a little of the weed that Boozanne found in Bob’s chest of drawers. The only problem was that Bones was shipped off somewhere so we didn’t have our pet. I wished I could have told Melly that I’d take care of him.

One day we were lazying around in the bedroom and I showed Boozanne Melodie’s “secret” drawer. Big mistake. My plan was to slip one of the old rings on her finger to see what she’d say, but she spotted Melodie’s gold heart right in front. It was a real delicate necklace that was usually missing, so I knew Melodie normally wore it a lot and must have left it home for safe keeping. Boozanne became instantly attached, but I didn’t want to let her take it. It wasn’t so much that I thought we’d get caught, but it was probably a present from Bob, or maybe even an heirloom. None of her other stuff was gold.

Boozanne put it around her neck and asked me to fasten it. “Please, baby?” She was stroking my bicep and I liked that.

“Just wear it while you’re here, then put it back.”

“My birthday’s coming up and I know you don’t have money to buy me a present.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“November, but you won’t have any money then either.”

It was true, and I had never bought her a gift.

“It’ll be a nice memento of our vacation,” she said. “Please, baby, please?”

I suggested a small silver heart that was far back in the drawer, but she was allergic to any metals except gold. I felt terrible about Melodie, but seeing how pretty the gold looked in Boozanne’s freckled cleavage, and how much she wanted it, I let her take it. Maybe I didn’t have a choice.

When the Lamberts got home, I checked for extra Kleenexes in Melodie’s bathroom trash, and there weren’t none, but over the weekend an extra lock was installed on each door, and that creeped me out. One more mistake and they’d start checking more carefully. I tried to get the heart back so I could plant it in a front pair of underwear in Melodie’s drawer, like it fell there, but Boozanne wouldn’t give it up. She didn’t understand my feelings about Melly and how I enjoyed having a home.

Things went good for a few more weeks, and then Boozanne got tired of the job hunt and lack of cash. Safe pickings for the pawn shop were running slim in the neighborhood, and without a car, it was tough. Boozanne said she had a plan to make some real money, live high on the hog for a while, do some traveling, then get an apartment of our own, a used car. Sneaking around was exciting at first, but she was tired of it. I didn’t want to leave the Lamberts, but my odds for getting caught were climbing, and I wanted Boozanne.

We were sitting on the couch, me petting Bones, when she told me the specifics.

“I’ll handle it,” she said. “We’ve got credit cards, Social Security numbers, birth certificates, checkbooks, bank statements, passports, and salable goods. You’ve heard of identity theft?”

“But they’re nice people. Melodie is. I don’t want to steal from them.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been stealing from them for months.”

“Not enough to matter.”

“That’s what I’m saying. It’s time to do something that matters. They’ve got almost $10,000 in their checking account.”

“I can’t,” I said. “They’re like relatives.”

“And I’m not?”

When she put it like that, I had no argument. I’d only seen them at a distance and in pictures, but it still didn’t feel right.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said. She went to the desk and brought back some insurance papers. “Look, they’re well-insured for their possessions—and the credit cards pay for fraudulent charges. I won’t write checks if you don’t want me to. It seems tricky anyway.”

“I can cut a hole somewhere else for the burglaring.”

“Too much trouble and you might not be as lucky. Besides, I already started.” She pulled two credit cards out of her pocketbook and held them in front of my face. There was one card for Melodie and one for Robert.

It was all real then, and my guts were shot out. “Jesus,” I said.

“We’ve got their spare cards, plus these new ones I applied for, $5,000 limit on each.”

She dug back into her pocketbook and pulled out a small satin pouch. Gold and cut stones glittered inside. “Necklace and earring set—charged off the Internet. I’ve got more stuff coming. We can get cash for these, and I bet you can find somebody to buy the passports.”

It was too late to stop her without calling in the law.

“I’ll fly us anywhere you want in the fifty states. You deserve it, baby,” she said.

I let her kiss me then, and when I felt those lips, my mind went into a haze, a vision of us sipping bourbon on the porch swing of a cozy cabin in the mountains of Kentucky, Boozanne exhaling smoke into the cool summer breeze.

Three weeks later was moving day. Boozanne had bought two suitcases on wheels, filled them with our new clothes and more high-end jewelry pieces she’d ordered. She was busy wrapping up old silver trays she’d found in a chest. I’d liquidated the necklace and earrings and some nice watches, and we had $6,000, airline tickets, and room reservations for someplace exotic—a surprise—and the new credit cards to charge whatever we needed when we got there. Visa and MasterCard had called about unusual activity, but Boozanne answered all their questions. We took the bills for those old cards out of the mailbox, so we had plenty of leeway before the Lamberts could notice anything wrong. She figured we could vacation for two weeks and still have resources to rent a place and get a cheap car after that. When we ran low on money, we’d start over, somewhere else. I was excited about traveling with Boozanne, but I still hated ripping off the Lamberts. They’d been good to me, in their way.

I finished wiping the furniture and appliances for fingerprints and closed the suitcases, and Boozanne was still poking around, wearing rubber gloves. Bones was sleeping on the couch and I gave him a goodbye pet, feeling real sad.

I went into the kitchen and looked at the clock. I couldn’t believe it. “Damn!” I yelled. “It’s a quarter to 7!”

I ran back into the living room. She was searching the bottom drawers of the desk.

“Boozanne! We gotta go. It’s not like we’re headed to a movie.”

“Five minutes. I don’t want to miss anything. Money goes fast on vacation.”

“We’re cutting it too close. I never stay this late.”

“No worries.” Just then she opened the drawer with the folders of silver dollars. I held my breath, hoping she’d pass them by again, thinking they were books.

She flipped open the first cover. “Oh, wow!” She lifted them out and carried them to the coffee table. She opened another and another.

“We don’t have room for those old coins. They’re too heavy,” I told her.

She pulled out a dollar and studied it. “Mouse, these could be worth a fortune! They’re antique silver dollars.”

“Naw, put ’em down. You’re allergic to silver. We gotta get out of here.”

“No way. Open the suitcase.”

“Boozanne, I won’t take ’em. They’re Melodie’s inheritance. It’s all she got.”

“You’re insane. Now open that suitcase, or I will. I’ll leave you here with your fucking Melodie.”

I didn’t have time to let that sink in. There was the sound of a car pulling into the carport. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered. I ducked and took a glance out the corner of the window. “It’s her.” I grabbed Boozanne’s hand, but she didn’t budge. “Come on!” I hollered. “We can make it out the hole.”

“I’m not leaving without the coins.”

I just stood there, unable to gather a thought. She was digging into her pocketbook.

“Stand next to the door,” she said. “Grab her mouth from behind and hold her.”

I did as I was told, and Boozanne ducked around the corner. In seconds, the key turned and poor Melly stepped inside. I yanked her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth and kicking the door shut before she could scream. I pulled her down against me and fell half on top of her. She was more delicate than I thought, and her fine skin had wrinkles I never saw in the pictures, but she was beautiful. My eyes filled because I knew I hurt her. She whimpered and my heart broke. When I looked up, Boozanne was bent toward us, those freckled double-Ds spilling over her brassiere near my head, her purple shirt pulled up, covering her face and hair. The shirt was nylon, and she was stretching it so she could see through the thin mesh. A .25 in her other hand pointed straight into Melodie’s ear.

“What the fuck?” I was so stunned I let go of Melodie’s mouth, and she yanked her face sideways and screamed. I cut her off fast and pushed her head under my armpit, but she’d already seen my face. Bones was there, staring at me, his green eyes huge, not knowing whose side to be on.

“Move aside!” yelled Boozanne.

All I could think of was sweet Melodie’s brains splattered on my shirt. None of it her fault. I grabbed the barrel of the gun and tilted it toward the ceiling. I couldn’t risk any new ideas of Boozanne’s that might get Melly shot. “Go!” I yelled at Boozanne. “You go! I’ll hold her while you get away.”