Nutcase (13 page)

“Be sure to let me know when you want to set up another playdate,” Lila called out as Jay and I walked toward his SUV.

We’d barely pulled from Lila’s driveway before Jay gave a grunt. “That’s got to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. “I don’t know, Katie. You seem to be a magnet for nutcases.”

I leaned back in my seat. “So you’ve said.”

“I’m not trying to be critical, babe, but you have to admit things were a little strange back there.”

I didn’t respond. I was glad when Jay pulled into my driveway. I climbed out and put Mike down. She seemed to stagger a bit before she got her footing. Jay followed me inside the house. Mike headed for her doggie door.

“Would you like to lie down?” Jay asked me. “You look wiped out.”

“Actually, I’d like to grab a soda and sit in the backyard. I don’t get outside much.”

“Let’s do it.”

I grabbed two soft drinks from the refrigerator and unlocked my back door. Mike had obviously done her business, because she had found a patch of sun and stretched out on the lawn. Jay and I sat at a picnic table the previous tenants had left behind. The weather had worn the wood smooth.

“I love sitting out here,” I said, opening my can and taking a sip.

Jay did the same. “You and I don’t take enough time for relaxation, what with my work schedule, and the colorful situations you seem to find yourself in.”

I didn’t know if I was being overly sensitive, but his remark sounded like another dig. I wondered if he realized how critical he’d become.

“What do you know about gangs?” I asked, wanting to change the topic.

He arched one brow. “You thinking about joining one?”

I told him about the charges against Ricky, and the evidence that suggested he was guilty. “At first I thought the attack on the priest was gang related, but the evidence against Ricky is pretty damning.”

“We see gang activity on a daily basis. It’s becoming an epidemic, and not just in Atlanta.” He took a sip of his drink. “They move in and claim a certain area, and it becomes their territory. If an opposing gang member is caught infringing on another’s territory, it’s a sure death sentence. They make their money on drugs and prostitution and extortion. Business owners are expected to pay for protection, and it doesn’t come cheap.”

“Sounds like the Mafia,” I said.

“They’re more dangerous than the Mafia, and there are more of them nationwide.”

“Is it hard to tell one gang from another?”

“They have their own colors, tattoos, and hand signals. As in the case of the Crips and the Bloods, they wear their bandanas and their belt buckles differently in order to distinguish one from the other. The bad news is they’re recruiting kids off the playground. There is an initiation. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of MS-13, but with that gang, an initiate is beaten by a number of members for thirteen seconds. That’s a long time when you’re getting kicked around by a violent group. Plus, once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

“I just don’t get it. Why would anyone attack an old priest?” I asked.

Jay looked thoughtful. “Maybe the priest was making trouble for the gang. Maybe he saw something. Who knows? Has he said anything?”

“He’s in critical condition.” I sighed. “Ricky is an honor student who has never been in trouble. He wants to go to medical school.”

“Sometimes even the most promising kids cave in under pressure, Katie,” he added. He looked at his soda and shook his head.

“What?”

“If this Ricky
is
part of a gang, then you’re in way over your head. If the gang thinks he’s talking, they’ll go after him
and
you. They don’t need much of a reason to kill,” he added. “I don’t know why you insist on getting involved with dangerous people.”

I decided to change the subject. “I feel bad that I dragged you away from work,” I said. “Especially with an arsonist on the loose,” I added. “How is the investigation coming along?”

“The guy is smart as hell at covering his tracks. No fingerprints, no trace evidence, nothing. We’re working with a special task force that compiles information from fire and police departments and other agencies, looking for the same MO. I think this guy has set fires before.”

“Does anyone have an idea about motive?” I asked.

“You know the profile. It could be anything from anger, resentment, a feeling of inadequacy, sexual gratification—you name it. Of course, these people aren’t as dangerous as the kind you’re dealing with. They don’t usually have an arsenal in the trunk of their car or get a thrill out of watching people die.”

“I shouldn’t have told you about Ricky.”

“I’d like you to stop seeing him before you get in too deep.”

“I can’t do that,” I said.

He looked annoyed. “What is it with you that you insist on getting involved in dangerous situations? Are you just looking for trouble?”

I felt a sudden, unexpected sting at the back of my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was cry, but the day had taken a toll on me. I sat up straighter. “Since you’re already unhappy with me, I should probably tell you what else is going on in my life.”

“I’m almost afraid to hear it.”

I took a deep breath and told him about the eviction, my attempt to find an affordable place, and, finally, agreeing to share Thad’s office.

Jay didn’t interrupt, but I watched the changing expressions on his face: surprise, disbelief, and, finally, anger.

He shook his head sadly but remained quiet.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” I asked.

He shrugged. “What do you want me to say?” he asked. “That I’m hurt as hell that you didn’t come to me in the beginning? That I feel like crap over the fact you chose to go to an old flame for help instead?” He gave a grunt. “That the two of you made arrangements to share his office without my knowledge?” he added. “This sort of takes our communication problems to a new level, don’t you think?”

I felt a lone tear run down my cheek. “You know what else sucks?” I said. “You’ve done nothing but criticize me and make snide remarks about my profession and my patients for two months.”

“I think I’ve had good reason.”

“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “There is never a good reason to make somebody feel small.”

“Maybe one of the reasons it’s so much easier for you to talk to Thad is because he doesn’t have as much at stake if something happens to you.” He drained his soda and stood. “I have to get back to the station,” he said.

I watched him walk away. I did not want him to leave, but I knew he would be in no mood to try and talk things through, and I was too weary to push.

Our relationship had hit a new low, and I felt powerless. I walked into the house and slumped on the sofa. The phone rang, and I hesitated before answering it. I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID; not even the area code.

I picked up and answered.

“Is Jay there?” a female voice asked.

“No, he’s not,” I said. “May I take a message?”

“This is Mandy Mason,” the woman said. “You and I met at the station.”

The probie with the big boobs, I thought.

“I’ve been trying to reach Jay on his cell phone, but he’s not answering,” she said. “Has he changed his number?”

He hadn’t, but I didn’t think it was any of her business. “Jay is on his way back to the station now.”

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she said. “I mean, Jay said the two of you were divorced, but I took a chance that he might be there. If you speak to him before I do, would you tell him I called?”

“Sure,” I said, annoyed that Jay had shared our marital status with a woman that Mona and I both felt couldn’t be trusted. It made me question whether I could trust Jay as well. I wondered where Mandy was calling from. “Should I tell Jay to call you at this number?”

“Yes, I’m in West Virginia.” She hung up without another word. Although I wondered why Mandy was calling from such a distance away, I did not feel West Virginia was far enough.

 

 

 

My hands trembled as I added food to Mike’s dish and gave her fresh water. It irked the hell out of me that Mandy had called me at home. Was she trying to tell me something? Had Jay given up on trying to work out our problems? That he’d walked out of our session with Evelyn and had just walked away from me weren’t very good signs.

I tried to push it from my mind as I watched Mike gobble her food. I was surprised but happy that she had regained her appetite. Perhaps I had been too snippy with Lila and Claudia. Their tactics may have been strange, but they’d had Mike’s best interests at heart, and they’d accomplished in an afternoon what I had not been able to do in weeks.

I pulled a frozen dinner from my freezer and popped it into the microwave, taking pride in the fact that I was able to get one meat, a carb, and a green vegetable for zero trans fats and less than three hundred calories. I saw that as progress, but when I sat down to eat I realized I had no desire for food. I needed to find something to occupy my time so I wouldn’t dwell on the thought that Jay might be interested in another woman.

I turned on the radio and cleaned my house from top to bottom. I realized I was going to extremes when I found myself on my knees scrubbing the baseboards. But it was better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself, and the loud music kept me from thinking too much.

The goddess of hot water was with me as I ran a bubble bath and soaked for an hour. I shaved my legs, washed my hair, and exfoliated my face, which I seldom remembered to do even though Mona constantly reminded me how important it was. I gave myself a pedicure. By the time I left the bathroom, I felt like an old Buick sent in for a tune-up and oil change.

Wearing my nicest pajamas, I turned on the TV and searched for a decent movie, anything to occupy my mind. I hoped Arnie’s father was okay; more than that, I hoped my mother was not driving poor Arnie up the wall.

I reminded myself, just as I’d reminded my patients time after time, that most of what we worried about was not within our control. Why was it so much easier to help others solve their problems, I wondered for the umpteenth time.

 

 

 

The next morning, I awoke feeling tired but happy that I had a clean house. I trudged downstairs in search of caffeine. I had just filled my mug when the phone rang. I prayed it was Jay, but the caller ID informed me it was my mother. I picked up.

“Have you seen the morning news?” she asked.

“I just woke up,” I said. “Why?”

“Firefighters responded to a four-alarm fire at about five a.m. Jay’s engine company was involved.”

“Thanks.” I hung up, carried my coffee to the living room, and turned to the local news. A reporter was speaking from a microphone.

“To recap the story,” he said, “two search and rescue workers were injured when a floor collapsed beneath them as they entered a burning building in south-side Atlanta at dawn. The six-story apartment building had been boarded up and scheduled for demolition, but a neighbor reported seeing people come and go at odd hours. A body was carried from the burning structure; the victim appears to have been a homeless person, but details are sketchy at the moment.

“Firefighters evacuated an apartment building next door, worried the blaze might spread. Those who watched the blaze said they were amazed how quickly the flames engulfed the building.”

“That’s because it’s arson, you idiot,” I said to the TV.

“We’re still waiting for word on those injured firefighters,” the reporter added.

The camera panned out. Fire trucks and rescue vehicles were parked in front of what was left of the building, a charred and smoking skeleton. I looked for Jay in the crowd but didn’t see him. I sent up prayers that he was okay. Then I sent up prayers that the other guys were okay.

I was still sitting in front of the TV when my phone rang. I raced to it. Jay spoke from the other end. “I wanted to let you know I’m okay.”

Relief flooded me. “It’s the same guy, isn’t it?” I said.

He hesitated. “Yeah.”

“By the way, Mandy called here yesterday, said she was in West Virginia. She wants you to call her back.” I paused. “Frankly, I’m surprised you gave her my phone number and told her we’re divorced.”

He was quiet for a moment. “And I’m surprised you’d think I did that.”

The next thing I heard was a dial tone.

I called my mother. I knew she would be concerned about Jay. “I just heard from Jay,” I said. “He’s fine.” I heard her sigh of relief. I wondered if she was thinking of my father. “So how is Arnie?” I asked.

“We’re really enjoying having him here,” she said. “He had someone fill in for him at work last night, and he cooked beef Wellington for us. The secret to gourmet cooking is how much booze you put into it,” she said.

“I didn’t know,” I said. “No wonder everything I cook tastes like crap.”

“Arnell has decided to stay through the weekend and teach me how to cook some of his prizewinning recipes. And he is so impressed with our junk art.”

“Everyone is,” I said. “Why do you think decorators are willing to pay so much for it?”

“What a nice thing to say, Kate. Trixie and I will be in around nine.”

I hung up. It occurred to me that I hadn’t heard Mike get up and head out her doggie door. I walked into the laundry room and turned on the light. She looked dead to the world. “Get up you lazy, good-for-nothing dog,” I called out cheerfully. She didn’t budge. I walked over to her box and nudged her with my toe. No movement.

Fear hit me like a brick. “Mike, wake up!” I said loudly, reaching over to shake her. I took solace in the fact that her body was warm and she was breathing. I tried shaking her again. I noticed the plastic bag that had contained Lila’s love treats lying beside her. Only a handful remained. I suddenly remembered I’d left the bag on the coffee table. Mike must’ve seen them and carried the bag to her bed.