Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way (6 page)

That’s all Sally needed, a lonesome, troubled Robert to worry about. She assured him of her affection and loyalty, his worth to his friends, and the likelihood that Mary Jo would call him very soon. She re-packed for
Vero Beach, frustrated because she had to wait until Wednesday to contact Madelyn. After a sleepless night, Sally decided to go directly to the police station in Vero Beach. What could she lose?

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Vero Beach, Florida

In a country that should be aware of the problem women face with abuse issues, the
Vero Beach police department acted like a throwback to the good-ole-boys days. “No, I’m not a relative,” Sally said for the eighth time to the fourth Caucasian face in a blue uniform.

“Sorry, I am not allowe
Hotel Baker, St. Charles, Illinois

d to divulge information on law-abiding citizens,” the blond, clef-chinned idiot smiled.

“And I’m not a dolt,” Sally said to make him pay attention.

“Now, we don’t need any trouble from you,” an older, pot-bellied woman officer said behind the chest-high entry desk.

“I am the court advocate for the woman,” Sally was surprised to hear herself say.

The young guy looked at the older woman. “Court advocate?”

“No such a thing,” she said. Her mouth closed into a tight fist of an expression.

“Oh yeah,” Sally argued, anger rising, brain non-functioning, “Call Judge Joe Wilcox in
Ann Arbor, Michigan; the prosecutor Jimmy Walker, or the defendant’s attorney, Andrew Sites.” Silence. “If you don’t have their phone number, call information.” At this point in the discussion, Sally slammed her new, Wal-Mart legal pad in its fake leather binder on the high desk with a resounding slap.

“Steve,” the older cop said. “Let’s just have some peace and quiet. Look up the address, phone number, and track the license plate for a Mary Jo Cardonè.”

”Might take a half-hour.” the tall kid grinned again.

Sally was sure his mother taught her southern-bred boy to shine those pearly whites whenever he needed divine help. “I will return,” Sally said at first forgetting her legal pad, not meeting their eyes as she grabbed it and nearly ran out the door.

Half an hour. Plenty of time to find a restaurant for lunch and call Robert again. She headed for the beach, where she could see an oil tanker close to the horizon. The wind was high enough to make her thankful she’d remembered to put on sunscreen. The hat, she had lied to Loretta about not packing, sailed away with the first gust of ocean breeze.

As Sally approached the blue horizon, strange characters milled about the sand. One male’s naked torso boasted a tattoo of an alligator; face front, tail wrapped around his skinny back. A long pier with a covered end for fishing caused Sally to forget all about lunch. As she leaned against the railing, out of the way of the men casting their lines, Sally spied two dolphins sporting near the pilings. Cheered by the site, Sally called Robert on her cell. “No news here, there?”

“None,” he said, sounding down. “Penny called to say she would return next month. Seems her mother’s having back surgery.”

“That’s a shame,” Sally said.

“That woman will do anything to keep Penny away from me, even faking enough pain so that a surgeon is convinced he has to operate.”

“Oh, Robert,” Sally said. “You don’t believe that, you’re just lonesome. Have
Harvey drive you down to Toledo. Mrs. Savage will love you as much as Penny does.”

“I thought of that,” Robert said, his voice still in the cellar. “Andrew says I cannot leave the state.”

“Should I come home and pay for a detective to run around down here?” Sally offered.

Playing the detective wasn’t much fun really. Maybe if she had found Mary Jo wandering around Wal-Mart, Sally could have been more enthusiastic about her part of the quest for clearing Robert’s name. Money could solve this one. Sally could be with Robert and pay for someone else, someone not really interested, maybe not motivated enough. Sally did not mention the quandary she faced.

Andrew took the phone from Robert. “Sally, I understand you want to be here with Robert, but check-out Vero Beach before you return.”

They said goodbyes. Sally grabbed an ice cream cone from a vendor and headed back to the police department.

“No address,” Steve, the blond desk-sergeant said.

“We found her car in
Arizona,” the fat lady offered.

“No address.” Sally repeated.
Arizona was a fairly sizable state.

“
Phoenix,” Steve said. “Her car is at the Coldwater Courtyard Motel.”

“Thank you,” Sally said. She didn’t care if they saw how disappointed she was.

Sally slumped out of the cold, tiled, low-slung building. She hated Florida; but before she called down floods and tsunamis, Sally thought she should swing by her sister’s and then head for a plane out of West Palm Beach.

Now Madelyn was miffed that Sally wasn’t staying. “I made the bed for you.”

“Sorry,” Sally said. “I can’t find out where Mary Jo Cardonè is, if I stay down here. The police told me she’s already in Arizona.”

“When did you see the police?” Madelyn asked.

“This morning,” Sally said. “I didn’t want to involve your name in the mess.”

“How do you find people who get accused of murder to fill your life?” she asked.

“Luck,” Sally said. “I’m so lucky, felons fall from fifty trees at the same time.”

“Stop joking,” Madelyn said. “How did you meet Mr. Koelz? I remember how you met Danny Bianco.”

“Before Danny died, I collected what I thought were rare books, and I wrote Robert to ask what the price was for a book describing old bicycles.”

“He’s an antique dealer?”

“No,” Sally said. She didn’t want to let Madelyn believe Robert had money or might need money, that would really lengthen the lecture. “Mostly he collects used books, but sometimes he gets lucky.”

“Is he married?”

“He’s a eunuch,” Sally informed her eldest sister, waiting for the fun to begin.

“How did you find that out?”

“He told me that’s why his first wife divorced him,” Sally lied.

Actually his wife divorced Robert for non-support. He never possessed more than a penny or two at any given time. Judge Joe Wilcox owned the building Robert’s shop was in, all the books were on consignment. Ed Thatch and Harvey kept Robert apprised of estate sales and divorce liquidations to keep the Bibliopole fully stocked with first editions and rare books, all on consignment to their owners. Henry Schaefer took care of Robert’s clothes and Mrs. Clankton kept Robert housed and fed. The rest of Robert’s customers tried to keep the man entertained and solvent.

“He’s a remarkable man,” Sally added. “Self-educated, opinionated, a card-carrying communist at one point. He claims to have fought in the Abraham Lincoln brigade in the Spanish Civil War, right before the Second World War.”

“You don’t believe him,” Madelyn said. Madelyn could always read Sally from when she lied as a child about dusting the rungs of the dining room chairs. Madelyn was psychic, at the time; but maybe the clinging dust was evidence enough.

“I’ve read too much Hemmingway not to find too close of a connection to Robert’s stories,” Sally sighed.

“So why do you like him?” Madelyn asked.

“I think I miss the daily contact with Danny.”

“He’s been gone six years. Can’t you find something constructive to do with your time? Visit hospitals, volunteer at a library?”

Sally looked at her sister. Madelyn didn’t have a clue about her life. She didn’t remember hearing how Sally had finished writing fourteen novels since Danny died, and had the pleasure of receiving more than one rejection for each and every one of them. A few short stories were published, and friends said they loved her poetry, but recognition for publications seemed a long way off, perhaps ‘never’ in her lifetime was more realistic. “I keep time free to write,” Sally attempted to defend herself.

“You always say that, but look at the time you’re wasting now,” Madelyn said, setting off on her familiar high horse. “You could be helping people.”

“J. C. says we’ll always have the poor with us.”

“Who’s J.C.,” Madelyn asked, as Sally edged for the door.

“Jesus Christ,” she said, reverently.

“Stay for lunch at least.” Madelyn half-heartedly motioned down the long empty hall leading to the facilities dining room.

“Not this time,” Sally said. Lunch at the assisted living facility was deadlier than chili in a diner. The food seemed all right but Sally was afraid the decrepitude of the other diners would seep into her bones. They, her bones, had problems of their own. They didn’t need sympathy from other grave-totting skeletons.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

On the plane ride back to Metro airport in Detroit, Sally dispassionately considered her options for getting Robert help in Arizona. She could, first, find a detective agency in Ann Arbor, and, second, interview the staff to see who she could confidently motivate to go down to Phoenix and extract Mary Jo. Thanks to her husband’s diligence, while he was yet living, money wasn’t the problem. Sally’s ability to find the right man or woman for the job might be. She wished John Nelson could help her interview the agents. Maybe she would call him and ask him to phone interview the detectives.

Good idea.

Sally wondered how much time they had, before the police set the trial date for Robert. What if they never found Mary Jo? Could Robert be railroaded to jail? It would kill him. All his friends knew that. Robert was a tender soul, besides not being able to harm another human being, any being - animal or plant. Robert’s life required freedom. Locked door, locked minds, anything that reeked of confinement would destroy his spirit.

Ann Arbor, Michigan

The taxi ride back to
Ann Arbor from Detroit’s Metro airport cheered Sally. Ann Arbor did not sport Florida’s ocean beaches or Arizona’s mountain ranges, but Ann Arbor’s streets were lined with trees, glorious in spring, luxuriant in summer, resplendent in fall, and stately in winter. Trees beautiful trees, Ann’s arbor.

Sally threw her bags into the hallway of the condo, and walked out the back door to her garage and faithful red mustang to head straight for the Bibliopole.

“Robert,” Sally yelled running up the bookstore steps. “You need a ride in Waterloo.”

He was standing next to his desk. Robert’s face was a little pale. Sally’s shouting might have frightened him.

“Grab a bottle.” Penny had returned, early. “This will be fun.”

Sally acknowledged her joy diminished a lot, but she kept up her end of the invitation. Soon Penny was settled in the backseat with her bottle of cream sherry; Robert was in the passenger seat, paper cup filled to the brim. Sally planned to hit every bump in the road.

Waterloo didn’t let them down. At the end of Pierce Road where the dirt road to the Geology Center started, they craned their necks hoping to find deer in the fields on the right side of the road while checking the trees crowding the left side of the road. The creek bed was dry at the second corner, and Sally gunned the engine to keep from being pulled into the washboard section. The trees along the sheltered roads of Waterloo retained most of their leaves and the colors were stupendous.

Robert talked nonstop while Penny broke into lyrics from Iolanthe. Sally was glad any bitterness resulting from Penny’s honing in on her planned excursion with Robert faded away with the sounds of the woods feeding her hearing aid through the half-opened window. At the
Mud Lake turn around, Sally stopped the car.

“Did I tell you I was a Big Sister to a nine year old in Harveyson, once?” Sally didn’t care if they were interested or not. “I brought her here to show her the sand hill crane nest. I told her this place was probably
unchanged
from when Indians roamed the land. I was all excited and asked her what she thought of the place. ‘Boring,’ the child said.”

“I hope you boxed her ears,” Robert said.

“No.” Sally could still taste her keen disappointment as if the scene had just occurred. “I immediately took her home.’

“How long did you stay in the Big Sister program?” Penny asked, in what Sally thought was an almost gracious tone.

“Well, her brothers kept telling her to ask for my camera, and to go shopping with her. At the time, I wasn’t sure if I could afford all the medical help Danny needed. I didn’t think I could or should spend money on her.”

“You’re not supposed to, are you?” Robert asked.

“No,” Sally said, “But I thought about it.”

“Did you just leave her hanging?” Penny asked.

Sally looked at Penny as she poured Robert another, unneeded portion of cream sherry. She was awfully cute and even David in the Bible was allowed to keep young virgins in his bed to warm his bones. “I went to the agency and told them my problem. They said they would find someone else for her.”

“What about the detectives you’re going to hire for
Arizona?” Penny asked. Was she trying to be purposefully irritable?

“I’m going to let a high-school friend of mine from
Illinois interview people before I send anyone down there,” Sally said. She prayed John Nelson would help. He seemed to like her. Hopefully she was not imposing on his good nature.

“I could talk to them,” Penny said.

“Let Sally handle this,” Robert said as he climbed back into the car. “Let’s visit my parents’ grave on the hill and then drive around the pond in Waterloo.”

“Do we have time to go out to the bird sanctuary?” Sally asked.

“Better not,” Robert said. “Andrew said he would come by the shop at 6:30. Do you want to join us for Chinese?”

“I’d like that,” Sally said. “Andrew can probably point me in the right direction for a detective agency.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The Peking duck was delicious and the other dishes of spiced Chinese food kept coming until Sally thought she would burst with one more bite. Harvey, Ed, and Sally accompanied Andrew, Robert and Penny to the second-floor restaurant. Sally hoped
Harvey would pick up the bill, but knew she would herself, if he were too much in his cups to attend to such mundane amenities.

Andrew had been busy watching traffic cameras from I94 down route 23 for signs of Mary Jo. Since the crime had not crossed state borders, his office was not allowed to pursue the matter farther than the state line. “She picked up a kid at one point.”

“A hitchhiker?” Penny asked.

“Could have been a convict,” Robert said.

“Looked innocent enough,” Andrew said. “About fifteen, really.”

“Mary Jo did have a soft heart,” Robert said, then corrected himself, “does have a warm heart.”

“The cops caught him with a suitcase that was Mary Jo’s,” Andrew said.

They all stopped eating. “Did he harm her?” Ed Thatch asked.

“Says he had lunch with her at Cabella’s. She didn’t notice when he disappeared for a trip to the bathroom. He poked the lock out of the back of her van and snatched her suitcase for his next ride out of town.” Andrew poured himself more tea.

“Slimy creep,” Robert said. “What could he do with her personal belongings?”

“Maybe he was a cross dresser,” Harvey supplied.

“She had jewelry in the case,” Andrew said. “But there were no police reports of robbery in the state from her.”

“Maybe Mary Jo didn’t realize the suitcase was missing until she stopped for the night,” Sally said.

“She was probably too afraid of her husband tracking her to let the police know where she was,” Ed worried his beard.

“I agree.” Sally smiled at her young table partner, Ed. She always sat as close to him as possible. She even dreamt about him. Anyway, Sally was glad Ed was at the restaurant. She found herself smiling and she did not think it was just to hide her wrinkles. The boy’s good looks cheered her up.

Ed coughed, “Are you missing the fact Mary Jo was alive, so Robert cannot be accused of killing her?”

Harvey finished another martini. “Still missing isn’t she?”

Andrew explained, “The highway pictures were dated three days before Ricco made his accusations. The case has not yet been dropped.”

“We need Arizona,” Robert said, offering Sally a bowl of rice from across the table.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

John sounded sleepy when Sally called him. “John, I’m sorry. This is Sally. It’s one o’clock in St. Charles. I just left Robert and the gang. Are you very busy this week at the hotel? Could you take a vacation with me to Arizona?”

John’s voice changed to wide awake. “Sally! Absolutely. I mean I’ll drive out tomorrow morning. Main Street in Ann Arbor, right? Why Arizona?”

“Mary Jo’s van was spotted near Phoenix. You really want to come?”

“I can’t think of a better place to be than around you.”

Sally heard that. “John. I mean I don’t want to encourage you romantically. I don’t want to discourage you either, but your good company on the trip might not…you know…end the way you want it to.”

“Sally, really. I can’t think of any where I’d rather be than with you. I missed my chance in high school. I’m glad you called. You’re not going to revoke the offer, are you?”

“No. I could really use your help.” But Sally did worry. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Just let the Lord and me worry about my feelings, okay?”

“Okay.” Sally laughed. “It’s in His hands.” After she hung up the bedside phone, Sally couldn’t sleep. Maybe she should start her own detective agency. She was enjoying herself. Terrible because Robert’s mess might turn out well for her, give her a new career, besides following the exploits of her favorite bookman. Danny would have wanted her to do something constructive with her life. No one could ever replace Danny.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Third Tuesday in September

All thoughts in the Bibliopole were with Mary Jo. Why hadn’t she at least called Robert? Sally found Robert alone Tuesday evening, staring at his silent phone. “Is Penny upset about Mrs. Clankton’s report?” She hoped to keep his mind occupied.

He pulled his attention away from the unresponsive contraption he wanted to ring before facing eternity. “If Mary Jo kept her clothes on, it might have helped.”

“Why did she disrobe, Robert?” Sally relaxed in the comfortable chair across the room from his corner desk.

“She wanted to get comfortable under the blankets with me.” Robert fixed Sally with his honest stare. “Mrs. Clankton kicked me to the curb.”

“Where are you living, now? Mary Jo should have kept some article of clothing on.”

“She wanted to get lucky.” Robert slid his hand over the phone’s receiver. “Penny’s brother brought over a mattress for the store room. Miss Poi duly anointed the thing.”

Sally tried not to think about Robert’s housing downgrade. “You should have told Mary Jo, before she undressed.” The stinking mattress threatened to intrude on her thoughts.

“Well, I didn’t.” Robert softened his tone. “You were an exception.”

“I am,” Sally said, letting her ego puff.

Robert shot her down. “And you are a blabbermouth.”

“Penny wanted to know.”

“And you wanted to tell her.”

“Now, Robert.” Sally was saved by Harvey Clemmons bellowing in the hall.

“Thank God,” Robert said, as if Sally’s presence was becoming a trial. Miss Poi streaked from under the safety of Robert’s desk into the store room.

Sally felt like bolting, too. “I’ll just go along.” At least, Robert would not be alone. Conversation with his friends slowed Robert from exercising his elbow … drink to mouth.

Robert hefted a large dictionary in Sally’s direction. “You move and I’ll throw this at you.”

Sally laughed. “I’ll stay.”

“And she’s welcome.” Harvey rubbed Sally’s head with one hand and handed a bottle of sherry to Robert with the other. “At least, Sally doesn’t drink up the supplies.”

“True, true.” Robert actually cooed.

“Big bag of wind.” Sally straightened her short hair.

Harvey’s torso did resemble an opera singer’s girth. He paced between Robert’s desk and the hall as if awaiting someone. His head was regal, a Roman sculpture. His white beard and shaggy moustache were clipped in a classical poet’s style. But mostly, Harvey was wind and vocal cords produced loud, well-modulated words in resonating deep bass tones, which bounced off the shiny plaster bookshop walls. Sally remembered Voltaire’s work, or was it Shaw’s, in which the hero’s pride was injured when the heroine told him she didn’t agree or disagree with his diatribes, she just enjoyed hearing his voice. The low tones of males helped seduce their intendeds. Men complained about the lack of sex, and women, rightly, criticized the paucity of prolonged conversation, verbal foreplay.

“Is Andrew expected?” Harvey stepped back to wave Sam Tedler into their presence.

Sam, the young man who helped arrest Robert, stood in the hall. He wore jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt instead of the city’s uniform. He waited for an invitation to enter. Sally could understand his reluctance. “I might be able to help, Sally.” Sam said. “The police found Mary Jo’s blood in Robert’s room at Mrs. Clankton’s, too.”

“What service do you offer?” Robert asked in a defensive tone.

Sam ducked his head as he spoke. “I put in for my vacation. I could search for Mary Jo with my detective license.”

Harvey pounded Sam’s back. “The Tedler Brothers moonlight as certified PI’s.”

“We can’t afford much.” Sally needed to make the compensation problem clear. Why was there blood in Mary Jo and Robert’s rooms? She kept her questions to herself.

Sam brightened. “Harvey thought I should volunteer.”

“Mary Jo is traveling in
Arizona,” Robert said. “How do we know Ricco isn’t paying you to find her?”

“Me?” Sam walked over to Robert’s desk. “I didn’t want to arrest you, remember?”

“Come on, Robert,” Harvey said. “Would I bring a traitor into your inner sanctum?”

Sally interrupted. “I hope it’s okay, Robert. I gave John Nelson directions to your shop. I wanted you and Andrew to meet him before we leave for
Arizona tonight.”

“Unusual occurrence,” Harvey reached for his lowest disapproving tone. “Sam arrived just in time.”

Robert finished the sherry in his glass. “What makes you think Sam will have the motivation to save my hide?”

“And what is this John Nelson’s driving force?” Harvey asked.

“You know, Harvey, not everyone has your sordid inclinations.” Sally wanted to strike him up the side of his beautiful head. “A person is allowed to go out of his way to help an old friend.”

Undaunted, Harvey hooted. “You’re not that old.”

Sally opened and closed her purse as if digging for a new subject. “Robert, doesn’t Hilda live next to Mrs. Clankton. Surely you could stay with them until you find another place.”