Strange Robby (7 page)

Tommy was shocked. Fifteen years he'd known this woman, and he hadn't known any of that. He'd never even thought to ask about her name; it was just her name.

"Carrie," Spider said, looking at Carrie and obviously wanting to change the subject. "That's Celtic isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. It means . . . "

"Dark one," Spider said.

"Yes," Carrie said with surprise and slightly raised eyebrows. "How did you . . . "

"She reads too much," Tommy answered.

Carrie looked across the truck at Spider. She was taking her back to the courthouse and Carrie's car.

"Dinner was good," Carrie said conversationally. "I like Italian food."

"Bartelo's is my favorite restaurant."

"So Laura said," Carrie said with a smile. With Spider's attention on the road she gave her a good looking over without fear of being caught. Externally she couldn't find one thing she didn't like. The woman's hands were freakishly large, but she didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing, not if she knew how to use them—and Carrie had a feeling she did. But there was no doubt that Spider Webb was trouble, a person carrying baggage filled with secrets. Carrie had a suspicion that there were things you'd never know about Spider Webb, no matter how intimate you became. Of course all these things that should have been ringing all her warning bells only made Carrie want Spider that much more.

Carrie had long ago accepted that she was a decidedly unhealthy girl.

She could tell Spider was attracted to her, too. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her the way Spider Webb had tonight, with something more than just lust. Carrie was having those "this might actually be something" feelings which were usually nonexistent on a first date.

Involuntarily she started thinking about all the things she could do to Spider. All of the things she wanted her to do to her.
I wish she wasn't hell-bent on taking me back to my car. I know it's too soon, but I really want to be with her. The last thing I want to do tonight is go back to my empty house and an empty bed. I wish she'd pull this car over, and . . .

Suddenly Spider flipped a big U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back the other way. Carrie expected her to pop a light on the roof and activate a siren, but she obviously wasn't in pursuit of anyone.

"What the hell?"

Spider swallowed. "Want to go to my place?" she asked nervously.

"Ah . . . what?"
My god! I sound like a fucking idiot
. "I'd love to."

Carrie looked at the clock. It was one in the morning. She had an early court date and no change of clothes, and she just didn't give a damn. She lay more on Spider than beside her, enjoying the feel of Spider's hands where they caressed her back.

"Can I stay?" she asked, surprised to find that she suddenly felt shy.

"Yes." They kissed again. This time gently, lovingly.

Spider turned out the light, and Carrie moved to wrap herself around her. She couldn't bear to let her go.
How can I feel like this? I hardly know this woman, yet she knows me, what I want, what I need. Please God don't let me be reading her wrong, don't let this be a one way thing.

"You can stay as long as you like," Spider whispered.

 
"Better is a poor and wise child than an old and foolish
king, who no longer knows how to take care of himself."
Ecclesiastes 4:13

 

Carrie skidded in to work twenty minutes late. Her hair was a mess, she was wearing the same clothes she had worn the night before, she was hurried and hustled, and grinning from ear to ear.

Laura laughed at the sight of her. "Someone got lucky."

Carrie waved her in and motioned for her to shut the door.

"My God, Laura!" Carrie sat down at her desk, and started digging through her purse looking for her comb and primping necessities. "It was amazing! Like nothing I've ever had before." If it was possible, an even more stupid grin came across her face. "And now I will say something that's going to make me sound like an utter lunatic, so you have to forget I ever said it. I know it's crazy, because I don't really even know her, but . . . I think I'm in love with that woman. It's such a lesbian cliché, to go out on one date and start saying you've met your soul mate, but I've never done it till now, I swear."

Carrie worked on making herself look presentable, and succeeded to a degree that made Laura want to hate her.

"I think that's great," Laura said. She couldn't wait to tell Tommy. He'd kept her up half the night, bitching at her for dragging him into that shit. Complaining that his poor partner had looked like a deer caught in headlights. Tommy had refused to back down even when she had reminded him that they had left together and no one was holding a gun to anyone's head. She couldn't wait to tell him that she was right and he had been wrong.

Carrie stood up, took off her suit jacket, and straightened out her shirt. Then she rolled her skirt so that it was at least two inches shorter. "So, does it look like a different outfit?"

Laura nodded in appreciation. "You do this a lot?"

Carrie smiled. "Never for such a good reason."

"Tommy's a little bent over the whole thing. He knew Spider was gay, but he didn't know, if you know what I mean. Now he's afraid they'll have to have a conversation which gets beyond 'Uh huh' and 'want another beer'."

Carrie laughed. "I don't think he needs to worry about it. If she hasn't talked to him about it before, it's not likely that she's going to start now. Well . . . I'd love to talk for hours and hours, but I'm late already. So bring me the McGillicutty files and lots and lots of coffee."

Tommy didn't know why he let her drive. It was almost better when she was depressed and sleep deprived. She zipped in and out of traffic, humming tunelessly until finally he couldn't stand it anymore.

"OK! All right already," Tommy said, throwing up his hands. "So did you do the DA?"

"Assistant DA," Spider grinned wildly, and Tommy growled back, so she answered his question. "Many, many times. Then I slept, really slept, for the first time in weeks. Then I woke up and we did it again."

"So the 'my life sucks, it's always sucked, and it's always going to suck' of yesterday is now behind us?"

"Right now they could drop a bomb on the hood of this car, and I'd say look at all the pretty colors."

Tommy laughed, shook his head, and changed the subject. "So, have you given up your teacher, fire starter, family man theory?"

"Nope, that was not merely a delusional thing caused by my depression."

Their comlinks buzzed and a message came through from central. This time the body was in an alley again.

Barney Jones had not been a nice man. He'd been busted three times for selling narcotics to minors. Just six months ago they'd had to watch him squirrel his way out of a murder rap. The victim had been a sixteen-year-old girl that he'd gotten drunk. He'd been screwing her when she'd died of alcohol poisoning, and from the coroner's reports he hadn't stopped screwing her even then. Her genitals were all but mutilated by his constant pounding. They should have taken him out and hung him from his dick. Somehow he weaseled his way out of the murder rap and they convicted him of statutory rape, for which he had served a whole six months. Then the courts put him right back on the streets again. But he hadn't been out long when the Angel of Death had swooped down and microwaved his brain.

The coroner pulled back the sheet for Spider and Tommy.

"Ding dong the wicked witch is gone," Spider muttered, laughing a little. Even Tommy couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

"You know him?" the coroner asked.

"Barney Jones. A real low life, and a candidate for the hit parade," Tommy said and explained about the young woman whose life had been ended by him.

Spider was talking to the bartender. " . . . Strange Robby was here. He's the guy that picks up our weird trash. You know, the stuff the garbage guys won't take. He may have been out here when this happened."

"Why do they call him Strange Robby?" she asked curiously.

The bartender shrugged. "I don't know, they just do."

"Do you know where he lives?" Spider asked.

"Better than that; I got his card."

Spider followed the guy into the bar. It was a real dive. The people inside looked more like caricatures of scum than real people. The guy handed her the card, and she took it wishing she'd left her latex gloves on. One look at the card told her why they called him Strange Robby; the guy's real name was Robert Strange.

Spider was already in the driver's seat, so that meant Tommy had to ride shotgun again. Tommy slid into the car and closed the door. "Poor Barney Jones, couldn't happen to a nicer guy." He laughed. "I love this Fry Guy, Spider."

Spider nodded. "We got a potential witness. I figure if we talk to him we can maybe keep the Feds from doing it and finding something out."

Tommy nodded. "It may be wrong, but it sure feels right."

Robby was working in the shop, trying to fix an old refrigerator. Elvita and Duane played on the floor in front of him with some blocks he had made for them out of scraps from a construction site. He'd cut the wood into workable lengths, shaped some into cars and trucks and animals, and painted them with bright colors. No kids had ever enjoyed a set of Leggos any more than these two enjoyed their blocks. The skyscraper they were making looked wobbly at best.

When a deep but definitely female voice from the door asked, "Are you Robert Strange?" Robby jumped, and the blocks went crashing to the floor. The toddlers laughed, clapped their hands, and started construction all over again hardly taking notice of the new comers. After all, people were in and out of Robby's shop all the time.

Robby knew looking at them that they were police, and he swallowed hard. "I'm Robert, but most folks just call me Robby," he said wiping his hands on a shop rag as he scrambled to his feet. "How can I help you?"

"I'm detective Chan, this is detective Webb." They both showed their comlinks. "We're investigating a murder that took place behind Frank's Tavern. We were told you might have been out there at the time," Tommy said.

Robby was silent, watching the woman. She was watching the kids play. Then she looked at him. Looked him right in the eyes because they were exactly the same height. He saw
the blood and the trenches, heard her anguished cries as she watched in horror as those around her died. Exhausted, wounded, running through streets filled with fire and explosions and death fighting a war she didn't really understand for a freedom that didn't really ever trickle down to her. Saw her righteous anger so strong. Like his, and yet not
. She understood him. Hell, she
was
him, and as he was looking into her soul, she was looking into his. Even as his brown eyes were staring to her blue gray ones.

"Mr. Strange?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He looked away from her. "I didn't see anything," he told Tommy and shrugged. "I wasn't in the alley long. I got the trash and I left."

"Your kids?" the woman asked.

"No, my brother and sister. I take care of them. All of them, actually. There's seven all together," Robby said.

"That must be quite a job," the woman said.

"It keeps me out of trouble," Robby said with a smile. "I'm sorry I can't help."

The woman looked at him and smiled a big, friendly smile. "No problem. Thanks for your time."

Robby watched them go. That was it. They weren't going to ask him any more questions. He had thought someone was helping him, and now he was sure he knew who.

"What the hell was that all about?" Tommy asked.

"What?" Spider asked innocently.

"You bloody well know what! Back there, with the garbage man. I think he knew something, and you looked like you were fucking on another planet."

"Would if I could," Spider said with a smile. Then answered the puzzled look on her partner's face. "Fuck on another planet."

"Come on, Spider, you saw something. What the hell was it?"

"I didn't see shit," Spider said. "Just . . . well, didn't you ever meet someone that you felt you were destined to meet?"

Tommy thought about that and had to answer truthfully. "My old Jujitsu instructor, you, and Laura. But the black garbage man, Spider?"

She shrugged. "That's the way I felt; I think he felt it, too."

"What else, Spider? There was something else—something to do with the Fry Guy. What was it?"

"I think you're right. I think he does know more than he's letting on, and I think he's not talking for the same reason we're not."