Under Abnormal Conditions (18 page)

The shooter had to have taken it. I didn’t
waste any more time thinking about what that might have meant. I
quietly navigated my way outside.

I closed the door behind me and wiped the
handle clean. I knew my fingerprints were gone, but it also took
away the ones from the real killer.

The streets were barren and silent. I flipped
up the collar on my coat and hurried to the car. I made it without
incident, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. I
looked around, but there was no one in sight, that only meant one
of two things. Either there was no one around or whoever was
watching me wouldn’t allow themselves to be seen.

Sitting there wasn’t helping anyone. I wanted
to call someone for the dead body inside, but as Sharon said
earlier of Sherry, he’s dead now and there’s nothing that can be
done about it.

Why of all nights for me to try and play
detective, I chose that one? Maybe it was chosen for me.

As I drove home, I knew Phil knew more than
he had let on, at least to me anyway. I wondered how the police
would react if they knew he had been sleeping with the married
victim.

Married.

What about the man she was married to? The
more I thought about it, that file only served to concrete my
suspicions about James. If he knew about the affair then he would
have to be the prime suspect. Had he killed the detective to cover
his crime?

Sherry’s murder was not something that just
happened in the heat of the moment. It was too well planned. It was
obvious to the police the robbery wasn’t the real motive. That was
crystal clear to me as well.

What would I tell Sara about what I had
found? I wouldn’t tell her anything. I couldn’t. Even though I knew
I didn’t pull the trigger, in some way I felt responsible for
Sherry’s death.

The traffic was sparse on that cool night,
and it was only a few miles back to my house. It had been a long
day, and I wore my tiredness like an old suit of clothes.

It was force of habit that made me look into
the Cool Breeze parking lot, as I was about to pass it. Newspapers
and other trash blew across the deserted lot like sagebrush in a
ghost town. Otherwise the lot was practically empty, empty except
for an emerald green colored late model Corvette.

Against my better judgment I drove into the
lot and stopped at the very front. My headlights reflected off of
the crime scene tape that still guarded the door. I knew better
than to go any farther, so I backed my car next to his.

What in the hell was he doing out that late,
and why was he at the club? I knew what was happening but I didn’t
have the evidence to prove it. Maybe the whole ordeal was a setup
from the beginning, I thought to myself.

I got out of my car and walked over towards
his. The light from the street lamps bounced off the shiny green
paint. The car was empty and his brief case sat on the passenger
side seat.

I was interested in seeing just what was in
that briefcase, but when I tried the door, it was locked. The
passenger side door was locked as well.

I got back into my car and drove around to
the back of the club. It was dark and inviting, but I grew more and
more curious to see where my former boss was.

The black silence provoked every fear I had.
I parked so the lights from my car shined on the back door. The
wind cut right through the light coat I wore and the air still
smelled of trash.

I quickly walked the incline that led to the
back door. Next to the walkway was about fifty yards of high grass
before the woods took over. I would have sworn I heard something
rustling in the grass.

My paranoia was getting the better of me. I
felt like I had an enemy around every corner. Then I actually saw
the grass move. The rustling got louder. I made it to the door, but
it was locked. The rustling grew louder and louder. I turned but
all I could see was the grass flowing towards me. My hands formed
fists, and I was ready for whatever fate had awaited me.

Suddenly, the grass broke open with a loud
crash. Out bounded a huge raccoon. I felt silly, but happy that was
all it was. He foraged through the trash and dined on open bags of
misdelivered dog food left by the dumpster.

I kept my distance from him and drove back
around to the front and waited for the better part of an hour and
still no Phil. I took a pen from my dash and I wrote a quick
letter.

“Phil, I know what’s going on. We need to
talk. Michael”

I stuck the note under his windshield wiper
and sped away. It was probably a stupid move, but I wanted him to
know I knew what was going on.

The police would laugh in my face with the
little evidence I had. Maybe it was just a coincidence he was out
late tonight. For, at 3:00 a.m., Phil may have a perfectly good
reason for being at the club where his lover was murdered.

At least it would get him off my back. He
wouldn’t be so ready to blame me if he knew the information I had
could hurt him more than myself in the long run. He was a smart
man, and he definitely knew how to play the odds.

As I turned into my driveway, I had to stop
short. There was a black mustang in my spot. I maneuvered my car
around it and got out with my fist clenched again, looking for a
fight. Nothing happened.

I walked up to the dark car and peered
through its heavily tinted windows. The only thing I could tell was
it was a lady. I knocked on the window and woke up my sleeping
visitor.

It was Carmen.

She rolled down the window and said, “My
roommate got sick, and I had to stay with her. I just wanted to let
you know I was sorry. I guess I just fell asleep while I was
waiting.”

“How did you find my house?”

“I looked you up in the phonebook. I was
driving back to Hammond, so I thought I would try to catch you at
home. I hope that’s OK.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” I said quickly to hide my
paranoia. “I’m sorry. It has been a very long day.” A cool breeze
made me think of my jacket I had left in my car. “It’s cool out
here. Would do like to come inside and warm up?”

“It’s so late. Are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s no problem. At least come in for
coffee.”

She agreed and helped me bring my groceries
inside. Ricky’s car was gone, but that didn’t mean much. I had been
burned by him so many times before nothing would have surprised
me.

I ignored the message light that blinked
feverishly on the table next to the telephone. I took her coat, and
she made herself at home. We sat at the kitchen table and seemed to
talk about everything except our school assignments.

Her full name was Carmen Marie Woods, and she
was majoring in social work. She was in her last year, and our
psychology course was an elective she needed to finish.

The time seemed to fly as I told her of my
situation. I showed her a few of Regina’s pictures that were in my
wallet, and she showed off a few of her nieces and nephews.

After plenty of coffee and good conversation,
I felt like I was in one of those sugary sweet coffee
commercials.

Carmen was a temporary, albeit nice, escape
from everything that was going on. As she talked, I couldn’t
retreat from the thought of that dead man’s eyes.

“Are you listening to me?” she eventually
asked.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“OK, then what did I just say?”

“You were saying how good a time you were
having.” I guessed.

“That’s pretty good. Do you do card tricks
too?”

I was sure she was humoring me. I really did
enjoy her company. After what I had seen that night, I didn’t want
to be alone. The way that I felt, I thought I might never close my
eyes and rest comfortably again.

Out of nowhere she asked, “So can I have a
tour of the house?”

I agreed and began showing her around. I told
her how I converted the house after my grandparents passed away.
Every room had a story, and I tried to tell her each one.
Surprisingly, she hung on to my every word.

“My cousin was using this room until earlier
today.” I explained.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“I really don’t know. He was just passing
through.”

“You know what?” she asked

“What?”

“The first time I saw you, I was a little
afraid. You are a little bit intimidating. When I saw you in the
library, I thought it would be a good time to break the ice.”

“You’re not afraid now?”

She laughed out loud.

“No. You’re just a big teddy bear.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Oh yes. You walk around with those big
shoulders and that ‘stay the hell away from me’ look. You try to
hide it, but I can see it in you.

She read me better than anyone else with the
exception of Trey. I had to admit she was slowly starting to take
my mind away from my problems I had been carrying.

“What makes you have that need to help
people?” she asked.

“Are you sure you’re not a psychology major?”
I asked jokingly.

“No. I’m just good at reading people. Now
answer my question.”

“I don’t know. Ever since I can remember,
that’s the way I’ve been. Maybe it was because I got picked on so
much as a kid. I don’t want other people to feel that way.”

“Why were you picked on?”

“I was always the fat kid growing up. I
didn’t really grow out of it until high school when I started
playing football.”

“The football star, huh?”

“No, it was nothing like that. I came out of
my shell a little bit, but by that time I was pegged the ‘nice guy’
and when you’re in high school that was a curse like the
plague.”

We both laughed, and she said, “You know
there are worse things for you to be than a nice guy.”

It was just the boost my ego needed. The more
we talked, the more interested she became and the less I thought
about the horrors of the past few hours.

She made me realize other truths in my life I
had been trying to avoid. In always trying to take care of others,
I never realized how much I had neglected myself.

I found it sad that it was someone,
practically a stranger, to bring that out of me. The last room on
the tour was my bedroom. In my rush to leave the house that
morning, I left my room in a mess.

She walked in and rested herself on my
bed.

As she gingerly stroked her chin she said,
“I’ll bet you were the kind of guy that had tons of female friends,
right?”

“That’s true,” I said shyly. “The only women
that were ever attracted to me ended up having mental problems, and
I had to rescue them. I fell into that trap so many times.”

“Do you think I have mental problems?” she
asked.

“Well, no I . . .”

“You know, this would be a nice place, if you
had someone to tidy up,” she said to rescue me from the moment.

“Are you volunteering?” I asked seductively,
hoping to jump right back in.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but maybe we can
work something out,” she replied. “I’m so tired right now I
wouldn’t be much good at anything,” she said walking back towards
the kitchen.

Seeing her sashay away made me think of
plenty of things she would probably be very good at.

“It is late. Why don’t you spend the night?”
Before she could interrupt I said, “I know what you are going to
say, and you can have the spare room.”

She just smiled and walked over to the
pantry. She fumbled around for a second or two and said, “I’ll get
the wine, and meet you in the living room, and we can discuss
it.”

“I don’t think there’s any wine in there.” I
said as I walked to her side. To my surprise, she pulled out a
bottle of red wine.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Oh no, I guess I forgot it was in there.” I
smiled and walked to the living room. I hoped that bottle meant
Ricky was trying to leave at least one of his habits behind.

Even before I sat down I began feeling
guilty. I had forgotten about Sara. I knew she was alone. What if
she needed me? I had been out all night, and I didn’t even check
the answering machine. I stood and walked over to the telephone. As
much as I wanted to be there for her, maybe she didn’t need me
after all.

I tried to relax on the sofa and think of
Carmen, but my heart was somewhere else. Sara was so proud. Even if
she were dying, she wouldn’t call.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the
telephone. There was no way I could call before Carmen came back, I
thought. The phone pleaded for me to call, but just as I was about
to reach for it, Carmen walked in.

Surprised, she asked, “And just what are you
doing?”

Startled, I answered, “I thought I would call
the radio station and request a song.” It was a lie, but it was a
quick and painless excuse. I just hoped she would buy it.

“How sweet,” she said handing me my glass. “I
have really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”

“I’ve enjoyed it too.” After a sip of liquid
courage, I moved my body closer to hers, and I looked deep into her
soft soulful eyes.

“I need to ask you a question,” I said.

She looked almost hurt.

“What?” she asked.

“You are probably the most beautiful woman I
have ever seen.”

She blushed and looked away.

“So why are you here with me?”

She answered me with a long, slow, seductive
kiss. When she released her embrace, she gazed into my eyes and
asked, “Where’s the phone book?”

“What phone book?” I asked breathlessly.

“You were calling the radio station, right?
Do you have the number memorized?”

I was caught in a lie, but I didn’t care. I
gave her my best schoolboy grin and returned her kiss. She felt so
good in my arms. It was so good I didn’t want to let go.

It was such a chore to always be the rock for
everyone else to lean on. It was time to take care of myself. Even
more than I needed to solve the crime, I needed the escape she
could give me. Even if it was only for one night, I needed to get
away.