Fatal Debt Page 13

  “So, how was your day?” Mom asked as we sat down to eat.

  I didn’t want to tell her about the funeral so I went with my tamest story of the day.

  “One of my customer’s house burned down,” I said.

  “Oh, dear,” Mom said. “Was anybody hurt?”

  “No one was home,” I said.

  “That fire out in Webster?” Dad asked. “Saw it in the newspaper. Didn’t know you had such shady customers.”

  Mom looked slightly alarmed. “What do you mean?”

  “The fire’s being called suspicious,” Dad said. “The arson investigators are crawling all over it.”

  “No kidding,” I said. Odd that Belinda hadn’t mentioned that little bit of info when she called Manny today.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Mom said.

  I sensed her maybe-you-should-move-back-home speech coming so I distracted her.

  “I need boots for my Halloween costume,” I said. “Want to come shopping with me, Mom?”

  “Tonight?” She shook her head. “I’ve got the Ladies Auxiliary meeting at church.”

  We cleared the table, and Mom and I did the dishes while Dad sat in front of the television.

  “Have you found out what Dad’s big plan is for the weekend?” I asked.

  “We’re going to a party,” Mom announced.

  This, I hadn’t expected.

  “Dad knows somebody who’s having a party?” I asked.

  Whenever I heard Dad together with his friends, they discussed things like radial tires and lawn fertilizer. My dad did not run with the party crowd.

  “A party?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mom said. “It should be fun.”

  “Well, okay,” I said. “You’ll need a costume. Why don’t you and I—”

  “It’s not a costume party,” Mom said.

  “It’s Halloween weekend,” I said. “Everybody will be wearing a costume.”

  “This isn’t the sort of party you and your friends go to,” Mom said. “No costumes. I had your dad check twice.”

  “Well, okay, if you’re sure,” I said. “Do you know anybody else who’s going?”

  “No, but your dad does,” Mom said. “That’s the nicest part. We can make new friends.”

  “Then we should at least get you something new to wear,” I said.

  Mom shook her head. “Not necessary. I have dozens of dresses in my closet.”

  “But don’t you want something new?” I asked.

  “No, no. I have a favorite dress I want to wear,” Mom said. “I should take a hostess gift. I think a mum plant would do nicely.”

  It wasn’t my idea of a great evening, but Mom was excited and that was good enough for me.

  “A mum plant sounds perfect,” I said.

  After we finished with the kitchen I phoned Jillian. She was up for a trip to the mall. I picked her up and we hit the stores. She didn’t really need anything but that didn’t stop her from buying a terrific pair of jeans and two T-shirts.

  By the time we got to the third shoe store and I hadn’t found the kind of boots I wanted for my pirate costume, I was ready to call it a night. Then Jillian’s shoe-sale alarm went off.

  “Oh, my God. Look!” She pointed across the mall like one of those hunting dogs. “There they are!”

  I followed her to the shop window and peered at the boots she was salivating over.

  “You’ve got to try them on, Dana,” Jillian declared, and pulled me into the store.

  The clerk seemed to think the boots—thigh-high, black leather with four-inch heels—were a great idea too, as he watched me pull them on. I walked to the mirror.

  “I look like a hooker,” I said.

  “Slightly slutty,” Jillian said. “They’re perfect for your costume.”

  I looked at the end of the box and said, “These things cost a fortune.”

  “This is Felderman’s party we’re going to, Dana,” Jillian said. “Everybody will be there. You have to get these boots.”

  That was a good enough reason for me. I whipped out my Visa and signed away just over a hundred bucks.

  I knew that was a lot of money to spend on boots for a Halloween costume, but in a few years I’d be showing up at parties with mum plants. I decided I should live large while I could.

  By the time I dropped Jillian off at her place, I was ready to fall into bed. I drove home, parked, wrestled the big box of boots out of my trunk and headed for my apartment.

  A man stepped out of the shadows. I screamed, threw the boot box at him, and ran.

  My heart pounded as I raced for my car. My pepper spray! My phone! Oh, God, why hadn’t I looked around before I left my car? Where were my keys?

  “Dana! Hold up!”

  A man appeared alongside me. It was Nick, my boot box tucked under his arm.

  I stopped, panting. “You scared ten years off of my life!”

  “I came by to see if you were all right,” he said.

  Annoyed, I yanked the box away from him.

  “What have you got in there?” Nick asked.

  I took a couple of deep breaths. “They’re for my Halloween costume.”

  He lifted the lid from the box.

  “Not going as the French maid this year, I see. Or are you?” He grinned, then looked serious. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”

  His apology and that grin of his tapped off most of my anger.

  “Just don’t sneak up on me again,” I said. “I’m kind of punchy these days.”

  He nodded toward my apartment building. “I left you something outside your door. Something chocolate.”

  Nick knew me way too well now. That should have bothered me, but didn’t.

  “Want to come up? I asked.

  Nick glanced at his wristwatch, and I saw that he looked tired, maybe a little frazzled. His collar stood open, his tie pulled loose.

  I guess I wasn’t the only one who could have a bad day.

  “I’ve got beer in the fridge,” I offered.

  He hesitated a few seconds, then nodded. “I have something to tell you.”

  He took my boot box and we walked upstairs together. Outside my door I found a quart of chocolate fudge ice cream in an insulated bag.

  Seven Eleven came running when we walked inside and I flipped on the lights. She rubbed her head against my leg while I dumped food into her bowl.

  When I turned I saw Nick holding up one of my new boots and looking at my legs.

  “If this isn’t part of a French maid costume,” he said, “it would be a crime.”

  He grinned and my stomach quivered. I distracted myself by getting Nick a beer from the fridg. I considered taking one for myself, but decided I’d better go with the chocolate fudge ice cream.

  Nick took off his sport coat and shoulder holster, and dropped into a chair at my kitchen table. I got a spoon, pried off the lid of the ice cream container, and sat down.

  “Rough day?” I asked.

  He tipped up his beer. “A double murder in Jackson Park.”

  I cringed. “That’s rough, all right.”

  “A couple of gang bangers. We have a suspect. Recovered a small arsenal of weapons.” Nick managed a small smile. “Sometimes we get lucky.”

  “I don’t suppose this was connected to Mr. Sullivan’s murder?” I asked.

  “No connection,” he said. “I checked out your Gerald Mayhew. You’re right. He wasn’t at work the night of the murder.”

  “Where was he?” I asked.

  “We haven’t found him yet to ask him,” Nick said.

  Somebody else was missing, in addition to Leonard Sullivan?

  “You don’t think Mayhew’s dead, do you?” I asked.

  He looked puzzled. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I’ve got death on the brain lately, l guess,” I said.

  We were quiet for a few minutes while Nick drank his beer, I ate ice cream, and Seven Eleven crunched her dry f
ood. Finally, Nick set his bottle aside.

  “You were friends with Katie Jo back in high school, weren’t you?” he asked.

  My gaze bobbed from my ice cream bowl to Nick’s face. He’d caught me off guard with that question.

  “Katie Jo was my best friend,” I said.

  Nick grinned. “You were a hell-raiser back then.”

  “I was not,” I insisted. “I was a nice girl.”

  “I remember,” he told me. “You didn’t take crap from anybody.”

  “Well, okay, maybe my people skills weren’t the best,” I said. “But I’ve improved since then.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow.

  “I have,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Dana. Don’t apologize for it.”

  Nick Travis was so darned handsome. He made my heart pump a little faster and my stomach feel gooey. There were definitely signs of something between us—something I didn’t want to put a name to, something I didn’t dare act on with Katie Jo in our mutual history.

  “Why are you bringing up Katie Jo?” I asked.

  He looked at me for a long while, then pulled on the back of his neck.

  “Did she tell you about … what happened?” he asked.

  “You mean about how you got her pregnant, made her have an abortion, then dumped her and left town?” I asked.

  Nick just stared at me as if he were hurt, or disappointed. Or maybe embarrassed.

  “Is that what you think happened?” he asked.

  “Is there something else I should know?” I countered.

  Nick paused for a moment, then drained his beer and put on his gun and jacket.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said.

  I followed him to the door and he stood in the hallway looking at me as if there were something he wanted to ask, something he wanted to say. Or, maybe, something he wanted me to say.

  Finally, he left.

  I closed the door, threw the security bolt and forced myself not to look out the peephole. I had a sinking feeling I’d missed something just now.

  Darn my poor people skills. If I’d known what to say, I might have drawn Nick out. I might have gotten him to tell me whatever it was he’d seemed to want to say to me.

  Maybe he would have told me he was sorry for what he’d done to Katie Jo, and that big wedge between us would have vanished.

  Or maybe he would have said that he wasn’t sorry, and that big wedge would have dug in deeper.

  Or maybe he would have told me the rumors were wrong. He wasn’t the one responsible for what happened to Katie Jo.

  Or maybe I could run down to the parking lot right now and tell him that the whole thing happened a long time ago, we’d both changed, and I’d just forget about it.

  Except I couldn’t forget about it.

  I scooped up Seven Eleven, turned off the lights and went to bed.

  Chapter 16

  Sitting at my desk the next morning, flipping through the payments Carmen had just brought back from the post office, I knew my day was going to be great. Lots of customers had paid, even several whom I knew had been having really bad financial difficulties. Good to know things had turned around for them.

  Then, things turned around for me.

  “Dana,” Manny called from his desk.

  I glanced over and saw him scowling at his computer. Not a good sign. I definitely did not want to go check out another house that might get foreclosed on.

  “Dana?” Carmen called from the front of the office. “You have a call on line two. It’s Jarrod Parker.”

  Oh, so early on a Wednesday morning to be caught between two evils—getting assigned a crappy duty from my boss, or talking to an idiot.

  Still, my choice was easy.

  I grabbed the phone. “What do you want, Jarrod?” I asked.

  “Hello, Dana,” he said, oblivious to my ill-mannered greeting. “How’re you doing?”

  He had that little tone in his voice. What was with this guy? It made me all the more suspicious of him.

  “I was wondering, Dana,” he said, “how long after I pay off that account can I pick up my car?”

  “You’ve got the cash to pay it off?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah … sort of.”

  I knew what that really meant.

  “I’ll release the car as soon as you pay off your account,” I told him.

  “That’s cool,” he said. “Look, I’m coming over that way today. Want to have lunch, or something?”

  If I’d had any sort of appetite before, it was gone now.

  “All I want from you is your account paid off,” I said.

  “Okay, so, what time should I pick you up?” Jarrod asked.

  “Never!” I gripped the phone tighter and pulled in a deep breath. “Just pay off your account, Jarrod. That’s all I want from you.”

  “I’ll be there as quick as I can,” he promised.

  “Fine,” I said, and hung up.

  As badly as I wanted Jarrod Parker’s account to be paid off and disappear from my life forever, I considered it might be worth it to just sell his car and be rid of him once and for all.

  I came to my senses when Manny called my name again. I plopped down in the chair beside his desk.

  “What’s the story with the Parker repo?” he asked. “I’ve got a meeting with the DM today. What should I tell him?”

  The District Manager wouldn’t be interested in hearing what a jerk Jarrod Parker was, so I had to come up with something that would keep him happy for a while.

  “He’ll redeem his car by the end of the week,” I said, and knew I was being a little more than slightly optimistic.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Manny said.

  I went back to my desk and spent the morning trying to accomplish tasks that Mid-America was paying me for. At noon, I ate the sandwich I’d brought with me, then left the office.

  Yesterday at the funeral I’d promised Leona Wiley I’d come by her house and drive her somewhere—the grocery store, probably—so I headed to Devon. When I cruised past the Sullivan house I noticed the crime scene tape had disappeared and the makeshift shrine of candles and flowers out front was gone. Poof. Just like that. Evidence of the destroyed lives had disappeared. But maybe it was just as well. Maybe it was time to move on.

  I circled the block to Leona Wiley’s place, parked at the curb and knocked on the door. She opened it right away wearing a maroon dress and hat, which seemed an odd outfit for a trip to the grocery store, but okay.

  “You’re so sweet to do this, honey,” Leona said, stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door closed.

  I leaned around her, peering into the disappearing living room.

  “Is Mrs. Sullivan coming with us?” I asked.

  “Oh, no. I told her it would do her good, but she isn’t up to it yet,” Leona said, and shook her head. “Besides, she doesn’t really have the money to spend on something like this. Not yet, anyway. We’ll have to see how things go.”

  “Do you mean with her finances?” I asked.

  “Gladys is worried about how she’s going to make ends meet, now that Arthur is gone,” Leona said. “They didn’t have much, you know, just the house.”

  I remembered from the Sullivans’ loan application that they still had a mortgage on their home. They’d refinanced it several times over the years using the cash for home improvements, paying off other bills, and medical expenses. Their budget had been tight, even when Mr. Sullivan was alive and working his part-time job. I didn’t know how Gladys would make it now without help from somewhere.

  Leonard sprang into my mind. Where was he when his grandmother needed him?

  “She’ll probably sell the house,” Leona said. “I told her she could live here with me. It’s kind of lonely for me, since my Edgar passed three years ago. Gladys and I always get along. Some sisters don’t, but we do. Of course, I don’t know how she’ll find a buyer for her house. It needs so mu
ch work. The family can help her some, but you know how that goes.”

  More than ever, I wanted to do something to help Mrs. Sullivan. Surely there was more I could do than drive her sister to the grocery store.

  “Yoo-hoo,” Leona called, smiling and waving down the block.

  I saw three older black ladies coming toward us, all dressed up as Leona was, smiling and waving back. I recognized them from the funeral.

  “I know this may seem strange, us going out like this so soon after,” Leona said. “But the Lord’s made his decision and taken Arthur. We need to move on.”

  I followed Leona down the sidewalk where we met the other ladies, and introductions were made.

  “Dana’s going to drive us today,” Leona said, then turned to me. “Leonard used to drive us.”

  Dora looked closer at me. “You were at the funeral yesterday, weren’t you? With Slade. Lordy, that was one good looking man.”

  The other women crooned their agreement.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Helen asked.

  “No,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

  “Good,” Helen declared, “because I’m going to fix him up with my granddaughter.”

  “Your granddaughter?” Dora asked. She shook her head. “I’d rather keep him for myself.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Ruby told them. “He gave me his cell phone number.”

  All the ladies laughed.

  “Bless your heart for driving today,” Dora said to me. “We need to get there. I’m feeling hot.”

  “Dora’s got a system,” Ruby explained.

  “Dora’s got no system,” Helen insisted. “She’s talking like she’s got a system, but all she’s got is luck. Plain, ordinary luck.”

  “Her mojo is working,” Helen declared. “I always stand next to her. It rubs off.”

  “Where, exactly, are we going?” I asked.

  “To bingo,” Dora said. “Wednesdays. That’s our bingo day.”

  “The four of us, plus Gladys,” Ruby said. “And Ida Mayhew, except she isn’t coming today.”

  Dora lowered her voice. “Ida is … taking care of some business.”

  It flashed in my mind that something had happened to Ida. Hadn’t Nick told me that Gerald Mayhew was nowhere to be found? Had he done something to Ida, and disappeared?