Danger Comes Home (Kelly O'Connell Mystery) (10 page)

Not ten minutes later, the office door opened and Theresa walked in. Instead of her usual, composed, pretty, and happy self, today there was no smile and those wide eyes were puffy, her mascara smeared. Without a word, Keisha stood and held out her arms. Theresa walked into them, put her head on Keisha’s shoulder, and really sobbed, while Keisha patted and muttered soothing nothings. I stood there like Adam’s off ox—completely useless and feeling a bit awkward. At last, Theresa broke free and came to give me a hug.

“Miss Kelly, I don’t want to drip tears and mascara all over you.”

Holding tight to her I said, “Theresa, it doesn’t matter. Tell us what’s wrong.”

She sat in my visitor’s chair, and Keisha scooted her rolling chair over next to her.

“Joe…he’s gone to see Buck Conroy, because his old friends have lied about him. He told me days ago they threatened him…and me. That’s why he wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone—not to work, not to class. And then last night late, Buck Conroy called, told Joe it was in his best interest to come in and talk voluntarily. I’m not worried about myself, but I’m scared to death for Joe.”

“Theresa, I think we need to worry about you as well. You called in sick today?”

Theresa was the most conscientious of workers, and now she hung her head. “Yes, ma’am. I am sick…with worry.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Young lady, you need lunch. I know just the place…on College Avenue.”

I took them home, made soup and sandwiches, and poured small glasses of white wine to soothe frayed nerves. Theresa picked at her sandwich, and every few minutes she’d look at her cell phone, willing it to ring.

“Looking at it ain’t gonna make it ring faster, honey,” Keisha said gently. Then to me, “Boss lady, we need a plan.”

Sigh. “We need lots of plans these days. I don’t know where to begin. Let’s wait until we hear from Joe. Probably Conroy will talk to him and that’s all there will be to it. I know Mike believes in Joe.”

“Miss Kelly, we are so grateful to you and Mr. Mike…and to you too, Keisha. Joe still says he doesn’t know what he did to get such good friends.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “He convinced me he loves you…and he really does, Theresa. And you believed in him, even when he was at his worst.”

“And I’m fierce about how well he’s doing,” she said, clasping her hands tightly. The tears had stopped, apparently replaced by determination. “I don’t know if I could stand it if anything got in the way of the life we’re building.” Her intensity almost scared me, because it suddenly dawned on me that Theresa would do anything—anything!—to save Joe. I knew she would break the law if necessary. And he would do the same for her.

Keisha went back to the office, albeit with some grumbling about “somebody’s got to run that business and I can sell houses as well as the next person.” Then she added, “Present company excepted, of course.”

I urged Theresa to take a nap on Maggie’s bed, and like an obedient little girl, she went to lie down. I gave her cucumber slices for her eyes, “They’re supposed to help get rid of the puffiness. You don’t want Joe to see you looking like that.”

“No, ma’am.” She shook her head.

“And here’s a cold rag for your forehead. It might soothe away the tension.”
As if anything would!

I was sure she didn’t sleep. I wandered the house, puttering, trying to come up with a dinner—no, not creamed tuna on toast again. Maybe when Joe arrived, we’d all go out to supper. That was it! As though I’d solved the problems of the world, I settled on the couch with my book, a new Death on Demand mystery by Carolyn Hart. But I couldn’t read. My thoughts kept wandering to Joe, and somehow they landed back on the Wilsons. What was the connection?

I was the one who slept—soundly, dreaming of the Wilsons and Joe and Joe’s startled look of recognition when he saw Mr. Wilson. Theresa had to shake me several times.

“They’ve arrested Joe,” she said. If I expected hysteria, I was wrong. She was calm and strong, with the same determination I’d seen earlier. “He says they allowed him one phone call, and I’m it. I’m to call that lawyer that helped Miss Claire.”

I sat up so suddenly I was almost dizzy, thoughts spinning. “Why’d they arrest him?”

“Possession. They found cocaine taped to the bottom of the car. In a baggie. Our car.”

Now I was full awake and alert. “Theresa, that’s impossible.”

“I know. Someone put it there. Joe called it a plant. But it’s his word against whoever this time. He can’t even point to Little Ben, though I suspect that’s who did it. Who’s the lawyer?”

“Terrell Johnson. Let me call.” When Claire Guthrie’s husband died in a one-car crash, apparently caused by a lethal mixture of drugs and alcohol in his system, Claire was accused of slipping him a Mickey Finn. But Claire’s youngest daughter finally came forward and confessed to putting Percocet in her mom’s purse aspirin case thinking it would calm her anger against the girl’s father. Terrell Johnson defended Claire and then Liz. He’s young, energetic, and sincere.

His response to my call was immediate. “I’ll go down to the jail and talk to him right now. Hope he doesn’t say any more to the police before I get there. Keep his wife with you, Kelly. I’ll be in touch.”

Theresa thanked me but asked if she could go see Joe. I suspected the answer was no—called Mike and confirmed it. “You’re staying here. I have to go get the girls from school. Do you want Keisha to go with you to get some things from your apartment?”

Theresa looked startled. “No, Joe will be home by evening.” She went with me to get the girls who were overjoyed to see her until they realized their beloved Theresa was very solemn.

“Something’s the matter,” Em announced. Em never asked these things as questions. She knew. Sometimes I wondered if she had some of Keisha’s sixth sense.

My vow never to lie to them caught me again. “Joe’s been arrested on suspicion of dealing drugs.”

Maggie was indignant. “Joe would never do that! I bet it’s Mike’s boss who thinks that, that man who is always shooing us out of the room. Joanie’s husband.”

“Yes, Maggie, it is. But that’s how the system works. We just have to wait and take care of Theresa.”

The rest of the afternoon, they nearly killed Theresa with kindness. I called Anthony to tell him where his daughter was, and he was immediately fighting mad. “Joe’s not like that anymore. Yeah, I would have believed it once, but no more. What can I do?”

“Wait, like the rest of us,” I said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Somehow I expected Mike Shandy to make this all go away. He was my hero, the man who made everything in my life right. Surely he could fix this. Instead he was late coming home and extraordinarily solemn when he got there. He held out his arms to the girls and bent to kiss the tops of their heads, but there was no joking tonight about school or anything else.

When he looked up and saw Theresa, he quickly crossed the room to hug her. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. You’ll spend the night.”

Theresa would have sunk to the floor, I’m sure, if Mike hadn’t supported her. “Joe’s not coming home?”

He held on to her. “Not tonight. They’ve booked him, and he’ll be arraigned in the morning. Terrell Johnson had a long conversation with him, private of course, but I imagine Johnson will ask for bail.”

“Bail?” she wailed. “We can’t afford that. We don’t have an extra hundred dollars, let alone enough for bail.”

Just as I started to step in Mike said, “It’s all arranged through a bail bondsman, and the rest of us will help if you need it to put up the bond.”

Theresa was now bedraggled looking, her hair no longer bouncy and vibrant, her clothes wrinkled—maybe she had slept—and her face haggard. “I…I’d like to stay here tonight, or I can go to my father’s. The boys are always glad to see me.”

“Here is better,” Mike said.

“I need some things from our apartment though.”

Keisha had come back from the office now, and she immediately said, “I’m takin’ you. No way I’m lettin’ you go alone.”

Mike nodded his approval. “I don’t want her to go alone either. And Keisha, it’s better you take her than me. You never know who’s watching.”

A chill went down my spine.

“Hurry back,” I said, “and we’ll go to the Grill for supper.”

And that’s just what we did. Mike asked each of us what we wanted. He vetoed the girls’ ideas of cheeseburgers and got them turkey burgers, salad, no fries. Keisha and I went along with that, but I nearly pounced on him when he ordered himself a rib-eye steak. We were a solemn bunch at dinner, so much so that Peter brightly asked, “How is everybody?”

“Oh, just tired tonight, Peter,” I said.

He nodded and walked away, but he watched us thoughtfully while we ate our silent meal.

Keisha came back to the house with us, and after Theresa asked Mike one last time if she could talk to Joe and Mike shook his head sadly, she went off to help the girls bathe and then read with them—they were now too big to be read to. A funny thought.

Keisha said, “I got to be going. Mike, walk me to my car?”

He didn’t joke about her turning into a fraidy-cat or anything but seemed to sense that she had something to say. It took real will power for me not to say, “I’ll go too,” but after some time with Mike I was learning, at least sometimes, to keep my nose out of every little bit of business.

He came back looking solemn.

Maggie volunteered to sleep on a pallet, so Theresa could have her bed, and I set about fetching the necessary bedding. We seemed to be making pallets a lot these days, first with Jenny and now Theresa. A pang went through me—I hadn’t even thought about an apartment for Mona and Jenny. When I belatedly asked Maggie about Jenny, she shrugged noncommittally and said, “She’s okay. Same-oh, same-oh.” Not sure how to interpret that.

Theresa, claiming exhaustion, went to bed when Maggie did, and I puttered round, quietly calling Anthony to bring him up to date. His response was anything but quiet. In fact, he yelled so loud, I thought his voice through the phone would wake the girls.

“She could come here. I will always keep my daughter safe.”

I soothed him with words about Mike wanting her here and not wanting to upset the boys, Stefan and Emil, and he calmed down—a bit. “Miss Kelly, you just let me at those boys who accuse Joe, and they’ll change their story after two minutes.” I assured him that was the wrong approach and told him I’d talk to him in the morning.

When I asked Mike what Keisha told him, he said, “It’s important to keep Theresa with us all the time. Keisha saw someone watching them when they went to the apartment. Says they were pretty clever about it, but she’s sure.”

I just wanted to weep.

Joe was released on bond the next day. He pled “Not Guilty,” and Mike spoke on his behalf. The judge said he might have dismissed the charges if it weren’t for Joe’s prior conviction. As it was, the bail was relatively modest, and trial was set several months away. Time to clear up the mess, I hoped.

Mike and I were having a quiet drink together in the lawn chairs in the back yard—one of the first days with a hint of spring, warm enough still at five to sit outside. The girls were inside doing homework, and, much as I love them, it was a relief to be able to talk without Maggie’s questions and Em’s pronouncements.

“That old charge was supposed to go away from his record when he completed probation, and he was so close,” I said. “Now will it stay on his record?”

“Not if Terrell Johnson can help it,” Mike told me.

“Bail?”

“$25,000. I posted $250 and made sure he was with a bond agent I trust. Joe’s not a flight risk.

****

After dinner, we were checking homework when Joe and Theresa appeared at the front door. Both girls squealed and ran for hugs, happy not only to be relieved from homework but to see two of their favorite people. Joe and Theresa hugged them, asked about school, and listened to their chatter.

“Maggie! Em! At least let them sit down, and let me get them something to drink.”

The girls obeyed, and Theresa and Joe sat close to each other on the couch, with one girl on either side. I brought them each a beer, and glasses of 7Up for the girls. No Coke this hour of the night or they wouldn’t sleep—or so, this old-fashioned mom thought.

Joe spoke up. “Theresa, can you take the girls into their bedrooms and help them get ready for tomorrow.” His eyes pleaded with her, and she jumped up.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

It was now too cool to go back to the yard, but Theresa would keep the girls from eavesdropping. She knew just what Joe was up to. I only wished I did.

“Miss Kelly, Mr. Mike, I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m in a hole that I didn’t dig, but I’ll climb my way out of it. You’ve given me that leg up. And, Mr. Mike, I’ll repay that money as soon as I can.”

Mike raised a hand. “No problem and no hurry, Joe. I know you’re not a flight risk.”

He smiled a bit. “Oh, no, I won’t leave Theresa. Ever.”

It sounded ominously like a vow to me.

Mike looked at him and said, “Joe, be careful. Someone out there has it in for you.” There was something about Mike’s warning that scared me, but he went on, “I’m not sure what they want, but take care.”

“They want me to take the fall for the drug dealing in Fairmount. It’s like they’ve moved into a new territory, but they see trouble. And some of them are just mean—they want to get me to show I can’t leave my past behind me. But they’ve gotten a lot worse than I ever was. They want me to work with them—I’ll see if I get an offer.”

“What kind of trouble are they expecting?” I asked naively.

“Trouble from Mike and José and everyone they work with. They somehow know that I’m close to you all, so they think—at least this is what I’m guessing—that putting me on the spot will distract you. Or maybe they think I’ll turn snitch for them—tell them what I overhear from you. I think I’m okay as long as they need me. And they still got that big stick.”

“Theresa?”

He nodded.

Just then the girls, freshly bathed, teeth brushed, and in pajamas, came to say goodnight. There were hugs all around, promises from Theresa and Joe to visit often.

The girls trotted off to bed, and Mike very quietly closed the door between the bedrooms and the living room.

“Joe, do you and Theresa want to move into the apartment? We could help you watch Theresa.”

“Watch me?” she asked in alarm, edging closer to Joe and putting her hand on his knee. “Joe will always take care of me. No, it’s Joe I’m worried about.”

“I’ll be all right, Theresa. I’m going to talk to Little Ben—I know how to find him. After that, we’ll see. Besides—and I told Theresa this—if the rent is right, we may need the apartment. I feel I have to tell the Y folks what’s happened—and when they hear any hint of drugs, no matter what I say, I’ll probably be out of there.”

“The rent will definitely be right,” Mike said, “So will the board part. I admire you for being honest.”

“I’ve learned. I’m not playing the game no more.”

“Any more,” Theresa chimed in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Something deep inside told me they would be all right, but it was going to be a struggle.

They left shortly after, with promises to keep in close touch.

As Mike and I turned out lights and got ready to go to bed, I asked Mike, “Will Joe really lose his job? He’s so good at what he does.”

He nodded. “Yeah, he probably will. The YMCA can’t afford to take on chance on even the hint of drugs. But Joe’s right to tell them. They both may have to drop out of school, too. But we’ll let them live rent free.”

I nodded.

Finally, when we crawled into bed, exhausted, I said, “Mike, I haven’t had a chance to tell you about breakfast with Mona.”

Half asleep, he muttered, “How did it go? Was she receptive to help from you two busybodies?”

“Mona Wilson will surprise you. You want to know what I bet she’s doing right now, with Jenny asleep? Working on her resume and business plan.”

“Business plan,” he scoffed. “I bet she’ll be lucky to get a job as a waitress or maybe, at best, a job in counter sales. She has no confidence, and I bet zilch experience. I bet she married that guy right out of high school.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. She has a background in food service, though she didn’t say what it is. And she has a dream about—get this!—an upscale hot dog café.”

He was awake now and sitting up. “So what can you do to an ordinary hot dog besides put mustard and cheese on it? Maybe chili?”

“She reeled off a list. I think she’s been doing some internet research. Claire encouraged her about small business grants and loans, and they’re going to work together on it. My part in all this, which I put Keisha to work on today, is to find her an apartment. She wants Jenny out of that house. But we didn’t make the suggestion. She did. First thing.”

He whistled long and low. “I am surprised. If there’s that much to her, why did she stay with Todd Wilson and take those beatings?”

“You know what Keisha said—she was protecting Jenny. I hope she’ll tell me the whole story one day.”

He looked at me with respect. “Keisha was probably right. I hope you can get them out of that house right away. Not sure why, but I feel she’s more of a target there. And so’s Jenny. She’s the one in real danger, though she doesn’t know it, thank goodness.”

“Target for who? Danger from what? I don’t understand what anyone would have to gain, with Todd Wilson gone. “

“Maybe someone who wants to find him and thinks Mona knows where he went. Personally, I don’t think she does.”

“And she made plain today, she doesn’t care one bit. She’s just glad he’s gone.”

And with that, he really did turn over and go to sleep.

****

Keisha had found several apartments that might do for Mona and Jenny, so my first order of business the next day was to call an acquaintance who leased apartments and managed what I thought was the best choice—the Mehl Building on Henderson and Magnolia. “Hi, Doris. Kelly O’Connell here. I have a friend…no, not a client, a friend looking for a temporary apartment between houses. This is a single lady with an eleven-year-old daughter. I can vouch for her respectability….yes, I think she’ll be a responsible tenant.” I crossed my fingers on that one. I’d have to get down and dirty with Mona about her ability to pay rent and buy groceries. “She’ll need something reasonable, not fancy, and I was wondering about the Mehl building.”

She agreed that it was a good choice. There was one two-bedroom vacant and several one-bedroom units, and she could show it the next morning. She had to give the owner notice and all that.

“Can you tell me the rent? Are the utilities paid? What else should she know?”

Doris said a two-bedroom would run close to a thousand a month. Utilities paid. Maintenance guaranteed…and the owners were good about it.

“Okay. I’ll call her and get back to you. Say we meet you there at ten tomorrow morning? Is the door on Henderson or Magnolia?”

“Henderson, and there’s parking in the rear.”

Mona thought she’d like to look and agreed to ten in the morning. Then she asked, “Kelly, I know this is an imposition, and it’s way too early, but could you get us inside Faye’s Diner? I’d like to see it. See if it would work as well as I think.”

“Sure. How about if we do that after we look at the apartment and then have lunch. Maybe my treat at Lili’s.”

“I’ve never been there. I’d like that. I really am indebted to you and Claire.”

“Nonsense. We’ve both had our rough times, and we want to help.”

I spent the rest of the day working with the clients I’d neglected because of Joe, Theresa, Mona and Jenny. But I got a surprise phone call in the afternoon. I thought Keisha was going to have apoplexy after she asked, “May I tell her who’s calling?” She couldn’t speak and simply pointed to me and the phone.

“This is Kelly.”

“Ms. O’Connell, this is Lorna McDavid. Did you send a policewoman—at least that’s who she said she was—to my house today? If so, I’m even more disappointed in you. I ran her off and told her not to come back.”

I wanted to say, “I bet you did,” but I refrained. “Ms. McDavid, you’re growing marijuana in your back yard, and that’s illegal. I’m sure that’s why she was there.”

“It’s my own property, and I will grow what I want,” she said harshly. And then, with no change in her tone, “Do you remember offering to help me? Lucinda can no longer get me groceries, and I want you to do that. I’ll leave a list and some money on the entryway table tomorrow morning. The door will be unlocked.”

I started to sputter that I had an appointment in the morning and that wouldn’t work at all. But that bird that Mike talks about on my shoulder whispered to me that a few grocery trips might give me a better chance at renovating that house. So I said as smoothly as I could, “I have appointments in the morning, but I’ll get your groceries in the early afternoon.”

“I guess that will do,” she said. “Leave them in the kitchen and refrigerate the perishables. It isn’t much of a list.” And the phone clicked. No thank you, no nothing, but my orders for the day. I couldn’t help laughing, but when I told Keisha the story, she didn’t think it was funny.

“I am not shopping for that old lady, Kelly, so don’t try to pass that job off on me.”

****

That night at dinner Mike let slip something about the possibility of Joe and Theresa living in the apartment. Talk about losing his cool. Here I was being so circumspect in front of the girls, and he jumped in with both feet.

The girls squealed. “Would they really? Oh, that would be so great.”

Em added, “Almost as good as having Emily the cat back there.”

“Dork,” Maggie said scornfully, cuffing her sister playfully on the side of the head.

Em hit back, a punch in the arm with all the force of an eight-year-old and cried, “I am not. Emily is better than Gus any day.” Gus sat adoringly by Maggie’s side, waiting, I knew, for her to slip him a tidbit of dinner, a practice I had strictly forbidden. Em never glanced at Gus, but she had adored Claire’s cat, Emily, when Claire lived in the apartment and still talked about her. Occasionally, when I thought about it, I took Em to visit Emily.