Danger Comes Home (Kelly O'Connell Mystery) (9 page)

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Authors: Judy Alter

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BOOK: Danger Comes Home (Kelly O'Connell Mystery)
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Her face lit up. “Really?”

He nodded.

In a short time all three girls were happily slathering syrup on hot pancakes. Mike and I had lost our chance to talk.

As I left to take the girls to school, I asked, “Can we have lunch today? Uh, I have a few things to talk to you about.”

He raised an eyebrow in question but then said, “Sure. How about the Grill at eleven-thirty?”

“Deal!” I high-fived him, to the girls’ great delight.

The morning moved along predictably—a couple of inquiries about the bungalow Anthony had just renovated, a woman who wanted a large house in good repair—these days we had some of those—and a woman who was interested in a house on Chase Court. Actually, I knew of one. Mrs. McLaughton had been one of the victims of the serial killer. Tom Lattimore, a shady real estate entrepreneur, had rushed to list her house before he was murdered. In the almost two years since, the family had not done anything about selling it. I’d approached them a couple of times, but they just weren’t ready. The McLaughton black-sheep son still lived there as far as I knew, and the house was probably a wreck.

I felt obligated to warn the woman that Chase Court bordered on an undesirable neighborhood, but it turned out she was going to work nearby at the Woman’s Center and liked the location. I promised to call when I could make it available for showing, which meant getting the son out of the house. Why is real estate so complicated?

It must have been my morning for interesting phone calls. Keisha answered the phone, said, “Yes, ma’am, she’s in. Just a moment,” shot me one of her inscrutable looks, and said, “Line one, Kelly.”

As if we had more than one line!
The voice on the other end said, “This is Mona Wilson,” and I nearly fell off my chair. The one thing I knew I could not do was let on that I knew anything about last night, but I had so many unanswered questions.

Her soft voice hesitated. “I just wanted to thank you again for taking Jenny in last night. What I thought would be a problem turned out not to be, and I don’t think there will be any more. Jenny will be safe with me after this.”

I didn’t know what to make of that, let alone what to say, except, “I’m relieved to hear that. Jenny was very worried about you last night.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But I think it’s all right now.” A pause, and then she added, “My husband has left home. I don’t think he’ll be back.” And the phone went dead.

Oh boy, I can’t wait to talk to Mike at lunch.

When I slid into the booth at the Grill where Mike was already waiting, I was bursting with so many things I’d made a list. It began with the previous night’s raid, so we kept our voices low, leaning close to each other. Impatiently, I got up and sat on his side of the booth, after checking out the people behind him. They were elderly and engrossed in the daily paper.

Mike was laughing, but I could see dark circles under his eyes. “What all is on your mind?”

I whipped out my list, and he groaned.

“Last night,” I began. “What happened? What is Todd Wilson like?”

“There was no trouble, no resistance. We showed our warrant, Mrs. Wilson invited us in, and said to do whatever we needed. She was quite calm about the whole thing, as though she’d been expecting it. Which from all signs she was.”

Made me think of her calm on the phone this morning. I was still processing her announcement, but I didn’t yet tell Mike. “What about him? What’s he like?”

“Middle-aged, whatever that is. A lot older than her. Pasty pale, as though he never sets foot outside and never gets any exercise. Got a paunch. Smelled of beer. But he wasn’t belligerent or angry, didn’t protest or anything. Said he didn’t know what we expected to find and then showed a bit of humor, said ‘If it’s drugs, boys, you’ve got the wrong guy and the wrong place. I run a check-cashing business.’

“And as I said we didn’t find anything, don’t have anything to charge him with, even though I’m sure he’s running drugs through there. He’s not the top guy by any means, just a cog in the chain, but he’s one step above the street dealers he’s supplying.”

“Claire says drugs are all over the high school.”

“We’re on that with an officer stationed at the school and another, who looks sixteen and is twenty-six, attending classes and playing on the football team. All he’s been offered so far is steroids!” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

Peter delivered our lunches about that time—and Peter almost never waits tables. “I like to see you two like that. Warms an old man’s heart.”

Mike scoffed. “An old man! Peter, you’re no more than ten years older than we are at best.”

“Don’t bet on it,” he said. “Enjoy your lunch.

We dug in. I’d ordered a Caesar salad with scallops, while Mike had a cheeseburger and fries. We ate in silence, and then I said, “Guess who called me this morning?”

“Buck Conroy. He wants you to join the force undercover.” He was grinning.

“Oh, yeah, that too, but I turned him down. Seriously, Mike, Mona Wilson called. Said the trouble she anticipated last night didn’t happen, and she was sure the situation wouldn’t come up again. Then she dropped her bombshell: her husband has left home. She doesn’t expect him back.”

He dropped his silverware and stared at me. “Holy cow, Kelly. That’s major. Why didn’t you tell me right away? I’ll go see Mona as soon as I finish eating. Let’s hurry.”

In the end, he left me sitting over the rest of my salad while he bolted, but not before I could ask the question that bothered me. “How will Mona and Jenny live if Todd is gone? Whatever his business, it was the source of their income.”

Mike almost talked with his mouth full. “Not my problem. It was drug money, Kelly. His leaving proves that.” Then he stopped and stared at me. “No, you’re not taking that woman and her daughter into the garage apartment. You’ve got to realize that she’s a red flag. Take my word on that—in my official capacity. She’s in danger, and so, I’m sorry to say, is Jenny. We’ll try to keep an eye on them….”

And he was gone, leaving me with a peck on the cheek from him and a half-eaten salad in front of me. I reached over and took one of the curly fries he hadn’t taken time to eat.

What I really wanted to ask him was if Todd Wilson’s disappearance freed Claire to move in on Mona and whether or not I could tell Claire the latest news, including the raid. Surely the raid was why he ordered Claire to stay away. Now he was preoccupied with seeing Mona and would be furious, to be put mildly, if I called and interrupted.
Sigh. I have to wait till he comes home tonight.

Chapter Seven

Mike came in at the usual time, looking exhausted from lack of sleep. I brought him a glass of red wine, for which he thanked me, and I said we’d have scrambled eggs and bacon for dinner. He managed to smile. “No creamed tuna on toast?”

“It wasn’t that bad a day. I had a good prospect for the McLaughton house today, woman who’s going to work at the Woman’s Center and wants to live close.”

“Good,” he said absently.

“Mike, I know you’re tired, but I have a question. Is Claire freed from her promise not to talk to Mona? Am I?”

Mike sighed and took a sip of wine. “I suppose so, but don’t either one of you bring her home and don’t get too close. I talked to her today, and she didn’t seem surprised, said somehow he knew the raid was coming, which means to me the next problem is to smoke the snitch out of the department. Mona also didn’t seem worried. I asked her if she wasn’t afraid the drug dealers would come after her to find her husband, but she didn’t think so. I think she’s fooling herself. And I think Jenny’s in danger.” He paused. “But after I had time to think about your question, I do wonder how she’s going to feed Jenny…and they ought to get out of that house, for a lot of reasons besides its condition.”

“Mike, if what we’re hearing is true, these are really mean people. They don’t threaten the people they want to get at—they threaten someone near and dear to them, the innocents. Mona’s not in as much danger as Jenny is, and Joe’s not in as much danger as Theresa.”

His head jerked up. “Theresa? Is she in danger?”

I nodded. “That’s part of what I didn’t tell you. Joe’s received threats that something could happen to Theresa. That’s why he’s behaving the way he is, only she doesn’t understand, and it’s driving a wedge between them—a big one.”

He put his head in his hands. “We’ve got to smoke out that snitch. But we can’t even fake him out on a raid, if we don’t know who and where we’re raiding. I’m going to be working some long hours from now on.”

Not joyous news to my ears, for several reasons.

Sometimes breakfast for dinner is a real treat. I scrambled the eggs with some sharp cheddar grated into them and served crisp bacon and toast with apple butter, a family favorite. Mike ate as though he hadn’t eaten all day—hadn’t I seen him eat that cheeseburger? Well, wolf it down.

“You know what? I’m going to bed, for the night,” he announced after he cleaned his plate.

“We’ll be quiet,” I promised. Standing up I gave him a kiss and said, “Sweet dreams.”

“Not likely,” he said as he kissed me back, dropped a kiss on the top of each girl’s head, and left us. I set the girls to clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen—with a reminder to leave the iron skillet for me—and called Claire.

“I’ve got news about Mona. Are you busy tonight? Want to come for a glass of wine after my girls are in bed?”

“I sure do. I’ll be there at eight-thirty. Liz will be fine alone with the alarm system on. One of the joys of having almost-grown children.”

The girls had finished their homework, so they worked on a jigsaw puzzle, a really complicated snow scene of a thousand pieces that they’d been working on for several days. We kept it spread out on the dining table, which meant we had to take all our meals in the kitchen and couldn’t invite company. Right now that was fine.

Claire was prompt, even a tad early, enough so she got a hug from the girls before I shooed them away. I poured wine, and we settled at the dining table to talk.

“Don’t you dare work on that puzzle,” she said. “I want to hear.”

So I told her about keeping Jenny last night, the raid on the Wilson house, and Mona’s startling news this morning.

“So I can talk to her? I have some ideas, even more since I know the husband is out of the picture.”


We
can talk to her. Now tell me your ideas.”

“First of all, if she’s as inexperienced in the world as I suspect, we need to get her to the Woman’s Center. They prepare women to go out into the working world—I’m sure she’ll have to work. They’ll guide her toward a career that suits her abilities and interests. The bank works with them all the time, and sometimes we’re able to negotiate funding to tide these women over until they can bring in income.”

“I have a client who has just gone to work there. I can talk to her if need be. But, first, Mike says Mona and Jenny ought to get out of that house.”

“Agreed. There are some nice apartments in redone buildings around, especially a couple on Magnolia. That’s your department.”

“I’ll assign Keisha. Have you thought of the possibility that Mona will resent our taking over her life?”

“No,” Claire said, “she won’t. I’m calling her right now for breakfast at the Grill tomorrow morning after she gets Jenny to school. Give me her number,” she demanded.

I got up to find my cell phone, found Mona on my contacts, and handed Claire the phone.

“Mona? Claire Guthrie, Kelly’s friend. We met at supper recently. I was wondering…could you meet me for breakfast tomorrow at the Old Neighborhood Grill? It’s right down the streets from the school, so I thought maybe you could stop there after you drop Jenny off.”

She listened for a minute and then said, “No, nothing serious. I’d just like to get acquainted.”

I hoped Claire had her fingers crossed.

“Fine. See you there…and thanks.”

“That will be three at breakfast,” I said, retrieving my phone and then going for more wine.

It was ten-thirty before Claire left, and we had Mona’s future planned. Mike would have laughed at us…or told us to mind our own business.

I got ready for bed as quietly as I could and crawled in carefully so as not to wake him, but he rolled over, took me in his arms, and said,

“Fooled you. I’ve been waiting for you. And no, I don’t want to hear what you and Claire have cooked up.”

****

Mona surprised us. She was neither as naïve or inexperienced as we thought. Fortunately, Claire was tactful about her plans. At first talk was idle. Mona seemed to want to talk of the inconsequential. How was Maggie doing in school? She wasn’t sure about Jenny. Her grades were good enough, but the child had no friends beyond Maggie.

“Mona,” I said, taking that old bull by the horns, “I hope you don’t mind that I shared news of your husband’s departure. Claire was concerned about you, and I am too.”

“No, I appreciate your interest. I need friends right now. I have to make some plans.”

“Did your husband leave a note or something, or did he just disappear? Do you think you should report him missing? It’s been twenty-four hours, more really.”

“Who’s missing him?” she asked. “Certainly not Jenny and me.” There was just a tinge of bitterness to her words. What an awful commentary on a man and his life. Nobody missed him!

Claire and I exchanged looks, and Mona went on in almost a businesslike tone. “The first thing, I want to get Jenny out of that house as soon as I can. It’s rundown, dangerously so, and it has bad associations for both of us.”

I had anticipated this. In fact, Mike said they needed to get out of that house for a lot of reasons. So I told them, “I asked Keisha to scout apartments this morning. Developers have been redoing some older buildings and the apartments are really quite charming.”

“I’d appreciate that. I’d like to have two bedrooms, if I can. Jenny loves her bedroom. In spite of our old, shabby house, I’ve fixed up Jenny’s room with pink curtains and a matching bedspread, flowered throw rugs. And then she has all her stuffed animals and a crammed bookcase, not that she’s much of a reader. But I kept buying books, hoping she’d catch the bug. Todd finally made me quit. Said it was a waste of money.”

She seemed to draw herself back to the present. “But we can do with one bedroom for a while.”

I promised we’d see what we could find.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do, how you’ll earn a living?” Claire finally got into the conversation.

“Oh yes. I have a dream, though I doubt I can afford to do it. Used to be in the food service business. A long time ago. What is it they say on the
Today
show—what’s trending today? I watched that show because Todd would always be asleep and if I kept it low, he didn’t know. And I watched the Food Network. One of the things that’s trending today is hot dogs. Someday I’m going to open a hot dog stand—with all the various kinds of toppings, so you can have Chicago style, muffaletta dogs, Thai-style, Greek. I’ve even seen some with black-eyed peas and corn and pickled jalapeño. And I know about the new spiral-cut technique.”

Claire and I were both floored, and I’m sure it showed on our faces. Here was this woman that we thought had no gumption, couldn’t or wouldn’t defend herself, and she was miles ahead of me. To me, a hot dog was a hot dog. But I could see that the idea had possibilities. Overnight, Mona Wilson had gone from a defeated woman to a self-confident one looking forward to the future. How, I wanted to ask, did you get yourself into that marriage? And how did you change that quickly? Maybe someday she’d tell me.

She even looked different today. She had taken care and put on makeup, a minimal amount to be sure, and she wore a bias-cut beige skirt and a pink shirt. When I complimented her, she said, “Thank you. They’re new. I got them yesterday at Old Navy.”

So she went out and went shopping the minute her husband left her? A strange reaction to my mind, not that I was criticizing.
“Tell me about the hot dog—what did you call it? A café rather than a stand?”

“I don’t think I can afford to do it right away, but I saw a place on Magnolia that’s just right…and for rent. I’d love to see it.”

Claire spoke slowly. “Sometimes small business loans are available. The bank has worked with the Small Business Administration on a couple of cases. And there are grants available if you qualify.”

The bitterness came back. “Do you think a drug dealer’s wife would qualify?”

Claire spoke softly but firmly. “Don’t think of yourself that way. You are a single woman with a child to support and, apparently, some skills with which to do that. You just need a push to get you started…and a business plan and a resume. I can work with you on those, if you’ll start by making some notes for both.”

This time it was Mona who looked truly stunned. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, we would” I said softly, “and for Jenny.”

The three of us sat in the Grill until ten o’clock or slightly after. Peter refilled our coffee from time to time and once said, “It’s good to see you all look so interested in whatever you’re talking about. You look alive.”

We finally left—Claire to go to the bank, Mona to go home and work on her notes, and me to the office, with a promise to let them know what Keisha had found out about apartments.

****

When I got to the office, Keisha said that Theresa called about twenty minutes earlier. “She sounded upset, said she had to talk to you, so I told her that surely you’d be here soon. You didn’t exactly tell me you’d be late, you know. Anyway I told her to come over. What’s going on that I should know about?”

“I was at the Grill with Mona Wilson and Claire. We were mapping out Mona’s future. Her husband left her. Anyway I guess time got away from us.”

“And you left me to research apartments while you ate waffles and drank coffee all morning? Thanks, Kelly.”

I hadn’t told her about Joe’s talk with me in the park, but she was the one, after all, who had announced that Joe was in trouble. So now I told her, in strictest confidence, what he’d said. Her fighting spirit came out.

“That Buck Conroy is more of a fool than I ever imagined. If he thinks Joe Mendez is dealing drugs, he needs to be committed. Conroy that is, not Joe.”

I shrugged. “I agree, but I’m doing better with Conroy these days. Maybe I can even help there.”

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