Gunning For Angels (Fallen Angels Book 1) (17 page)

Beware of the man that does not talk and the dog that does not bark.

–Cheyenne

“My father died of a massive heart attack,” Jenson said to Bud, smiling pleasantly. “If they had had all this high-tech medical do-dad-er-ee back then, my father would be alive, kicking – and up to his eyeballs in dames.”

Lying in his hospital bed, Bud frowned at Jenson, who had set down a “get well” African violet on the window sill. Jenson wore a mint green bowling shirt, grey slacks and – Bud had to ask, “Are those spats?”

Jenson stuck one foot out. “Lovely, aren’t they? I wouldn’t dare wear them to work, but I thought they had a certain
je ne sais quoi
that you might appreciate.”

Bud grunted, a half laugh.

“I heard your son got a social call from our prime suspect.” 

Bud scowled. 

Jenson smiled gently. “There was even talk of them going on – a date?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Might want to verify that with the kid, Bud.”

Bud shot him a look.

Jenson made a face, shrugged. “I didn’t make detective grade based on my fashion sense. Word is, Chip shared dirty martinis at Durant’s with our fave femme fatale, Eve Hargrove.”

“
Do you know Jack Fox?” Bud said, abruptly.

“Never met him, but I’ve heard the stories – the one about when he was a kid at his father’s funeral. Gads! Gives me the willies, just thinking of it.”
             

“Jeni Hargrove hired him to find her biological mother.”

Jenson looked at Bud, startled.

“Turns out, Vivian Hargrove ‘adopted’ Jeni when she was a baby, but never did any official paperwork. Jeni hired Jack to find her biological mother.”

“How did we not turn that up in our investigation?”

“Makes me wonder about the other sister.”

“Paler-than-paint Laura,” Jenson murmured. “She’s my nominee for most likely to harken from another pool of DNA. Those three sisters are as different as the seasons.”

“I want to
talk to Jack Fox – find out if – ”

“You’re on leave.
And a long leave at that.”

“W
here’d you hear that?” Bud said sharply. 

“Oh.” Jenson stood up, smiling like a cherub. “Perhaps, you haven’t heard…?”

“Heard what?”

“Bunnie was kind enough to put in for a six-week leave while you recuperate.”

“What!” Bud sat bolt upright, alarmed.

“In her defense, I think she’s spot-on. You need time to recuperate. You know who lives the longest, Bud?
Hypochondriacs
. They’re always running off to the doctor to get things fixed before anything even breaks down. It won’t kill you to take six weeks, but it may kill you
not
to take the six weeks.”

Bud glowered at Jenson, who g
ave him a jaunty wave. “Must go. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

Jenson left and Bud reached for the phone, intent on having it out with Bunnie.

“Bud?”

Bud looked up and was startled to see Frank Ficus’s bulky figure in the doorway. Frank was sweating and shifting nervously from one giant flat foot to the other as he eyed the monitors hooked up to Bud.

Bud clicked the phone off.

“I – uh…” Frank’s eyes were glued on the electronic green line that beeped with Bud’s heartbeat.

“Hi, Frank. What are you doing here?”

Frank moved toward the chair, gingerly edging his bulky frame into it. 

“Don’t like hospitals?” Bud said.

Frank grunted.

“Tell me about it,” Bud said.

“When are you getting
out?” Frank said tentatively.

It was strange to see the big man nervous as a cat. His eyes were on a constant prowl around the room, like a cootie was going to jump out and turn
him
into the patient.

“Not sure,
” Bud said.

“Yeah, yeah,
” Frank said, distractedly.

“How’s the private eye b
usiness treating you?” Bud said, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Same old, same old – you know,” Frank mumbled, rubbing his hands together.

Bud sighed. Frank had never been known for his scintillating conversation. During the ten years they worked together as police officers on the beat, Bud couldn’t remember talking about anything more than the weather, sports or work. Bud decided the best tack was to wait for Frank to pipe up on his own.

After several moment, Frank said,
“I heard they got a positive I.D. on Daniel Hargrove’s body.”

Bud nodded.

Frank said, “I heard the daughter, Eve Hargrove, came around the station – asking for me?”

“Yeah. What was that about?”

“You don’t know?” Frank said, surprised.

“Why would I know?”

Frank contemplated this.

“How do you know her?” Bud said
.

Frank abruptly stood up.

A subtle instinct tickled at Bud’s brain. He casually threw out, “Didn’t you used to work with Jack Fox?” 

Frank started like Bud threw a firecracker.

Bud sat up. “Frank…!”

“Hope you feel better,” Frank blurted out and darted from the room.

Bud tried to get out of bed, but was pulled back by the multitude of wires that stretched between him and the monitors. Bud stared in frustration at his surroundings – he wanted nothing more then to run down Frank and
make
him talk.

The monitors blinked and beeped at him. A wave of depression swept over him. He got back into bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. 

“Yes, yes,” said the Beast, “my heart is good, but still I am a monster.”

“Among mankind,” says Beauty, “there are many that deserve that name more than you, and I prefer you, just as you are, to those, who, under a human form, hide a treacherous, corrupt, and ungrateful heart.”

–
Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont

Enid sat at Jack’s kitchen table, glaring up at him as she said, “A little privacy, please.” 

Jack
crossed his arms. “Dial.”

Enid held out the cell, smiled sweetly. “Why don’t
you
talk to my mother?”

Jack threw up his hands and retreated to the safety of the living room.

Enid sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to her mother, but she and Jack had made a deal. If she got permission from her mother, then she could stay longer. What “longer” meant, both she and Jack had carefully avoided discussing. She took a deep breath and dialed. It rang twice. Her mother’s voice, smoky with drink, answered.

“Yel-lo?

“Hi mom.”

Her mother’s ear-splitting screech pierced through the phone. “Where the hell have you been?!” 

“I’m fine. I – ”

“I been thinking you’re hacked up and dead in a ditch – or murdered! You disappear and
not
call? Where the hell are you?”

“Arizona.”

“Ari-what-the-freak-a-zona are you doing out there?”

“I’m with – Jack Fox.”

Dead silence.

“Mom? You there?”

“How…?”

“You told me.”

There was a long silence. “Does he remember me?” Enid was surprised at the childish break in her mother’s voice.

Enid made a face, “I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re coming home!”

“He said it’s all right – can I stay? Just a little longer…?”

“You sure as hell didn’t think to ask my permission before you disappeared!”

“I left a letter.
”

“You took all my cash!”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“The hell you will – you’re coming home. I’ll give you my credit card number – I want you back no later than tomorrow!”

“Why?”

“Whaddya mean ‘why’?”

“I mean,
why
do you want me back? You don’t pay any attention to me – I
know
you wish I was never born!”

At the silence on the other end of the line, Enid’s skin prickled with fear – maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t know if her mother wished she never been born, but it
felt
like that.

Jack appeared out of nowhere, took the cell from her.

He walked into the other room where Enid could hear him talking to her mother. He sounded like a rational adult – not like the jerk that’d been hassling her since she arrived. She bit her nails and curled her legs under her, listening to his voice, which was more soothing than she ever imagined it could be.

Within twenty minutes, he had permission for her to stay for three more days. Jack handed her the phone and Enid mumbled a goodbye, and then realized that her mother had hung up.

The next morning, after insisting that going “undercover” was no big deal and, in fact, a really cool adventure, Enid began to regret not letting Jack talk her out of it. He
had
tried to talk her out of it, but she had insisted that she could do it – and wanted to do it.

Why am I doing this?

Walking toward the two-story brick building, Enid felt her stomach twisting with nausea. What seemed like an adventure was becoming reality – and she didn’t like it.

Enid glanced behind her, but Jack’s car was nowhere to be seen. She concentrated on the reassuring bulge of the disposable cell phone hidden in her sock. Jack bought it at Circle K before he dropped her off and he promised he would be waiting for her at their meet-up spot at six o’clock that night. 

He better!

Enid paused as if waiting for a sign from the universe to turn and run. 

I must be crazy…

What kind of father was he anyway? Sending his daughter undercover where, for all he knew, she was going to be kidnapped, tortured and buried in some dank basement by an ax-wielding clown! Feeling the panic rising within her, she did an about-face and started planning her story about why she couldn’t do it.

“Enid!” A girl’s voice called.

Startled, Enid stopped and saw Tweaker walking a fluffy handful of a dog on a leash.

“That yours?” Enid called out. 

“Nah. Pooper-scooper witch-detail. You checking in?” Tweaker stopped in front of her.

Enid bent to pet the dog, which went into a yapping frenzy.

Tweaker yanked the leash, which sent the tiny dog flying backwards. “Don’t trust her. She’ll take your fingers off. She’s not what she appears.”

“She doesn’t look big enough to poop out a finger – much less eat one.”

“She’s like a python. Stretches.”

“What’s her name?”

“Tootles. But we call her Little Bitch.”

“Why do they call you Tweaker?”

“My mom.”

Enid nodded, pretending to understand.

“You smoke?” Tweaker asked.

Enid shook her head.

Tweaker covertly pulled a cigarette and lighter out of her pocket. She lit up, took a drag and offered it to Enid, who shook her head politely.

Enid said, “Is it really that bad here?”

Tweaker shrugged. “No worse than where I came from – just different.”

“How?”

A bell clanged. Tweaker stubbed the cigarette on the bottom of her shoe and slid it back in her pocket.

“Come on,” Tweaker grabbed Enid’s arm and dragged her toward the building. The dog yapped and lunged for Enid’s ankles, but Tweaker gave the leash a tug that sent the dog tumbling backwards again.

Enid hurried to keep up with Tweaker, who led her through the front entrance. A sign above it read: And now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity (I Corinthians 13:13).

Tweaker nodded toward a door inscribed “Office” and whispered, “We’ll find you –
after
.”

Enid watched as Tweaker dragged the yapping dog down the echoing hallway. Enid glanced back at the entrance, itching to head out.

I can leave right now.

Vivian Hargrove walked out of the office and ran into Enid.

“So sorry,” Vivian said, placing a hand on Enid’s arm. “Oh, you’re new? Checking in?”

Enid felt a childish urge to turn and run as fast as she was able.

Vivian smiled reassuringly, her hand clamping down as she guided her into the office, “Did you come alone or did someone drop you off?”

The office was sparely furnished. Its only decorative touch was a series of framed motivational pictures.

“Alone,” Enid mumbled. 

“Mrs. Hobbs, we have a new girl.” Vivian gave Enid a nudge toward the desk.

Mrs. Hobbs looked up, frowning.

Enid wrinkled her nose at the sickeningly sweet perfume that permeated the room and seemed to have Mrs. Hobbs as a nucleus.

Mrs. Hobbs handed her a clipboard of papers and pointed to a chair. “Be as accurate as you can. It helps us in determining your needs.”

Two hours later, a dazed Enid sat in a tiny dorm room furnished with a bunk bed, two chairs, two lockers, a table and a battered wastebasket. The window overlooked a dirt field bounded by ragged brush. Enid looked over the items Mrs. Hobbs had given her: sheets, blanket, pillow, towel, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb. Mrs. Hobbs told her that she would be given an extra set of clothes later in the day.

Tweaker stuck her head in the door. “Hey badass.”

Enid grinned, happy to see a familiar face.  

“Mrs. Hobbs gave me permission to give you the grand tour.”

“Am I going to have a roommate?” Enid nodded at the bunk bed.

“You never know. A girl will come in while you’re sleeping and be gone before you’re awake. Most girls don’t stay long. Spaz just came in last week. Me, Bones and Red been here the longest.”

“What about Heather?”

“Four months. I don’t think she’ll last too much longer.”

“What do you mean? Like, run away?”

“It doesn’t pay to be too nosy around here.” Tweaker waved for her to follow her. Once in the hallway, Tweaker opened a door that revealed a long room of toilet stalls on one side and shower stalls with a plastic curtain in front of each on the other. “You want hot water, get here by seven-o-eight and, unless you want to get your ass kicked, don’t ever flush when somebody is in the shower. Shout your stall number and they’ll flush for you when they leave. They’ll do the same for you.”

Tweaker led her down the stairs to the first floor and pushed open a door. “Cafeteria,” Tweaker said. Four rows of cafeteria tables were lined up and an older woman with a sour face and two girls were working to set up for lunch. “That’s Rosa,” Tweaker whispered, “When you pull lunch duty – keep your mouth shut and do whatever she tells you.”

“Over there!” Rosa barked, whacking a startled girl on the back of the thigh with a wooden spoon. The girl changed directions, scurrying to pick up a stack of plates.

Enid’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “You can’t hit students! Back in Florida,
one of the teachers got fired – ”

“You ain’t in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Tweaker pulled her down the hall and they turned a corner. She pointing to a long hallway and said, “Classrooms.”

“Don’t you go to school?” Enid asked in surprise.

“Home school – minus the home. Wait till you get a load of Mr. Graves.” Tweaker shook her hand like it was blazing hot.

At that moment, a handsome man in his late twenties, with a crew cut and muscles, came out of one of the classrooms. He looked at Tweaker in surprise. “Susan, what are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be…?

“Mrs. Hobbs told me to show the new girl around,” Tweaker said, hooking her thumb at Enid.

“Oh. Well, welcome.” Mr. Graves smiled pleasantly at Enid. “Finish the tour and get back to class, Susan.”

He disappeared around the corner.

Tweaker sighed in admiration, “He’s so hot!”

“I’m in love too,” Enid smiled, thinking about Chip. 

“Didn’t say I was in love!
Yuck
.”

“What’s that?” Enid said
, pointing to a door that had a “Not in Session’ sign.

Tweaker made a face, “
One of the requirements of you ‘having the privilege’ of staying here is you have to do one assigned chore every day, go to class and go to your weekly therapy session with
Dr. Dick
. Believe me, it ain’t worth missing.”

“Why?”

“Your parents dead – or they just not want you?” Tweaker said abruptly.

Enid started. She hadn’t thought about her mother since last night. For the first time, she felt a stab of guilt. She had a mother – none of these girls had a mother – or at least, if they did, their mother didn’t want them – and they knew it.

“My mom’s a drunk,” Enid said.

“She alive?”

Enid hesitated. “No.”

“You have a dad?”

Enid made a face, unsure how to answer.

“Me too. Unknown sperm donor.”

Enid smiled uneasily.

Footsteps sounded from down the hall.

Tweaker hissed,
“Dr. Dick.”

Enid turned to see a man in his forties striding toward them. He was dressed in a light summer suit and Enid was caught by his manner of walking. It reminded Enid of the way Dusty Russell swaggered around the playground after recess, bragging about how he got to second base with Louise Jenkins behind the middle school garbage bins.

“Enid Smith? I’ve been looking for you. Mrs. Hobbs gave me your paperwork. How are you settling in?” He stopped in front of them and gave them what Enid could only describe as a “rat-eyeballing-bacon” smile.

Enid glanced at the front entrance that was only a sprint distance away.

“This way,” He gestured toward the door. Enid turned to Tweaker, but she was gone.

“Follow me,” he said.

Enid hesitated, but entered. She stopped, staring in astonishment at his office, which was as plush as the rest of the school was spartan. From the deep swag of the carpet that seemed to gobble up her feet to the heavy burgundy velvet blinds to what Enid recognized as a fainting couch – the place gave her the heebie-jeebies.

“I’m Doctor Pearce. We’re going to be meeting once a week. Have a seat.” He gestured her toward a couch that looked vaguely lewd.