Murder With All the Trimmings (8 page)

“The area looks good,” Nate said.

“Believe it or not, Maplewood has become hip,” Josie said.

“I believe it. It’s like a small town in the middle of a big city.”

Ruley’s was an old-fashioned tavern, with a pool table, a pinball machine, and beer cases piled almost to the ceiling. Regiments of booze glowed in the backbar mirrors. A fat bartender wearing a stretched-out T-shirt was polishing glasses. An old man dozed on a barstool. He was the only customer.

The sun lit the dust-filmed windows, and Josie saw that her nice neighborhood place was sliding into a dive. The old tin ceiling was yellow with grease. The bathroom doors had dog silhouettes marked POINTERS and SETTERS. The air was scented with sour beer and Pine-Sol.

Nate and Josie took a battered table in the corner. The large, brassy-haired waitress said, “What can I get you, hon?”

“A draft Bud,” Nate said.

“Coke for me,” Josie said.

They both ordered cheeseburgers. “Lots of onions on mine,” Josie said, hoping that would kill any lingering thoughts of romance.

It didn’t. As soon as the waitress disappeared through the kitchen door, Nate pulled out the blue Tiffany & Co. box and handed it to Josie.

“Open it,” Nate said.

Inside was a diamond and platinum Elsa Peretti teardrop necklace, so finely made it was like a miniature sculpture. Josie did enough mystery-shopping to know she was looking at ten thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

The necklace glowed in the dingy bar.

“Put it on,” Nate said. “I want to see how beautiful you look wearing it.”

Josie carefully closed the velvet-lined box and said, “Nate, I can’t accept it. I’m seeing someone else. I’m serious about him.”

She handed back the box.

“And what does that mean for us?” Nate asked. He finished half a beer in one gulp.

Us? Josie thought. There hasn’t been any “us” for a decade. You didn’t even send me a letter in all that time. You never called. You just disappeared. In the dark bar, she could see vestiges of the man she had once loved, but Josie was a different woman now, too worldly-wise to fall for Nate again.

“We’ve both moved on, Nate,” Josie said gently. “We’re different people now. We live in different countries. Let’s stay friends for the sake of our daughter.”

“You mean the daughter I just found out about?” Nate had a belligerent edge to his voice. He downed the beer and signaled for a second one.

Josie hoped the waitress had tunnel vision. But the woman put another cold glass near Nate’s hand. Nate drank it in two gulps.

“Remember when we flew to New York?” Nate asked. “It was a day almost like this one.”

Josie dreaded playing “remember when.” But now it all came flooding back. In her mind’s eye, she saw Nate the way he was then: young and strong, before alcohol ruined him. It was a crisp fall St. Louis morning, and they were walking in Forest Park. The grand old trees were a blaze of orange and yellow and the sky was china blue. Josie was crunching dry leaves.

“What a gorgeous day,” Josie had said.

“Not as gorgeous as you,” Nate had said, and kissed her.

“Oh, Nate, I know what I am,” Josie had said. “I’m no
Vogue
model. I’m plain old Josie.”

But Nate was in one of his reckless moods. “You’re not plain,” he’d told her. “Not by a long shot. You need to be treated like a
Vogue
model. Let’s go to New York for dinner at the Four Seasons.”

And so they did. Josie made a quick phone call to her mother and told her she’d be home late. Josie didn’t add that they were going to New York. She didn’t want to hear the “you’re heading for trouble, young woman” lecture again. Jane disapproved, but she always disapproved

Josie and Nate were in Manhattan by three that afternoon, and Nate took Josie on a shopping spree.

“You always thought you were plain,” Nate said, bringing her back to the present. “I never understood that.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Nate, there’s nothing distinctive about me. It’s why I make a good mystery shopper. I can melt into the crowd as Mrs. Ordinary.”

“That’s not how I remember it. You were worried you didn’t have a dress for dinner. I bought you that black dress in Manhattan. You were a knockout.”

Josie looked around the dingy neighborhood bar and couldn’t believe she was the same woman who’d run off for a magical night in Manhattan. She still remembered the dazzling interior of the Four Seasons, with its mid-century spaciousness. Nate had whispered in her ear, “Did you see that fat guy by the window? His eyes are bugging out, staring at you in that dress.
Vogue
should be so lucky.”

Josie did notice. She also noticed that Nate ordered a steak that cost more than her poly-sci textbook. Nate paid cash for their meal and their suite at the Pierre Hotel, but that barely registered. Josie was bewitched.

The magic was gone when she arrived back in St. Louis. Jane was waiting at home, arms crossed, body bristling with indignation. She immediately spotted Josie’s dress bag.

“So, you let a man buy you expensive clothes like a kept woman,” Jane had said. “I bet you were drinking, too.”

“Only wine,” Josie said.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” Jane had said. “Only wine. You broke your engagement to a good, decent man so you could live like a drunken tart.”

“I broke up with Andy because he was boring. He loved his job better than he loved me,” Josie said.

“All men are like that,” Jane said. “The rest will leave you in the lurch.”

“Like my father left you?” Josie said.

Jane slapped her daughter.

“I’m young and I want to have fun,” Josie had screamed at her mother. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Josie?” Nate said. “Did you hear me? I said I’m talking to a lawyer about Amelia. I want to know why you didn’t contact me when you had her.”

“Because you were in jail,” Josie said, raising her voice.

The old man sleeping on the barstool woke up, blinking.

“Don’t be angry, baby. It wasn’t my fault,” Nate said.

It’s never your fault, Josie thought, but she didn’t say it. “You were arrested for drug dealing,” Josie said, lowering her voice.

“But my lawyer got me out. I’m innocent.” He batted his eyes. He looked guilty as all get-out.

“Nate, yesterday you said you got your money selling drugs. How did you get out of jail?”

“Medical marijuana is legal now in Canada. They even have a marijuana spray called Sativex. One of my clients had multiple sclerosis and took marijuana for the pain. I gave her the weed free. She testified that I helped her feel better.”

“Really?” Josie said. “So you weren’t selling drugs. You were doing charity work.”

“I did help people,” Nate said. Again his voice had that nasty edge. “I don’t know how my lawyer did it, but I’m free. I contacted my old friends in St. Louis. They told me I had a daughter. I didn’t hear that from you. Amelia’s a cutie. She has my hair and nose. No need for any DNA tests.”

His nose? Not anymore, Josie thought. She tried not to stare at his drink-ruined nose. She prayed that Amelia’s elegant nose would never look like her father’s tumorous honker.

“Why this sudden interest in your daughter?” Josie said. “Haven’t you been out of prison a year?”

“Two years,” Nate said. “I was serious about someone, and she didn’t want children. So I had a vasectomy. Now the urologist isn’t sure it can be reversed, and my father wants grandchildren.”

Hot anger flared through Josie. Nate didn’t love Amelia. He was trying to avoid surgery with a ready-made child. Typical drunk’s selfishness. She tried to remember her mother’s advice to be nice to him for Amelia’s sake.

Nate produced a box wrapped in Christmas paper from his leather jacket. “Here’s another present for my girls,” he said. “Waitress, another beer.”

The waitress brought it before Josie gingerly unwrapped the box. Inside was a stack of U.S. currency. Josie looked at the hefty denominations and did some quick calculating. She thought there was nearly ten thousand dollars cash in the box. The money smelled slightly moldy.

While she examined the cash, Nate pounded down his third beer and ordered a fourth. The waitress brought it without comment.

“Where did you get this money?” Josie demanded.

“I had it around,” he said.

“That’s what you kept in that storage unit by the airport,” Josie said. “Cash and drugs. Look at the dates on this money. It’s ten years old at least. You didn’t come back to see me or your daughter. You came to pick up your drug money. You have to pay your lawyer.” She stopped herself before she added,
so you can steal my daughter.

“Josie, how can you say that?” Nate said. He gulped the fourth beer like it was cold water on a hot afternoon.

“Because you are a drunk and a liar,” Josie said.

“That’s harsh,” Nate said. His voice wavered as if he were about to cry.

“Here you go, hon.” The waitress put two plates of burgers and fries in front of them. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Ketchup,” Josie said.

“Another beer,” Nate said. His voice was slightly slurred.

That made five beers in less than fifteen minutes. Josie was seething. Nate was starting another binge. She waited until the waitress left, then said, “You’re still selling drugs, aren’t you?”

“Why would you say that?” Nate asked. He didn’t deny her charge.

“You’re throwing money around,” Josie said. “Ten thousand dollars on a necklace for me. Ten thousand in cash. Dealers never believe drug money is real. You think the supply is endless.”

She handed him back the money with regret. She still had feelings for the young man she’d loved. She missed his wildness, his unpredictability. Now her life revolved around her work and Amelia’s school. There was no time to rush off to Manhattan for dinner.

“Josie, think of everything you could give Amelia with this,” Nate said. “And yourself. Your home could use some sprucing up. You could buy a decent used car. Your daughter is embarrassed she doesn’t have as much money as the other girls in her school.”

“My car is fine,” Josie said. “We’re fine. Amelia will survive without a sixty-dollar hoodie. She needs a sober father with a decent job. The other kids’ parents are lawyers, doctors, and business owners. They can say how they make their money. You can’t. I won’t let my daughter live on drug money.”

“She’s my daughter, too,” Nate said. “My money spends like any other cash. Do you think those doctors and lawyers make only honest money? All money is dirty, Josie.” He gulped down the fifth beer and signaled for a sixth.

“This cash has blood on it,” Josie said.

“Whoa,” Nate said. “Aren’t we dramatic?” He fanned a stack of fifties. “See, no blood. Just a little dust. Let’s go back to your place and be friends, huh? Get reacquainted?”

“No,” Josie said. “It’s over, Nate. I’m sorry it turned out like this, but we can’t see each other anymore.”

“Aw, come on, Josie. Don’t be like this.”

“I have to get back.” Josie stood up, threw some money on the table, and began walking toward the door.

“Josie, don’t do this,” Nate said.

“Good-bye,” she said. “I’m sorry, Nate.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. “But you will be when I get through with you.”

Josie tried to hold her head high as the bartender, the waitress, and the old man at the bar stared her out the door.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.

“Another beer,” Nate said defiantly. He was so loud, Josie could hear.

She nearly cried. Nate had made his choice.

Chapter 9

Josie took the side streets home, stomping through the dry leaves in the gutter. She crushed sycamore leaves, big as dinner plates. Josie took a childish pleasure in their rustling crackle. A beer can blocked her way, and she gave it a swift kick into the street.

She wished she’d kicked Nate instead.

Josie argued with Nate in her head all the way home:

Threaten me, will you, you worthless drunk? You’ll be sorry. If you loved me so much, why didn’t you call me ten years ago when you were arrested? You’ve been out of jail two years. You’ve had plenty of time to contact me. You could have called before you showed up drunk on my doorstep. But no, you just reappeared, after a decade. Now that you can’t have a child, you want mine. You’re ready to resume our romance as if nothing happened.

Mostly Josie was mad at herself. How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I see a lawyer to ensure I had custody of Amelia? Now I could lose my little girl.
My.
She is no longer our daughter, Josie thought. Amelia was
hers
. Any memories of the tender lover she’d had ten years ago were burned away by her anger. She realized how little she knew about Nate. When did he become a hopeless drunk? Did he have an alcohol problem when they were dating? Josie didn’t know.