Some Degree of Murder (3 page)

To hell with it,
I thought, and walked toward the door.

I needed some coffee and Rolaids.

I sat at the writing desk in my hotel room, a small cup of coffee steamed in front of me. From the inside pocket of my jacket, I pulled out a long, white envelope. Inside was a newspaper article with a hand-written phone number on the corner. I dialed the number and closed my eyes while the phone rang.

On the fourth ring, she picked up. “Hello?”

Her voice was close in proximity but distant in familiarity.

“Do you know who this is?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the heating unit in the room.

“I’m in town now.”

Her breathing skipped a beat and then returned to normal. “Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky.

I wanted to say something to ease her pain or comfort her, but too much time had passed for anything deep or meaningful to be said.

“I’ll be in touch.”

When I cradled the phone, I opened my eyes. With a single press of a button, I called the concierge desk and ordered a taxi.

The cabbie leaned his head slightly out of the rolled down window of his Chrysler. “You sure you don’t want me to wait?”

With a quick glance, I saw him watching me as I opened my wallet to pay the fare. I finished counting out several bills and stuffed them in to his hand.

“I’m fine,” I said
.

The cabbie nodded his head, disappointed at the lost fare of the return trip.

The old Chrysler LeBaron turned around in the driveway of the cemetery, its fan belt squealing loudly. When he stopped at the entrance to wait for passing traffic, I realized the cab leaned to the right. I smiled at that because I thought his seat was higher than mine throughout the drive.

My smile faded when I turned around.

“Your mom sent me the article,” I said to her. “I feel kind of stupid doing this, but since I never got the chance to talk to you before I figured I’d take it now.”

A warm breeze blew in from the south and the trees near us rustled in the wind.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. We thought it was best that I stayed out of the picture. I figured I’d spare you that bad father baggage. Some people say a bad father is better than no father, but those people
don’t know what they’re talking about.”

The sounds of traffic whirred and wheezed by as we continued our conversation.

“I hated my father. He was a real bastard. I learned to fight from him, though. A kid can only take getting smacked around for so long before he stands up and speaks up for himself. When I finally challenged him, he beat the piss out of me and smacked me around for a couple of more years. Then the day came when I hit him back hard enough that he never hit me again. That’s when I learned what I was good at.”

I glanced around the cemetery and saw an old, white-haired woman brushing off the top of a headstone.

“Your mom, she tried to keep me up to date on what you were doing. I sent her money every month for you and she always sent pictures of you. She never wrote anything, just the pictures. You were so beautiful the day you graduated sixth grade. I loved the little yellow dress you wore. It had blue flowers all over it. I really would have liked to have seen you that day.”

I knelt down in front of her headstone and brushed the top of it with my fingers.

“I wish I could have saved you. But that’s not my life. I don’t think I’ve ever saved anybody. I’ve ruined a lot of people, but never saved just one.”

My finger traced the outline of her name. “I promise you, like I promised your mother; I’ll find who did this to you. Then I’ll do what I do best.”

“Tough
day fighting crime?” Teri asked.

I closed the front door behind me and slid the deadbolt home. I couldn’t always tell with her if she was sincere or sarcastic. The two gears were about an inch apart.

“Long,” I said. “You?”

“Well, school was a pain, but Ben’s in a good mood. No whining at all.”

“Good.” Ben rarely whines, but when he does, he makes it into an Olympic Sport.

“You need me tomorrow, right?”

I nodded. “After school, and then into the evening. If you want, you can crash here if it gets late.”

“I have a paper I need to work on.”

“You can use my computer.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You let me use it for my English paper last month. It’s ancient. It’s running, like, Windows 1962.”

I shrugged. “Use Ben’s then.”

She laughed. “When? He’s on it from dawn to dusk. And he doesn’t even have to take potty breaks, so there’s no chance at all. You know, if computer screens give out cancer rays, he won’t live to fifteen.”

“Then buy a laptop,” I snapped. “It’s not like I don’t pay you enough.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes. Then hurt. Then anger.

I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack behind the door.

“Where did that come from?” she asked.

I ignored her, walked to the fridge and pulled the door open. Two Kokanees left. I grabbed one and twisted the top off.

“John? What’s wrong?”

I took a pull from the bottle and counted to ten. Then I turned to her.

“Don’t talk about Ben like he’s a monster.”

She cocked her head to her side. “John, I was joking. Ben’s a great kid.”

“It didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded like bitching.”

“Bitching? Like what you said about money wasn’t?”

I didn’t answer right away.

She forged ahead. “I know I cost a lot. I know money is tight with the divorce. But I’m not just some glorified babysitter. I work hard for you and I take good care of Ben. And I don’t cost as much as—“

“I’m sorry.”

She stopped and looked at me. “Okay. Then what’s wrong?”

I shrugged. “Long day, is all. And no wife to yell at when I get home. Sorry.”

Teri gave me a look. I couldn’t tell if it was confusion or pity.

“You eat at all?”

“No. I was just about to make Ben some Mac and Cheese before you came home.”

“Stay, then. I’ll cook. You can eat with us.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “All right. I have to work on some math, though.”

“Well, I won’t be any help there. Fear of math is what kept me from going to college.”

That got her to smile just a little. I went into my bedroom and shed my shoulder holster, badge, cuffs and ID card. As always, the pager, my electronic leash, remained on my belt. I thought about changing clothes, but one look at the clock changed my mind. I’d just be undressing again in a couple hours to go to sleep.

I walked down the hall to Ben’s room. He sat in front of his computer, moving the mouse deliberately and clicking. I watched him for a minute before he noticed me.

“Hey, Uncle John.” He pressed a button and paused his game.

“Hey, kiddo. Whacha playing?”

“
Swords of the Eastern March.
”

“War game?”

He shook his head. “Nah. It’s a fantasy role-playing game. Pretty cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He rolled back from the desk and glided over to me in his wheelchair. I leaned down and gave him a hug. “You were gone a long time.”

I tousled his hair gently. “Got another hard case last night. Then I spent all day working on it.”

“Is it that girl they found?”

“How’d you know about that?”

“The TV news. I watch it at five with Teri.”

That surprised me. I didn’t know they watched the news.

“I see. You finish your homework?”

He gave me a look only twelve year olds can. “Of course.”

Back in the kitchen, I put some hamburger in a skillet and browned it. I found one tomato and some lettuce, but no green onions. I sipped my Kokanee and chopped the vegetables while Teri sat at the kitchen table and did her math. She must have turned on the stereo, because John Mellencamp was singing about Jack and Diane from the living room. Twenty years old and she listens to classic rock. Hates rap. Votes Republican, even though she’s pro-choice. Takes good care of Ben and works the odd hours I need. And then I go and snap at her. Real smart.

I turned to grating cheese and stirring the meat. When it was ready, I added taco seasoning from a packet. I finished mixing it in, grabbed some crisp shells from the cupboard and called it good.

Teri helped set the table.

“Ben! Dinner!” I called.

A few moments later, he rolled into the dining room. “Tacos?”

“Yeah. My specialty.”

Ben smiled. “It’s all you can make.”

“That’s why it’s my specialty. Besides, I make other stuff.”

Teri and Ben both gave me a look. I ignored them and finished putting the food on the table.

“Toast doesn’t count,” Ben said.

“Cold cereal, either,” Teri added.

“Great,” I told them both. “Go ahead and perpetuate that good cop/bad cook stereotype. Why don’t you just make a donut joke while you’re at it?”

Ben was smiling as he made his taco. I thought Teri was, too, though it was hard to tell through her glasses and tight lips.

Maybe she’s one of those people who smiles on the inside, I thought. Mellencamp started singing
Human Wheels
. She must have put in the Greatest Hits CD.

“You get your math done?” I asked her, putting a taco together.

“Most of it. It’s kinda hard.” She scooped meat into her shell.

The telephone rang. I looked at it hanging on the wall just inside the kitchen and hesitated. I was done with on-call now that the weekend was over, but if they had a call-out and couldn’t reach the on-call detective, they started walking down the list. It was hard to believe they’d get all the way down to me now that I was at the bottom again, but you never knew.

I got up and answered. “Hello?”

“John? It’s me.”

Stephanie. Great.

“What do you want?” I walked around the corner from the dining room and deep into the kitchen, stretching out the cord.

“You don’t have to be rude,” she said.

“I’m not being rude. Just direct.”

“No, it’s rude.”

“What do you want, Stephanie? You didn’t call to teach me phone etiquette.”

“I wanted to remind you to send my check.”

“I sent it to you right after I got my first paycheck this month. You didn’t get it?”

“I did. I mean the check from this coming paycheck.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m serious. You get paid this Friday. I checked at the credit union.”

“So what? I don’t have to pay you again until the 31
st
. It’s in the divorce decree.”

“John, you get paid every two weeks and this is a three pay-period month. You get paid on the first, the fifteenth and the twenty-ninth. You need to pay alimony out of every check. You get a third check, I get a third check.”

Unbelievable. “That’s not what the decree says.”
“It
is
what the decree says.”

“You want me to go pull it out and fucking read it to you?” I raised my voice.

“Don’t curse at me.”

“It says twice a month. On the 15
th
and the last day of the month.” I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. “I read the fucking papers, Stephanie.”

“I said, don’t curse at me. It’s crude.”

I wanted to scream every curse word I’d ever learned at her.

“Don’t try to con me,” I said.

“I just want what is rightfully mine,” she said. “Are you going to send a check or do I need to call my attorney?”

I ground my teeth and said nothing.

“John? What’s it to be?”

I opened my mouth and closed it before I let the words slip out. I forced them back down and tried to remember Stephanie before the divorce. Tried to remember her smile. Her hands on my face. Making love in the mornings. How she was with Ben right after the accident.

None of it worked. All I could see was her bitter face and her hand extended out. Pay me.

“Go ahead and call your lawyer,” I said and hung up.

When I walked back into the dining room, Ben and Teri eyed me carefully as I slammed the receiver into the cradle. Both returned to their meal and we all ate without a word. I tore into my second taco and finished my Kokanee in less than two minutes.

After my second taco, I was suddenly full. My stomach roiled from the previous night’s drunk and too much coffee all day. My eyes hurt from staring at reports all day long, none of which ended up having anything to do with my murder case. And now a Stephanie headache was starting.

Teri rose and put her plate in the sink. She gathered up her backpack and gave Ben a small wave. “See ya tomorrow.”

Ben waved back with his taco.

“Bye, John.”

“Bye.”

“Thanks for dinner,” she said and slipped out the back door. Ben ate quietly and I stared at my empty Kokanee bottle while we both listened to Teri’s Honda Accord start up and pull out into the alley, then drive away. Mellencamp began singing
Love and Happiness.

I rose and grabbed his plate and mine. I put them in the sink on top of Teri’s. Ben sat at the table, staring at the tablecloth. I grabbed the last Kokanee and sat back down at the table.

“You want one?” I asked him, twisting off the cap.

He shook his head, not taking the bait.

I sipped my Kokanee while he wheeled into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. I knew that when he was finished, I would need to help change him into some pajamas and lift him into bed. I thought about what I would say to him after tucking him in.

But when the time came, I kissed him on the top of his head and said, “Sleep well, buddy. See you in the morning.”

“Love you,” he said.

“You, too.”

I turned off his light and wished for more Kokanee, but the fridge was empty and I left it that way.