Found Dead in the Red Head Page 10

  The girl came outside and stepped down the steps. The dogs meandered away, but laid so they could see the truck. Passing them, she clucked at the dogs and they meandered off, keeping an eye on the truck.

  “Here goes.” Teddy muttered as she stopped at his window and asked, “Y’all cops?”

  Up close she was considerably older than a girl with missing teeth and had track marks on her forearms.

  “Nope. We’re looking for a Studebaker. Heard you got one—”

  “Ah-hah. Don’t know about that. You gotta talk to Freddy. He does the cars. He don’t sell many. No money in it.” She sniffed, rubbing her nose and glancing back at the house.

  Fanny floated toward us. As she neared the dogs their hackles rose, and cowering they peeled back away from her.

  She popped through the truck door and settled between us. “Gahd! There’s an old woman inside watching. She told her to get rid of us.”

  Get rid made my hackles rise. On this wicked property, there were plenty of spots to hide a body which would never be found again.

  I whispered, “Ask her if Gretchen will see us. Tell her we know where Bangor is. We can visit on the porch.” There was no way I’d enter the Floyd shack.

  “Gretchen home? I noticed an old car is missing back by the road. What’s up with that?”

  She looked down. “Thought you wasn’t a cop.”

  “Not anymore. I’m looking for Bangor. He here?”

  Her expression said everything. She got up on her tiptoes, putting a hand on the door. “That’s my boy. We ain’t seen him in days. He was picking… stealing parts from Gretchen. He ain’t been home in a while.”

  “You haven’t seen him?”

  “Naw. I’m getting worked up, though.” She kept her head down and back turned to the house.

  “What’s Gretchen thinking?” Teddy rubbed his stubble.

  “Dunno. She’s been watching the news. Thinking somebody killed him. Getting mixed up with Belly like that. Man’s nothing but trouble.” She tsked, shaking her head and pulling a flattened pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. She put a stick in her mouth, but her hands shook so hard she couldn’t lite the cigarette.

  Teddy glanced at me, and I lifted an eyebrow. Either she’s a great actress, or she’s really worried about her child. I know how she feels. Even with Ally’s return, I’m still unsure about her next move. Will she be gone when I get home to the condo tonight?

  “So, she’s heard about the murder. About Belly.”

  On the porch, the screen door creaked open, catching my attention. If the woman was Gretchen poking her head out, she stayed hidden in the shadows.

  Bangor’s mother looked her way. “Yeah? What? No, they ain’t cops. Go back inside.”

  She waved off the older woman talking to Teddy without looking at him. “Write this down—501-670-4875.”

  He grabbed a pen on the dashboard and wrote the number on the back of his hand. “If I find ‘em, I’ll let you know. Okay.”

  “Yeah. Don’t come back out here. It ain’t safe.” She turned without saying goodbye.

  He engaged the gears, flipped the truck around, gave it too much gas, spinning dirt under its wheels but pulled out of a fishtail. In the side-view mirror, I watched the dogs walk calmly up the road, but then they sat curling their tails watching our retreat.

  “Guess something spooked them.” I glanced through Fanny at Teddy.

  “The dogs?” He asked, shifting into a higher gear.

  Fanny glimmered. “I set them hounds straight. They’ll never bark at a soul again.”

  Giving the dogs another glance, I answered, “We’re so badass, we put the fear into them. Now, they’re worthless junkyard dogs.”

  Chapter 20

  Let’s Make a Deal

  When we pulled up behind the Row, thankfully Sandy’s car was gone.

  “I’m bushed. Not going inside.” Fanny flickered out leaving the truck and floating through the Row’s brick wall.

  “Sure. I understand. It’s past Miller time.” He’s always late for a date with a beer.

  He ignored my remark. “Listen. We’ll find Bangor. When we do, we’ll sort out this mystery. I’m ninety percent certain it’s something to do with the missing car.”

  “It was odd, wasn’t it? And moved recently.”

  “Yeah. That girly avoided the topic.”

  “She was no girly.”

  “True.”

  We stared out the windshield until Teddy broke the silence. “I gotta think. There was money in an old car, or that spot wouldn’t have been so conspicuous.”

  I popped open the truck door. “I’ve got so much on my mind. I need… time alone to process everything.”

  “I hear ya. Have a good one.” He shifted into reverse, and I climbed down from the truck.

  “Bye.” I shut the truck door, but was sad to see him go. He was good company even if his one flaw was his love affair with beer.

  Outside my condo door, I gathered myself before I put the key into the lock.

  Long ago, I loved watching Let’s Make a Deal and was entertained when the contestants made a bad deal. Odds were always against them, and tonight I wasn’t prepared for what I might find behind my door.

  Plastering on a big smile, I unlocked the door. “How’s my sweethearts?”

  Saying sweethearts helped make the situation real.

  “Mom! Where have you been?” Ally came down the hall. “When did you get rid of your house phone?” She stamped her foot like she’d taken disgust lessons from Sandy. Her heavy dreadlocks rocked around her shoulders. Should I enact new household rules and insist she cut off those awful things?

  “I haven’t had one in years. Why didn’t you replace your broken cellphone?” I set my purse on the antique Singer sewing machine I used as a foyer table.

  “I didn’t want certain people to have my phone number.”

  “Like who?”

  “You know, people people.”

  I headed to my bedroom without making rules. I must remember Ally was no longer a child, she’s a mother and an adult, she doesn’t need me to mother her.

  “I’ve got to change clothes.” Even though I hadn’t gotten out of Teddy’s truck, I felt dirty like those junkyard dogs rubbed off on me. “I’m getting a shower.”

  Usually, in the evening, I only changed from my work clothes without showering. Murder was a dirty business, and I couldn’t go to bed wearing Floyd cooties.

  Ally stood outside the closed bedroom door. “Mom! We have things to talk about.”

  “I know. Sugar, give me a few minutes.”

  Instead of showering, I filled the bathtub with hot water. For all our the fancy products, there wasn’t a sliver of fancy soap or a bath bomb setting beside my tub.

  When I bought the condo, they offered me upgrade choices. Unfortunately, the spa tub wasn’t within my budget, and but now, the price didn’t seem so steep. I could use some bubbling jetted water and salt scrubs to clean off today’s scum. Two votive candles sat on the vanity, and I lit them for ambiance before I slipped into the warm water. Laying down with my chin in the water, I dunked my head and scrubbed my scalp with my fingertips.

  Ally found my phone because I heard her talking. Hopefully, she called her dad to tell him the news and chastising her about not keeping him in the loop wouldn’t work. Dalhart and I discussed her missing-in-action act, but we never guessed she was covering up an unplanned pregnancy.

  Was it unplanned? Or was she plotting to reenter Walker’s life? What if Allison wasn’t Walker’s child? She could’ve been mistaken. Shouldn’t she have DNA tests done to prove his rights to claim her? Thinking my daughter plotted to conceive a child to get a man back was disheartening. It would be a deceitful ploy, and I won’t condone such bad behavior.

  Her plot might have worked if Belly hadn’t died. On the heels of such tragedy, Walker wasn’t prepared to learn he was a father so suddenly.

  “Stop it!” I created a scenario, worryi
ng senselessly and distrusting Ally.

  Sandy’s pessimism affected me in more ways than just teaching me to stomp my foot.

  In a way, Ally’s secret keeping was exactly the way I acted. I keep secrets. I told her about my fall, but I couldn’t tell her I could see dead people. Come to think of it, having a secret baby wasn’t nearly as bad as befriending a needy, troublesome ghost.

  Allison was real. Soon, she will work her way into our hearts and we’ll forget how she came into the world. None of that mattered, and I worried needlessly about what other people might think.

  Fanny wasn’t real—so to speak. Still, I couldn’t entirely be certain I wasn’t brain damaged and hallucinating her image, our conversations and the trouble she caused. Poking people, especially the people I don’t particularly like, in their derrières with a sharp needle satisfied my own urges to keep them in line. Fanny could just be my alter ego acting out my repressed aggression.

  I stayed in the tub until the water cooled and my fingertips wrinkled.

  Dressed in pajamas and a robe, I found soup bubbling on the stovetop in the kitchen.

  “It’s canned.” Ally said, brandishing my phone. “Thought we’d eat together like a regular family.”

  For months I’d complained, missing my close-knit little family, and for all my angst about Ally’s motives, it was good to have her back.

  “How’s the baby… Allison?”

  “She’s super. I wish she’d sleep at night.”

  I nodded, remembering those short-lived times when Ally cried all night. It wasn’t long before she was a chubby toddler, chattering nonsense and going out the doggie door.

  Our wiener dog, Fonzie, was old by the time Craig and Ally arrived, but it didn’t take him long to fall in love with them. I miss having a dog, but my third-floor condo wasn’t conducive to walking a puppy during those awful training months.

  “She will sleep all night soon enough. Time will fly.”

  “Gee, I hope so. I can’t cope with so little sleep.”

  I wanted to say wait until she runs away from home with a man, if you think you can’t cope now.

  “You’re doing great. Don’t fret.” Suddenly famished I reached for two soup bowls. “Get the crackers. There’s cheese in there.” I nodded at the fridge as I spooned soup into the bowls.

  After I finished eating, I sat back in my chair. “Have you called your father?”

  Ally rolled her eyes. “Yes. I called him on Anita’s phone. Yesterday. He’s coming in a week or so. Said he’d let me know.”

  I nodded without comment. The less I pressured her, the better our adjustment period would be. I wanted more details about why she risked having a baby in Jason’s van, but I wouldn’t push her buttons now.

  “How’s Anita?” I asked, since Ally was avoiding the topic of Belly’s death and accidentally seeing Walker.

  “Grouchy. She thinks you’re overworked and in over your head investigating another murder.”

  Any murder was too much, but both threw me for a loop. I wouldn’t rest until I knew who killed Belly. “I don’t think so. It’s just stressful. With all the extra worries....”

  She huffed back in the chair knowing I meant my worries over her whereabouts.

  “She says you do all the work at the Row. That’s not fair. I don’t know why you went into business with that mean old woman. I can’t stand being in the same room with her.”

  I picked up my bowl. “Lots of people don’t like her. Once you get past her brusque exterior, inside she’s a mushy marshmallow."

  I couldn’t avoid talking about Walker. “Walker asked about you today?”

  I ran water over my bowl, washing the dregs of chicken broth and a carrot I didn’t eat into the garbage disposal, waiting for her response.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t face him, not right then. I should’ve though, with Belly dead.”

  Sponging off the counter, I thought carefully about what to say next. “I think... you made the... right choice. He’s in a bad spot. Later... we’ll... you can tell him.”

  “I feel bad for not being there for him... I mean... I do love him. What did he say?”

  Her tone lifted an octave, but I sighed because at that moment I felt tired. “He only wanted to know if you were safe, and I said yes.”

  “Okay.” She carried her bowl to the sink.

  “I’m so tired. Why don’t we call it a night?”

  She asked, “You didn’t go to the doctor, did you?”

  Out of habit, I washed her bowl. We’re both having difficulties with communicating or issues.

  “I’m worried about you. Sandy told me you talk nonsense. Answering questions that nobody asks.”

  That Sandy, she’ll never give up wanting me to go to the doctor. “I didn’t go because it as only a bump.”

  “Yeah, but you’re an old lady. Stuff like that can kill a person your age.”

  I rinsed the bowl and put it onto the drain rack. “Thanks a lot. You should get me a lift chair and a walker.” I had plenty of life left in me, despite what she thinks.

  She squeezed my waist laying hugging me. “Oh, Mom, you know I’m teasing.”

  I kissed her head. “I know. I used to tease my mom all the time. Remember?”

  “Uh-huh. She loved it.” She and my mother doted on each other. “She’d be so pleased with Allison.”

  “I know. I miss her, don’t you?”

  “Yes, immensely.”

  From the other room, Allison fussed. “Oh, there’s your wake-up call.”

  Proud of myself, I reached for a cup towel to dry my hands, I hadn’t begged her to cut her hair.

  Ally clamped her hands over her breasts. “Dang, I’ve so full of milk, I’m overflowing.”

  Chapter 21

  Ralph

  I slept soundly knowing Ally was safe in the spare bedroom.

  Padding around early, before the sun came up, I made coffee and sat in my overstuffed chair with my tablet. Pulling up the Sentinel’s webpage, I scanned for blaring headlines accusing someone of Belly’s murder. There wasn’t one, and that was good news. Dick hadn’t found enough evidence to arrest Walker. I’d crossed him off my list of suspects even if Dick tried to throw me off track.

  Searching deeper, I read Monday’s arrest beat but only found the usual. Breaking and entering, purse snatching—in our touristy little town purse snatchers work the racetrack and Central Avenue regularly—several DUIs and drug arrests, but Bangor Floyd’s name wasn’t on the list.

  That wasn’t unusual—if he killed Belly—the Floyd gang spirited him away so deeply his own mother doesn’t know his whereabouts. That’s heartbreaking even if she’s a Floyd.

  Hours later, after I spent a good time cuddling and bonding with Allison while Ally showered and dressed, I arrived at the Row semi-refreshed.

  Fanny appeared wearing her hazy grayscale before I hung my jacket on a hook. “It’s about time you came to work.”

  I wasn’t ready for Fanny’s dark, moody behavior. “How are you today?” Plainly, I could see how she felt. “What’s up?”

  “Gangsters, that’s what! You should’ve been here last night.”

  “Why?” My imagination quickly conjured different scenarios. “Who looked in the windows last night?”

  Was Mike Claiborne trying to snap another photo for the newspaper? I haven’t seen him since he showed me Fanny’s image he had captured. I’m grateful he hadn’t tried to blackmail me for more money.

  Maybe it was a Floyd? No telling what they’re thinking or planning?

  “No. Don’t I wish? I had a bad night.”

  “Tell me about it.” She’d tell me even if I didn’t ask. Fanny’s got gab and she can’t contain it. I bet when she was alive she gossiped with girlfriends who spread rumors about their underground connections. In the gangster world, you’re only as good as what you know about your friends and enemies.

  “Last night, I ran into Ralph, Frank Nitti’s brother?” She paced, changing i
nto happier colors.

  “Never heard of him?” I glanced at the printed web orders setting on the corner of the workbench, then noticed the new coffeemaker. “Guess Sandy bought a new coffeemaker.”

  “You don’t care, do you?” Fanny floated, pacing behind me. “I’m telling you, I’ve had bad news.”

  “Of course, I care. I have too much going on right now.”

  Avoiding anymore bad news, I took a moment to examine the new coffeemaker. It was an off-off brand pod-type, I didn’t recognize. Sandy’s always frugal when buying supplies for the shop.

  “Who was he?” If I didn’t ask, she’d tell me.

  “Last night I went to the Southern Club and his brother, Ralph was there. Odd thing I haven’t seen him there before. Ralph said Frank knew what happened to Willie.”

  I looked back from filling the new coffeemaker’s water container. “So, you went out partying last night.”

  “Gahd. I did. I needed to blow off steam.”

  I nodded understanding how she’d feel anxious after her visit to the junkyard. “Okay. So, he mentioned Willie? Isn’t that good news?”

  Sandy also bought several packs of coffee pods, and I put a dark roast pod in the machine, and set a cup in the cup holder. Marginally, I understood how the machine worked, but hadn’t ever used one.

  “He said Frank gave my boy to a woman he knew in Chicago.”

  That statement made me glance up. She fluttered in her worried golden yellow, and I asked, “Chicago? Like adopted?”

  “Like as a houseboy. A servant.”

  “What? No way.”

  During the twenties, and especially during the depression after the stock market crash, unless taken in by family members, an orphaned child’s prospects were slim. Sent to Chicago to work as a servant didn’t sound terrible and was probably better than living on the streets of Hot Springs.

  “I trust Ralph. He was a big fellow who needed more yardage, but he paid his bills.”

  “So, Ralph, Frank Nitti’s brother, said they spirited Willie away to Chicago.” I fiddled with the coffeemaker buttons, but nothing happened. “Dang these newfangled contraptions.”