An Unacceptable Death - Barbara Seranella (2 page)

"
I thought I would surprise you." Ellen
stretched out every word in that Deep South drawl she'd perfected
over the years of living in California.

"
You did," Munch said. "You always
do."

"
We have got to talk, and I mean right now."

Munch could only imagine what Ellen had managed to
get herself mixed up in this time.

Ellen swept down to give Jasper some loving. "Where
is that other little rug rat of yours?"

"
We're out back, fixing to eat." Munch
heard her shift of cadence. A couple of hours with Ellen and she'd
have the accent too. "Come on." Few people understood why
Munch kept opening her door to Ellen. The two women had known each
other since puberty. Munch wouldn't have laid odds that they'd both
make thirty, but here they were. Ellen was even sober, too. Well,
most of the time. Munch didn't press the topic as long as Ellen
didn't come around loaded. Of course, she didn't come around all that
often either. Probably just as well. She was one of those people best
taken in small doses.

Ellen didn't set out to cause trouble everywhere she
went. Really she didn't. Ellen had been through the same wars Munch
had fought and survived. Ellen did more than survive, she still
maintained a sense of optimism. She'd taken her knocks, they all had.
It went with the make-it-up-as-you-go and try-not-to-die street life
they'd been born to. Ellen had helped make it fun.

The two women had learned early on to pop right back
up, usually with a laugh and a plan, and say, "Next." Even
at Ellen's dad's memorial service, when a pigeon shit all over her
black dress, she'd just glanced over and said, "Could have been
worse." Against all odds, her attitude carried her. Attitude was
nine-tenths of the battle, no matter what the skirmish.

Munch had pursued the life of drugs so hard that she
had been left, at twenty-two, with no viable options other than to
get completely clean and sober. It was that or prison or some other
institution. But more likely her fate would have been an unmarked
grave, and few left to mourn her. Ellen had always maintained a
modicum of control, never going completely over the edge, and still
had some mischief left in her.

Ellen was closer than blood. Ellen was family by
choice and history. Munch would never shut the door on her.

Munch led her out back. Rico was turned away from
them, tending the burgers and hot dogs. His hair was pulled back in a
small ponytail. Ellen appraised his backside and gave Munch the
thumbs-up.

"
Put another shrimp on the barbie, mate,"
she said in good approximation of an Australian accent.

Rico turned. It took him a few seconds to reach
Ellen's face. They recognized each other simultaneously. Their smiles
transformed into "Oh, it's you" expressions.

"
Ellen Summers," Rico said, sounding every
bit the cop.

"
Auntie Ellen!" Asia yelled and came
running into her arms.

"
How is my precious angel?" Ellen asked,
smoothing Asia's brown curls and tweaking her nose.

"
I've been very good lately," Asia said
with an eye on Ellen's big purse.

Ellen opened her bag and sifted through the twelve
pounds of beauty accessories and assorted paraphernalia she felt was
absolutely essential to carry with her everywhere. While she
searched, she cast another long look at Rico's clothes, hair, and
three-day growth of beard. "You working undercover or
something?"

"
What's your excuse?" Rico shot back.

"
Like I need one."

Before Rico could respond, Ellen produced a gift
wrapped in balloon-decorated paper and tied with a pink bow. She
handed the package to Asia, who tore into it immediately. It was a
book with a real silver-plated heart-shaped locket sealed in
cellophane in the cover.

"
Oh, thank you," Asia said. "It's
beautiful."

"
You will have to read me the story later,"
Ellen said. "I think it is time to eat."

"
Stick with the meat," Asia said, speaking
out the side of her mouth.

Before Ellen had a chance to crack wise, Munch
announced, "We've put in an offer on another house."

"
A bigger one," Asia added, "for all
of us."

"
Well, aren't we just the bourgeoises?"
Ellen said.

"
What does that mean?" Asia asked, always
annoyed when she felt adults were excluding her from the
conversation.

"
Nothing bad," Munch said. "Just that
we're moving up in the world. Owning more stuff and making more
money."

"
Oh." Asia shredded the plastic holding the
locket. "That's good."

She admired her new piece of jewelry. "When I
was little I used to think that when I grew up I would buy lots of
money."

Munch and Rico exchanged smiles.

"
What's your plan now?" Ellen asked.

Asia wrinkled her nose and nodded sagely. She had
obviously given this some thought. "I think I'll marry a
millionaire."

Munch choked back an outraged laugh and chucked her
farming efforts in the trash can. "I'1l go get the condiments."

"
You got any of the ribbed kind that glow in the
dark?" Ellen asked, following her to the kitchen.

Munch shook her head. "Behave yourself, will
you?" Even as she spoke, she realized she was chastising Ellen
for Rico's benefit. She wondered if either of them had picked up on
it and why was she always being forced to pick sides between the
people she loved.

Munch took another plate down from the cabinet.

Ellen arranged the slices of tomato, onion and cheese
on a platter, garnishing the outer ring with leaves of lettuce. The
girl did have her talents. Munch could spend an hour over the same
platter and not come up with anything half so pleasing to the eye.

Munch opened the refrigerator to retrieve the jars of
mayo, mustard and ketchup, discreetly flipping over her and Rico's
wedding invitation on the corkboard as she set them on the table. She
was still working on Rico's veto of Ellen on the guest list. "What
do you want to drink?"

"
What are my choices?" Ellen asked.

"
Coke, apple juice, milk, or water."

"
Milk, then."

Munch took out the carton. "They really glow in
the dark?"

"
Yes, indeed." Ellen marched an upright
banana across the kitchen table and sang out, "Here comes the
monster."

Munch laughed.

Ellen peeled the banana and took a bite. "So
things are getting pretty serious between you and Rico, huh?"

"
We've had the keys to each other's houses for
six months."

"
You going to get married?"

There it was. Trust Ellen to hit on the topic Munch
most hoped to avoid.

"
I saw your ring," Ellen said.

Well, duh, Munch thought. She'd forgot she was
wearing the tiny solitaire diamond on the delicate gold band that
Rico had given her a month ago. Guess Ellen didn't have to be
Sherlock to figure that one out. Munch held out her nicked-up,
grease-stained left hand. It wasn't as banged up as her right, but
the girly ring still looked odd on her finger.

"
I only wear it on weekends. I don't want it
getting messed up at work." Even now, the diamond setting
sported a strand of thread.

She pulled the pocket lint free. The ring was pretty,
but totally impractical.

"
So, have you set a date?" Ellen asked.

"
We're closing in on one. I'll let you know."
She hoped she wasn't lying. "So how's your love life?"

"
Nobody real special,
per
se
. I've been keeping my options open, if you
know what I mean."

"
Open options can be fun if you don't have a
little kid watching your every move."

"
Yeah, I can see how that might crimp a person's
style. Not that it isn't worth it."

"
You still have your condo?" Munch asked
the question casually, but what she was really trying to gauge was
how well Ellen was managing her inheritance. Both her parents had
died within a month of each other and Ellen had been their sole
beneficiary. Munch had worried that the windfall would be the end of
Ellen, that she'd go on the Cali Cartel diet until there was nothing
left of her.

"
I've got the condo, my car, and a money market
account earning nine-and-a-half percent interest. You don't have to
worry about me. This time it's you that needs worrying after."

"
How's that?"

"
The Pride is reorganizing, trying to get the
Venice chapter active again."

"
Great." The Pride was shorthand for the
Satan's Pride Motorcycle Club. Outlaw motorcycle clubs had a
recurrent theme to what they called themselves: Hell's Angels,
Heathens, Pagans, Satan's Slaves, Devil's Disciples. Munch had had
some bad experiences with the Satan's Pride just before getting
sober. Seems she had transmitted a social disease to a few of the
members. They were gang-raping her at the time, so she didn't feel
too terribly guilty about it. Besides, who were they to point fingers
as to where a disease originated?

Long story short, to their way of thinking, she had
done them wrong. Kind of like a burglar suing the homeowners because
he tripped over their furniture in the dark. Instead of taking her to
court, the bikers had planned on selling her to a sadistic murderer.
She had turned the tables on them, which resulted in their president,
Crazy Mike, being shot dead by the cops and the rest of the pack
departing for points unknown.

"
It gets worse," Ellen said. "I heard
a rumor that there was a bounty on your ass."

"
For what?'

"
You know how those guys are. You embarrassed
them."

"
What was I supposed to do? Let them kill me?"

"
A good ol, lady would have."

They looked at each other and laughed. Neither of
them had ever been in contention for Harley Whore of the Year. They
were both too opinionated to make the cut. Good biker babes didn't
have a point of view until their men told them what it was.

"
How much?" Munch asked.

"
Their patch."

Munch knew that instant membership, without having to
go through the year-long initiation of being a prospect, was quite an
inducement.

"
That seems pretty specific for a rumor."

"
Yeah, well." Ellen picked up the platter
and headed for the backyard. "Maybe you sleeping with a cop
ain't such a bad thing after all."

"
I guess that would depend on the cop."
 
 

CHAPTER THREE

THE FOLLOWING THURSDAY, MUNCH STOPPED ON HER way home
from work to do some quick shopping at Royal Market on Washington
Boulevard. The mom-and-pop grocery store was across the street from
the AA clubhouse and one of the few markets left in Los Angeles that
dispensed Blue Chip stamps. Munch and Asia were saving for a kitchen
clock they'd found in the catalog. It was shaped like an English
country cottage and required twelve books of stamps for redemption.
She and Asia painstakingly collected and pasted the stamps between
the dotted lines of the booklets. They were only half a book short.

Munch unloaded her purchases onto the rubber conveyor
belt. Harleys idled out front and she wondered if they were being
ridden by anyone she knew. Damned if the choppers' deep-throated
rumbles weren't still music to her ears.

The checkout clerk paused. Munch looked up from her
purse, expecting a total to be showing on the register.

The clerk wasn't finished. She dangled a wilted piece
of vegetation from her fingertips and looked at it as if she wasn't
sure it was something she should be touching.

Munch realized with a jolt that it was one of her
anemic ears of corn. She blushed deeply and looked behind her. Rico
stood there grinning.

"
Just throw it away," Munch told the clerk,
mortified and amused at the same time. Rico laughed out loud, then
kissed Munch on the cheek. She punched his arm. "What are you
doing here?"

Rico waited until Munch had paid for her groceries
and collected her change and stamps. He picked up the bags and they
headed for the exit. "I did some checking on what Ellen said
about the Pride looking for you."

"
And?"

"
She was right."

"
Great. Should I be worried?" Munch did
feel a little thrill of dread at his words, but then she refused to
give in to that reaction on principle. It was much easier to deal
with the bad bikers of her past if she focused on her contempt for
them rather than giving them the respect of fear. She was also a tiny
bit proud to still be a bone in their craw after all this time.

"
I think we can put an end to this right away,"
Rico said.

Munch gestured to the bikes now visible through the
market's glass doors. "You gonna turn me in and collect the
reward yourself ?"