Closet Confidential (24 page)

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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

BOOK: Closet Confidential
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I used my cell to check with the hospital. Pepper had been moved from ICU but still was not allowed visitors. I glanced at my watch. I decided to catch Ramona before lunch. I started up the rental and burned rubber to the library. I spotted a streak of blue in the reference stack and pounced. Ramona whirled, making her latest dangling silver earrings clink.
“I’m sorry to hear about Pepper,” Ramona said. “I know you two go way back.”
I nodded.
“Nick, too. Even if he is a rotten little jerk.”
Again, nodding seemed appropriate.
She said, “Of course that is my own personal view and does not reflect the views of the administration of the Woodbridge Public Library. As you can see, we are up to our patooties in not taking a stand.”
I could hear a rustling of raised eyebrows among the denizens of the reference department.
“I have your clippings about that other matter. Everything I could think of that might have some connection, and some stuff that might never make it online. I made copies so you don’t have to sit here with people breathing down your neck.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And I want to ask you something. You’re plugged into the community resources. I’m interested in finding out what’s available for women who’ve been physically abused by their husbands. Do you have—”
“Sure do. Got a brochure, got some contact names. Have some social workers to contact and a shelter. I’m assuming it’s not for yourself unless those dogs of yours are getting out of hand.”
“Not for me. And in fact, maybe not for anyone. I’m not convinced that abuse is the issue at all. It’s pretty awkward, but I can’t stand around and do nothing in case it is.”
“I hear you. It’s a tightrope. But we still have to do the right thing. I’ll get that information for you.”
I felt a bit better taking a step forward. Normally I would have discussed something like this with Pepper, gotten an “off-the-record” answer. For obvious reasons, that approach wouldn’t work in this case.
“Let me know,” Ramona said, “if you need help or support in that other matter. You can count on me.”
I thanked Ramona and headed home to read the clippings about the death of Anabel Beauchamp.
I knew she meant it. And I figured she was well aware that I was enquiring on Pepper’s behalf.
One of the best things about running your own business is having flexibility in your schedule. As much as I missed having the normal weekends that other people enjoyed, I did like the fact that I was in charge. And lunch didn’t mean gulping a protein bar one-handedly at my desk while working spreadsheets with the other. I might make a lot less money as a one-person business and I might actually work longer hours, but I always made a point of putting
Friend Time
on my To Do lists. I always made sure I had
Dog Time
, too, as if Truffle and Sweet Marie let me get away without that.
As I pulled into the driveway to give the dogs a quick walk, a cuddle, and a seat-of-the-pants bit of training, I spotted Jack’s bicycle near his front door. I realized he was at the shop with a most likely wailing infant and I hadn’t given either of them a moment’s thought. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter. I took care of Truffle and Sweet Marie, said to hell with the barking training, and tore off to CYCotics to see what was needed. This particular “friend time” wasn’t on the list and it didn’t need to be. I was headed there anyway. No point in phoning as Jack doesn’t always answer. Part of that laid-back cycle shop thing. Must come from the same place as the Hawaiian shirts.
I puffed into CYCotics carrying a container with three panini sandwiches—prosciutto and Asiago, to be exact—and two large cups of coffee. My cell phone was vibrating as I struggled to open the door, but I didn’t have a free hand to answer it. I had the envelope from Ramona in my briefcase. I don’t know why I was expecting a tsunami of diapers, overturned equipment, a squalling baby, and a frazzled Jack. I felt vaguely disappointed by the air of calm and quiet. There were even a few male customers quietly drooling over some special type of alloy wheels in the corner. A woman accompanying one of them appeared to be drooling over Little Nick.
Jack hung up his phone and gave me a startled look when I arrived. That was followed by a whispered, “Shh, just got him down for his nap.”
Huh.
“What’s going to happen, Charlotte? Did you hear the news?”
Of course I hadn’t. I’d been busy rushing about. I set out the sandwiches on the desk and then asked, “What?”
“Maybe it’s not the right time to talk about it. Margaret just called. She was looking for you, but you didn’t answer. Frank told her the police believe that Nick was the person who did this. Pepper’s injuries are consistent with being hit with a baton. They’ve found Nick’s with his prints on it and traces of . . . Pepper’s blood.”
The full horror of that showed in Jack’s eyes and I am sure in mine, too.
Jack continued. “He’s no longer a person of interest. There’s an actual warrant for his arrest now. Pepper hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but she’s out of surgery. Her parents will be arriving from Florida to take Little Nick. Pepper wouldn’t want that. She doesn’t have anything to do with her parents. So we can’t let that happen.”
“You’re right. She’d never want him to live with the same man who gave her regular beatings when she was growing up and the woman who let it happen.” I’d already lost interest in the food. “I’d better call Margaret.”
“Already done. That’s why I was talking to her,” Jack said. “I remember Pepper’s bruises. I know how she grew up. I couldn’t take a chance.”
“I can stay here with you, until Margaret shows up.”
“Never mind. She’ll be looking for the best way to postpone handing over Little Nick until Pepper is able to speak for herself. She’ll find an interim solution. Nick’s parents would be better. No one made his life miserable when he was a kid.”
I thought back to Nick’s mother, a bighearted, big-armed, booming woman. No one would ever give her a hard time, and no one gave her kids a hard time, either. She and Nick’s dad had retired to North Carolina, and I knew their health wasn’t great, but I was betting that they were also on their way back to Woodbridge. But considering that Nick was under suspicion, I figured there wasn’t much chance the child welfare authorities would hand over Little Nick to them. And they would be concerned about finding Nick, too.
“I know I won’t be able to keep looking after him,” Jack said. “Much as I’d like to. Even you don’t believe this was a good spot for a baby. Margaret says I should take him to Sally’s and she’ll apply for an interim custody arrangement. Seeing as there are four healthy happy kids there and Benjamin’s a pillar of the community, she’s confident that might happen. Especially as she can document that Pepper’s estranged from her parents.”
“What a tough situation. But if it’s any consolation, Jack, I’ve had second thoughts about the wisdom of taking a baby to a bike shop. I just had to open my mind and my eyes.”
“I appreciate that. Are you going to eat any of those sandwiches?”
I always plan ahead for Jack’s voracious appetite. “Go ahead. I’m not hungry. I’m going to look over these clippings about Anabel.”
“What’s the point of that? You don’t still think there’s something suspicious about it, do you?” Jack asked before chowing down on one of the panini.
I turned to the clippings I had brought in with me. “I believe Nick knows something and whatever it is has him falling apart.”
Jack said, “Can you do me a favor later?”
“Sure.”
“I have some extra blankets at home in my closet, and I thought it might be nice if I could put the little dude down on the floor and let him work on his crawling technique without him getting splinters from these old wooden floors. Can you drop them off to me if you have a chance? I don’t want to close the shop when business is getting better. I think the little dude is a good luck charm.”
“I am going to try to see Pepper, but I’m glad to bring them afterward if you’re not in a big hurry.”
At that moment the door jingled and sure enough another young couple strode in. They looked like they knew exactly what they wanted in an overpriced bike. Leaving Little Nick happily burbling at colorful bike parts, Jack ambled over to help them make that happen. I turned my mind to the clippings again. I had only a couple of minutes to peruse the articles. The file from Ramona was what I would have expected: an obituary for Anabel, an article about her accidental death from the local paper. A lot of coverage that resulted for her famous mother. But there were also pieces about the work she was doing prior to her death. A couple of newspaper photos and a printout from a website with her photo. In the newspaper she was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans and grinning as a new grant for the youth program was announced by city officials. Even subtracting the genius of newspaper photography, here was someone who enjoyed what she was doing. She was glowing. I shuddered when I turned over a photo of the watery foundation where she’d drowned. It reminded me of huge, gaping jaws.
I reminded myself that overwrought reactions were useless. I needed to have an unbiased, unemotional understanding of what had happened. My eyes widened as I spotted something that might help. A clipping from the local paper contained a familiar name and a new bit of information: Brad Dykstra had been one of the paramedics who had tried to save Anabel.
15
Consider your quality clothing in a new light. Can you update items by shortening them or taking them in? Factor in the cost of simple alterations to see if they’re worth it.
My attempt to talk my way past hospital staff to check on Pepper ended in failure. The regular WINY updates didn’t help. So I was in need of a smile when I pulled up at Wendy’s place. But I wasn’t expecting the dress that provoked it.
“She’d hidden it,” Lilith shrieked. “Can you believe that?” She pointed to the object in question first and then to Wendy, who was sitting on the bed doing her best to maintain her good nature.
One look at the yellow dress with its eighties sleeves and full skirt and I could indeed believe that someone would hide it. Of course, Wendy was the client, and I thought I might be a bit more discreet than Lilith. Comes with age and having a business.
“Her own son ratted her out!” Lilith was having a good time.
Wendy wore a sheepish grin, but was she having that much fun?
“He did,” Wendy said. “I’d hidden it in Seth’s closet, and he found it and brought it back. He was greatly incensed.”
Hmm. I had a feeling that Seth might have been less incensed over the startling dress and more inclined to want to see Lilith up close.
“Did he have a comment to make?” I asked, wondering if he had tripped over those size fifteens as he arrived.
“Too overcome with shock,” Lilith said, still laughing. “Maybe it’s the bright yellow. Maybe it’s the beaded top. Or the puffy sleeves.”

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