Out For Justice (4 page)

Chapter Seven

“So, then what happened?”

“Basically, we hit another dead end.” Karen sipped her latte then leaned back in her chair. “The landlord didn’t have a forwarding address and was as eager to find him as we were. Apparently he owes some back rent.”

Susan waved her hand as if she swatted at an imaginary fly, dismissing the landlord’s needs. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Karen sighed. “Now we go looking for anyone he’s ever hung out with. Any buddies he might still have around Tampa. Maybe someone’s seen him lately and will tell us they’ve seen him.”

“Right, someone’s gotta be giving him up. Good luck.”

“Thanks, we’re going to need it.” Setting her cup down, Karen leaned her cheek on her hand. “I know this case isn’t easy, but we’ve gotta catch a break.”

“Your first one, huh?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Karen looked up at her new friend.

“Sam getting a new partner was a big hint. Not seeing you around the other homicide cases was another.”

“Yeah, this is my first homicide case. I want so bad to get it solved too.” Karen lowered her voice. She hesitated, looked into Susan’s eyes and figured she could trust her. “It’s kind of personal.”

“Oh, girl. You can’t be getting personally involved in a case. Don’t you know that?”

Karen kept her voice low, her tone quietly soft. “I was eight years old when my little sister was killed. I watched how it ate up my parents. Year after year went by and the murderer was never found. My poor parents never saw justice done. They never had the satisfaction of watching the killer stand trial for Sarah’s murder. To this day, it haunts them. I can’t let these parents go through the same thing. Not if I can help it.”

“Wow. Honey, I didn’t know.” Susan reached out a hand and gently patted Karen’s arm. “Are you sure you should be working on this case?”

Karen looked down at the dark brown hand covering her own lighter one. Susan’s concern was genuine. She could feel it. Having a friend who understood meant a lot.

“Absolutely.” Karen shook her head as if to clear her mind. She sat up straighter in her chair. “I was meant to work on this case. I’m gonna find this guy, damn it.” She slammed her hand down on the table, then guiltily looked around Starbucks. Relieved, Karen saw everyone seemed oblivious to her outburst and went about their business. They were totally unaware that only a few feet from them was a conversation of murder and killers. The noise of other conversations buzzed around them.

 “Well, good luck. We’ll do our best to preserve all the evidence and help you nail this guy when you find him.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey, not to change the subject or anything, but I’ve been sitting here now for nearly an hour and you haven’t asked about Mike.”

“Huh? Him? What do I want to ask about him for?” Karen fixated on her coffee cup, not meeting Susan’s eyes.

“Uh huh. Just as I thought. Want me to drop a hint to him that you’re available?”

“God, no! That sounds too desperate, doesn’t it?” Musing about her mournful contemplation about ever finding someone to share her life with from the other night, Karen double backed. Did she want to be alone forever? Some bitter, man hating, old detective with a collection of cats and a taste for frozen dinners? Throwing caution to the wind, she added, “Oh, why the hell not. It’s not like I’m doing any better on my own.” Feeling brazen and spontaneous, Karen decided that there must be more to Mike than she’s seen so far, and if getting to know him better meant being set up, well, then why not. Maybe she was even right about him having a softer side. She made an instant decision that she would be more active about balancing out the personal side of her life.

“Honey, we all need a little help sometimes. Don’t worry, my hints are real subtle like. Before I’m done, he’ll think the whole thing was his idea.” Susan grinned and winked at Karen.

Karen eyed her new friend with suspicion. “What ‘whole thing’?”

“Now you just hush, and let Auntie Susan do her job.” Susan rolled her eyes upward to the ceiling. “And, boy, do I have my work cut out for me. Did I ever tell you that Mike doesn’t date anyone in the business?”

“No, can’t say that you have.”

“Well, it’s true. And it’s my job. And yours, honey, to make him change his mind.”

Karen looked doubtful. “Uh, what if he doesn’t want his mind changed?”

“Well, that’s for us to fix. He just doesn’t know what’s good for him right now. You and I are going to take care of that.”

“We are?”

“Yep. I saw the way that man looked at you and he’s interested. We just have to help him along with being interested. Make him so interested that he’ll forget all about his silly dating rule.”

“Do you really think so?” A little nervous laugh escaped Karen’s lips. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea. I mean—”

“Of course it is.”

“It’s been hard, Susan. I haven’t been really that successful in the ‘relationship’,” Karen made little quote marks in the air with her fingers, “area and I’m not sure this is going to work out.” Worried, she folded her paper napkin over and over until it began to look like an accordion.

Susan sat up straight in her chair and took one of Karen’s hands. “Listen. I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression earlier about Mike. He’s not a ‘fling’ kinda guy. He’s dedicated, thoughtful, and considerate. He isn’t reckless or mean spirited.” She patted Karen’s hand and let go. “He’s a good man, Karen.”

“I’ve been down the ‘fling’ road in my twenties, and now that I’m in my thirties I think I want something more. Something that means more. I want to belong…to a set. Become a pair. Find my other half. Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

“Yeah, I do, and I think you are at a good time in your life to be looking for something more. Something to complete your life. Mike is too, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Right, you keep saying that.” Karen smiled. “Are you doing him any favors by ambushing him like this? I mean the guy just might not want to have his life arranged for him, even if it is by a friend.”

“I’ve known Mike for a long time. And I stood by him through some painful moments. He’s like a little brother to me. You caught his interest and I can’t stand idly by while he’s too stubborn to act upon it. I’ll give him the little push he needs and then step back. Fate will take care of the rest.”

“You’re like a fairy godmother.” Karen laughed, her voice carrying in the small coffee shop.

“You think so? Is my tiara on crooked?” Susan looked around the table. “Now what did I do with my magic wand?”

The two women laughed together, their combined cheerful voices causing more than one customer to glance in their direction and smile.

Chapter Eight

“Damn it, woman, how many times do I have to tell you to keep those kids quiet when I come home?” Mark threw the remote control for the television across the room, nearly hitting Kelly’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and landed on the worn carpet floor near her feet.

With an inward sigh, Kelly picked up the remote control and carried it back to her husband. She handed it over without saying a word. That was one lesson she’d learned a long time ago. Don’t ever make a comment about him throwing something. Not unless you wanted it thrown at you again, with better aim. She walked away from the living room and its loud noise from the television to go into her daughters’ bedroom. The girls had hurried to their room as soon as they heard their father’s truck pull up into the driveway. It was better that way.

Walking slowly down the short hallway, she passed the closed door to her son Logan’s room. She gently placed a hand on the door and swallowed hard. It hurt. It hurt real bad. Swiping at her eyes, she sniffed loudly. It didn’t help to cry anymore. If Mark caught her crying again, he’d yell at her to stop her sniveling and dry up. He’d had enough of her crying, he said. She couldn’t understand why he was trying to push Logan’s memory away. It wasn’t like the rest of them could forget as easily or hide their emotions as well.

She missed her baby. She missed holding his soft, chubby body, the smell of sunshine and baby shampoo in his hair, and the way his bright blue eyes lit up when she’d wake him in the morning. She missed kissing him goodnight and tucking him into his little bed. Most of all, she ached and hurt as if a piece of her had been torn out and left a gaping wound that would never heal.

Taking a deep breath, Kelly wiped a hand under each eye and pulled herself together. She pushed open the door to her daughters’ room and said, “Girls, hush now. Your daddy’s home and he needs his quiet while he’s watching TV.”

Two blonde heads looked up in unison. Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at Kelly with slight apprehension on their faces.

“We’re sorry, Mama,” eight-year-old Ashley said as she smoothed the hair down on her little doll’s head. She laid her doll on the floor in front of her and covered it with a small scrap of old cloth she used as a blanket.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Amber?” Kelly knelt down next to her daughters and busied herself with folding doll clothes and putting them in one pile.

“I miss Logan,” Amber said in a low voice as she cast a quick glance at her bedroom door.

Looking at the sad, innocent face of her six-year-old daughter, Kelly nearly burst into tears. Of course her girls missed their brother. What family wouldn’t? But what child needed to watch what she said in case her daddy could hear and possibly punish her for talking about things he’d forbidden them to talk about? Kelly cringed inside, a small spark of stubbornness slowly fading away, knowing that she had to protect her children, knowing that she’d already failed miserably and knowing that she would probably fail again.

Kelly sat on the floor between her daughters and pulled her knees up under her chin. She put an arm around each girl and held them tight. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, but she made no noise. She’d spent many long nights of her life learning how to cry without making a sound so that Mark wouldn’t hear her and slap her for bothering him. Tonight, she cried for her son for having to go to heaven so young. She cried for her daughters for having a mother with no courage to help teach them to be strong. She didn’t cry for herself; she had no tears for self-pity. She knew the kind of life she’d lead by marrying Mark Hunt and she went into it willingly. Despite what others may think, she loved her husband. Loved him enough to forgive him yet again for his lapses of physical roughness.

After a few moments, she wiped her face with the back of her hand, kissed her girls, then left their room after making them promise to keep the noise down. She walked slowly back toward the living room and the man who was going to be upset over what she had to say.

“Mark?” Kelly waited to interrupt him until a commercial came on the television.

“What?” Mark responded with a loud burp and a demand for a fresh beer.

“We need to talk about something.” She kept her voice even as she opened the refrigerator.

“What?” Mark’s voice rose along with his temper.

Kelly knew she was heading into dangerous territory. She waited to answer until she was back in the living room. She handed her husband a cold beer then swallowed hard before she said, “Logan’s funeral.” She rushed on before Mark could stop her. “I got a call from the Medical Examiner’s office today. The autopsy is finished and they’re ready to release his body. They needed the name of the funeral home we’d be using.”

“You know we can’t afford no damn funeral.”

“I know that. But can’t we afford to at least have his body cremated? We could borrow the money from my—”

“Don’t say it.” Mark rose from his chair and stomped into the kitchen. He opened and slammed cupboards as if looking for something, but not able to find it.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to do it. Mama already said if there was anything they could do to help, just to let them know.”

“I ain’t borrowing no money from your daddy.” Mark slammed shut another cupboard door. It bounced back open from the force. “Damn it, don’t we have any chips or anything to eat around here?”

Kelly hurried into the kitchen and opened a lower cupboard door. She pulled out a new bag of potato chips and pushed them into her husband’s hands.

“What are you handing me these for? Put ’em in a damn bowl first.”

“I’m sorry.” Kelly caught the bag of chips as Mark threw it at her. She found a large bowl and hurriedly dumped the bag into it then handed it to Mark.

“That’s better. Damn. You’d think by now you’d learn, what are you stupid or something?” He wandered back to his chair in the living room.

Kelly knew her husband wasn’t looking for her to respond so she kept her comments to herself. Instead she continued on about her son’s burial arrangements. “One of the neighbors said that a fund had been started at the local bank for Logan and that we might get enough money to take care of the arrangements.”

“What fund?” Mark stopped shoving chips into his mouth and looked up with interest. His eyes got the greedy gleam to them she’d seen before when her parents first offered them money to get started. The gleam had gone out quickly when Mark found out that Kelly’s daddy expected some type of payment in return, either in cash or physical labor. Mark hadn't planned on returning either.

Kelly picked up a dry dishtowel and started wiping the dishes sitting in the strainer that she’d washed earlier in the evening after supper. “Mrs. Cooper said that someone started an account at the bank on the corner in Logan’s name. Said people have been donating to it after they put something about it in the newspaper.”

“What the hell are they putting stuff like that in the newspaper for?”

“I dunno. She said it was in the article about Logan’s killing.” Kelly gripped the counter until the knuckles on her hands turned white. She wouldn’t start crying again. She wouldn’t.

Setting the bowl of chips onto the scratched coffee table, Mark clapped his hands and rubbed them together quickly. “Well, this changes everything, don’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if’fin we get enough donations, we might be able to come out of this ahead, don’t you think?”

Watching her husband cautiously, Kelly said, “No, I don’t think I understand. Mrs. Cooper said that the money was to go to any arrangements that needed to be made for Logan. I don’t think she meant—”

“I don’t care what you think, woman.” Mark exploded. “They can’t tell me what to do with my own son’s money. My only son who’s been ripped from my life by some damn, good for nothin’ murderer.” Mark stood and paced the small living room between the still blaring television and the couch. He turned rapidly and shoved a fist into his right hand. “You still got the number of that reporter who came by?”

“Ummm, I don’t know.” Kelly searched her mind for where she may have placed it.

“What?” Mark yelled. “Do you got it or not, woman?”

“Yes, I think so.” Kelly turned away from the sink and started searching on the counter next to the telephone.

“Damn it, if you done gone and lost it there’ll be hell to pay,” Mark threatened.

Searching frantically, Kelly pushed papers around on the counter until the familiar business card appeared. “I found it. I found it.”

“Damn right, you found it.” Mark strode into the kitchen and shoved Kelly aside from in front of the telephone. “Give it here,” he said as he picked up the receiver.