RG2 - Twenty-Nine and a Half Reasons (2 page)

I smiled, tears in my eyes. I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life. I climbed out of his lap and shut his car door.

“Have a good week, Rose. Call me tonight and tell me all about jury duty.”

I put a hand on my hip and teased, “And you can tell me absolutely nothing about your day. All that top secret police work.”

Shaking his head, he grinned. “If you only knew. It’s mostly boring.”

“Nothing about you is boring, Joe Simmons.”

He winked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Gotta keep the intrigue going.” He shut the door and gave me a half-hearted wave as he drove away.

“Your mother’d be rollin’ over in ’er grave.”

I turned to voice across the street. Mildred, my eighty-two-year-old neighbor, stood on her front porch wearing a pink fuzzy bathrobe and curlers, holding a watering tin in her hand. I realized I was wearing pajamas consisting of a spaghetti-strapped tank top and short shorts. “Good mornin’, Miss Mildred.”

“There ain’t nothing good about a mornin’ when you wake up and find a porno show in front of your house.”

I released a heavy sigh. “It wasn’t a porno show, Miss Mildred. I was tellin’ Joe goodbye.”

She shook her head, and even though I was too far away to hear, I knew she was clucking. “Fornicatin’ is what you was doin’.”

“Times have changed, Miss Mildred.”

“Times are always changing, Rose Anne Gardner, but the Good Book don’t and it says that what yer doin’ is fornicatin’. You was raised better than that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. You have a good day now.” I gave her a small wave and called Muffy to come inside. As I entered the air-conditioned house, her words hung heavy on my conscious. Mildred was right. I’d been raised to believe lots of things, much of which turned out to be untrue. Still, I couldn’t ignore the weight of my guilt pressing on my shoulders.

Why didn’t I want to move to Little Rock to live with Joe? What held me back? I didn’t know. I only knew I wasn’t ready.

My stomach balled in knots as I picked up the phone to call my boss. She answered on the second ring, already knowing it was me from caller ID.

“What is it this time, Rose? A motorcycle gang? Did your Great Aunt Tilly die?”

I swallowed. “Jury duty.”

After a second pause, her voice returned, flat. “Jury duty. Today?”

“Suzanne, I’m sorry. I plumb forgot.” My grip on the phone was so tight I worried it would snap in two.

“I bet ten dollars and a lemon cream pie you don’t have jury duty, Rose Gardner. I suspect you’re just wantin’ to stay in bed with your highfalutin’ boyfriend all day. And when I find out I’m right, I’m firing your ass.”

First of all, I knew she couldn’t fire me. I worked for the state of Arkansas and government jobs didn’t work that way. I had an exemplary work history, considering they didn’t count busting your boss for extortion as a demerit. Although I’m sure my old boss, Betty, might disagree.

“I’ll see if the courthouse will give me a note to bring when I come back this afternoon. Okay?”

Suzanne responded by hanging up.

I kind of hoped jury duty lasted long enough that I didn’t have to go back in for the rest of the day. I’d rather wrestle a starving razorback in the woods than face Suzanne.

While I showered, I thought more about Joe. He was right. I did hate my job, and Suzanne had always scared the bejiggers out of me, even more so now that she had all the power that went with being the temporary acting supervisor of Satellite branch #112 of the Arkansas Department of Finance and Administration.

Why didn’t I get a new job? There was nothing keeping me there. After Momma died, I’d found out that I’d inherited over a million dollars from my birth mother, yet I hadn’t touched a dime of it. With the few expenses I had, I could afford to quit my job and to stay home for months until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. But I’d never do it. I was raised to be more practical than that.

Some lessons can’t be unlearned.

Chapter Two

Muffy stunk up the house while I got dressed, prompting another trip outside before I left, and stealing the extra ten minutes I had planned to get to the courthouse on time. I drove around the Henryetta town square looking for a parking spot close to the Fenton County Courthouse. It usually only took a few minutes to find an empty space, especially in the morning, but today every spot was filled. The first meter I found was several blocks away. Digging through my purse for change, I only came up with a dime and dollar bills. Of course, the meter took quarters.

The parking spot was situated in front of the floral shop where I’d bought Momma’s funeral flowers only a month before. A bell on the door announced my presence when I entered. I basked in the air conditioning, slightly chilled by the beads of sweat on my arms. Joe had been right. It might have been July, but the day was going to be hotter than usual. It already was.

A young woman wearing an apron emerged from the backroom. “May I help you?”

“Hi, I’m parked out front there.” I waved to my old Chevy Nova at the curb. “And I don’t seem to have any quarters. Would you mind breaking a dollar for me?”

She pursed her mouth in disapproval. “Sorry, we don’t give change.”

“But I have to be at the courthouse for jury duty and I’m running behind already, if you could just—”

“We only give change to customers.”

A trail of sweat trickled down my neck and I lifted my hair to take advantage of the cool air. “But I was a customer a little over a month ago, for my momma’s funeral. Agnes Gardner.” If she didn’t remember me, I knew she’d know about Momma. Her death had been big news. It wasn’t everyday someone was murdered in Henryetta, let alone with a rolling pin.

The girl shook her head with a disapproving glare. “You’re not Mrs. Gardner’s daughter. I remember when she came in to order the funeral flowers. She was a dowdy thing.”

She was right. When I’d come in to order the flowers, it was before Aunt Bessie had cut my hair. Before I’d bought all new clothes that didn’t make me look like an old lady. And before I’d decided I’d wasted my entire life trying to make my momma happy.

That Rose seemed like a totally different girl.

I lowered my hair and self-consciously tugged at the waist of my floral skirt. “It was me, I swear it. I’ve just changed since then.”

“Customers only.”

“Fine,” I dug into my purse and pulled out my wallet. “What’s the cheapest thing you have?”

“You can buy a carnation for a dollar.”

After I handed her two dollars, she handed me a white carnation and change.

“Have a nice day,” she said as she turned and walked to the backroom, but her tone didn’t sound like she meant it.

I opened the door and found a police officer standing by the parking meter, writing out a ticket.

“Wait! I was gettin’ change.” I waved the coins at him.

He turned around to face me and my mouth dropped open before I quickly closed it. The policeman writing my ticket was the same one who’d tried to handcuff me after Momma’s murder. He would have done it, too, if Joe hadn’t stopped him. “You,” the officer said, narrowing his eyes and bending over his tablet. “Once a lawbreaker, always a lawbreaker.”

His glare caught my breath before I wheezed out, “I didn’t have any quarters. I had to get change.”

“Then why do you have a flower in your hand? Looks to me like you thought you could park here illegally, pop into the store to make your purchase then leave, stiffing the city of Henryetta.”

“No! That’s not it at all and even if I did, it’s only a quarter.”

“Sure, it starts with a quarter today and the next thing you know you’re a drug addict robbing the Dollar General to get your next fix.” He lifted his chin, a hard gleam in his eyes. “The law’s the law, Ms. Gardner.” He ripped the ticket off his tablet in an exaggerated motion and handed the paper to me. “But like I said, once a lawbreaker, always a lawbreaker.”

I took the ticket and he walked back to his car, which he’d illegally parked behind mine. “But I wasn’t a lawbreaker! I was innocent of my momma’s murder and didn’t do anything wrong this time.”

He stood next to his open car door and pointed at the curb. “The parking meter says different. Have a good day.” Then he got in and drove away, watching me in his rearview mirror.

“Why does everyone keep sayin’ that when they don’t mean it?” I stomped my foot and my ankle collapsed. The heel of my shoe had broken and flopped to the side. “Crappy doodles!”

Three blocks from the courthouse, I hobbled a half block before I finally caved and took off my shoes, carrying them in my hand. I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. 9:05.

Half running and half jogging, by the time I reached the majestic steps to the old stone courthouse, I was a sweaty mess. The reflection in the window told me my hair had fallen from the stifling humid air, and the sweat on my forehead plastered the strands onto my face.

After passing through the massive wooden front doors, I stopped at security. An elderly security guard lifted a hand in warning. “You can’t come in without shoes, ma’am.”

I waved my heels. “I have shoes.”

“You have to be
wearin
’ shoes.” He raised his bushy eyebrows.

“Don’t I have to send them through an x-ray machine?”

The man leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “This ain’t the
airport
, ma’am.”

“But my shoe’s broken.” I demonstrated the floppiness of the heel.

“No shoes, no entrance.”

“But I’m due for jury duty at nine!”

“Then you’re in a heap o’trouble. You don’t show and they’ll issue a warrant for your arrest. As it is, you’re already late.”

I bet Officer Barney Fife would volunteer to carry that warrant out.
Once a lawbreaker, always a lawbreaker
echoed in my head. “Fine,” I muttered, bending down and slipping my feet into my shoes. I limped past the guard.

“Hold up there! You can’t just go in. We need to examine your purse.”

I handed it over with an exaggerated sigh.

The guard looked me up and down before putting it on the conveyor belt. “Come around this way.” He waved to the end of the machine.

I walked over and waited as he ran the belt back and forth, back and forth, until he finally rolled my purse out and examined the contents.

“If you could just hurry a bit.” I said. “As you already know, I’m late for jury duty.”

His face lifted from studying my purse and he watched me for a second. “Security can’t be rushed, ma’am. Are you wanting me to hurry ’cause you’re tryin’ to hide something?”

“No!
No
! I swear, I’m just so late—”

He closed my purse and pushed a button on his radio strapped to his shoulder. “Ernie, I’m gonna need some assistance. Gotta 10-66. Over.”

“Copy that. I’ll be there in five. Over.” The radio crackled.

“Ma’am, if you could have a seat.” He waved to a plastic chair against the wall.

“What? I can’t go?”

“No, I need to do a patdown and I need another officer present to ensure that you’re not sexually harassed.”

“
What
?”

“Ma’am, take a seat or I’ll be forced to inform the judge that you’re obstructin’ justice.”

I flopped in the chair, indignation rising. He was discriminating against me because of my shoes. After sitting for several minutes, I realized I hadn’t been to the bathroom since I’d gotten up, and I’d had two cups of coffee. “Do you think I could go to the bathroom really quick?”

He shook his head. “Nope. The restrooms are located in a
secure
area.”

The entryway was hot and I waved my hand to try to cool off with little success while I crossed my legs back and forth. Thinking about having to go only made it worse. I watched the minute hand on the industrial wall clock move slowly around the face. Over ten minutes had passed and no Ernie. I stood. “Look, I really need to go report for jury duty. If you could just let me go—”

“Sit.”

“You can even pat me down, I swear I won’t sue you.”

“
Sit
.”

I was about to protest when I heard a familiar voice. “Well, well, well. It didn’t take you long to get into more trouble.” The police officer who’d given me the ticket hooked his thumbs into his belt and rocked back on his heels with a smug smile. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

The security guard pointed toward me. “You know this one, Ernie?” His voice rose.

“Oh yeah, I just gave her a ticket for illegally parking.”

“I was gettin’ change,” I huffed.

“Then last month, there was the whole business with her mother’s
murder
.” He half-whispered the last word.

The security guard raised his eyebrows and appraised me with the new information. His hand rested on the butt of his gun.

“I was innocent! Daniel Crocker killed Momma.”

“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to stand and spread your feet and hold your arms out, away from your body.”

I considered protesting. This was unfair, but I figured if I put up a fuss Officer Ernie would be only too happy to haul me down to the police station, a place I had no intention of going back to. “Hey,” I said as the guard started patting my sides. “This is the county courthouse and you’re a city police officer. What are you doin’ here?”

Ernie shifted his weight. “Robbie is off with gout so I’m dropping in to help Ol’ Matt when he needs assistance. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The guard moved down my legs and finally dropped his hands. “She’s clear.”

“You sure?” Officer Ernie asked. “She’s a sneaky one.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Ernie stuck out two fingers in the shape of a V and moved them from his eyes to me and back again. “I’m watchin’ you.”

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my purse up off the end of the conveyor belt and hobbled to the elevator. The postcard said to report to room 226.

As luck would have it, the elevator moved slower than Ol’ Matt performing his security checks. By the time I reached the second floor and opened the door to the room, it was nine-thirty and I was about to pee my pants. Since I was already late, a couple more minutes wasn’t going to hurt anything.