“He’s not sucky. You love him, don’t you?”
“Yes, but the problem is that he’s sucky, sometimes. Penny, please come out!” Judy went inside the closet, grabbed the dog by the collar, and slid her out on the floor. The dog’s toenails scraped the hardwood, and her eyes went as round as brown marbles, so Judy stroked her back. “It’s okay, honey, you need a bath. You don’t want fleas, do you?”
“He’s not sucky all the time.”
“No, but is that the standard? Penny, come on, sweetie, let’s go.” Judy coaxed the dog to the stairwell, where she balked, but the only bathtub was upstairs. “Mary, believe me when I tell you, a guy who’s sucky sometimes might as well be sucky all the time.”
“Why? That doesn’t follow.”
“Yes it does. Think about it.” Judy tried to budge the dog, but Penny crouched on all fours, her hackles shaking and her fluffy head hanging. “Bottom line, I can’t rely on him. I have to take care of him. And when I need anything, he’s not there because he’s not used to me asking.”
“You didn’t train him.”
“Exactly what I’ve been thinking!” Judy tugged at the dog. “Anthony would never pull this crap. He’s responsible.”
“I can’t take credit, his mother trained him. He never poops on the rug anymore.”
Judy gave up on moving Penny. “I’m gonna have to carry her upstairs. I hate that. She weighs a ton.”
“I’ll take the front, and you take the butt.”
“You don’t mind? You’ve already qualified for sainthood.”
“No, I haven’t. A saint would take the butt.”
“Thanks.” Judy picked up the dog’s hind, and Mary came around to the head and shoulders.
“Hi, Penny. So, you’re upset.”
“Me or the dog?” Judy started climbing with Mary behind her, so that Penny traveled backwards up the stairs.
“Maybe this isn’t the best plan. It’s literally ass-backwards.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“You seem so bummed, honey. Are you saying you want to break up with him?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t talk about it anymore anyway.” Judy worried that Frank might hear them as they got closer to the second floor, so she flared her eyes meaningfully at Mary, who understood instantly, since all women understood Meaningful Eye Flarings.
“So talk to me about Aunt Barb. You’re worried about her.”
“I am, but it’s not only that.” Judy struggled to not drop the soft, heavy dog, as she squirmed. “So much happened this weekend, I don’t know where to start. Her best friend died, and it seems really hinky. Plus I found ten grand in cash money hidden in her garage.”
“What?” Mary asked, incredulous, and Judy told her the whole story, from meeting Iris, to hearing about her death from the police, to visiting the scene on Brandywine Road, then Mike’s Exotics, Iris’s apartment, and finally the church and the mission, with Daniella’s disappearance. There was so much to tell that the story lasted the entire time they washed, toweled off, and blow-dried the shaking dog, then put in a new load of laundry, and finally left to go pick up Frank’s truck. They took Judy’s car, with Penny asleep in the backseat, in some form of doggie shock.
“You know what I think?” Judy asked, as she steered through the dark city streets to the hospital garage. It was drizzling, and droplets dotted her windshield, but there was no traffic. Sunday nights in Philadelphia, everyone was home, depressed about work the next day. “I think something fishy is going on, considering everything as a whole.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have Iris found dead, out of nowhere, and her best friend leaves to go back to Mexico, and there’s secret money stashed in my aunt’s garage. Considering the totality of the circumstances, as the lawyers say, it raises a lot of questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like where did she get the money? Why did she hide it from my aunt? Why did her best friend leave, even before her funeral? Who was that call from that she got? And is any of it connected to the hidden money?” Judy felt good to be talking things over with Mary the way she always did. It wasn’t about men all the time, just most of the time. “I don’t think she was murdered, there were no signs of violence. I saw the body, I know.” Judy shuddered at the memory. “If there had been signs of a violent death, or a weapon, I would say the broken nails were a defensive wound.”
“But there wasn’t.”
“I know. Right. I can’t wait to see what the coroner turns up, but what if she was murdered, and the money had something to do with it?” Judy steered into the darkness, switching on the windshield wipers. “We’ve handled murder cases before, and if this happened in Philly, we’d put two and two together. Secret money, a sudden disappearance, and a mysterious death? What more does it take?”
“It’s not a mysterious death. Don’t get carried away.”
“But we love to get carried away, and there are legit questions.”
Mary snorted. “So what are you thinking? Who would kill Iris, and why?”
“I’m not sure. A few things are possible. I liked Iris and—”
“Stop. Assume you don’t know Iris. Because you don’t.”
“I do, kind of.” Judy flashed on Iris’s shy smile, in the rose garden. “I’ve been hearing about her for a while. Plus Aunt Barb adores her and she’s an excellent judge of character.”
“Would she if she knew that Iris was keeping some mighty big secrets from her? Hiding money in her house?”
“A good point.” Judy stopped at a streetlight, its redness fragmented by the raindrops on the windshield. “So we’ll put out of our mind that we think Iris is a nice person.”
“Exactly, and if so, the most likely possibility is that she either stole the money or was mixed up with something unlawful that generated cash.”
“Why do you say it’s from something unlawful?”
“Because you said she was in the country three years, and she probably made minimum wage at her jobs, if that. You can’t save that much money that quickly, so she had to come by it another way.”
“Hmm.” Judy thought about it. “And she would’ve hidden it because she has no other place to put it. She can’t get a bank account because she doesn’t have a Social Security number, and she can’t leave it at her apartment because of the risk of theft. Her roommate told us there’s a lot of theft in the undocumented community, so did the cops.”
“Of course, because nobody can use a bank. My mother was the same way, when she came over from Italy. She always felt like an outsider. She didn’t trust the banks, she wouldn’t even use a credit card. She kept the money under the mattress.”
“People really do that?”
“Italians do, big-time. Also, our sleep number is ten grand.”
Judy smiled.
“She still hides money in coffee cans and her sewing kits. Plus five bucks in her bra.”
Judy laughed. “But your mom came in legally. There’s no analogy.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s an immigrant mentality, and these are the new immigrants, and if they’re illegal, they’re essentially fugitives. They don’t trust anybody or anything, they can’t call the police. They live in a lawless world. That’s why they come and go without a word, like the guy at Mike’s told you. They don’t play by the same rules.”
“What’s your point?”
“So, it’s not that strange that Daniella would leave, or Iris would hide money, or she couldn’t confide in your aunt. She doesn’t trust anybody, she can’t.”
“So the question is, what was she up to? My aunt didn’t give her that much, and I don’t think she works for anyone else, except Mike’s.”
“Maybe she stole it from the office or petty cash, something like that?”
“I doubt that. I saw Mike’s and it doesn’t look like the kind of business that has ten grand lying around.”
“Okay, what about selling the stuff your aunt gave her?”
>
“Like an eBay freak? It wouldn’t amount to ten grand.”
“Prostitution?”
“Yuck, out of the question.” Judy shook her head. “Trust me. She had crucifix earrings.”
“Ever hear of Mary Magdalene?” Mary chuckled.
“Stop.”
“What about something having to do with her immigration status? Could she have been helping people across the border for money?”
“Human trafficking? Are you kidding?” Judy scoffed, braking at a stop light. “She was a cute little lady, a baker and a gardener.”
“Oh, in that case forget it. No criminals bake.”
Judy smiled.
“Okay, then what about selling drugs?”
“She didn’t seem like that type, either.”
“Not all drug dealers seem like the type, and if she goes back and forth to Mexico, you never know.”
Judy braked at the next light, traveling up Lombard. “It’s hard to imagine her selling drugs, given how religious she was, and what her roommates and Father Keegan had said about her.”
“Means nothing. You need to buy into the premise that she’s two-faced, leads a secret life, all that. If you ask me, she was up to no good, then died of a heart attack. I think that’s what happened.”
“They seemed surprised she wasn’t at work, too.”
“So she keeps secrets from them, too.” Mary leaned over, putting a hand on Judy’s arm. “Anyway you’re missing the point. Do you know what really worries me?”
“What?” Judy glanced over to new gravity in Mary’s voice.
“What if someone comes looking for the cash at your aunt’s house? If Iris is in cahoots with anybody, they’ll know it’s there. And even if she’s not, you’re telling me it’s a tight community, and it’s possible that someone else knows about the cash and also knows that Iris is dead. So they might come and try to steal it.”
“Oh no.” Judy gripped the steering wheel in alarm. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Where’s the money now?”
“I had packed it up, but I was too worried my mom would find it, so put it back in the garage, in Iris’s chest.” Judy was kicking herself. “I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Was that dumb?”
“No, that’s what I would’ve done. It wasn’t yours to take.”
“But I don’t think we should leave it there, especially with my aunt going into the hospital and leaving the house unattended.” Judy’s mouth went dry. “They could get broken into.”
“It’s possible.”
“What should I do? Call and tell them?”
“No, not over the phone.”
“Go get it?” Judy checked the dashboard clock, which read 7:35. “And do what with it? Tell my aunt, the day before her operation? How much more can she take?”
“Hit the gas, and we’ll figure it out on the way.”
Chapter Seventeen
Judy steered the car onto her aunt’s street, driving past a quaint cluster of older brick homes. Everything was quiet and still, now that the rain had stopped. The trees dripped water, humidity grayed the air, and the asphalt shone with wetness. Warm light glowed from the mullioned windows of the houses, from behind spiny evergreens and tall oak trees.
Mary shifted up in her seat, looking around. “I’m not moving to the suburbs, even when we have kids. There’s not enough graffiti.”
“Ha.” Judy cruised toward her aunt’s house, noticing that her mother’s rental car was taking up the driveway, so they’d have to park on the street. She scanned for a space, and Penny popped her head between the front seats, panting.
“Whoa, does the dog know where we’re going?”
“Yep, she comes to life on this street, every time.” Judy spotted a parking space in front of the house next door to her aunt’s and made a beeline for it. “She loves Aunt Barb.”
“Judy, don’t worry, I really think your aunt will pull through this.”
“Thanks, I hope so.”
“Also I put my mother on novena patrol, and she’s got the juice.”
Judy smiled. “So how much are we going to tell her and my mother about the money? I don’t love the idea of upsetting Aunt Barb before her operation, but by the same token, I don’t like hiding things from her.” Judy braked and reversed into the parking space, then cut the ignition. Penny started skittering back and forth in the backseat, wagging her tail in excitement.
“So you’re going to come clean?”
“Yes, and my aunt might be able to help. What if she gave Iris the money or knows how she got it? In fact, for all we know, my aunt could know that the money’s in her garage, but isn’t telling me.” Judy slid the key out of the ignition, engaged the emergency brake, and popped off her seat belt, which triggered Penny’s whimpering and pawing at the window of the backseat.
“You really believe that?”
“No,” Judy answered, talking louder to be heard over Penny. “But I’m trying to keep an open mind. Let’s get outta here. The dog’s about to explode.”
“Is she always like this?” Mary glanced back, and Penny began barking at the car window, her attention riveted on the house.
“Not really, but I haven’t taken her here in a while.” Judy could barely hear herself over Penny’s barking, reverberating in the small car. “Can you get my purse, and I’ll get the dog?”
Mary reached into the seat well and picked up the handbags, while Judy pocketed the keys, climbed out of the car, closed her door, and went to the backseat.
“Penny, settle down! Settle!” Judy opened the back door and reached for Penny’s leash, but the dog shot out of the car and raced down the sidewalk to her aunt’s house, her leash flying behind her. “Penny, no!”
“Wow, she’s fast!”
“Penny, come!” Judy jogged after the dog, surprised. It wasn’t like Penny to run off unless she’d seen a squirrel. “Penny, no!”
“Penny!” Mary called behind her, sounding distant.
Judy tore down the sidewalk and across the neighbor’s wet lawn, giving chase. Luckily the neighbors weren’t home and their house was dark, but the lack of lights made it hard to see.
“Penny!” Judy followed the noise of the dog’s frantic barking, reached her aunt’s driveway, and bolted past her garage to her backyard, praying that Penny wasn’t destroying the beds of Aunt Barb’s roses. Judy raced into her aunt’s backyard, which plunged her into darkness. The kitchen lights weren’t on inside the house, so there was nothing to illuminate the backyard. She lost sight of Penny, and the barking sounded farther and farther away.
Whoomp! Judy startled at a rushing sound, a rapid movement in the air around her, too fast to be anything natural. A large figure zoomed into her, a shadowy blur streaking from the darkness.
Judy felt a sudden blow to her head, stunning her. She cried out in confusion and fear. Pain arced through her skull. She heard a grunting sound. She caught a whiff of beer.
Judy whirled around, knocked off-balance. Her arms flew upward reflexively. She collapsed to the ground. She hit hard on her side, unable to break her fall. The shock of the impact traveled throughout her body and rattled her bones. Her face planted in the cold, wet grass.
The shadow vanished. She heard heavy footsteps splashing through the grass, running off. Penny’s barking sounded far away, echoing in the night. The air went still around Judy. The only sound was her own panting. Her heart beat wildly.
“Judy!” Mary appeared at her side, but Judy couldn’t see more than her outline against the cloudy sky.
“Somebody hit me…”
“Oh my God!” Mary threw herself on the ground and put her hands on Judy’s face. “Are you okay? Stay awake! Is there blood?”
“I’m fine, I’m okay.” Judy waved Mary off. “Get the guy. Find the guy. Find Penny…”
“Are you really okay?” Mary cradled Judy’s upper body, and Judy reached for her shoulder, trying to get to her feet.
“Let me get up, I’m okay.
I have to find Penny.”
“She’ll be fine, just be still. You could have a concussion. Where did he punch you?”
“No, he hit me in my head, with something.” Judy struggled to stand up, and a light went on in the kitchen in the back of her aunt’s house, illuminating the backyard.
“Judy, is that you?” her mother called out, opening the back door. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”
“Mrs. Carrier!” Mary shouted, panicky. “Come here quick! Somebody hit Judy!”
“Oh no!” her mother wailed. “Mary, is that you? Be right there!”
Judy scrambled to her feet, weaving slightly. Her head pounded. She couldn’t hear Penny barking anymore, and it terrified her to think that something had happened to the dog. “Penny! Penny!”
“Honey?” Her mother hurried toward her with Aunt Barb, both of them in bathrobes.
“Judy, what’s happening?” Aunt Barb reached her and helped her up by the arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, really.” Judy stood up, leaning on Mary. She looked around wildly. The backyard was empty. The rosebushes drooped with rainwater, their fading blooms glistening in the light from the window. The man was gone and so was Penny. “There must have been two men.”
“How do you know?” Mary asked, urgent.
“Two what?” her mother joined in, shocked. The back porch lights went on in the house whose backyard bordered Aunt Barb’s, then the house next to it, as the ruckus roused the neighbors.
“Two men.” Judy struggled to piece it together through the pain. “Penny saw them before I did. That must be why she freaked out in the car. I didn’t see him until he hit me.”
“Hit you?” her mother repeated.
Aunt Barb gasped. “Two men, in my backyard? Sweet Jesus!”
“What did he look like?” Mary gripped Judy’s arm, steadying her.
“I didn’t see him, I couldn’t tell.” Judy felt shaken, trying to process what just happened. “That must have been what Penny chased after. Not a squirrel, a person. Otherwise she would have stayed with me. There must’ve been another man who hit me, then ran away. So there were two men.”