“Oh really?”
“He says we have too many people here and nobody controls them. He doesn’t like it when the kids get noisy.” A huge, unexpected smile stretched across Juanita’s face. “Last night, he banged on Dixon’s door. It had something to do with broken beer bottles somebody threw over our fence into his parking lot. Before I knew it, they both came running out of Dixon’s apartment. Dixon was chasing him and waving his gun in the air and yelling like a wild man.” She stopped and raised her hand to cover her grin. “He was wearing his bathrobe and slippers, but nothing else. Not even his teeth.”
Juanita’s happy mood was contagious. Stump smirked too.
“Then his bathrobe flew wide open like a cape, and his thingy was flopping up and down while he ran.” She held her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart and laughed so hard she snorted, which made her laugh even harder and snort again.
Stump envisioned the 50ish Dixon; toothless, caped, and running around waving a big ol’ gun in the air while little ol’ Johnson flopped in the wind. “I gotta admit,” he said, and joining her giggle, “That’s pretty funny alright. I wish I’d seen it.”
After they’d both calmed down, Stump shook his head one last time and pointed his finger in the direction of the neighbor’s building. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll get over there later.” Then he recalled the first night he’d met Juanita and Manuel and how unprepared he felt. He snagged his cell. “Do you know the guy’s name?”
“Connors. Mr. Connors.”
After making a few notes, Stump hustled over to Mr. Kraft’s office where the boss was resting on his sofa. “Morning, Mr. Kraft,” Stump said, while pulling his timesheet off the bookshelf. “What do you have for me today?”
“Before we get into that,” Mr. Kraft said while sitting up, “I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.” He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Dixon tells me that after I leave here each day you’re doing things besides your work, like talking to girls and leaving the property. Is that true?”
This wasn’t good. At the same time, Mr. Kraft seemed more exhausted than angry. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve had to do some things for school and the City Council project I told you about. For instance, last night, I wrote part of a report that I have to give to a building inspector tomorrow. I didn’t get to sleep until two in the morning.”
“You’re working on a Sunday?”
“Have to. The big meeting is Tuesday evening, right after I get done working here.”
“You’re not charging me for the time you’re spending on those extraneous activities, are you?”
“No sir. That wouldn’t be right.” Stump showed Kraft his timesheet. “I keep track of my time, just like you told me. Look here. Today, I wrote down that I started at eight forty-five even though I was here a little earlier.”
Kraft waved off the timesheet. “I already looked that over. I wasn’t sure why a fellow with such a short shift would break his day into several blocks, but now I get it. What about this girlfriend I heard about? She’s not going to interfere with your work, is she?”
“I admit that we like each other. I like some of the other people around here too, but I work a little extra to make up for any time I spend with her. You can tell that I’ve been getting my work done.”
Mr. Kraft nodded. “I noticed that too. Between us, I don’t blame you. She’s pretty charming, but don’t get too distracted—and just make sure you don’t bill me for time you spend on something else. Okay?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Alright then, now that we’ve got that settled, I want you to get a large push broom from the maintenance room and sweep the back part of the parking lot, especially the lines, so we can restripe them next week.”
As Stump made his way to the parking lot he scratched his head. He’d heard comments at school and on TV about rich people in general taking advantage of other people, but Mr. Kraft sure didn’t fit that description. He was a nice man who went out of his way to be fair. Stump was more determined than before to do a good job for the man.
As the morning and afternoon passed, the desert sun bounced non-stop off the parking lot pavement and stole more and more of Stump’s energy until finally he needed a serious break. He scrounged a few coins from the bottom of his pocket and bought a Pepsi from the vending machine, then drifted toward Mr. Kraft’s office where he took a few pages from Dixon’s notebook and had a seat in the bathroom.
His previous glances at the pages revealed a mishmash of letters and digits that didn’t make sense. This time he looked for patterns. Then he saw the letters EJJ. That had to be a clue.
Chapter Thirty-Three
A day of rest? What a crock. Sunday or not, Stump had just gotten thumped in the head with a pillow. James came by as agreed to help deliver the last batch of brochures. Stump hoped to squeeze in a couple driving hours after that and if there was any time left over, he wanted to catch up on any loose ends for his upcoming meeting with the City Council. Oh, yeah. And mow the lawn of Danielle Delgado’s parents and talk with Maria.
After a piece of toast, Myles, James and Stump packed into Myles’s truck and Stump drove to his old neighborhood. There they waited for home inspector Geoff Harrington per Danielle Delgado’s suggestion. Harrington was to drive the neighborhood and issue an official report about the general safety of the homes as compared to those in other communities. His findings would be included in information packages at Tuesday’s meeting.
“Did Geoff decide how much he’s going to charge me?” Stump asked Myles.
“He usually gets four hundred to inspect a home, but this is a little different, so he was going to ask his boss if he could reduce it to a couple hundred.”
Myles might as well have punched Stump in the belly. “But that’ll take most of my next paycheck.”
“I guess it will, but I think we can add his fee to the money you already owe me for the bicycle tires.”
James jabbed Stump in the ribs. ”Ya can’t beat that.”
Stump shook his head. “I feel like an effing mother bird. As soon as I catch a juicy worm, the chicks all want it.”
“Just wait until you get a car,” James said.
Myles nodded as if he totally agreed. “Speaking of the tires, when you going to pay me back?”
Fortunately Stump had anticipated this topic. “Don’t creditors like to make loans to people who they know will pay them back?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I got a small pay check but after I paid the damn bank fees and kept a little for spending money, I don’t have much left, and it’s two more weeks to the next payday.”
“Common problem,” Myles said. “It’s called living beyond your means.”
“I can write you a check for the whole sixty dollars I owe you, and you can lend it right back to me—like the banks do.”
Myles chuckled. “First off we’re closer to a hundred when we consider the helmet. And second, you’ll never get me paid back that way. Why don’t you pay me five bucks for now and pick up the rest from your next check or two?”
Stump glanced heavenward. “Okay. But that only leaves me with a few bucks for spending money over the next couple weeks.”
”Spending money for your girlfriend?” James asked, obviously trying to embarrass Stump.
“Good question,” Myles said. “I’ve noticed you’ve been taking more showers and using my cologne. A guy doesn’t have to be a detective to put all that together.”
“Her name’s Maria,” James said.
Stump would have preferred to avoid the topic altogether but the toothpaste was out of the tube. “She’s just a girl who lives at the apartment building.”
“She a looker?”
“I guess so,” Stump said, being careful not use up his entire vocabulary.
“I see.” Myles hesitated a moment. Then added, “Do I need to worry about what you’re doing?”
Oh, crap. This was getting uncomfortable. Stump
couldn’t say anything about a kissing van, nor admit that two nights ago he and Maria sneaked into Mr. Kraft’s office and actually had a discussion about going all the way. Just then a car turned the corner and pulled in behind them. Thank God. “Looks like Mr. Harrington’s here,” Stump said as he pivoted and rushed toward the newcomer.
Grateful to have escaped the third degree, Stump waited for the end of the intros before asking, “How much are you going to charge me?”
Geoff glanced at Myles and back to Stump. “I’m sorry, but my boss says the best we can do is three hundred.”
It was like being slapped in the face. “But my dad said you’d only charge me two hundred.”
“Wait a minute,” Myles jumped in. “I was just guessing. I think you ought to be grateful that Geoff’s working on a Sunday and giving you a discount.”
Stump took a deep, pained breath and turned to Geoff. “He’s right. I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t have much money.”
“Welcome to the club,” Geoff said. “I’ll try to get the boss to come down a little more, but don’t count on it.”
* * *
While the desert wind blew warm air into their faces Stump, Myles and James handed out brochures and urged neighbors to come to the meeting. When they observed a home with a noticeable safety flaw, they took pictures. It was mid-afternoon before they were finished.
After dropping James off, Myles and Stump drove an hour and a half north on CA-14 to Bakersfield and had just begun the return trip via I-15, when Stump got to thinking about something that had been bothering him. “Can I ask you something, Myles?”
“If it’s about dinner I was just thinking about that too.”
“No. It’s about Maria and her mother.”
“Oh. You can ask, but since I’ve never met either one of them I don’t know if I can be much help.”
“From what I can tell, Maria’s mother is basically passive. She stays at home, does all the right things and simply tries to be nice to people.”
“Sounds like a very nice person.”
“She is, and so is Maria. But Maria’s completely different. She’s more confident; she has goals and tends to stand up for herself and her mother. Why aren’t they more alike?”
“Well, we have to be careful about lumping people together, but it’s not uncommon for the children of immigrants to be more independent than their parents.”
“I know what you mean. James’s folks came up from Africa, but he’s a lot crazier than they are. Why is that?”
“Good question. According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, people first have to concern themselves with the necessities like food, clothing and shelter. Then once they feel secure they can pursue other things. Sometimes that can take generations. I suspect Maria feels a lot more secure than her mother ever has. That enables her to take more chances.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting. Maslow, huh? Remind me to look that up later, would ya?”
“Sure. If I don’t forget.”
“Speaking about forgetting, how’s Grandma Pauline doing?”
Myles sighed. “Not good.”
“I still say she should live with us.”
“If we did that, we could consider you to be one of her caregivers and slip you a few dollars from time to time.”
“I don’t want no money for being nice to Grandma Pauline.”
Myles stared straight ahead for a few seconds. “You know something, Stumpster? For a fellow who has his own financial woes, that’s one of the least selfish things I’ve heard in a while. You make me really proud sometimes.”
“Sometimes? I’m so cool I don’t even feel the desert heat.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll keep your offer in mind. Thanks.” Myles tapped the seat. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about. This is important so I want you to pay attention.”
Stump raised his eyebrows. “‘Sup?”
“Since I’m a law enforcement officer, I’m considered an officer of the court. Among other things, I’m supposed to report any under-age people who I know to be engaged in intimate activities.”
“But I haven’t done that.”
“I’m not saying you did or even that you will. But the society wants guys like me to protect young women, especially from older guys, predators. If those guys get caught messing with the young ones, it’s a felony and they can go to jail for a long time. If younger guys like you get caught messing around with somebody your own age he can be charged with a misdemeanor. It’s not as bad, but it’s still a crime.”
It sounded serious when he put it that way.
“I know that lots of people your age do it anyway,” Myles continued. “Of those, some of them get in a lot of trouble including pregnancy and courts. That’s why I think it’s better to wait until you’re older.”
“I told you, Dude, we ain’t done nothing like that.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m not stupid, so if it happens anyway I hope you’ll be respectful of the girl and use condoms.” He raised a finger. “And whatever you do, don’t let me know about it ’cause I sure as hell don’t want to have to decide between turning you in and shirking my responsibility."
Hmm. Stump nodded. He appreciated the tone, and being treated like an adult, and the predicament that Myles was in. “Okay, I get it. If anything like that happens, I promise to be careful and not to tell you about it.”
“Just play it smart, okay? That is unless you like the idea of changing dirty diapers.”
GROSS! ’Nuff said.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Do unto others before they do unto thee. Prior to her cowboy incident, Delores had several occasions when she overcame her cowardice by turning the tables on somebody else. It was all about control and the loss thereof.
She would not have been so stressed were it not for the countless nights she and sister Simone had endured Tio’s wandering hands and the physical pain of his pinching and probing. She remembered his threats and the liquor on his breath. Just as bad were the noises he made just before he was done. Surely, she was good for something besides that.
When she got older she desperately wanted to find a man who would genuinely love her. She would give every ounce of her being to such a man, but it always ended the same way. When things got serious she thought about how she felt when Tio’s hands explored her. The only way to avoid the risk was to say no, and run away.
But then the guilt set in. Guilt for not trusting her partner. Guilt for leading him on. Guilt for being such a damn coward. Guilt for being a cop. People can’t trust cops who run away from trouble. Whenever she got to that point, she had to find a way to regain control in the bedroom or she’d drive herself nuts. She didn’t have to give a damn what her partner thought, or if he wanted to see her again. The whole idea was to dismiss any emotional connections. Do unto others before they do unto thee. At least that way the coward inside her could temporarily go away, leaving her with a chance to deal with her other issues.
She’d employed her switch-game a few times over the past couple years and learned to tuck away what she did in a forget-it place in her head. But then came the cowboy moment. At the time, she was fully willing to ride the dude for all he was worth but when it came right down to it, she backed out. That was the first time she’d done that and she didn’t really know why. Nor did it help her with her self-confidence about dealing with Dixon Browne.
Today being Monday, Delores was at Cal-Vista and expecting a visit from the human octopus. In a twisted way, she almost hoped he’d force himself on her and thereby give her the proof she needed to send him to a bad-ass prison where he’d discover that cons hated sexual predators as much as she did. But the truth was, she’d kill Dixon Browne before she’d let him actually rape her. For now, she needed to bring him down with routine police work and one way to do that was to exploit his weaknesses.
Although Delores wasn’t particularly vain, she knew that Dixon considered her counterpart, Lorraine Martinez, to b
e something akin to his gambling trophies. She still had a few days until the rent would come due again, so she figured she might be able to keep him at bay until then by treating him like a driver in bumper-to-bumper traffic. As long as he was inching toward his destination, he’d probably hang in there and put up with short-term frustrations, giving her more time to gather enough strong evidence to lock him up, preferably for life.
She gathered her purse, and placed her pen recorder on top of the fridge, then arranged two chairs so one had its back to the recorder. She draped her purse on that one and left the other facing the mic. Then, she slipped into the bedroom and hid her Diamondback DB9 pistol under her pillow. That done, she called both Myles and the Birdman in case she might need backup.
One final look in the mirror. One final pep-talk and Delores, along with her aliases, Lorraine Martinez and Monday Girl, was ready. As expected, the knock came just before nine.
Delores paused a moment before she pulled the door inward. Dixon Browne quickly stepped inside, looked around, plopped right where she’d hoped he would and clasped his hands behind his head. “I never did get you any better furniture, did I?”
“I saw a couch at Goodwill,” she said, taking her own seat.
Dixon shook his head. “You may not need it. I’ve got some good news for you. Francisca is moving out. You can take her place.”
Uh-oh. “Why? What happened?”
“Mutual agreement. This means you and I can be together and you won’t have to worry about paying your bills.”
This could be good news, but not for the reasons Dixon thought. If Francisca was moving away, she might be willing to testify about her relationship with Dixon. The important thing was to get to her before she moved away. “But it’s not nice to be with a man in that way while he’s already married,” she said trying to sound as Lorraine would.
Dixon rose and scooted his chair directly in front of hers. “Francisca won’t care. That’s the way the deal works. Once we agree to split up, it’s easy on everybody.”
“What about that woman you see on Wednesdays? Won’t she want to move in with you? She was here first.”