Read Monday Girl's Revenge Page 16


  “Victoria won’t care either. She likes things just the way they are. Besides, I don’t want her kid underfoot all the time.”

  Delores was glad she had asked the question. She’d planned on talking with Victoria when the time was right, but now she was having second thoughts. A mom would be reluctant to rat out the one guy she needed to make ends meet. “But if I move in with you, will you want to keep sleeping with her?”

  Dixon moved his hand to her chin. “Look. None of us are in love or anything like that. We’re just a bunch of people who do certain favors for each other. That’s all.”

  “But you said I might have to marry you.”

  He shook his head. “If we only get together on Mondays, you aren’t a wife and you can’t become a citizen. That’s why you want to move in and get married. It’s much better for you.”

  “Are you sure you can get me citizenship, because a lady at work said you have to be married for three years and take a test. If I have to wait for three years after Francisca gets her citizenship, it would take too long for me to get mine.”

  Dixon shifted his teeth. “That’s true for most people, but I have a special friend who works in the immigration office. He streamlines things for me. Once he stamps the papers, you’re in.”

  Keep lying, you sack of manure. “But what about the money? Do you still want me to pay you, ’cause—”

  “I’ve got that figured out too. You still work at the restaurant and pay me a few hundred each month. That’s less than half of what you’re paying in rent now. That’d work, wouldn’t it?”

  “But if I have to give you that much, I’ll never be able to save enough money to start over on my own.”

  Dixon hesitated and exhaled. “Look. This isn’t about the damn money. You and I belong together. You’re going to be powerful and important around here. If it’ll make you feel any better, you can forget about the money and move out in eight months. Now, that’s the best I’m going to do.”

  “I just don’t think I should sleep with you.”

  “Has to be part of it. That’s what I get out of the relationship. You want to be fair, don’t you?”

  “But I don’t know very much about making love.”

  “No problem. Most of it will come naturally but I can show you videos of me and Francisca. You can learn what to do by watching that.”

  Her eyes widened. “You take pictures?”

  “Sure. You’ll figure it out in no time.”

  “You wouldn’t take pictures of me, would you?”

  “All you gotta do right now is decide if you want to be my Monday Girl or get your citizenship. Either way,” he said, reaching for the bottom of her shirt, “this is the next step.”

  “Not now,” she said pushing his hand away. ”I need more time. Can’t we just go for another drive?”

  “No way. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “But I haven’t actually agreed to anything.”

  “Look. This is Monday and you already owe me. If you want my money, it’s your day to do as I say.”

  “I know I owe you, but—”

  Dixon ground his jaw, then swallowed. “Your only other option is to clean dirty apartments all day. The choice is yours.”

  Indeed it was. In fact, Delores had several choices including one or two that Dixon didn’t know about. Of the three options he presented, she knew which one he wanted but she couldn’t even make love with guys she liked. She sure as hell wasn’t going to bump uglies with a sicko. She looked at her not-so-smooth cop hands and imagined them in a bucket of hot water. “I guess I’ll have to clean apartments.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The next morning, Delores’s hands were sore from a day of scrubbing other people’s toilets and stoves, but at least she’d wrested some time and damning confessions out of Dixon Browne, especially regarding his claim to have a shortcut to citizenship. Sadly, it still wasn’t enough.

  Before she could convict Dixon, she had several obstacles. First off, she had to have proof, beyond a reasonable doubt, of what he had done. Then there was the newness of California Statute 261. Rape by deception hadn’t been tested very much and nobody had elevated it to a serial status.

  If that wasn’t enough to worry about, there was a potential entrapment issue. If a court were to rule that her own actions essentially drew Dixon into crimes he might not have otherwise committed, none of the things that he did to her could be used as evidence against him.

  Mercifully, the law wasn’t entirely one-sided. The entrapment defense could be beaten if it could be proved that the defendant was predisposed to commit such crimes before being entrapped. Therefore it was important for Delores to have several witnesses who’d testify against him, which was why she was hanging around Cal-Vista on a Tuesday morning.

  If Dixon and Francisca we’re calling it quits Francisca might be willing to open up and help Delores break her case. Luckily, Delores had just observed Francisca enter building three, where the laundry room was. A cautious meeting was in order.

  Dressed as Lorraine, Delores made her way downstairs where she glanced across the courtyard. It being all clear, she scurried over to meet Francisca.

  In the laundry room, Francisca was alone and had just put some change in a washing machine. “Hello," Delores said softly before Francisca swung around.

  Francisca’s eyes searched Delores’s face and then picked a basket off the folding table. “I bet you’re real happy.”

  Even a non-detective could have seen the black eye and the large bruise that encircled Francisca’s wrist. “Oh, my. You okay?”

  “You don’t fool me. I know who you are. You think you can steal my husband just like those other whores.”

  Delores pursed her lips. She could feel the pain in Francisca’s voice. “No, that’s not it. Honest.”

  “Oh, yes it is. You give yourself to him for money. That makes you a whore.”

  “You have it all wrong. We haven’t done anything like that. I promise.” Technically, there were a few gross kisses, but there was no need to bring that up. “I just want to talk to you. That’s all. Please give me a chance.”

  Francisca shook her head. “Don’t matter, now. He threw me out.”

  “Threw you out?” Delores sucked some air through her teeth. Dixon had said that Francisca’s departure was mutual and Francisca was happy about it. “When? Where you going to go?”

  “What do you care?”

  Delores took a step closer, gently touched Francisca’s black eye. “Believe me. I care a lot more than you’ll ever know. I’ve been in love too, but sometimes the people we love don’t have the same feelings. It’s very painful when they break our hearts.” She lowered her voice. “We both know if this man truly loved you, he wouldn’t beat you and throw you out of his home.”

  A deadpan stare washed across Francisca’s face, indicating Delores had hit a nerve.

  “Do you have a car? Anybody to help you?” Delores continued.

  Francisca shook her head. “Don’t need a car.”

  “I know some good people who you can live with for free until you can figure out what you want to do. They have children and live right by a church.”

  Francisca turned her head. “How does a person like you know people like that?”

  Delores would have liked to level with Francisca and draw out more information, but this was neither the time nor the place. “The important thing is to get you out of here before you get hurt again.”

  The slight turn of Francisca’s head, the scrunched brows and the child-like stare all revealed that she was sizing up the offer. Delores had her chance. “We can leave right now if you want to.”

  “No,” Francisca said, shaking her head. “I have one more day. I want to see if he changes his mind and lets me stay.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good—”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  As abrupt as Francisca was, Delores knew from her own relationship
s that love plays mean tricks on hearts. In those moments objectivity and common sense are often overruled by false hope and desperation. Francisca appeared to have reached that point. “Okay, then. I’ll tell you what. I’ll leave you alone for now. But tomorrow, if you decide you want my help you just stand in the courtyard by the new flower garden at two o’clock. I’ll have somebody watching and they’ll get a nun and another couple to come by at four to take you to a safe place for as long as you want.”

  Francisca looked deep into Delores’s eyes. “I’ll give him one more day.”

  Delores took Francisca’s hand. “Please be careful. If he tries to hurt you again, promise me you’ll run away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When a fellow sweeps a large parking lot, it allows his mind time to wander. In Stump’s case his thoughts frequently involved Maria. For instance, if his hunch about Dixon’s notebook proved true, Maria might be very, very grateful.

  Compared to some of the video games Stump had played, and the advanced Sudoku puzzles he’d solved, Dixon’s codebook appeared to be rather sophomoric. A brief examination revealed that the most common three-letter combinations ended with two J’s, such as AJJ or EJJ. Since Dixon routinely dealt with numbers, like 600 dollars for a damage deposit or 900 dollars for rent, the back-to-back J’s could easily stand for two zeros. If that was true, then other letters probably stood for the remaining digits and since all the letters came from the front end of the alphabet, the letter A probably stood for the number 1, B stood for 2 and so on.

  Stump grinned. He was looking forward to getting back into the notebook copies, and the potential reward Maria might offer. Just the thought of kissing and touching her perked him up, both between the ears and between the legs.

  At the end of his shift, Stump still had one other thing he wanted to do before visiting with Maria. He checked his iPhone notes, then journeyed next door to meet the neighbor as Juanita had suggested. The lone building was quite a bit bigger than those at Cal-Vista. Based on the three stories and the configuration of the doors and windows Stump supposed there were about 44 apartments.

  Both the grounds and the building itself were immaculate. All of the drapes in the windows matched and reminded him of military barracks. Stump pulled open the main entry door to see a mature woman, maybe fifty, cleaning the inside of the windows near the rows of mailboxes. “Excuse me,” he said. “Do you know where I can find Mr. Connors?”

  The woman grabbed a roll of paper towels. “He’s busy now.”

  “My name’s Stump. I work next door. I was told Mr. Connors might have some information about our manager.”

  “What kind of information?” she asked while wiping a smudge off the window.

  Stump paused, then said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to appear rude, but I should probably talk with Mr. Connors.”

  “I’m his wife. He doesn’t like to be bothered.”

  Hmm. A wife would probably know just as much, maybe more. “My girlfriend thinks Mr. Browne hurt her mother. I’m trying to find out if he’s ever hurt anybody else.”

  “Why don’t you ask the people over there?”

  “I am talking with a few of them, but most haven’t lived there very long. Besides, if Dixon finds out that I’m asking questions about him, my girlfriend might get in trouble or I might get fired.”

  A shuffling sound came from the lower level. “He’s got a good point,” a male voice said. “Come on down.”

  Stump looked at the lady, who nodded.

  Stump descended a half-flight of stairs to the garden level. Mr. Connors wore long pants, his shirt was tucked in, he was clean-shaven and his hair was combed. Overall he made a much more professional first impression than Dixon Browne did when Stump and Myles first visited Cal-Vista. Stump offered the man his hand. “Thanks for talking with me, Mr. Connors. My name’s Stump.”

  Mr. Connors shook hands before he climbed up his stepladder to remove the outer cover from a light fixture. “It’s good to see a couple people doing something about that crazy manager—even if you are just a teenager.” Mr. Connors rested the light cover on the top rung of his ladder. “Hand me one of those swirly light bulbs from that box by your feet, would ya?”

  Stump grabbed a fluorescent bulb and traded it with Mr. Connors for the one just removed. “I was told you’ve lived over here for quite a while and might know some inappropriate things Mr. Browne has done.”

  Mr. Connors screwed in the bulb. “I can tell you one thing. That guy changes women more often than most of us change underwear.”

  Stump grinned. “Did you ever talk to any of those women?”

  “Just one. A couple years back. Beatriz, I think it was. He chased her away. She stayed with us for a few days while my wife found some people to help her.”

  Stump added the name Beatriz to his phone notes. “What did he do to her?”

  “She wouldn’t say. But we saw some bruises and suspected that he beat her pretty good.”

  Uh-oh. If Mr. Connors was correct, this was consistent with Maria’s suspicions and The Case of Did He or Did He Not? had just become more complicated. “Do you know her last name or where I can find her?”

  “Not really,” Mr. Connors said while replacing the light cover. “She talked about going back to Mexico, but it’s hard to know.”

  Damn. “I heard he waved a gun at you.”

  Mr. Connors stepped off the ladder and squared his shoulders with Stump. “That dumb bastard’s going to point that gun at the wrong person and end up eating his own lead. One time he mouthed off to some roofers and got his teeth knocked out. I imagine you’ve seen him wiggle his dentures around.”

  Stump nodded. “Has he ever shot it?”

  “We suspected so one time, late at night. Coulda been firecrackers though. We were in bed and decided not to get in the middle of it. The other day he chased me out of his apartment when I tried to get him to clean up a broken beer bottle that one of his people threw over the fence onto our property. The belligerent bastard never learns his lesson.”

  Stump nodded. “A little bit ago you implied that somebody else was asking questions.”

  “About a week ago. A young detective dropped by. At first I thought she was just a prospective tenant.” He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, pointed it at Stump. “You know something? I’ve been watching you over there. You’re a good worker. Reminds me of when I was a kid. I like that. Why don’t you give me your number? If I get overloaded, I might just call you for a little help.”

  Wow. Another job. A rush of pride proved that Mr. Kraft was correct when he said it was important to do a good job even if nobody was watching. “Glad to,” Stump said, “but I won’t have any extra time for a while.”

  “Well, it’s always good to know people you can count on. Let me know if you become available.”

  “Sure will. Thanks.”

  After they traded numbers, Stump made a gleeful exit. He almost ran back to Cal-Vista, but that would be too kid-like. Instead, he took one quick hop before adding a couple more notes to his iPhone. He could hardly wait to share his findings with sweet-lipped Maria.

  Twenty minutes later, he and Maria walked hand-in-hand toward the ice cream store. He could barely contain his enthusiasm as he filled her in on the job offer and what he’d learned about the notebook code and Dixon. Stump was the happiest he’d been in a long time. He jammed his hand in his pocket and damn near got sick. “Oh no! I lost my iPhone.”

  “Are you sure?” Maria said. “When was the last time you had it?”

  Stump thought back. “Right after I returned from the Connors’s place. We have to retrace our steps.”

  They hurried back to Cal-Vista where a cursory search of the most likely areas proved fruitless. They rushed over to Juanita and Manuel’s place where Manuel complained that Dixon screwed them out of more money. Finally Manuel speculated that Dixon was probably behind the missing iPhone and said someday somebody was gonna nail that dude.

>   Stump grabbed Maria’s hand and they ran to Dixon’s apartment but got nothing more than snarky comments about Stump’s irresponsibility. Stump was in no mood for the bullshit.

  “We can tape hand-made signs on the outer doors of each building,” Maria said as they walked across the courtyard toward her apartment. “Whoever finds your phone can bring it to my place.”

  Stump plopped onto a picnic table. “Dixon was right. I’m a loser. The biggest damn meeting of my life is tomorrow night and I lose my iPhone. I can’t even communicate with anybody.”

  Maria placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can borrow mine.”

  “That won’t help. None of my people know your number.”

  “But you probably know theirs. You could call the key people and let them know what happened. Then they could still reach you.”

  “I guess that’s better than nothing. Are you sure you can get by without it until after the meeting?”

  “Of course. That’s what people who love each other do.”

  Stump sighed borrowed her cell, pink case and all, and headed home to his other responsibilities. He owed Maria more than ever.

  In his apartment, he snagged a bag of chips and slipped into his room, where he grabbed the copies of Dixon’s notebook. To test his theory, he wrote out the alphabet on a single line. Below the letters he wrote the numbers one through twenty-six. Then he examined the first line on one of the pages.

  b-bja 15,23,5,19 bjj 15,14 af20,8.

  If the number one stood for the first letter in the alphabet and vice versa, as he suspected from his previous examination, there was a good chance that each of the first two b’s stood for the number two. He jotted two two’s on a separate line. Then, he’d already guessed that the letter j stood for zero, so he wrote that down and grinned. Next, the number one should replace letter a, and that meant the first four characters stood for 2-201 and he knew what that meant. A gleeful chill tickled his neck. He reached for his cell to call Maria, but...oh yeah, he had her phone.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Finally. The day for Stump’s presentation had arrived. Given that he’d followed Danielle Delgado’s plan so closely, the bureaucrats would surely approve his idea and implement some sort of program to make homes safer in his old neighborhood. After that project was out of the way, he could sleep better and focus on his other pressing issues, like attending to his slipping grades and paying Myles back.