Inside, Francisca was seated at the small kitchen table with a new half-moon-shaped gash near her eyebrow. Delores had a pretty good idea where it came from.
“Pepsi?” asked Yolanda. “I bought them with the money you gave me.”
“Thank you,” Delores said, thankful they’d eliminated the gross tap water from the discussion. She both admired and pitied these women. On the one hand they were incredibly brave. They’d left their families and former country behind in hopes of building a better life in America, just like millions of other immigrants had been doing for centuries. But, through no fault of their own, they’d encountered Dixon Browne and ended up in a quagmire that they neither expected nor deserved. Delores placed her hand on Francisca’s arm. “You are safe here.”
Francisca’s eyes were filled with cautious hope, her nod timid.
“My real name is Detective Delores Sanchez,” she said, mostly to Francisca. “I’ve been living in Cal-Vista under a different name so that I could learn about the bad things that your husband does. That’s why I came down here today. I need to ask both of you some specific questions.”
Yolanda nodded, but Francisca was more stoic.
“I need both of you to help me show that he does the same bad things to different people. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Since neither Yolanda nor Francisca replied, Delores pointed to Francisca’s wound. “Can I assume that Dixon did that to you?”
Francisca placed her hand on top of her Pepsi can as if she didn’t want it to hear what she had to say. “I admitted to Mr. Dixon that I had been lying about taking the birth control pills.” She hung her head, “and that I’m three months pregnant.”
Delores resisted the urge to groan and placed her hand lightly on Francisca’s arm. “Oh, my goodness. What did he say?”
“He got really mad and threw a plate at me.”
“I’m so sorry. At least you’re safe now.”
“That’s when I knew I was just saying I loved him because I was afraid to have my baby by myself.”
“So you went out and stood by the new roses?”
“Yes. At two o’clock, just like you said. I don’t want my baby to live with that man.”
“That was very brave.” Delores swirled her hand in a little circle. “The three of us have to stop him from doing the same kinds of things to other women.”
Neither woman jumped at her proposal, but they didn’t say no either. Delores took a sip of her soda and leaned toward Francisca. “How did you meet Mr. Browne and come to be his wife?”
Francisca glanced at Yolanda, who nodded as if it were okay for Francisca to speak. “I lived down the street, but needed a cheaper place to stay. He said I could do some work for my rent. The next month his other wife went away and he said I could live with him for free and become a legal American.”
It was the same basic story that Dixon had told Delores when she was pretending to be Lorraine Martinez.
After a few more questions Francisca loosened up. She said that Dixon had been doing the same thing with various women for a number of years. It usually ended with some paperwork, presumably to lend a scary formality to it all.
Delores shook her head and leaned toward Francisca. “I have something I have to ask you. I wouldn’t even ask, but it’s very important. Is that okay?”
Francisca’s eyes swung to Yolanda, who tipped her head approvingly.
“I need to know if you wanted to sleep with him or if you just thought you had to.”
Francisca hung her head. “At first, I just did it because I had to, but then I wanted the baby.”
“You wanted to have his baby?”
“My baby would have to love me.”
Delores understood the feeling perfectly. A baby doesn’t want to exploit you or feel you up or dump you for somebody better. “In the beginning, when you didn’t like it, did he make you do it anyway?”
“A lot at first. But later it depended on how much he was seeing other women.”
Yolanda nodded her head.
Delores raised her eyebrows. “Did he make you do anything else that made you uncomfortable?”
Francisca stared straight at Delores, who realized there was more. “I’m sorry, honey, but we need to do this.”
“He made me watch movies of him with other women. Then he wanted to take pictures of me too. I didn’t want to but he got very angry and made me do it.”
Delores wanted to spit. Although she’d just verified something Dixon had said earlier and could add sexual exploitation to his eventual charges, she sure didn’t feel any glee. Nonetheless, if these two ladies could hold up under the harsh cross-examination of a ruthless defense attorney in court, she could probably get a conviction, but she doubted they’d testify without more support. Furthermore, DA’s tended to cut deals with defense attorneys so Dixon might get off with the equivalent of a swat on the wrist. Delores still needed more. “Do either of you know the names of his other wives or how I can find them?”
Francisca covered her can again and mentioned Inez Quintana and Rosalie Ortiz who lived near Cal-Vista, at Casa De Lucero. They acknowledged that there were others but neither Yolanda nor Francisca had names or addresses.
“Juanita might help you,” Yolanda said at the last minute.
“The cleaning lady? Dixon mentioned her. Do you think she’d talk to me without letting Dixon know I’m asking questions about him?”
“I don’t know, but Manuel hates Dixon because Dixon steals money from them.”
“Oh really?” That was interesting. If Manuel and Juanita really hated Dixon, they might be useful when Delores moved her investigation on site. Having sensed she had extracted all the info she could for the time being, it was time to bug out of there. “I want you both to know you’ve been very helpful.”
“Are you going to arrest him?” Yolanda asked.
“Not right now. I have some other people to talk to first. I need both of you to keep our little conversation between us. Then when the time is right I’ll need you to help me.”
Francisca’s shoulders rose up as if she was trying to cover her ears. Delores assumed Dixon had scared the hell out of them but she’d deal with that later. For the time being she could take comfort in knowing these two ladies were safe and beginning to open up. She rose and handed each one a business card. “If either of you think of anything else I should know, please call me,” she said.
Yolanda rose and wrapped her arms around Delores; then Francisca joined the hug-a-thon.
Outside, the straw-hatted gardener laid his hose down, picked up an incredible rose and offered it to Delores. He beamed when she took his offering. Her stunned eyes were drawn to the bright yellow petals in the center that glowed like the sun. A half-inch ring of pillowy-white petals encircled the yellow and both rings were inside a double ring of the darkest and richest pink petals she could imagine. But as gorgeous as the incredible tri-colored rose was, it had an even better quality: A giant whiff revealed it to be the most glorious-smelling flower Delores had ever encountered. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, while taking a deeper whiff. “What’s this called?”
The man beamed from ear to ear, tapped her arm and pulled a pencil and small note pad from his pocket. He scribbled two words, then handed it to her: Double Delight.
In spite of the fact that the man obviously couldn’t hear, he and Delores had communicated perfectly. “Beautiful and smells good,” she mouthed.
He removed his hat, held it to his chest and nodded.
As Delores walked to her car, she again smelled her special rose and allowed the aroma to temporarily become part of her. As she savored her gift, she pulled away and waved to the man who stood, hat in hand, in her mirror.
Somehow the aroma of the flower cleared her mind. Regardless of her own troubles, there was no way she was going to let Dixon Browne beat her, which meant she had to think about rent day, which meant that Dixon would surely be coming by Lorraine’s apa
rtment very soon, and not merely to say hello.
Chapter Fifty
Stump tugged at his knee brace as he and Myles left the shopping center—only this time Stump wasn’t driving. “I can’t believe you bought me a new iPhone, Myles. Thanks a lot.”
“Sure. Someday you can do me a big favor and we can call it even.”
Any other time Stump would have been overwhelmed by Myles’s generosity, but Cal-Vista was dead ahead and he was worried about Maria. Last he knew Dixon was at her house and had probably told her mama all about what they did. In addition, Stump would likely lose both his job and thirty bucks an hour.
At Cal-Vista, Myles and Stump made their way to the bike rack and Ol’ Ug’. Myles wrinkled his brows, knelt down and pointed at the tires. “These things aren’t slit. Somebody just let the air out of them.”
Stump shook his head. “Either way Dixon’s a piece of shit."
As usual, Myles ignored the profanity. “Before we jump to conclusions, let’s go talk to him.”
The hair on Stump’s neck stood on end. If Myles were to find out about the couch action, Myles would be backed into that awkward corner that he’d clearly said he wanted to avoid: He’d either have to abide by his duty and turn Stump in, or ignore his responsibility. “To tell you the truth,” Stump said, “I’d rather handle this on my own.”
Myles nodded and tugged lightly on Ol’ Ug’s handcuffs. “Then give me the key to these things and I’ll load the bike in the truck while you do what you need to do.”
So far, so good, but Stump suspected everything would get worse in mere minutes. While he scooted past the pool and toward the boss’s office, his eyes gazed across the courtyard. Maria’s curtains were open. He could only imagine how disappointed her mama must have been. That sucked more than anything else. It reminded him of something his mother used to say: You should have thought of that before you got yourself into this mess. His mom was always wiser than he gave her credit for. Regardless, he had to make arrangements to get his final paycheck.
When Stump arrived at the half-flight of stairs that led down to Mr. Kraft’s office, it looked like a form of much-deserved punishment. He grabbed hold of the handrail and hopped down the stairs. At the bottom he limped to Mr. Kraft’s office where the door was ajar and the light was out. Stump nudged the door to find Mr. Kraft lying on the couch.
“Oh, Stump,” Mr. Kraft said. “I’ve been waiting.” He sounded like crap. Stump flicked on the light and noticed a partially empty glass of water and two pill bottles on the main desk.
Mr. Kraft rose and moved slowly to his chair. “Looks like you’re worse off than I thought.”
“The doctor said it’s a severe sprain.” He pointed at Mr. Kraft’s bottle of Percodan. “They prescribed some of those.”
“Must have been pretty bad.” Mr. Kraft raised one hand slightly. “I know how much that meeting meant to you, and I hate to pile on, but I think I’ve decided to let you go.”
Huh? Stump had expected to get fired, but there was something peculiar in Mr. Kraft’s tone and the particular words he used. “I think I’ve decided” indicated there could be some wiggle-room for a conversation. “I can tell you’re disappointed in me—”
“Disappointed? You don’t know the half of it. It’s not like you. Now I’ve got to file an insurance claim and clean up my tenants’ cars. I just don’t have the energy for things like this.”
Insurance? Cars? “I’m sorry, sir, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy. I know you slopped that paint all over the parking lot, and on tenants’ cars too. I can’t ignore that.”
The parking lot? “I don’t mean to argue with you, sir, but I did a pretty good job painting those stripes. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“For crying out loud, Stump. You must have been out of your mind to make a mess like that.”
Stump scrunched his brows and tried to recall anything he did to warrant this conversation. He may have been temporarily distracted by Maria, but he didn’t spill any paint on the lot or cars or anything else. “I recognize that you don’t feel very well, but would you mind showing me what you mean?”
“No use, Stump. The damage is done.”
“Please, Mr. Kraft. I promise I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mr. Kraft looked Stump in the eye and then sighed. “Oh what the hell. I guess you deserve that much. Some fresh air might do me some good.”
As Mr. Kraft and Stump limped to the back lot, Stump tried to remember how he could have been so careless. “There it is, right there,” Mr. Kraft said just past the halfway point. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember doing that.”
The pavement looked as if a thousand yellow stars had spread across a black sky. “I didn’t do that.” Stump pointed to the area a little further out. “Look over there. That’s my work. I’m nowhere near that sloppy.”
“Well, these things don’t happen in a vacuum.”
Stump looked more closely, then bent over and pointed. “Look at this. There’s a bunch of big drops right here, close to my feet, but the drops get smaller and farther apart as they get farther away.” He pointed three feet to his left. “Look here. It’s the same thing. Whoever did this was standing right here, where I am now and flung that paint out there on purpose. I wouldn’t do that.”
Kraft glared at the splatters near Stump’s feet. Then his eyes moved to where the smaller splatters fanned out.
“Who else has access to the maintenance room?” Stump asked, already knowing the answer. Of the four people who had keys, Kraft could obviously eliminate himself and Juanita because she wouldn’t have the strength to lift the heavy paint bucket nor any reason to resort to vandalism. That left Dixon and Stump.
“I respect you too much to do something like this, Mr. Kraft. Besides, I need this job.”
Kraft stared up the courtyard for a moment. “Alright. I think this warrants further thought. For now, you take the weekend off. Then call me on Monday, around this same time. I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“Yes sir, I’ll call you then. But I promise, I don’t know anything about this.”
“Just call me on Monday, like I said.” His tone indicated the conversation was over, which was fine with Stump. He had another stop to make.
He would have rather gone to a dentist than face Maria’s mama, but he had to explain that the couch time wasn’t Maria’s fault. He wondered if the fact that he used a condom would make any difference.
After limping all the way to Maria’s place, he knocked and took a step backwards, out of hitting range. Then the door pulled inward. As expected, it was Mama. Stump braced himself for the rage that was sure to come, but she smiled and called for Maria. Nothing was making sense.
Seconds later, Maria came to meet him and tugged him into the hallway, where she kissed him on the cheek. “Hi. What happened at the meeting?” she asked. “Why haven’t you called me?”
What the—why wasn’t anybody yelling at him? “I sprained my knee and never got there.”
She gasped and looked toward his knee. “You want to come in? Tell me what happened.”
“In a minute,” he said as he rested a hand on her shoulder, “but I’m worried about you. Did you get in a lot of trouble?”
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t think Jerk-wad said anything to Mama.”
Stump wrinkled his forehead. “That’s weird. I don’t think he said anything to Mr. Kraft either.”
“He’s probably afraid you’ll kick his butt.”
Stump shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. I’m just glad that you’re still talking with me.”
Maria grabbed Stump’s hand. “Of course I am. We love each other.”
“That’s good. Anyway, I’m really sorry for taking you into his office in the first place.”
“Don’t be silly. I knew what I was doing. I’m not a little girl, you know.”
“So you don??
?t regret what we did?”
“Well, I didn’t like getting caught, but we love each other and I want to do it again.”
Holy shit! Stump’s skin tingled. “You do?”
“Of course I do. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe it will last longer next time.”
“I want to do it too, but I can’t do it today, because my dad’s here with me.”
Maria grinned. “I didn’t mean right now, silly. I just meant sometime—pretty soon.”
“What about tomorrow? I should be able to bend my knee by then.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Sunday or Monday are good days for me.”
She chuckled. “It sounds like you’re trying to make a doctor’s appointment. I don’t want to set a time. It should just be natural.”
Natural? Stump nodded as if he understood, but as far as he was concerned, sooner was much more natural than later.
Chapter Fifty-One
Another day, another dollar in the hole. Thirty of them per hour to be more precise and Stump knew where to place the blame. He wobbled over to his dresser for his copies of Dixon’s notebook. It was too difficult to concentrate. There had to be something else he could do.
He snagged his new cell, hobbled into the living room, and called Juanita. “Hi, this is Stump,” he said when she answered. “I was thinking I could make a couple calls to people who used to live at the complex. Do you know how to reach them?”
“New tenants fill out an application before they move in, and many provide their forwarding information when they move out. All those records are in the file cabinets in Mr. Kraft’s back room.”
“They’re probably alphabetized. Can you check them out and call me back?”
“I’m not going in there after what happened with Dixon’s notebook. You have a key. You do it.”
“I’m at my place and can barely walk. You don’t have to take anything. Just make sure Mr. Kraft’s car isn’t there and make it look like you’re going to clean his office. Once you’re inside, the window in that room looks right into the courtyard so you can see anybody who is coming. Just scan the files of a few people you think are most likely to help us. Then call me back with their numbers. I’ll take it from there.”
“I don’t think I should—”
“If we can force Dixon out of there, you can work directly with Mr. Kraft, and you’ll get full payment for your work. You guys deserve that much.”