Right on! Go away, old dude.
“Your mama likes it.”
Maria paused, twisted her head to the side. “Mama saw it?”
“Sure. She wants you to have it.”
Maria raised the little carton to eye level. “Well, the box is pretty,” she said, before carefully removing the lid.
Damn that Dixon.
“A bracelet!” Maria removed a delicate golden chain that contained a handful of pinkish stones spaced an inch apart. She flashed them toward Stump’s face. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Not just any bracelet,” Dixon said. “Those stones are a rare agate, your birthstone. You can tell by all the swirling colors.”
Maria tilted her head and beamed. “How do you know my birthstone?”
Dixon looked square at Stump. “You’d both be surprised by what I know.”
Stump clenched his jaw. Were boyfriends supposed to know about birthstones?
Dixon returned his attention to Maria. “There’s a special poem just for young ladies who were born in June. Would you like to hear it?”
Maria smiled. “If you want to.”
Dixon nudged Stump over and sat on the edge of the bench, then looked adoringly at Maria.
“She who comes with summer to earth,
and owes to June her hour of birth,
with stone of agate near her hands,
health, wealth and long life commands.”
Stump rolled his eyes while Maria reexamined the bracelet. “Well, it’s nice but I don’t want it,” she said, putting it back in the box, “because I don’t like you.”
Stump almost laughed out loud.
“You have to be more selective,” Dixon said while pointing a thumb at Stump. “Guys like this will say anything to get what they want.”
“He’s a better man than you are.”
Stump grinned. On second thought, he was actually enjoying Dixon’s company for a change.
“You’re too young to understand, but trust me. You can do much better.”
“You’re just jealous ’cause he’s nicer than you are.”
Stump agreed and folded his arms across his chest.
“I’m just saying you should hold off. That’s all. There will be plenty of other guys later—with careers and college educations. The kind that don’t lie to their girlfriends and bosses.” Dixon rose, scooted the box back toward Maria and lowered his voice to a near whisper, “I want you to keep it,” he said before he turned and walked away.
Stump waited for Maria to throw the box at the jerk-wad, but instead she reclaimed the bracelet from the box. “Agate, huh? I didn’t know that was my birthstone.”
What the hell just happened? Stump eyed the bracelet. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Let me see that thing.”
Maria tilted her head, shrugged her shoulders and laid her new bracelet in Stump’s palm. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“I thought so,” he said pointing to one of the settings. “See this? It’s scratched. Look. Here’s another one. This bracelet is used. I bet he stole it. What kind of present is that?”
Maria took it back and looked it over. “Yeah, I see what you mean, but if that’s true, it must be pretty valuable.” She put it on her wrist.
“But it’s like lying to you. He wants you to think he spent a lot of money on it, but he really didn’t.”
She slid it up her arm and then back down to her wrist. “Isn’t that what you did when you said you paid three times as much for the candle?”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Stump wouldn’t have thought it possible to hate Dixon Browne any more than before, but he sure as hell did. His blood sizzled as he limped back to Mr. Connor’s building to wait for James. Finally on the ride home, “It’s not about a candle,” Stump said, “but the bastard loves to tear people down.”
James shrugged. “That’s life, Dude. Everybody has power but us. We’re the ones who do the grunt work and they’re the ones who rake in the big bucks.”
“Well, this time, I’m gonna do something about it,” Stump said just before James dropped him off.
Myles was already home from work when Stump limped into their apartment. Myles turned immediately. “This morning, I got another call about my mom. This time she got lost in her own building and ended up in somebody else’s apartment. When they found her, she was crying because she didn’t know where she was. It’s looking more and more like she’s going to have to be relocated.”
“No problem. Bring her here.”
Myles paused a moment then, “You’ve said that before. Are you sure you’d be okay with it?”
“Of course, Dude. She’s your mom.”
“What about the inconvenience?”
“How many time do I have to tell you? None of that kind of shit matters.”
“If she catches you talking like that, she might make you wash your mouth out with soap.”
Stump wondered if people really did that.
They threw a frozen pizza in the oven and finished it off before Myles left for his nightly AA meeting, which lent Stump a chance to get back into the copies of Dixon’s notebook.
After a group of routine pages he came upon an interesting, off-pattern entry: m’s coll acct 2 chase. Stump stared at the data for several minutes. He’d seen plenty of hidden comments in license plates and phone numbers. He should be able to figure this out too.
Acct was a common abbreviation for account and he knew of Chase Banks, so those two could have been connected. Coll could have something to do with coll—ecting money. The m might have stood for money or a name or a man or a mom. The best possibility was Manuel’s collection account to Chase Bank, but as far as Stump knew, Manuel didn’t do any collecting around there. Regardless of the mystery, Stump was inspired to keep going.
As he progressed through the copies, a new pattern emerged. Two years earlier, there was an escalation in the number and types of Dixon’s scams. That was about the same time as Mr. Kraft took ill. Stump couldn’t imagine why anybody would rip off such a nice man, especially considering Mr. Kraft’s health.
Stump plowed on. More phrases emerged and some names that Stump recognized appeared. J and M together had to be Juanita and Manuel. F was for Francisca. K stood for Kraft. Stump’s pace accelerated. Then, with only three pages to go, the oddest entry popped out: M’s acct 20k showed IQ.
Stump sat back, gazed at the paper. 20K could have meant twenty thousand, but it was different in that it was the biggest monetary amount in the entire book. But IQ? What did money have to do with somebody’s smartness? And who or what was M this time? Dixon’s mom? Manuel? Stump added M and IQ to his notes. His mind’s eye played around with various combinations. I and Q went together, with no space between them. Maybe IQ stood for something besides intelligence quotient.
Then, in a split second something came to him. Dixon had been showing up at Maria’s place at odd times and concerned about things that seemed to be none of his business. IQ could’ve easily stood for Inez Quintana, in which case M surely referred to Maria. That would mean that Dixon’s earlier entry of m’s coll acct 2 chase could have been an account for Maria. If that was accurate, coll could have meant college, as opposed to collection as he previously suspected. This was beginning to take shape. Stump raised one eyebrow.
There could only be one reason why Dixon Browne would do all of that for Maria. It explained everything. Maria said she and her mom lived at the complex ever since she was born. Why would anybody hang around that long if they didn’t have to? It could also explain why Maria’s mama did so many favors for Dixon. And why Dixon knew about Maria’s birthstone. It explained why Dixon was so pissed off when he caught them in Kraft’s office. And it clarified why Dixon kept encouraging Maria to wait before getting entangled in a relationship with Stump.
And most importantly, it explained why Dixon hadn’t ratted Maria out to her mama. For once in Dixon’s miserable life he had a soft spot for somebody and that somebody
was Maria. She had to be his daughter.
A flush of adrenalin washed away the pain in Stump’s knee. He leapt to his feet and twirled around. “I got you, you son-of-a-bitch, I got you,” he bellowed, before he suddenly stopped and sat back down and scowled.
Maria had always believed that her father was a Mexican hero, but if Stump told her the truth he could break her heart. On the other hand, if he didn’t say anything, and he eventually sent Dixon to jail, Dixon might level with her or she might lose her college fund.
On yet another level, if Stump didn’t keep the pressure on Dixon, Maria would surely wonder why Stump didn’t care enough about her mama. And just as irritating was the ugly fact that Stump would have to abandon his own goal to shove a heaping helping of red-hot vengeance down Dixon’s throat.
What the hell should he do? Regardless of whether he continued his investigation or not, Maria was going to end up disappointed. Now he wasn’t feeling so good. About all he could hope for was that he’d made a mistake.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Delores, dressed as Lorraine, wrinkled her nose and waved her hand in front of her face. Monday mornings were both useful and problematic. Anticipating a visit from Dixon Browne, she arrived at Cal-Vista fairly early. Given the recent humidity and the heat, her sham apartment smelled like a locker room. She flicked on the air conditioner and opened a couple windows.
While she situated the recorder-pen on top of the fridge and placed her gun and a small wad of marked bills she’d accumulated under her bedroom pillow she thought about the previous evening, when she had located Rosalie Ortiz, Dixon’s wife from some four years earlier. It was pretty much the same story. Rosalie didn’t want to talk about her relationship with Dixon, but squirmed uncomfortably when Delores mentioned some of the patterns she’d uncovered. On its own, Rosalie’s information didn’t add much except that it would help to prove the “serial” part of Delores’s serial rape by deception argument.
Basically ready, Delores set one of the folding chairs near the large window facing the courtyard and waited for her prey to prey on her. Just as she was about to turn her cell off it vibrated. She checked the readout. “Hey, Myles. What’s up?”
“It’s Monday morning,” he said. “You going to be okay?”
She looked into the courtyard. “I think so. I’m at the apartment right now, waiting for the dreaded weekly grab fest. Did you check those sites we discussed?”
“That’s why I’m calling. There isn’t much, but according to Ancestry-dot-com, there was an article in a Des Moines newspaper almost twenty years ago wherein one Dominik Braun was charged with felony domestic violence for beating up his brother’s wife.”
“And?”
“They cut a deal. Dominik pled guilty to misdemeanor assault, got six months’ probation and all was forgotten.”
“Okay, so?”
“Just before the six months were up, Dominik Braun changed his name—”
“Don’t tell me,” Delores butted in. “To Dixon Browne.”
“You got it.”
“Well it’s not much, but there’s no telling what other aliases he might have used.”
“Or what other cases he may be involved in. What about Stump? You think he’s in any danger?”
“Don’t think so. He seems to stay out of Dixon’s way. But if that changes, I’ll get him out of here and let you know.”
“I’d appreciate it, Detective. What about you? What’s your plan for today?”
“Just trying to hold Dixon off for another week or so. I’m not sure exactly how I’ll play it until I find out what his gambit-of-the-week is. Did you have any luck with Victoria?”
“Not really. I stopped by there and said I was considering hiring Dixon for a manager’s job in a bigger complex. She seemed more concerned about the prospect of him getting away than happy that he might be leaving.”
“Okay that’s what I suspected. She’s probably more worried about feeding her son than anything else.”
“That’s the way I read it too, so I elected to back out of there, without making a big deal out of it.”
“Good. At least I know not to talk with her for now. I’m going to hate to end her meal ticket, but this is just another example of one of his victims.” Some movement across the courtyard caught her eye. “Uh-oh. I gotta go, Sergeant. He’s headed this way with a paper sack.”
A minute later, Dixon tapped on her door, walked right in, set his paper sack on the feeble kitchen table and closed the curtain. “It’s been a week.”
“I know,” Delores said while moving to the edge of the kitchen, toward the refrigerator. “Can I get you some water?”
“I brought some wine and cheese. I thought we might go for a little hike up in the San Gabriel Mountains. It’s supposed to be cool up there today.”
Hmm. While such a trip might draw out some incriminating conversations, the last thing Delores needed was to be alone with Dixon in a remote place. “Couldn’t we just stay here?” she asked, trying to think of something Lorraine might say. “I can turn the air conditioning way up so it’ll be just as cool.”
He placed his hand under her chin. “I think you know that the weather isn’t the only reason we’re going up there.”
“I know I owe you some money, but—”
“Perhaps you’d like to get rid of that debt right now. It’ll only take a little while and you’ll be done for the day. Might even get some overtime at the restaurant.”
She scrambled for something else to say. “I could kiss you like before.”
“Good idea.” He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her, but kept his tongue to himself. Then he eased his hands to her backside. “But it’s going to take a little more than a kiss this time,” he said.
“But I don’t want to—”
He gently nudged her against the wall and kissed her again, this time with tongue, then lightly thrust his hips toward hers. His breathing quickened and he raised his hand up her side toward her breast. Yikes. This had the potential to get ugly. She pushed his hand aside. “I don’t want to do anything dirty.”
“Listen to me. I’ve been covering you for a whole month, without a legitimate commitment from you. This has to be a two-way street. I want something new and substantial.” He tapped her breast. “Starting right here.”
Instinctively, her arm shot upwards, pushed his hand away. He was lucky she didn’t knee his ’nads, but that probably wasn’t what Lorraine would have done.
“Which is it?” he asked, while facing her fridge-pen, “We’re either going to get it on right here or up in the mountains.”
Her heart bumped as a whirlwind of emotions rushed through her. This was as bad as the things Tio did to her when she was little and that made her want to run away. But the detective inside her wanted to bring down a perv. For the time being she had to set aside her own apprehensions and focus instead on the invisible women who didn’t even know they were counting on her. “If I let you touch me for a few seconds, can we say that’s enough for today?”
He sneered and shook his head. “A few lousy seconds? No way. If I’m letting you off the hook for the whole week, it’s going to take a lot more than that.” He reached for her breast again, but she scooted backwards and gazed into his eyes. His eyebrows were drawn down like Tio’s used to be.
“I have another idea,” she said with a feeble smile. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
He grabbed her arm and squeezed. “I don’t want no damn surprises. You know what I want.”
“I know, but you’ll like this. I promise. It’s in the bedroom.”
Dixon hesitated. “The bedroom, huh? Now we’re talking.” He loosened his grip slightly. “This better not be some stalling tactic ’cause I—”
She twisted out of his grip. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she bolted to the bedroom and locked the door. She grabbed both her small pistol and a thin wad of cash she’d scraped up by selling
some of her clothes to a consignment store. She stuffed the gun in her panties and returned to the living room with the cash in hand to see that Dixon had taken off his shirt and shoes.
She held out the bills. “I can pay you a week’s rent. Then we don’t have to do anything until next week.”
Dixon gazed at the bills and wrinkled his brow. “Where the hell did you get money? How much do you have?”
“Almost two hundred. I pawned my grandma’s brooch. You can have it all for yourself. Just give me another week.”
He hesitated. Then, “You must think I’m stupid. You’re just trying to buy me off with money you’d owe us for rent in a few days anyway.”
“I know it seems like that, but that brooch was important to my family. I could have hidden that money from you but I didn’t. I have to get something extra out of it or I could never forgive myself.”
He grabbed the wad, slowly counted the money. “It’s only one-seventy.”
“I know, but it’s all I’ve got. Please take it. You deserve it.”
He thumbed the wad again. Then he threw it on the ground and stepped closer. “Naw. I want to play with your tits.”
OMG!!! She took a quick step toward the door but he grabbed for her wrist. “You ain’t going nowhere.”
Oh, yes she was. She spun around, twisted out of his grip and ran out the door. The stupid bastard was lucky she didn’t kill him.
Chapter Fifty-Six
It had been two days since Stump discovered that Dixon Browne was Maria’s biological father but he still couldn’t figure out what to do about it. No matter what he said or did there was a high probability that Maria would be deeply disappointed. It was all so damn confusing he felt as if he were living in the Penrose optical illusion where he’d walk up a flight of stairs, turn onto another flight, then another and another only to end up right back where he’d started. There was no progress and no way out.
Fortunately, he avoided his dilemma on Sunday because he and Myles spent the better part of the day at a Dodgers game, and getting in several more hours of practice driving, which left Stump just a few hours shy of qualifying for his full-blown license.
Then on Monday, right after school, Stump called Mr. Kraft as instructed, and was relieved to learn he no longer needed to wear the tattered clothes of the unemployed.