“That was when?” Charlene asked.
“About twelve years ago.”
“You got pregnant right away?”
“He came around for a week or two. Probably less than two. And yes, I got knocked up. And my uncle, he came unglued. Knocked me near into the middle of next week. By this time I hadn’t seen Rick in at least a couple of months. All I really knew about him was his last name and he’d said he was from Sacramento. But he had a real unusual last name. So my uncle tracked him down, found out where he worked and who his people were, and called him up.”
“To tell him you were pregnant?”
“Well, I reckon. And to scare him into marrying me. I wasn’t yet sixteen. And he was near thirty.”
Charlene and Pam looked at each other; Meredith looked so young now, this man must have had a shine for real young girls. In Charlene’s experience, those kinds of shines didn’t often disappear over time. She tried to push the assumption from her mind and let the young woman finish her story.
The thing she was having trouble rectifying in her mind was Jake’s interest in Meredith. Either his tastes in women had made yet another metamorphosis or he had taken a paternal interest in this one.
“So, did he come back for you then?”
“No. He said it probably wasn’t his. That he wasn’t the first. My uncle went crazy again…said he wasn’t going to keep a whore around his place. But the baby was Rick’s and I knew it was and I swore it was, and so me and my aunt and uncle came here, to Sacramento, tracked him down, said we’d get a blood test, and he said okay.” Compound sentence finished, she took a breath and sat back in the chair.
“He then married you?”
“Yes. We got this little apartment where I practically never saw him. He’d come around about once a week, maybe twice. Spend the night, leave some money, take off again. Until I got big with Josie and then he stopped spending the night. About three weeks after she was born, he said we were getting divorced and I’d better find myself a baby-sitter and a job.”
“And…?” Charlene prompted.
“I found a baby-sitter and a job,” she replied, confused.
“You didn’t get in touch with your uncle? Couldn’t he have helped you?”
“Oh, Ms. Dugan, my uncle might’ve helped me eventually, but only after he’d beat the tar out of me. Then if he could help me, I’d end up with Rick, who wasn’t nice to me and didn’t like me. And he didn’t want Josie, that was for sure. And she’s the prettiest little thing. And smart? Girl’s as smart as a whip! Her teachers are always making a fuss over her.”
“Okay, you got a baby-sitter and a job.”
“I’d gotten on with the neighbors by then, and I may not be the smartest person in town, but I put by a little cash when I could. I knew Rick wasn’t good for much, and he wasn’t good for long. I got a job like the one I’d had in Odessa. In a club.”
“Country club?” Charlene asked hopefully.
“Dance club.”
“Dance?”
“Strip. My uncle had a little strip club.”
Charlene took a breath. “When did you next hear from Rick?”
“About three months ago. I ain’t heard a peep from him in all these years. Josie’s eleven…and she’s scared to death she’s gonna have to leave me and Angie.”
“Angie?”
“I had another baby three years after Josie…another pretty little girl. She’s eight. I didn’t marry her daddy, but her daddy sees her sometimes and even gives me a little money now and again.”
“Her daddy is—?”
“A bouncer at one of the clubs I danced in.”
Charlene took a breath. “Meredith…I have to ask you this question. Are you, or have you ever been involved in prostitution?”
“No, ma’am! I mean, I ain’t gonna sit here and pretend I didn’t ever find one of the gentlemen attractive…and I been known to accept a gift if the giver is a nice sort…but I didn’t ever sell anything to anybody!”
Pam and Charlene exchanged looks.
“If there’s a custody dispute, your ex-husband will very probably say you were a prostitute.”
“He can’t prove nothing like that.”
“No arrest record?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t ever arrested…but I ain’t never been a prostitute.”
“What were you arrested for?”
“I was holding for someone one time. He must have seen an undercover cop in the bar and passed off to me.” She shook her head. “I ain’t the smartest girl in town, Ms. Dugan, but I ain’t ever done wrong on purpose.”
“Did you do time?”
“No, I got probation…and I don’t do drugs, either.”
“Okay, let’s fast-forward. Did your ex-husband tell you why he wants custody of Josie?”
She shrugged. “He’s married now, has a daughter of his own, and he says he wants to give Josie a nice home.”
The room was silent for a moment. Two of the three people present were seriously wondering if this might not be a good idea.
“And…did you talk about visitation? Joint custody? Any compromise?”
“No, we did not,” she said emphatically. “Because right after I said no he got me with a left hook to the jaw and liked to have knocked me out. So I took my girls to a shelter and got me one of them…you know…protection things.”
“Temporary restraining order?”
“Yes. Told him to stay away. Then I moved where I thought he wouldn’t find me. Ms. Dugan, he gave me custody and divorced us and never sent us no money or visited Josie…. He can’t have her now!”
“Well, Meredith, I’m not going to mislead you. This is not going to be a slam dunk.”
“I reckon Jake must’ve known that much because he wanted me to see you. He says you’re the best lawyer there is.”
“Isn’t that nice of Jake,” Charlene said, and though she smiled, she had strong homicidal urges toward her thoughtful ex-husband.
Speaking of the devil himself, Jake was sitting outside Charlene’s office, waiting, when the door opened. Meredith flew right into his arms, hugging him. “Jake, you’re right about Ms. Dugan. She’s just about the nicest person I ever met.”
“I told you so, didn’t I?”
“I have to visit the ladies’,” she said. “Then we can go.”
“This way, Meredith,” Pam said, leading her down the hall toward the community ladies’ room. Charlene and Jake were left alone.
Jake stood. “She’s something, isn’t she?” he asked, wiping at a stubborn spot on his pant leg. “I appreciate this, Charlie. It looks kind of bad for her and the kid, doesn’t it?”
Charlene shook her head. “You really tossed me a winner this time, Jake. The girl doesn’t stand a chance.”
“If anyone can help her, you can.”
“Every time you bring in one of these ‘favors,’ she’s worse off than the one before.”
“Charlie, you might be the first break this kid’s had in her life.”
“Well, remind her to call me to set up another appointment.”
“Will do. Give it your best shot, will you, Charlie? She’s a good kid. She’s had a lot of bad luck, you know?”
“I always give it my best shot, Jake.”
When he was gone and Pam returned, Charlene was waiting for her, leaning a hip casually against Pam’s desk. She was wearing a rare look—desperation. “Got any ideas?” she asked Pam.
Charlene shook her head. “You?” she asked.
Pam shook her head as well. “I wouldn’t want to be her.”
“How about them? The kids? I don’t even know where they’d be better off.”
“That’s a good place to start. We should find out if the ex-husband’s got anything to offer,” Pam said.
“If he does, it shouldn’t be hard to get support in exchange for shared custody. After all, he’s been delinquent for eleven years.”
“Jake could get us—”
Charlene w
as shaking her head. She employed the services of a number of investigators and each had certain specialties. Maxie Preston was not above using her sex appeal to put a gentleman suspected of the occasional indiscretion at a disadvantage. In lay terms, she wasn’t above setting traps. And she was a tiny blonde, something she had in common with Meredith. She did not, however, look like a mere child.
“I don’t want to use Jake on this,” Charlene said. “I think I’d rather use Maxie.”
“Maxie?” Pam asked. “She’s pretty high dollar for a pro bono. Why not let Jake help with this?”
“Because Jake’s not objective, and if there’s one thing we really can’t afford on this case it’s getting a loose cannon like Jake involved.”
“But Maxie…? You know I have this problem with the way she works,” Pam complained. She’d never been comfortable with that whole scenario.
“She doesn’t have the same constraints as we do, but she gets the job done.”
Pam made a face.
“Tell you what—you set her up on this investigation. You call her, meet with her, tell her what you want. Agree?”
“Agree.” Pam sighed. “That Meredith. Jake sure can pick ’em.”
“Haven’t we always said so.”
Pam left a message with Maxie’s voice mail, and the call was returned an hour later. By the background noise, Pam assumed Maxie was in her car. “My schedule is really tight, but if this is something urgent, I’ll make room.”
“You decide,” Pam replied. “We have a client, a very tiny twenty-six-year-old divorcée with an eleven-year-old daughter. The ex was forced to marry her as a minor, when she may have loosely resembled an eleven-year-old child. He abandoned her and the child almost immediately, never paid support and has returned to her life to sue for custody. It’s our concern that—”
Maxie cut her off. “You don’t have to explain. I did the math.”
“There’s also a chance he’s a good guy who wants to do the right thing. He’s forty-one, married, has a child from the second marriage…. The only hiccup in that theory is that, according to our client, he slugged her.”
“Yeah,” Maxie said. “I’ll bet he’s a peach.”
“You know what Charlene wants? Pay records, work history, et cetera.”
“Et cetera meaning kinky habits. Fine. I’ll need the usual retainer, a workable timetable—say, at least a week, preferably three—and I’ll have to interview the woman. I can go see her at work. Tell her I’m coming.”
“The usual retainer?” Pam asked.
“Four hundred. Cashier’s check. I’m going to be working not far from your office tonight. I should be wrapping up at around eight. That too late for you?”
“No, I’ll be here,” Pam said, fully expecting Maxie to offer to stop by and pick up her check.
“Good. Swing by Romeo’s. I’ll meet you in the ladies’ room.”
“The ladies’ room?”
“I’m working the bar. Nice gentleman whose wife keeps finding lipstick on his collar. But hey, a girl’s gotta pee, huh?”
“Oh, Jesus.”
Maxie laughed loudly, then honked the horn and yelled, “Nice signal, dipshit! So, Pam, shall we say eightish, in the ladies’? I’ll be the one wearing the provocative décolletage.”
“See you then,” Pam sighed, hanging up quickly. What was it Charlene always said of this private investigator—she got the job done.
Charlene left the office at six for a dinner meeting, leaving Pam to clear away the remnants of the day and lock up. Pam didn’t mind the task. In fact, she quite liked it. It gave her a sense of completion to be the last one in the office at night, and often the first one to arrive in the morning. And tonight she had time to kill before meeting Maxie. There were still people about in the building, in the law offices—associates, paralegals, clerks, until late at night, sometimes midnight. They were tucked away in offices, cubicles, conference rooms and the centrally located law library.
After filing some case books back in the office’s central law library, Pam returned to her desk—and found a long-stemmed red rose. She touched it suspiciously and lifted it gingerly. Then she lay it back down on her desk and began to gather her things together. A few days before, she had found a note on her calendar, wishing her a good day. Then there was a scribbled invitation to meet him in the evening for a beer at a quiet little neighborhood sports bar. She had put both in her purse, unwilling to have them found in the trash by even the janitor. He should not be doing things like this, she thought. He had absolutely no guarantee she wouldn’t go to his supervisor and complain, insist he be sent looking for work elsewhere.
Unless he had seen some kind of sparkle in her eyes that suggested he was on safe ground. She’d have to check that, make sure she offered him no encouragement.
She went into Charlene’s bathroom, dug around under the sink and found a bud vase. She’d make sure she offered him no encouragement tomorrow, but for now she’d enjoy the rose. Then she thought better of it, returned the vase to its storage place and went back to her desk where she pitched the rose into the trash can.
But there was something she couldn’t hide even from herself. It felt very nice to be pursued, even if there was no possibility of an eventual relationship. And she knew, even if no one else noticed, that she was dressing differently. She chose the silkier dresses over the wool, opted for the shorter skirts, sheerer blouses, and took pains with her hair and makeup.
Pam packed her tote and briefcase, slung her raincoat over her arm and headed out the door, snapping off the lights. The dead bolt turned, the office lay still. Ninety seconds later the dead bolt turned back, the lights flashed on and Pam plucked the rose out of the trash can and slipped it delicately into her tote.
Romeo’s was an upscale steak house attached to a large downtown hotel. It was frequented by businessmen and women who traveled to Sacramento and those who worked in the downtown area. The bar and restaurant were furnished in dark woods and leathers, a motif that lent itself to wealth, secrecy and warmth.
Pam didn’t see Maxie so she settled into a chair at the bar not very far from the hallway to the rest rooms. She decided a glass of wine while she waited wouldn’t kill her. A glance at her watch told her she had at least twenty minutes, and the place was not crowded. There were a couple of women across the room engaged in deep conversation, a group of young men on the other side of the bar standing around a high table and a couple snuggling in a booth in the corner.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Just a glass of Merlot, thanks.”
He brought it back in moments and she had a five-dollar bill on the bar. “You’re taken care of. The gentleman.” He inclined his head, and Pam followed the direction to a gentleman of about forty-five on the other side of the bar. He lifted his glass and gave her a smile.
“Oh,” she said. “Listen. Thank him, but please, tell him I’m…that is, I…I’m meeting my fiancé.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand perfectly,” the bartender said. But he left her five on the bar.
Fiancé? Hah!
She sipped her wine and tried not to look at the snuggling couple in the booth across from her. The raven-haired beauty was all over her date. Pam wasn’t sure where the woman’s hands were, but it gave her a shiver just to consider. She looked instead at the group of young men. But when she noticed that one of them resembled Ray just slightly, that shiver was back—personalized.
Ever since Charlene had announced that she was getting married, Pam’s perspective on her own romantic life had gone berserk. She found herself thinking obsessively about a certain young security guard, even thinking she saw him when he was nowhere near. The temptation grew daily, even though she hadn’t seen him in a while. There were times her fantasy life was so rich and deep that if he should come upon her suddenly, she might faint into his arms and beg him to—She was clearly out of control.
She risked her tender, neglected libido and stole a
look at the passionate couple only to find the woman looking at her. It was just a glance, but the woman gave her head a little, almost imperceptible toss in the direction of the rest rooms. Then she gave her gentleman friend a little nuzzle. The woman slid out of the booth, gave her short leather skirt a little tug and walked to the rest rooms. There was something about that walk and the low-cut sweater that struck Pam. She glanced at her watch. Eightish. She lifted her glass and carried it with her.
“Right on time,” Maxie said as she pulled the lush black wig off her head and gave her blond hair a healthy ruffle to bring it back to life.
Pam availed herself of one of the lounge chairs in the rest room to watch the show and enjoy the rest of her wine. The ladies’ room was deserted except for the private detective and the paralegal, but something told Pam that the presence of other women wouldn’t have much effect on Maxie. “Amazing,” she said. “So, this means…?”
“It means I’m done for the night.” She pulled the pink sweater over her head and revealed a tiny microphone in her push-up bra with a threadlike cord that snaked around her torso and into her skirt. “He wanted to get a room. He said he’s separated, which will come as a surprise to his wife.” She picked up her purse, turned it inside out—which made it a completely different article and much larger—and put her wig and sweater inside. Off came the leather skirt, inside of which was a neatly folded brown silk blouse. Tucked into her panty hose was a slim, flat recording device. “We were barely past the introductions before he was trying to slide his hand up my leg. Imagine his surprise if he’d run into this?” She laughed, tapping the recorder.
Maxie turned her black leather skirt inside out so that it became brown leather, shrugged into her blouse, freshened her lipstick and was ready to go.
“Miraculous,” Pam said.
“Check please?”
“Check?” Pam asked.
“Your reason for meeting me here. The retainer!”
“Oh!” Pam put down her wine and retrieved an envelope with the check and some vital information about the people involved. “You know, what you were doing with that man…”