Checkered Crime: A Laurel London Mystery (7 page)

“I have to tell you something and I don’t want to be driving when I tell you.” I put the car in park and turned slightly toward her in my seat.

“Oh no. I’ve got a chill just waiting for you to tell me you’ve been renting a room over at the Windmill for the nasty men to visit. Wait until I get my hands on Louie Pelfrey for giving you a room!” She balled her fists up.

“Oh my God!” My frustration level was peeking. “I’m not a prostitute and I’m not driving around strange men.”

“Morty is going to have to give your other car back or else,” Trixie warned.

“That’s what I have to tell you.” I reached over and grabbed her hand. “Morty fired me a few days ago and I’m currently working on getting the job back.”

“What?” Trixie mouth flew open.

“He said something about downsizing. But Carmine didn’t know anything about it.” I spewed like a volcano. “I didn’t do anything to get fired. Scout’s honor.” I put my hand in the air after I used my finger to cross my heart. “In fact the stranger Mr. Chiconi saw with me is in town for the big event I had been working on for over a year. He needed a ride from the Airport Hotel because he got in late and spent the night there. He is going to spend the rest of his trip in town so staying at the Windmill made much more sense for him.”

Trixie put her knife in the glove box, slammed it closed, and then crossed her arms. I could see a twinge of disappointment on her face. She adjusted her tin foil hat.

“I bet they are coming.” She tapped the homemade hat. “Strange things are happening and I have to take care of you.”

“You take great care of me.” I reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Who is coming?” I asked, questioning the deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes.

“I saw it on the SyFy channel.” She nodded, as sure as shit she was right. “The aliens are coming because everyone is going crazy around this town.”

“Aliens?” My eyes narrowed.

“Yes. That documentary said that if you put tin foil on your head, they can’t zap into your brain.”
Crinkle, crinkle.
The hat made sounds as she smoothed her hand over it to mold better to her head. “I bet they got to Morty. Thank God I made you one before I left home because I knew if you were prostituting, they had gotten you too.” She dug deep in her pink bag and pulled out another tin foil hat and slapped it on my head.

“I don’t think so.” I reached up to take it off and she slapped my hand away.

“Don’t you dare take that off,” she warned me.

“Just listen,” I begged her. “You know when I went to New York to meet the publicity people.” I didn’t mention the fact she’s been mad as hell that I did. “Well, they are here to look at Walnut Grove for that big music festival. It would bring so much income to the town, not to mention that
I
brought them here.”

I took the tin foil off my head.

“No aliens are coming here.” I smiled to try to ease her mind even though my mind was a jumbled mess. “Don’t watch the SyFy channel anymore,” I ordered her.

“You think Morty will give you your job back?” Trixie asked. “He is the only one in this town I could get to give you a job. A real job, Laurel.”

“I know.” I felt ice spreading through my stomach. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint Trixie. After all she had done for me. “But this car is all mine.”

“It’s nothing to brag about,” Trixie snarled.

“No, but it’s mine and Morty gave me fifteen hundred dollars which I plan to give to Pastor Wilson to pay for the next three months.” That was a lie. But it wasn’t a bad idea.

“I’m glad to see you are thinking into the future.” Trixie wrung her hands. “I’m going to go see Morty and knock some sense into him.”

“No. Let me handle things. I’m a grown woman,” I reminded her, even though some would argue I still had a lot of growing up to do.

“And that is supposed to make me feel better?” Trixie was good at making smart remarks, one thing I loved about her.

“No, but let me handle it. If I don’t get my job back with the Underworld Music Festival people in town, then you can give him a piece of your mind.” I smiled. She smiled back. I reached over and patted her hand. “I don’t need the knife.”

“Oh yes you do.” She rubbed the dash like it was going to give good juju to the sharp metal blade and keep it safe. “Especially if you are driving around some man that we do not know.” She jabbed her finger in her chest. “I do not know. Put that hat on.”

There was no sense in arguing with her. When she had her mind set, it was set.

“Let’s get you home,” I suggested and stuck the tin foil hat on my head to make her happy.

“I do need to catch up on my soap operas.” She straightened her shoulders and put her hands in her lap. She seemed a little more satisfied.

Chapter Eight

After I dropped Trixie off, I decided to go home and check on Henrietta.  What else did I have to do?

The quickest way to get home from Trixie’s house was to take River Road and cut down Third Street to turn right on Main Street just in case the raspberry chocolate chunk ice cream craving hit. The only thing that hit me was a death stare from Pastor Wilson who was standing on the corner of Third and Main talking to a few locals.

“Damn,” I grunted.

I had told Trixie I was going to give that money to Pastor Wilson and I knew she would check on me. It was in my best interest to keep my word and now was the time. Otherwise I might forget the urgency and spend it on foolish things…like ice cream.

I pulled off the side of the road and into a parking spot across the street from Cow’s Lick and next to Friendship Baptist Church.

Out of the rearview mirror, I saw that Pastor did a double-take my way. Gracefully, he put his hands on the smalls of the locals’ backs and guided them away from me.

I grabbed my hobo and jumped out of the Old Girl.

“Pastor! Pastor!” I screamed and jogged toward him. The louder I yelled the faster his legs moved.

The two locals turned around but he didn’t.

When Pastor Wilson did turn around, all I could see was the same anger I had seen when I was fifteen years old when he called me a little blackmailer.

Every Christmas they would open their home to one lucky orphan from the orphanage and spoiled them with lavish gifts.

That one particular Christmas I was on my best behavior and I did want them to pick me, which they did. Once they got me home and sat me down, only then did I realize the rules they expected me to play by.

You will do a testimony in front of the church congregation at Christmas Eve service. You will tell them how great it is in our home and how thankful you are for us picking you. Plus you will ask to be baptized. You will write an article to the Walnut Grove paper saying how great the Wilsons are and the church made you feel so welcome. And you will smile the entire time doing it or we will take you right back to the orphanage where you can eat slop instead of a fine turkey meal on Christmas Day.

Instead of playing by their rules, I played by my own. Little did the Wilsons know that I had a natural knack for hacking, namely bank accounts. So after our “little chat,” I happily agreed to be all grateful for the charity, but Laurel London didn’t take no one’s charity, not even a Baptist preacher. Their computer was right there in the guest bedroom. Prime picking for a con like me.

I did my magic. The next thing I knew, I was down at the local Wal-Mart picking up my online order with Derek…right there to give me a hand.

So when I needed a place to live and he owned it, I reminded him of our little agreement that I wouldn’t tell the world that he really didn’t buy those gifts for the orphanage that particular Christmas and his good religious image would be shattered. Now I was happy to say I was the Pastor and Rita’s newest renter.

Granted. He called me a blackmailer. I said it was just God’s way of helping me get my own place.

“Pastor, if I didn’t think you were a good Christian man, I’d think you were ignoring me.” I always knew how to give a good dig to someone in his position.

“Yes Laurel, what can I help you with?”
Ahem
, he cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back on his heels.

I looked up. The sun covered his face. He was a slender man. Always wore a suit that was either grey or black. And he stood six foot three. I came to his shoulders. He had thinning hair and a pointy nose.

I took the money Morty had given me out of my hobo and handed it over to Pastor Wilson.

“What’s this?” He looked perplexed.

“I wanted to pay three months rent up front.” I smiled and turned around knowing he was shitting his pants. I walked back to the car.

Every month I was a tad bit late on my rent and every month he would send Rita to collect from me. He was too chicken shit to face me. I guess I just haven’t gotten over the fact that he used orphans to create his own good guy image. What man of God did that?

“Thank you, Laurel.” Pastor’s voice was unsure at first but escalated. “You sure are a good tenant.”

I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it with my back turned. I had gotten his goat and he knew it just as much as I did. I put my hand in the air and waved over my shoulder. At least I wouldn’t be seeing him for three more months.

I jumped back in the car and headed north on Main and turned on Second Street. Friendship Baptist’s parking lot was on the corner and next to that was the Walnut Grove Courthouse and next to that was the Walnut Grove Savings. Yes. The same bank I had gotten the money to pay for the pizza.

Funny how Pastor Wilson owned the building and the apartment on top.

“Home sweet home.” I pulled into the furthest spot in the bank parking lot
—
where I was told I could park. The rest were for the bank customers.

I could hear Henrietta scratching at the door as I climbed the steel steps up to the efficiency.

I unlocked the door and pushed my way in.

“Hey girl.”

Henrietta took off under the couch where I plopped down. “Momma has a new gig which means you won’t go hungry.”

When I lost my job at Porty Morty’s, Henrietta and Trixie were the first two people I thought of. So Henrietta wasn’t a real person, but she was all I had.

I pulled my hobo closer to me and looked inside for the cash from the muscled client from this morning.

Carefully I counted each hundred like it was a piece of fine China. The cash Morty gave me was a three week paycheck.

“One, two, three, four, five.” My eyes got bigger as the number went up. “Twelve, thirteen, fourteen,” my voice escalated, “two thousand dollars!”

I jumped up off the couch, waving the money in the air.

“Whoop whoop! How you doin’?” I asked the cash like it was going to answer. I started kissing the bills. “All for a little ride to and fro.”

I reached for my bag to grab my phone to set the alarm for tomorrow morning to make sure I had plenty of time to pick up muscle man…money man when he told me to.

“Damn.” I threw the purse back on the couch when I remembered my phone was gone. It looked like a little bit of this money was going to have to go toward a new phone. Oh well, hopefully he really would give me a little more cash when I picked him up in the morning.

After counting the money one more time, Henrietta and I decided to watch a little TV before I had to get ready for bowling night.

Gia, Carmine, Derek, the Fiddle twins and I were on a bowling team, Here For The Beer, at Lucky Strikes Lanes on the corner of Grove and Oak Streets. Gia claimed we needed another player since all the other teams had a round number of eight and asked Carmine’s best friend from Louisville, Antonio, to come down and play as a sit in.

That’s what she told him.

She told me that I was going to be set up on a date with him. If he was anything like Carmine, she could forget it.

I opted to wear my skinny jeans with my white tee-shirt and sneakers. The bowling shoes were ancient ones and nothing I could wear would look good with them. To dress up the tee, I put on a big silver beaded necklace and matching bracelet along with my watch. I ran a brush through my hair and a couple of swipes of mascara to show off my grayish blue eyes. Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I feel like I can see right through them because they look transparent when I wear mascara.

Everyone always complimented me on my eyes, always asking which side of the family I got them from. Unfortunately I was never able to answer that question. I would smile and say thank you.

Trixie always told me that I was beautiful but my actions made me ugly.

It was a nice night. I gave Henrietta a can of food and grabbed my bag. I decided to walk the block over to Lucky Strikes. No sense in using up my gas. I tried to stay away from the Gas-N-Go as much as I could.

Lucky Strikes’ large bowling pin sign flickered on and off with a buzzing sound. No matter where you were on Main Street, you could see the pin. Owners Bud and Sheila McKay said it was too expensive to fix all the neon lights. Everyone knew that Monday night was bowling night. Most of Walnut Grove was there.

“Evening.” I smiled and pushed my way through the crowd to lane three.

Normally I would grab a beer on my way over, but if I batted my eyes at Antonio maybe I’d get a free beer.

The gang was all there plus two extras. One could only be Antonio because the other was Jax Jackson.

“What are you doing here?” I tried to breathe normally as my heart sped up. Just looking at him made my heart race, something that had never happened to me before. Antonio sure wasn’t doing it for me.

Antonio looked like he had eaten a little too much pasta and forgot to exercise after. Not that dating a heavier guy was beneath me or anything, but he had to be able to go the distance in bed. Antonio didn’t look like he could go from here to the bar without breaking a sweat. There goes the free beer.

“Beer?” Jax smiled while shoving a beer bottle in my face.

“Be nice Laurel. He was sitting at the bar all by himself so I asked him to join us.” Gia was sitting on the orange plastic bench, bent over lacing up the generic bowling shoes.