Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 01 - Kitchen Addiction! (30 page)

He
stepped around the desk to the door Helena came in through and pressed a
buzzer.  The door opened, the kindly tissue matron greeting him.  “The victim’s
not filing charges.  There’s plausible doubt.  The department’s not pressing
charges at this time,” he said.

“Well
thank goodness.  Any more tears and we’d be calling in the Army Corp of
Engineers,” the female officer replied.  “Bring her up to the front,” she said
and closed the door.

Helena
sniffed and blew into another
tissue.  The wad she had in her hands had now grown to the size of a
volleyball.

“Here,”
Appletree offered, and held up a wastebasket.  Helena tossed the ball in.  It
landed with a thud.  Appletree and I cringed.

“Thanks,”
Helena sniffed.

“C’mon.”

We
followed out the way we’d come in, but this time we took a detour to a back
room with a table, chairs and a large mirror. I guessed this was an
interrogation room.  Appletree left Helena and I alone, disappearing after
telling us he needed to get some forms.

For
a few minutes there was just quiet, punctuated by her irregular sniffs.

“Thanks
for believing me and not pressing charges,” Helena said at last.  She took
another tissue from her box and blew.

“No
biggie.” I really didn’t want to have too much conversation with Helena while Appletree was watching from the other side of the ‘mirror’.  If Helena started chatting about her Uncle Vlad – Vito – this would get a lot stickier, for both
of us.

After
several more minutes of non-productive quiet, Appletree came back in with a
clipboard and some forms and a report with Helena’s statement about finding my
purse at the corner of Prince and Orange Streets.

“Just
outside the Lickety-Split Laundry,” Helena nodded helpfully.

“Mina,
you sure?” Appletree asked.  I nodded.  He shook his head again.  “Okay, you
can go on out.  I’ll process Helena out of here,” he said.

“Thanks,”
I said, wondering how I was going to hook up with Helena afterward without
tipping off Appletree.  I waved bye-bye to Helena, and went back to the
reception area and rejoined Bauser and Norman and Jim.

“What
now?” Bauser asked, while Jim slobbered my arm in greeting.

“Uh,
well, I guess we go home,” I faked brightly.

Bauser
looked at Norman.  The officer behind the desk opened the drawer/chute thingy,
and offered me back my driver’s license.  I took it and tossed it in my purse.

“Yup.
Let’s go. Our work here is done,” I sang, and led the parade toward the
elevators.  I pushed the button, the elevator arrived, and we got it.

“Mina,
where’s Helena?” Norman asked.

“Shh.”

“Huh?”

I
rolled my eyes and hissed, “The ears have walls.”

“Huh?”

I
led us out of the elevator, into the hotel-style public lobby and outside.
Bauser’s and Norman’s glasses fogged back up immediately.  Jim led us
lopsidedly up the street to Bauser’s car.   We were almost legitimately
handicapped for a few seconds.   That probably explained why Jim was so happy.

“What’s
the game plan?” Bauser asked.

“Well,
first, we can’t let Appletree see we know Helena,” I said.

“Oh
jeez, that’s right,” Norman agreed.

“But
we can’t let her wander around Lancaster and maybe blow Vito’s cover,” Bauser
said.

“Right. 
So maybe we wait for her and offer her a ride somewhere?” I asked.

“Right,
and then what? Kidnap her?  Escort her out of state?”

“I
have no idea,” I said.  “But maybe if we offer her a ride, she’ll tell us why
she’s here. Maybe she’s just doing the tourist outlet thing?”

Bauser
shrugged and pulled out his keys.  His car sat waiting – with a ticket stuck to
the windshield.  He detached it with a sigh, and put it under his window screen
visor.  Norman let Jim and I in the back.  Then he pulled the ticket out of the
visor, opened his wallet and pulled out some cash, and placed it all back.

“Hey,”
Bauser began.

Norman
waved him off.  “You’re
unemployed, remember?  When you’re gainfully employed again, you can buy me
some Krumpthfs,” he said.

“Thanks,
man,” Bauser said.

“No
problem, dude.”

I
hunched down in the back, grateful they didn’t break out into some, “I love
you, man,” stuff, and also trying not to think of how many, many cases of
Krumpthfs a traffic ticket’s fine would actually buy you.

We
pulled away from the drive-up, drove around the block, then parked across from
the police station.  Norman got out to put some change in the parking meter.

Bauser
turned to me. “You know, I’m a little worried about Norman,” he said in a low,
almost conspiratorial kind of voice.  I nodded.  All this spending, no matter
how loaded he was, was pretty uncharacteristic.  “I just hope he doesn’t go
into shock or something.” I nodded again.

We
waited.  We sweated.  We unrolled the windows and hung our heads out.  Sitting
with 3 people and a large doggie in an Aspire in August gets pretty close.  Especially
with a pooting pooch.

After
a few thousand years, I saw Helena walking out the front entrance of the police
station.  “There she is,” I said.

“Right. 
Got it,” Bauser said, restarting the car and pulling away from the curb.  He
drove slowly behind Helena, following her, and made the left onto Queen.

I
hung my head out. “Hey, Helena, need a ride?”

Helena
looked startled.  “Oh, well. 
That’s very nice of you.  Especially since you thought I stole your purse,” she
said. And she started to cry. Again.

“Oh
jeez.  I hate it when women cry,” Norman sighed.  “I completely cave when my
wife or the girls start.”

“Deal
with it,” I muttered.  “It’s not like she’s going to hit you up for an
allowance.”

We
shoved Jim over and Helena squeezed in.

“Sorry
about Jim,” I apologized.

“Oh,
what a cute doggie!” Helena gushed.

I
looked across Jim at Helena while we sat sqooshed in the backseat, Jim panted,
wagging his tail, and decided it was appropriate to lie flat on his back across
both our laps for a belly rub.  Luckily for Helena, she got Jim’s head and
shoulder portions.  Not so lucky for me, since I got the vice versa.  “Uh, Jim,
ya know,” I said, trying to shove him on his side.

“Oh,
him is a nice doggie woggie, isn’t him?” Helena gushed some more, scratching
Jim’s ears.  I looked up and saw Bauser’s reflection in the rearview mirror.  I
was pretty sure Bauser was wishing he was a nice doggie woggie, too.

“So,
where to?” Bauser asked.

“Uh,
well, I don’t know.  I’ve only been in Lancaster for a few hours. That’s when I
found the purse and got arrested,” she said, starting a fresh brew of tears.

I
pushed on with, “Well, all’s well that ends well,” and handed her another
tissue from the almost empty box. “You here for the sales?  We could drop you
off at the outlets,” I fibbed.

“Actually,
I’m trying to look up some family,” Helena admitted.  “My boyfriend Mickey
asked me to find my uncle,” she said.

“Your
boyfriend Mickey?” I nearly shrieked.

Helena
sniffed.  “Well, sort of.  He’s
my daughter’s father, anyway,” she said.

“YOUR
DAUGHTER’S FATHER?”

Norman
turned around in his seat. 
“You’ll have to excuse her, miss.  Mina’s pretty traditional.  She’s not used
to the having children before boyfriends thing,” he faked.

“Oh,
that’s okay.  Me either.  It just kind of, well, happened.  And we do want to
get married.  That is, once Mickey’s out of prison,” she spluttered. And then
broke off into another fresh wail.

“Oh. 
That’s, uh, nice,” Bauser said, nearly driving into the car in front of us –
his gaze had been fixed in the rearview mirror at Helena.

“Uh,
hey, uh, would guys mind if I, uh… stopped here at this store and grabbed a
paper?” I lied.

“Nope,”
Bauser said, and pulled over.

“Norman, could I borrow some change?” I asked.

“Sure,”
he said, digging around in his backpack and handing me a couple of pounds of
quarters.  Yeesh.  Didn’t his shoulder hurt him?

“Great. 
Thanks.  Anything I can get you while I’m in there, Helena?”

“Oh.
Well.  Maybe, if you don’t mind, a box of tissues please,” she said, digging
around in her Dooney & Bourke handbag for her wallet.  I waved her off.

“I
got it.  On me.  Well, really Norman.  Welcome to Lancaster, ha ha,” I said,
and got out of Bauser’s car quick and hurried into the store in search of a
payphone, stat.

I
dashed into the store, grabbed a newspaper and a box of aloe vera tissues – I
figured Helena’s nose had to be pretty sore by now – and looked around for a
phone.

At
the rear of the store was some poor sad soul who was obviously down on his
luck.  “Thank, thanks a lot, man.  I appreciate that,” he said, hacking up a
lung into the receiver, and hanging up.  I cringed.  I began to realize the
appeal of cell phones and regretted my technophobia.

The
man left, wheezing goodbye to the clerk.  The clerk gave him a nod, then
continued reading his book from behind the counter.  I walked to the phone,
opened the box of Klean’ums, picked up the receiver with a tissue covered right
hand and wiped the mouthpiece off with another wad wrapped around my left
hand.  I dialed the keypad with my hands wrapped inside tissue mittens.  I
called my house, looking for Vito.

“Kitchen
Residence,” a jolly voice answered.  It was Vito.  He sounded very happy. He
was probably Swiffering.

“Hey,
Vito, it’s me.  Mina,” I said into the phone, holding the receiver about
fourteen inches from my mouth.

“Hey,
Mina, where you calling from? The bottom of a well? I can hardly hear yous,”
Vito said.

“I’m
calling from a payphone,” I said.

“A
public phone?  That’s not too sanitary.”

“I
know.  Believe me, I know.  Listen, Vito, we’ve got Helena with us.”

“You’re
kidding? You do? You mean she actually wants to talk to me?”

“Uh,
well, in a manner of speaking.  She doesn’t know we know you.”

“Oh. 
So why’s she with you?”

“We
thought if we offered her a ride, maybe we could find out why she was here in
the first place.  We were hoping she was outlet shopping.”

“Oh. 
That makes sense.  Was she?”

“No. 
She’s here because her boyfriend wants her to look up her uncle.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Mickey.”

“It
figures.”

“Actually,
sounds like he’s more of a fiancé.  He’s kind of promised to marry Helena once he’s out of prison.  Mostly because he’s her daughter’s father.”

I
heard a thump, and then silence.  “Vito? Vito!?”

For
a few long seconds, nothing … and then panting.

“It’s
alright, I’m alright, I’m alright, Toots.  Just lost my balance for a minute,
that’s all.”

“Well,
what do you want me to do?” I asked.

I
heard Vito sigh.  “Just bring her home.  I’ll take care of this,” he said.

“But
what if, umm… this means you have to relocate?”

“Hey,
there are worse things.  Tampa might not be so bad.  Besides, my niece is my
niece.  You just bring her home so we can get this all sorted out straight,” he
answered.

“Yuppers,”
I said and hung up, shaking my head.  Maybe Vito was right.  Tampa isn’t so
bad.  Besides which, it couldn’t have many more senior citizens than Lancaster.

I
paid the kid behind the counter, who rang me up, took the change and gave me a
receipt without taking his eyes off of his book.  “Good book?” I asked.

He
shrugged without looking up.  “It’s okay,” he said. “But nobody’s got whacked
yet,” he added.  I winced.

“Shame
about that poor guy,” I offered.  The kid looked up at me like I’d landed from
Pluto, the outcast non-planet.  “The guy at the payphone,” I explained.

“Oh,
him,” the kid shrugged.  “He just comes in here for cigarettes and to use the
payphone sometimes,” he said.

“That’s
a shame, especially for someone down on his luck like that,” I tried.

“Are
you kidding me?” the kid yelped.  “That’s our landlord.  He owns this building,
and the two parking garages behind it.”

I
cringed and walked out the door toward Bauser’s car, and saw Jim splayed across
the backseat with his head on Helena’s chest, and looking up at her in complete
adoration.  I opened the door, picked up his one hind leg and sat down.  Then I
passed Helena what was left of her box of tissues.  She looked at the opening. 
“Allergy attack,” I fibbed.