Ting-A-Ling (6 page)

Danielle lay on her side with her back to me, breathing deeply. She suddenly rolled over and snuggled up against me. “Mmm-mmm so safe,” she said.

I felt something solid against my side and reached down. I felt around her waist, and then slowly recalled some of our activity from the night before.

She giggled, snuggled in even closer and whispered in my ear, “Your belt, remember? Ride ‘em, cowboy.” She gave a little laugh like she was the only one in on the joke. Then she draped her leg over mine and went back to breathing deeply.

I figured it would be impolite to wake or disturb her comfort in any way, so I drifted back to sleep, too.

* * *

Louie was seated at his picnic table desk. Surprisingly, he was reading a file instead of sleeping. It was almost two in the afternoon before I’d made it into the office. I think Danielle felt reasonably safe and very content by the time I left. I seemed to hurt wonderfully, all over, and I was having trouble wiping the smile off my face. I was also minus my belt.

“You look happy,” Louie said.

“I’ve been working a case,” I replied and headed toward the coffee pot.

“A case that required lipstick?”

“What?”

“Your neck, on the right side and up on your forehead. She must have been checking to see if you had any brains,” Louie said.

“Oh, yeah. See I had…”

“Forget it. Hey, if you empty that pot, make a new one. Okay?” he said and then returned to the file spread out in front of him.

I made a fresh pot of coffee, wiped the lipstick off my face, and asked, “What do know about a guy named Renee Paris?”

Louie looked up from his file and gave a loud sigh. His chins shook and he stared at me for a long moment, deep in thought. Then he asked, “The developer guy?”

“Yeah.”

“I know enough general information that I’d warn you about any involvement what-so-ever. I think there’s a pretty long trail of bodies in his wake. Not that he’s killed anyone, but you’re never going to come out on the winning end of a deal with him. He’s one of those guys who’ll tell you that he’s sorry you lost everything and you’re on the hook for a couple of million, but that wasn’t his original intention, so it’s just your tough luck. Of course, somehow he always seems to exit unscathed.”

“Why would anyone even get involved with the guy?” I was thinking about Jimmy, again.

“Good question. Wishful thinking on their part, I would guess. He travels in a world where a lot of folks believe their own news clippings and they begin to think they’re immune from making a mistake. They’ve probably heard about him, maybe they’ve even been cautioned, but he holds out some gigantic return on their investment and they can’t quite see past that. Besides, he’s one of them, nice car, right schools, friends of their friends. Then the rug gets pulled out from underneath them and they find out they don’t have a legal leg to stand on. Reality isn’t really a strong suit for a lot of those folks.”

That seemed to sum up Danielle and her little world.

“Please, don’t tell me he’s your client,” Louie said.

“Yeah, that’s right. Do you like his shade of lipstick? Come on give me some credit, Louie. No, it’s just a minor deal actually. But, you just described the scenario. A trust-fund beauty lent him money and like you said, now she doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on.”

“Are you trying to find some angle for her? Because, believe me the guy may be a jerk, actually an absolute asshole. But, he’s all about himself and he’s not stupid. He always seems to be covered.”

“No, I’m not trying to figure out an angle. I just told him she wanted to be paid back or at least have some sort of payment plan set up.”

“Let me guess, she did the deal on a handshake?”

“Well, I’d say he probably got a lot more than a handshake.” I thought back to my passionate night and then again this morning.

As Louie shook his head his chins sort of waddled from side to side. “I’d say it’s probably gone, her money. How much we talking?”

“Fifty-grand.”

“That’s a lot, but not by Paris’ standards.” Louie actually sounded surprised. “He’s doing deals for multiple millions. Things like selling shares in some incredible retail development where historic buildings used to stand. Building condos that ruin the view for everyone else. Fifty grand sounds like a lot, but it’s small potatoes in his world, nothing, just chump change to a weasel like him.”

I told Louie about Paris’ house, over by the Witches Hat, how it was listed a category three nuisance, unfit for habitation, even though the taxes were paid until next June.

“There’s an angle there. I don’t know what it is, but there’s an angle. Maybe he can take some sort of tax loss on the property for the next five years if the city demo’s it. Believe me, he’s not the sort of guy to just let that happen. He’s working some sort of scam, you can bet your life on it.”

“You think my client is in any kind of danger?”

“Your client. You mean the one with the lipstick?”

I nodded.

“No. I mean, not physical, if that’s what you’re suggesting. But, I doubt she’ll ever see her fifty-grand again and I’d maybe change all her passwords and double check access to her bank accounts, that sort of thing. Might want to hop on that right away and get it done as soon as possible.”

Chapter Thirteen

I was in The Spot,
seated at the far end of the bar. I’d been drinking a couple of Mankato beers and I signaled Mike for another refill. I was trying to wash Jimmy White out of my mind.

“You seem to be kind of quiet tonight,” Mike said as he slid my pint back across the bar.

“What can I tell you, Michael? I’m just out there trying to make the world a little better place one good deed at a time.”

He shook his head like he didn’t believe me, and then moved down the bar for some more enlightening conversation.

I took a sip and glanced up at the TV mounted in the corner. The news was on. I looked at my watch to double check. Amazingly it was already ten. God, I’d just stopped in for one on the way home, go figure.

The news was leading with a local story, fire fighters battling a blaze in freezing temperatures. An arctic vortex they called it. They were interviewing some poor, frost bitten fire chief with icicles hanging from his helmet. The desolate scene was lit by flashing lights coming from the emergency vehicles that gave the whole place a sort of strobe-like effect. The fire trucks, along with all the equipment and the fire fighters were coated with ice. They were still pouring gallons of water onto the rubble of the smoldering building.

I couldn’t hear what was being said so I returned to my freshly filled pint and thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t out there freezing my ass off. Right around eleven I thought it would be a good idea to drink and dial.

“Give me one for the ditch, Mike,” I said and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi Heidi, it’s the answer to all your dreams.”

“Tommy?”

“No, me, Dev.”

“God, have you been drinking?”

“No. I’m…well, okay, maybe a couple. Just wondered if you might be interested in some company?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, very. Look, do you need a ride?”

“That sounds fun.”

“No, not that kind of ride, God get your mind out of the gutter. I meant a ride home. I guess I could pick you up if you need it.”

With a case of beer under my belt a ride home with Heidi lecturing about personal responsibility and my idiotic behavior didn’t seem to be the way I wanted to end the day. “It’s okay, sweetie, I’m good to drive. I’ll take the back way. Thanks,” I said and hung up.

I’d just ordered another beer when someone came up behind me.

“You don’t really need that, Dev.”

I turned to see who it was. “Heidi?” I wasn’t sure at first. Her hair was some sort of recent peroxided blonde thing, almost white. Then she had that little black dot makeup thingy on her face like Marilyn Monroe. Even in my current state, I knew better than to comment on her new hair color. So I figured I would play it safe. “Decide to join me?”

“No. Come on, let’s go. Mike, tell sloppy here he doesn’t need that beer.”

“She just might be right, Dev. You don’t need to get pulled over on the way home.”

“Yeah, I get it. Okay, I’ll maybe just have a Jameson instead and then…”

“No, Dev. Come on, I’ll give you a lift if you want it, otherwise I’m going back home and you can just take your chances.”

Chapter Fourteen

I woke up facing
my bedroom door. It was early enough in the morning to still be dark outside. I couldn’t really remember the ride home, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t been wearing the black bra that was hanging from the bedroom doorknob.

I rolled over and my first thought was I’d picked up someone’s grandmother. Then I hazily remembered Heidi showing up with her new hair color to give me a ride. In the dim light of the bedroom my mind began to gradually replay events until I arrived at my phone call to Heidi. Once again she was a true friend, although I still wasn’t sure about the hair color. I guess it was blonde, but in this light it appeared snow white. I knew I’d be asked and so I began to prepare my response.

I walked up the street while she was in the shower, picked up some of her favorite caramel rolls from the bakery and some orange juice. She was on her second roll and eyeing mine. I pulled my plate across the kitchen counter closer to me.

“Okay, you’ve had time to think about it. So?” she asked.

“I like it,” I lied. “I was the luckiest guy in The Spot last night. God, it was like getting a ride home from Marilyn Monroe,” I said.

She stared at me for a very long moment, looking like I was out of my mind. “Not my hair, you idiot. God, you’re certifiable. No, I mean the conversation we had when I brought you home. The reason I stayed with you last night.”

“You needed a reason?”

She gave me a warning look.

“Okay, Jesus, just joking. Let me ask what do you think?” I was at an absolute loss, wondering what in the hell she was talking about and playing for time, hoping she’d say something that would jog my memory.

“Honestly? I think it was really sweet, Dev. In your own sort of Neanderthal way. I just didn’t know you had it in you. Imagine, all those years ago and you still remember that little boy not telling on you. What was his name, Joey?”

Bingo. “Jimmy. Jimmy White. Yeah, we were best buds as kids. He was just a lot more driven than me. Well, and smarter, more academic, nicer, kinder, did I mention better looking?”

She shook her head. “You’re not getting out of this, buster. Admit it, you actually have a heart.”

“Hello. Look, after all I’ve done for you over the years. We’ve been…”

“I know why you’ve done things for me over the years, and it had nothing to do with the heart part of your body.” She forced a laugh.

“Maybe sometimes,” I said then quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, like I guess I said. I just sort of snapped when this Paris guy gave me the attitude and then there I was, thirty years ago, standing in front of Mr. Graham, the two of us, Jimmy and me. We had our slingshots in our hands, I had the lousy aim and Jimmy didn’t give me up. He took the rap and said he did it. I think his folks grounded him for a week and I sort of stayed away for maybe a month. I never had the backbone to fess up.”

“Oh, Dev, honey, you were just a little boy. You’d do it now,” she said and gave my arm a squeeze.

“I’d have a lot better aim, now. Anyway, I just had a vision of everything going down the drain and Jimmy was the only guy left standing. Jack-ass Paris probably snuck off unscathed and my pal lost everything, his house, his business and all his money. Guess he felt he didn’t have anything left or no one cared and he just ended it all. I didn’t even know about it until months after. Christ, they found his damn car abandoned in the middle of the High Bridge. Apparently, someone reported he just stopped the car, got out, walked to the rail and jumped.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if they even found the body. I missed the obit, the wake, the funeral. I’m guessing under the circumstances it would have been a pretty private affair. But I should have been there. I owed him.”

“You may not want to hear this, Dev. But, I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. When was this, two, three years ago?”

“Two-thousand-seven, actually. You know, in the midst of the financial collapse that we’ve all recovered from.”

Heidi was a very smart money person and a very shrewd deal maker. She didn’t respond to my comment.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean you. You think I should look up his wife? I mean his widowed wife.”

“I suppose you could. But honestly, what do you expect to accomplish? It may be she blames herself for his death. The circumstances you described, I’m guessing things could still be awfully tough for her. Maybe she thinks it was her fault. She just might like to never, ever be reminded of those days. Did they have any children?”