Chapter Fifteen
Truth be told, I was scared about confronting Tom
Lattimore
. When I took the girls to class, I chattered so much that Em said, “Mom, why are you talking about all this stuff? You’re usually so quiet in the morning. I need quiet to get ready for school.”
“What’s to get ready for second grade?” Maggie scoffed. “Now
fifth
grade is really hard.”
“So is second,” Em said, “and that wasn’t nice of you Maggie.”
I decided to shut up and drove the few blocks in silence.
At the school, I hugged each girl so fiercely they looked at me with questions in their eyes, but I just said, “Run along. Have a good day.”
It was too early to go to Tom’s office, so I went to my own. Keisha wasn’t in yet, and I rattled around in the quiet, empty office, rehearsing what I’d say to Tom
Lattimore
. I wouldn’t call ahead. I’d just count on catching him before he took off for the day.
Keisha came in, hung up her jacket and purse, looked at the pot of coffee I’d made and then at me with a quizzical look—I never made coffee. Finally she settled herself at her desk and asked, “Something I should know? Something happen between Saturday and this morning?”
I shook my head. “No, Otto was pleased as could be with his office and his new living quarters. I don’t think Mom was so pleased to give him up, but we left Otto to settle in and all went back to Mom’s for supper.”
She waited, knowing I’d go on.
“I’m going to go talk to Tom
Lattimore
this morning.”
Keisha sighed. “I knew you were bottling it up inside you all weekend. You’re sure he was behind the attack on Otto?”
“Of course I’m sure. It never occurred to me to doubt it. He wants Otto out of there. I talked to the other shop owners, and they’d all had visits, but no one was as stubborn as Otto. Tanya wants to stay but she won’t put herself and her child at risk. The sushi owner wasn’t around and his manager didn’t seem interested. The taqueria guy will move easily. I guess they don’t have much emotion invested in their businesses or our neighborhood.”
“You blame them, with what happened to Otto as an example? What if
Lattimore
says he didn’t do it?”
I crumpled. I hadn’t expected that, even thought of it. Of course he did it.
But that’s just what he did. He denied it.
I walked to his office, since it was only three blocks or so. It was a lovely fall day, crisp and cool but with the sun promising heat later in the day. People greeted me on the street, and I had no thought for much except how lovely our neighborhood is. Such thoughts vanished when I approached Tom’s office. Bella Garza was just leaving. She had the nerve—gall?—to look my way and wave. Then she climbed into the old green car and peeled off. In an instant, she took all my self-confidence with her.
My hand was shaking as I pushed open the door to Tom’s office. His receptionist looked up, but Tom had glanced out the window of his private office, a space where he could keep watch on the street, and had seen me coming. He rushed into the reception area, both hands extended.
“Kelly, this is a pleasant surprise. Or did we have a meeting I forgot to write down?”
With a gesture, he showed me into his office then to a cushy leather chair facing his desk. He sat opposite me and picked up a pencil to fiddle with and keep his hands busy.
I wondered if that was a sign of nervousness. “No, Tom, no appointment. I just walked down and took a chance on finding you in.”
“I’m glad you did. I have to leave in, oh, thirty minutes or so, but what can I do for you now?”
“Why did you do it, Tom? Why send goons to beat up Otto Martin and trash his store and all those valuable antique clocks?”
“Kelly, back up. What are you talking about?”
“You know very well,” I said, my voice rising.
Tom got up and closed his office door, then with a measured walk returned to his desk and picked up the pencil. “No, I honestly don’t. Start from the beginning please. No, wait.” He picked up his phone, punched a button, and said, “Carolyn, no calls. And cancel my nine-thirty appointment. I’ll reschedule.” Then he looked at me.
“Thanksgiving night,” I said, “a holiday when we are all grateful. Otto got home and found his store vandalized. Clocks thrown everywhere, many of them I’m sure beyond repair, some of them probably pretty valuable. Thoughtless, mean vandalism. Then later that night, they came and beat Otto badly. He went to the ER at JPS—well, the police took him.”
“The police?” He looked a little alarmed at that. “Is he all right now?”
“Yes, a bunch of us spent the weekend cleaning his store, and my mom fed him chicken soup and gave him TLC. He’s not moving, Tom.”
He put his hand to his forehead and stared at me. “Kelly, I had nothing to do with this, believe me.”
I was stubborn. I
knew
he had something to do with it. “Why should I believe you? You threatened me. You as much as told me you’d do anything to get this deal to go through. Just how much is it worth to you, Tom?”
“Not that much,” he said. “I didn’t know about it, I didn’t have anything to do with it. But I don’t expect you to believe me.”
I tried another approach. “I saw Bella Garza leaving here. What business do you have with her?”
“Who? Oh, that Mexican girl? She just came to deliver a message.”
“Weak, Tom. Did you know she’s been stalking me? Threatening me and my family? She says it’s because of her sister’s death, in the accident that involved my husband, but I think there’s more to it. Bella hated her sister.”
He began to pace. “Kelly, this is all too complicated for me. I don’t know this Bella Garza, didn’t even ask her name. She just brought me a message.” He went to his desk and picked up a sealed envelope. “See? I haven’t even read it yet. I saw you coming and put it aside.”
“Why don’t you read it, Tom?”
“No, I want to convince you first that I had nothing to do with beating that old man. Of course, he did say he’d kill me, but I didn’t take that seriously.”
Some instinct inside me pushed. “Read the message, Tom.”
He looked startled, then sat down and slit open the envelope—with a sterling letter opener, of course. He read, and his eyes widened. Then he crumpled the letter, threw it on his desk, and said, “Kelly, I can’t talk now, but you have to believe me. I didn’t ask anyone to target Otto Martin. Now I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.” He stood, clearly indicating that this little talk was over.
On the way back to the office, I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Bella’s car. I didn’t, but I did see Tom jump in his Mercedes convertible and roar away from his office, before I was half a block away. Puzzled, I hurried back to the office. I couldn’t wait to tell Mike about this, but I knew Keisha would pry the story out of me first.
She did, and I repeated it almost word for word, the way I remembered it. I expected wisdom from Keisha, but all she said was, “Don’t that beat all? I suspect he didn’t do it, Kelly. What now?”
I had no idea what now, but Bella solved that problem for me. She called the office within an hour. “Stay away from Tom
Lattimore
, Ms. O’Connell.” Her voice dripped sarcasm when she called me by name. “There are people bigger than him who want this store on Magnolia, and they’ll get it. I advise you to get out of the way
now.
Especially if you care about Maggie and Em.”
That she knew my daughters’ names chilled me to the bone. I hung up the phone, afraid to hear more.
Keisha was on her feet in a flash and by my side. “Kelly, what is it? You turned dead white.” She always knew when to put the joking aside and take me seriously.
“Bella just threatened the girls,” I stammered. “She says Tom
Lattimore
is a small player in this whole thing. Keisha, why would anyone want a grocery store on Magnolia that badly?”
“Beats me. To my thinking, grocery stores need to be near people, but location isn’t that critical. They shouldn’t need that particular spot.”
“No, but if you think about it, there’s not really any space on Magnolia for what Tom is proposing. I guess he’s fixed on this place—or those bigger people have—as a sort of 'Do or die' thing.” Little did I know I would come to regret those words.
“Kelly, you got to talk to Mike and Buck. Buck’s been taking you serious these days. He’ll listen.”
“But what’s to tell? The girls have been threatened. How does that change things? My sense is that Buck can’t act until something happens—he can’t anticipate a crime. And by the time he can, it’s too late.”
“So you got it all figured out and you’re gonna to take care of it yourself?” Now she was scornful and not at all amused.
****
Before we could argue further, the office door opened and John Henry Jackson heaved his bulk inside and, after a nod at Keisha, sank into my visitor’s chair, which creaked with his weight.
Looking straight at me, he said, “We got a problem, little lady.”
I did not like being addressed as “little lady,” but I kept my peace. “The Magnolia development,” I responded.
“Why I like you. You’re sharp. Yeah, the Magnolia Development. I’m getting some pressure from pretty heavy sources to approve it.”
“But you won’t,” I replied, “because you’re impartial, and your nine-member commission votes independently. How many votes can you count on?”
He let me assume he was on my side. “Don’t know. We got at least a couple of ringers. From the far west side district, a Westover Hills society lady who don’t give a whit about Fairmount. And there’s the mayor’s new appointee, developer named Jake Southerland.”
Jake Southerland. My once-client who had switched to Tom
Lattimore
. The developer who thought preserving old buildings was sheer folly. What in heaven’s name was he doing on the Landmark Commission?
I refrained from asking that. “But with the other seven of you, you should have a clear majority.”
“Should have and do have are different critters,” John Henry said, wiping his brow with a huge handkerchief. “I’ll keep working on it. Hear you got a little problem of your own. Someone stalking you?”
“Now where’d you hear that?”
“Word gets around that courthouse.”
“I bet it does. Well, it’s okay, John Henry. I can take care of myself. When is the commission going to announce its decision on this development?”
“Christmas week. I’ll keep doing what I can.”
Christmas week wasn’t all that far away. But there was nothing I could do, as far as I knew, to influence the commission. They made their decisions independently.
He heaved himself out of the chair and held out a pudgy hand. “Good to see you, little lady. You keep in touch and let me know if you need anything.”
I rose. “Thanks, John Henry. You take care.”
The minute he was gone, Keisha said, “Something about that man gives me the willies.”
“For Pete’s sake, Keisha, he’s on our side. He just talks like a politician.”
She shook her head, stood up and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going? It’s almost time to pick up Mike for lunch.”
“We’re
goin
’ to your garage apartment. See how hard it will be for me to move in there, how much junk we're going to have to move. If even John Henry knows you’re being stalked, we got to do something new.”
“Hold on. If Mike can’t protect us, what makes you think you can?”
“I got a weapon he doesn’t, for all his guns.”
I looked at her curiously.
“Sixth sense,” she said calmly, turning off her computer and picking up her purse. “Come on. Then you and Mike can buy me lunch.”
I followed obediently, leaving her to lock the office. We drove to the house in silence, until she asked, “Apartment locked?”
“Key’s on my key ring.”
“Okay. Drive down the driveway and we’ll go directly out there.”
Keisha was giving orders again. As I got out of the car, I noticed that Bella had pulled up behind us. Keisha turned around and waved almost friendly-like. “Want her to know I’m taking part in this,” she said. Then she marched toward the apartment.
It wasn’t as bad as she feared. The treadmill could be folded up and stashed against one wall, and I thought we could fit the bike into our bedroom—after all, the bedroom was a spacious room and maybe Mike would use it more if it were inside, once he was given permission.
“We’ll have to talk to Mike,” I said.
“We will.”
I knew that meant she would.
We picked up Mike and headed for
Lili’s
. I wanted the comfort of the house wedge with blue cheese and bacon dressing. If Mike was surprised to see Keisha, he said nothing. Nor did he ask what we were up to. When he heard, he would want to take care of us himself. I’d let Keisha explain sixth sense to him.
Lili’s
was a perfect choice. Mike couldn’t explode. At the Grill, he might have felt freer to give vent to his anger. Instead he asked rhetorically, “How does that little bitch know stuff we can’t find out? Buck’s been investigating
Lattimore
, on the sly, and come up empty. Can’t even link him to that North Side Properties you found out about, Kelly. That seems to be a front, a paper business.”