I practiced a speech while I waited for him. It swirled in my head so when he came out a few minutes later with his hair still wet, dressed in sweats, I recited it quickly without taking a breath.
“Dylan, I’m sorry about everything. I mean, you and I only met by coincidence. If another lawyer had been in the office that day, I probably never would’ve met you. It was just chance that you were there and then I dragged you into all this crap and what makes it worse is that you only live a few minutes away. If you lived downtown I wouldn’t bother you the way I do, and I understand if I annoy you. I come uninvited, I ask you to pull stuff out of my hair, I bother you day and night and I’m sure you have your own problems. So, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. Just tell me. And I should’ve known this was Meghan’s shirt. It was really stupid of me.” I took a breath.
“I do have something to say.” I waited for the worst. “Do we have to take this piece of shit of a car of yours? I mean it’s rusted, it looks like it’s falling apart.” He opened the door and slammed it again. “The door doesn’t even close right.”
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“I heard you. It wasn’t a coincidence that I was in the law office that day; my father asked me to take care of things. And if you bothered me, I’d let you know. You think I’m some kind of push over? And I don’t care about the shirt. If I were at your house and I put on Nick’s shirt would you care?”
I thought about it and smiled. “No, it wouldn’t bother me. But Cora has a whole drawer full of them if you’re interested.”
His lips moved a little bit upwards into a smile. “Okay, so we’re back to the jeep.” I shifted gears and backed up. He jerked forward and almost hit his head on the dash. “Do you have any shocks in this thing?”
“Not good ones. It gets a little bumpy.”
The annoyance was clear on his face. We rode along in silence, except for the few directions he gave me, trying to ignore the loud engine sounds and the bumps in the road. At one point he reached over to roll down the window. I smiled. It was off track and rolled down crooked. You had to hold the glass with one hand and roll it with the other or it wouldn’t work. He stared at it.
“Forget the gardener. Let’s go to a car dealership. We can get you a nice car, whatever you want. BMW, a Lexus. even a Mercedes. If we go now we’ll be out of there in a few hours. All you have do is write a check, no paperwork. You can afford it. I can take care of transferring the money to your account so your check clears.”
I glanced over at him. He was serious. “This car is fine. When I get back to Maine I’ll think about buying another one.” I heard him swear under his breath when he tried to straighten out the window. I stifled a laugh. I’d lived with this car for three years. No air conditioning, a very poor heater, windows that didn’t roll up or down easily, no shocks, and it was a little rusted. All cosmetic stuff. The engine was good, I’d paid cash for it, the insurance was cheap and it only had seventy-five thousand miles on it. And it was part of an old life I didn’t want to give up just yet.
The streets became very steep and narrow and I slowed down as Dylan directed me where to go. I finally found Crescent Road. Number 235 was set back from the road. It was a small cape and part of the aluminum siding was pulling away from the house, but I knew I was in the right place. The entire front and side of the house was beautifully landscaped. Bushes dotted the sides of a stone path leading to the front door.
We walked up the pathway and rang the bell. I saw part of the living room curtain pull away as someone peered out cautiously, then, the door opened slowly with the chain still hooked in place.
“Mr. Simpson?” He was a tall thin man in his mid sixties with a crew cut and thick black rimmed glasses.
“Whaddya want?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Bout what?”
Dylan backed up and remained silent.
“Could you come out, please?” The chain lifted slowly and the door opened. He shuffled out onto the step and started to close the door behind him but not before I got a look inside. The smell of old cigarette smoke assaulted my nose and the room appeared closed in and dark. I backed away.
“So whaddya want with me?” His eyes traveled from my black running shoes all the way up to my twisted hair.
Dylan inched away towards the car.
“I wanted to ask you about the work you did for Cora Whitfield. You were her gardener, right?” I was stammering.
“Why,” he put a cigarette to his lips and lit it. “You lookin for a gardener?”
“No. I’m staying with her and I’m curious about a few things.” He walked down the steps and past me as if he hadn’t heard anything. He started inspecting his garden. I followed closely behind. “Can you help me?” I asked.
He looked up suddenly. “What’s in it for me?”
I was taken aback. “What do you want?” I took out my wallet. All I had was a five and some change.
“I don’t want your money,” he said softening a bit. “That woman is no one to mess with.” He continued trekking around to the side of the house.
“Mr. Simpson.” I came up behind him. “I know you worked for her for sixteen years. What happened that you stopped?” He kept his back to me, not saying a word. “Did she fire you?” I plopped down on an old milk can. “Anything you can tell me would be helpful.”
He turned around, almost in slow motion. “I worked for that woman for a long time. Never did get to know her. Just did my job. But I saw a lot.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno what you’re after. Who’re you anyway?” He stood in front of me chewing a piece of grass. His forehead creased up like old parchment.
“Nick’s wife.”
His eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Nick’s wife?” His whole affect changed. He led me around to the back of the house to where there was a bench amongst some flowers. “So how is he?”
I looked down. “Nick died in an accident in September.”
He leaned forward and rubbed his head with an old gnarled hand. “I never did like children much but I always felt sorry for that boy.” He blew smoke out of his mouth and l breathed the other way.
“Sorry for him how?”
“Woman is not right, fly off the handle for no reason, you couldn’t tell when it was coming. Found him locked in the underground storage room sometimes. Kept gardening supplies in there. And there he’d be, curled up on a pile a rags, couldn’t a been more than ten. Had a Bible with him. She’d throw him in there with a Bible. No tellin’ how long he’d been there.”
I wanted to say something but my mouth wouldn’t move. “What did you do?” I mustered.
His head snapped up. “Nothin’ I could do. Wasn’t my business. She’d be screaming, and sayin’…stuff about family and sticking together, something like that, and I knew it wasn’t good. I stayed outta the way.”
“So why’d you leave?”
“She let me go one day, said my services wasn’t needed no more, I think that’s how she said it. Best paying job I ever had. Gave me two months pay when I left, can’t complain bout that.”
“But what happened?”
“Only thing I can think is that two days before Ginny and I were out back talkin’ while I was filling in an old swimming hole.”
“A swimming hole?”
He nodded. “Back in the woods, fed by a little creek that run through the property. Nice little deep thing. She decided she had no use for it no more. Suddenly wanted it banked up. Had rock and dirt delivered. Asked me to fill it up. Ginny and I were talkin away… she was a nice woman, helpin’ me to read and all.”
“And?”
“I was shoveling dirt talking bout some story or another she had me read and I came across some thing in the dirt. Didn’t even get to see it really.”
“What was it?”
“Looked like a coin, wasn’t a coin though. Ginny grabbed that thing from my hand right away, like I’d found gold. Looked scared and put it in her pocket.”
“What color was it, did you see?”
“It was covered with dirt, green maybe. Heavier than a penny.” He rubbed the end of the cigarette out on the ground and put the butt in his pocket.
“Ginny never told you what it was?”
He shook his head. “She went back to her house straight away. Maybe two days later Cora let me go without a word.”
“Do you know anyone named James? Anyone from when you worked there? Anyone associated with Cora or Nick?”
He stared, in thought. “Had a tree man come out. Cut some trees down in the back. Don’t remember the year. Had him a coupla years. Name was James. That’s all I can think of.”
“Did he have anything to do with Nick? Were they close?”
“S’all I know.” He stood and started to walk back to the house. He looked over his shoulder. “Sorry to hear bout Nick. He really was a fine boy.” With that he turned back and went inside his house.
Dylan was leaning against the car when I went out front.
“Where’d you get to?” I asked.
“It only took a second for me to realize he wasn’t going to tell us anything, but he might tell you something if you were alone.”
“And wait till you hear what I learned.” We both got in the car and I told him everything, exactly as it had been explained to me. He sat and listened from beginning to end.
“My God, all the time we were in school, I was laughing at him behind his back, calling him a weirdo.” He looked over at me. “I didn’t know.”
We were both silent for a few moments, still parked in the driveway. “There was a tree man named James.” I added.
“Wrong James. Just a feeling,” he said. “What now?”
I shrugged. “I want to go see Josef Heinz, Nick’s father’s friend, and I don’t know,” I rubbed my eyes, “a few odds and ends.” I exhaled slowly. “I have to figure this out before she makes me leave. But I’ll tell you one thing. There is no way I’m going to let Cora win this thing.”
“Win what? What’s the prize? Is it a new car?” His head was cocked to the side; a goofy smile played on his lips.
I’m sure I gave him my best withering look as I started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.