Chapter 18

 

Another bad night left Carol longing to crawl back under the covers once Paul left for school. This time her nightmares hadn’t stopped at playing out her fears for Paul. Harry and Joey, even Patrick, stalked through swirling mists, buffeted by gusts of windblown money. She’d seen Keith again, but he turned into Chance as a faceless man bashed his head with a length of chain.

Peppermint tea at three a.m. did nothing, nor did baking the banana muffins Carol and Paul ate for breakfast four hours later. Listening to Joey’s show hadn’t helped either, although she liked the songs. He even played Billy Joel, “out of habit,” he said. That had made Carol pick up the phone, but she hung up before completing the call.

Alone in the apartment that morning, Carol finished the breakfast dishes and started a load of laundry. Twenty minutes before the vet’s office opened she put on her glasses, grabbed her purse and headed for the car.

Chance greeted her with loving, brown doggy eyes and a limp hand-lick that made up for the vet bill. A stubbly patch on the left side of his head surrounded an ugly, stitched-up cut. The swelling made the wound look worse than it really was, but tears burned Carol’s eyes.

She dropped to her knees and buried her face in his fur. “I thought I’d lost you too!”

He whimpered, twisting to lick her cheek. Carol dodged, and dragged a sleeve across her eyes instead. What would she have done if he died?

She left him conducting a slow but thorough investigation of the apartment. Knowing Cecilia, the dog might have more company than he wanted today, but that meant Carol wouldn’t be worrying at work.

Carol stepped into Sticky Fingers a bit early, mentally running through today’s baking line-up. The sight of Joey at one of the tables stopped her in her tracks. How dare he show his face here?

Joey’s smile didn’t stretch as wide as usual, and his posture seemed stiff. Bracing for some kind of fallout?

Lily called out from the cash, “Morning, Carol. Hey, you don’t look so good. Do you need me to call in a replacement?”

The same concern echoed in Joey’s eyes. Carol glared at Joey. “I’ll make it.” She headed straight for the kitchen even though it meant passing his table. No way would she be childish enough to take the long way around the room to avoid him.

Joey caught her jacket sleeve. “Carol, please. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Let me go.” She tried to pull free without disturbing the handful of other customers. Lily had her back to the scene.

“Please,” he repeated. “Is everything okay?”

Carol’s glare should have iced his coffee. “I’m fine.”

Joey’s moustache twitched. “No offence, but you don’t look it.”

“Save your concern for someone who trusts you.”

Red tinged his ears. “Maybe I’m just missing our conversations, but I’ve had this terrible feeling something worse is wrong. It is, isn’t it?”

“Pray. You said it works.”

“I have been.” Joey’s eyes looked settled and dark-rimmed, but they glowed with the same sincerity that fooled Carol before. “Since Monday. What happened?”

“Someone broke into my apartment and tried to kill my dog. Happy now?”

Joey let go of her sleeve to take her hand, his fingers warm and gentle. “Is he okay?”

“Almost.”

“Any clues?”

“It’s that drug boss I told you about. He phoned as soon as I got home. Just to taunt me.” Carol shivered, eyes locked on Joey’s face, remembering her visit to his apartment. He’d asked if Harry had hidden anything, offered to be her go-between. He’d hidden his own history with drugs...

Carol bit her lip. “I have to get to work. We’re out of your cookies.”

“First thing I asked, even though I came for brunch.” Joey released her hand and gripped the edge of the table. “The man who called you called me too.”

“What?” Carol shot a guilty look at Lily and lowered her voice. “Why?”

Red crept up Joey’s neck. “He knew about my conviction out west, recognized me from that video of us in the park.” Joey sank a little in his seat. “Carol, he threatened to tell you about that if I didn’t cooperate.”

Carol shifted her weight to her back foot and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. Pain brewed in her skull. “Cooperate with what?”

“For now, just stay close to you. I wanted to do that anyway. No way would I do anything to hurt you —”

“Except deceive me!” And ask if he could be her link with Harry.

Joey grimaced. “If I refused, he’d get someone else to do his dirty work. This way I could warn you, or warn the police. Before anything happened, that tabloid story made it a moot point. He accused me of setting it up, said he’d find me another assignment.”

His expression hardened. “Next time I’ll go to the police.”

Carol shifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “So when you offered to talk to Harry for me, was that for Creepy Voice?”

“His voice is creepy. Terrifying. And as suspicious as it sounds, that was my own bright idea.”

She drilled him with a stare. “So this could be the truth, or it could be damage control.”

Joey shrugged. “I can’t prove anything. But would you tell your detective? I’ll answer whatever questions he wants to ask.”

“I will.” And tell Garraway about her own suspicions.

“If you need to talk, call me. I promise not to think you’ve forgiven me. And I’ll be praying for you.”

Carol forced a smile. “Thanks.” She hurried into the kitchen, heart pounding.

On her break, she told Lily she needed to check with the police about the break-in. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, and it gave her an excuse to make the call. Carol didn’t want to bother Garraway later on his off hours.

Judging by his harried tone, now wasn’t a good time either. “Should I call back, Detective? It’s not an emergency.”

“No, Ms. Daniels, I have a meeting later, so shoot.”

The cafe was nearly empty, but Carol kept her voice low. “I wanted to ask you something else. Before the break-in someone asked me if Harry might have hidden anything this drug dealer could be after. He offered to contact Harry about it so I wouldn’t have to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought he was a friend, but I found out he has a history with drugs. Now he tells me my anonymous caller wanted him to keep close to me, but that the contact offer was his own idea.”

“Give me his name and we’ll check it out. Don’t get your hopes up, but if he’s working with them we can let him play intermediary for you. Makes your part easier, and gives us more evidence.”

Carol told him where Joey lived and worked. If he’d been using her, let him pay. And if the police proved his innocence...

While she ate her lunch later, her mind chewed on the possibilities. Innocent or guilty? Which did she want him to be?

 

~~~

 

“Would Paul Daniels please report to the office?”

The secretary’s voice over the intercom made Paul jump even though he’d been expecting it. Curious stares prickled his back as he gathered his books and excused himself to his teacher. “I’ll be back if I can.”

Detective Garraway, in plain clothes, met him at the office door. “Your vice-principal said we could use his office.”

Paul followed him, and watched Garraway adjust the privacy blinds and navigate around the desk. Two visitors’ chairs took most of the space between the desk and the wall. Paul dropped his books on one and sat in the other.

Garraway’s smile looked tired. “I told your vice-principal this was about your apartment vandals. Is it?”

Paul had phoned as soon as he got to school, but hadn’t said why. “Promise you won’t let Mom know this came from me.”

Garraway blew out a breath that could have been a groan. “As long as it’s not pertinent to the investigation, or putting you in danger.”

“They sent my uncle a photo of Mom.”

“Recent?”

“Yes.”

Garraway nodded. “To let him know they can get at her.”

“That’s what he said.”

Garraway tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Why is he talking to you?”

What if Harry’s letters broke some sort of prison code? Paul stared back. “Mom won’t even say his name. If she finds out I wrote him, she’ll freak. But he said he’s changed, and I wanted to know if it’s for real.”

“We’d all like to know that, son. Until this investigation wraps up, he needs to keep quiet. Afterwards he’ll have his chance to talk.”

Paul unzipped his binder and slid the photo of his mom from Harry’s envelope. He pushed it across the desk at the detective.

Garraway frowned at the picture, then locked Paul’s gaze. “Just the one? You’re not a target too?”

Paul looked away. Silence stretched. At last he mumbled, “Don’t tell Mom. She’s on my case enough already.”

“Taken at school?”

“Somewhere I don’t want her to know I go. I have a job, and she’d make me quit.”

Garraway fiddled with the red mesh pen holder on the desk. “Paul, I’ll do my best not to get you in deep with your mother, but show me the picture.”

Careful to keep the letter hidden, Paul retrieved the second shot. He didn’t know what to do about the money, but that was not up for discussion. The detective might want to turn it over to the drug lord. No way would Paul let scum like that get their hands on more money to hook other innocent kids like his brother. If he disposed of it himself, they’d have to leave his family alone.

Paul handed over the photo. “This is stupid. I work in a music store, and Mom doesn’t want me playing guitar.”

Garraway scanned the picture. “Sounds safer than lots of things you could be doing, but I’m sure she has her reasons. Where’s the store? I need to be able to find you.”

Paul told him, and Garraway made a note. “I won’t show this to your mom, but I’ll let her know about the threat.”

The detective tucked the photos into his pocket. “You could ask your uncle if he knows anything about these phone calls, but I won’t play you against your mother. When they give her more information, she’ll need to contact him herself. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Want? Paul shook his head. Good choice of words. “Thanks for meeting me here instead of the apartment, Detective.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry things are mixed up at home, but you two are strong. You’ll get through this. Just try to stay on the same side.” Garraway put the pen holder in its original spot and stood. “We should have this settled soon.”

“I hope so.” Paul zipped up his binder and gathered his books. A distant buzz made him grin at the detective. “Class is over. Thanks for the reprieve.”

Garraway clapped his shoulder. “It’s about time you caught a break.” He held the door and motioned Paul to go ahead.

The hallway teemed with students in end-of-day cheer. Paul dumped his things in his locker and ducked back into the crowd. The band had practice at Barry’s, but they’d be a while rounding up their things. He had time to find Tara-Lynn and say goodbye. Maybe even walk her to the bus stop and risk Barry’s comments.

He liked Tara-Lynn, and he wished people wouldn’t joke about them being an item. He wasn’t giving up his music for her or anyone else, and she deserved a guy who’d spend time with her.

She smiled at him from a circle of giggling friends and he thought better of stopping. “See you tomorrow, Tara-Lynn.”

Her friends giggled harder. She returned his wave, but her smile dimmed. Had she wanted him to interrupt? Girls!

He hurried to meet the guys. Most of them waited inside the main doors, backpacks propped at their feet. Barry and Nicole strolled up, hand in hand, after Paul arrived.

Barry’s scowl swept the group. “Sleazy trick they pulled for tomorrow afternoon, isn’t it?”

Paul grinned. “What did you expect? They want us to go to the assembly.” It sounded juvenile, taking attendance before and after, but who’d stick around otherwise?

Barry shrugged. “Let’s find a way to blow it off. Having a deejay do the drug talk is new, but we’ve heard it all before.”

Paul stared at his shoes. “This guy’s a friend of my mom.” Or was. Maybe that’s why she’d acted so stressed even before the break-in. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Barry snickered. “And she worries about your friends.”