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Penny Legend Page 11
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“Totally!” Gloria said.
“But murder?” Toryn said. “Isn’t it sort of extreme?”
“I don’t know,” Gloria responded, “losing one young black or Hispanic man doesn’t even register on the radar most of the time.”
“Sad truth,” Toryn said. “But it causes a hell of a lot of damage for their families and communities.”
“Amen to that,” Gloria said.
“Did you see the story about the Puerto Rican kid that got the shit beat out of him in New Jersey? Got pulled over for expired plates and ended in the ER.”
“Yep. I saw it. And the black kid that got shot for running. He didn’t have a weapon and he hadn’t done anything. He was just scared of the cops and wanted to run home.”
I’d stopped eating because my stomach was rebelling.
“Stop,” I said. “That kid could be Legend. And I don’t even know what color James was. Help me help Legend.”
“How can we figure out if the doc is dirty?” Toryn asked.
“What if a poor Mexican girl asks him for some help?” Gloria said.
“You should totally have been an actress,” Toryn said.
“I know,” Gloria smiled, “but instead I’m managing estheticians. Choices have to be made!”
“Focus,” I said.
“So Gloria goes in to see this doctor, she’s all dressed trampy of course, but not her usual classy tramp, more shabby tramp.”
Gloria dropped her jaw and stared hard at him. Toryn didn’t dignify her indignation.
“She tells him she’s got back pain, but she totally blows her own cover by forgetting where it hurts and moving just fine. She begs him for Oxy, and says she can’t get by without it.”
“And…?” I said, not seeing where this was getting us.
“So she makes some subtle suggestions, like about if there’s anything she could do for him in exchange. Maybe he’ll be thinking sex, maybe he’s a heroin addict and will trade.”
“That’s the plan?” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be in the waiting room for her in case anything goes wrong and you’ll be out in the car, since we can’t let him see your face.”
“What good will I do in the car?”
“Be ready for a quick getaway?”
“This isn’t a movie!”
“Sometimes,” Gloria said lowering her chin and raising her eyebrows at me, “quick getaways are needed outside the movies.”
“Oh, that Tasha thing?” I said. “That was actually just a movie. You got confused.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes at me.
“I’ll wear a little skirt that’s like three years out of fashion, and some slutty heels.”
“You always wear slutty heels,” Toryn said.
“I’m short, okay?”
She wasn’t really, but we let that one go.
“I don’t know. This’ll probably fail. Maybe I should talk to Conner.”
“As much as I’m in favor of having other kinds of involvement with hot Conner,” Gloria said, “if you want to do this you’d better leave him out of it. You know he’ll stop us.”
Maybe that was what I was hoping.
Conner came to my office that afternoon as promised.
“Let’s walk,” he said.
I was free (well, supposed to do paperwork) for the rest of the day and if I was walking with a cop on a case involving a client, Vivian couldn’t complain. I grabbed my bag and we headed out. We walked down toward the water in search of a breeze. The summer had started off wicked and it wasn’t wavering from that position.
“So you haven’t gotten to spend much time on the case?” I asked.
“I got pulled away, but I’m still working on it. I promise. Have you seen the kid?”
“What kid?” It still annoyed me when he didn’t use Legend’s name.
“Have you seen Legend?” He said it slowly.
“Oh, him. Yes. I’ve seen that kid. I’m really worried about that kid and I wish someone would find out who murdered James so he’ll be safe.”
We walked in silence for a little while. I’d started paying a lot of attention to graffiti and street art so I was scanning the buildings as we walked. I saw a slogan that said “We’re all French hooligans” and a stencil of a guinea pig that I’d seen somewhere else. When we reached the park we sat.
“You met that kid Gabe?” Conner asked.
“Yeah, Legend’s uncle. Why?”
“He’s on the list. Has a bit of a rap sheet, was close enough to the vic to be of interest.”
“So are you telling me you’re no closer to finding who killed James?”
“No. I’m not telling you that.”
“But it’s true, right?” I was getting itchy with hives. I had really liked the strategy of leaving this to the police and I was only half serious about trying to find out if the doctor was crooked. Trying to entertain Toryn, not sure we would go through with it. I’d helped solve a murder once before and I’d almost become a victim myself. And those bullets at my doorway were not a distant memory. Somebody didn’t want me involved. I tended to agree.
“If you could just get Legend or Desiree to talk, then we’d have some real progress. Do you see how simple that is? We know who knows. Let’s get them to tell us.”
“That is not the slightest bit simple because those two people are scared and in danger just like I’m scared and in danger. How many murder victims have you kissed?” Oh, that sounded stupid. “Pre-murder, of course.” Not really improving. “What I’m trying to get at is that you might feel kind of bad if I get killed, and I really think you should hurry up and solve this for everyone’s sake. Where’s the homicide guy anyway?”
“The homicide unit has a huge caseload, but a detective is assigned and you know that’s all I can say about it.” He turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m worried about you. I’ve had a detail on you all week. You have a GPS unit in your bag.”
“What?”
“I’m doing everything I can. If I could I’d sleep on your couch, although I’d prefer your bed.” He lowered his hands and took one of mine in both of his. “I’m going to bring everyone back in for questioning.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I called Toryn that evening to see how he was doing.
“No better,” he said, “but different, I guess. It goes through phases. Right now I’m really ashamed.”
“Ashamed?”
“Yeah. Ashamed that I fell so hard so fast. Ashamed that I wasn’t good enough for him. Ashamed that I saw this enormous potential—the opportunity to finally bring my whole soul to a love, but I was mistaken.” He paused and I could hear him fiddling with the phone. “Or I wasn’t mistaken—I think I could have brought my whole soul, I was bringing my whole soul, but he didn’t want it. Yeah.” I could hear his tight throat. “I guess that’s the core of it. I brought my whole soul and I felt like he really saw me—like he ‘got’ me in a way nobody ever had. And then he decided he didn’t want me.”
I felt a lump forming in my throat. I knew how rare it was to feel that kind of connection. And I know the devastation of losing it. I really didn’t have anything to say. I knew it probably didn’t have anything to do with Toryn, but I also knew that from Toryn’s perspective it had to have to do with him. He was the love Brent tossed aside. That can’t not be personal.
We hung up after I reminded him about the flower remedy.
Lame.
We carried out the crazy doctor plan on Tuesday afternoon. Gloria had an appointment for back pain under the name Carly Santana. Toryn went into the clinic with her. I waited in Toryn’s car. Exactly one hour and sixteen minutes after they went in, they came out, moving quickly. I jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car. Toryn jumped in front and Gloria in back.
“Let’s get out of here!” Toryn said at the same time that Gloria said, “Go!”
I screeched out of the lot, not so much for drama or fear, bec
ause nobody appeared to be chasing us, but more because I’m a bad driver.
We went back to Toryn’s place because he had parking. I was too focused on driving to get the story on the way home, so I was dying of curiosity by the time we landed in his living room.
“Well? What happened?”
“I only know the ending!” Toryn said. “Tell us, Gloria.”
“I went in and I did what we said. I told him I was having back pain and I needed some Oxy. He felt around on my back and it took about thirty seconds to see that he was a total sleazebag. He ‘accidentally’ touched my breast twice! He said he couldn’t find anything wrong and asked me a bunch of questions and I answered kind of inconsistently and then I just begged him. I told him I really needed the Oxy and I was at the end of my rope. I told him I’d do anything if he’d help me.”
She was affecting the helpless femme with junkie undertones as she retold the story. She was good. I never doubted that she was good.
“He asked me what kind of anything, and I said I could do him special favors or I could get him some ‘good street stuff’ if he wanted.”
Toryn chortled. “Little did he know she was talking about eucalyptus oil.”
“I knew he was a slime,” I said. “He looks like a bug, right?”
“Totally,” they chorused.
“He said he could use a favor and asked me to stand up. He turned me toward the exam table and asked me to bend over and lift my skirt.”
“Did you?” It was my turn for the duet with Toryn.
“Sure.” She was nonchalant. Gloria never ceased to amaze me. “He’s a doctor. How many doctors have seen your butt? Lots, right?”
I didn’t want to think about it. “Then what?” I was cringing.
“He put his hand on my butt and gave my thong a tug.”
“You wore a thong?” Toryn squealed.
“I always wear a thong,” she said. “Stop interrupting.”
“Then he gave me a little spank and walked over to the desk. I pulled my skirt down and he got out a script pad and wrote me this. She waved the prescription. He said if I meet him tomorrow night for those favors he’ll give me more.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “I just knew he was crooked.”
Toryn was nodding big emphatic nods.
“So why did you two come running out of the building? Was it just because you were so grossed out?”
“Nooo,” Gloria said, turning her head to Toryn. “Our little queen here couldn’t resist some drama.”
“I empathically sensed that he’d violated you!”
“Bullshit.” Gloria laughed. “When the doc and I came out of the exam room I was straightening my skirt a bit and Toryn puffed up that skinny chest and used some freaky low voice and said, ‘You’d better not have been inappropriate with my girl.’” She laughed. “The doc said, ‘What are you talking about, you’re a queer!’ Then Toryn forgot all about acting straight and slapped the doc right across the face and said, ‘How dare you! You are not using that term in the empowered way. You know gays have reclaimed the word queer—did you know?’” Gloria was laughing so hard at this point that I had to patch her sentences together. “When Toryn finished his speech I grabbed him by the arm and said, ‘I’m so, so sorry! I’ll take care of him. He’s not right in the head.’ And then we ran!”
I wanted to laugh but some part of me was pretty sure it wasn’t funny. “Do you think you’re still on for tomorrow night?”
“Oh hell, yeah, do you have any idea what kind of crap goes on in those clinics? It’s all in a day’s work for the Pillbug.”
I was entering realities I’d rather avoid. “So I’ll call Conner and we can set this creep up!”
I called Conner and asked him if we could meet for a drink.
“Everything okay?” he asked. “Or maybe this is social?”
“Sorry. Not social, but everything’s okay.”
“I’m downtown and tied up for another hour. Why don’t you meet me at Elephant and Castle.”
“So five thirty?”
“Yep.”
It took me a while to figure out what to wear, which was stupid because the T was going to be crowded and it would take me forever to get there and it didn’t matter what I wore because I had zero romantic intent for Conner. I landed on a cute dress that I thought looked like it was more about being good for hot weather than about being cute.
My butt hit the seat at a table for two at five thirty on the dot. I have a talent for being on time.
Conner did not. I ordered a Moscow Mule while I waited. I was moving away from wine and beer because they had so much sugar and sometimes I got a headache the next day. I wasn’t used to vodka, so I felt that first drink.
Conner texted at five forty that he’d be another ten minutes. I ordered a pub pretzel to soak up the alcohol and another Moscow Mule. A couple of guys tried to join me, but I mostly kept my head down and played with my phone. Toryn and I texted for a while. We made up dirty emoji combinations. Like the phallic cactus and the squirt of water, the cactus and the puff of air, the tongue and the cactus, the tongue and the cherries. It was all entertainingly adolescent and I hoped it cheered him up a little.
Conner finally got there at six. My second or third drink was gone. He swung into the chair across from me and nodded toward an idiot at the bar. “What’d you do to that guy?”
I wasn’t even up for faking anything. “You cops sure are observing…observ…you sure do notice shit.”
“What’d you do?” He had the smirk on his face. I was kind of getting fond of the smirk.
“I might have told him to fuck off.”
“Why? Was he hitting on you?”
“He asked if he could join me, and he called me Ginger Snap.”
“Does that have special meaning or something?”
“It means I’m a redhead and I’m not.”
“Ohhh.” The smirk bordered on smile. “Nope. Agreed. Def not.”
He raised the menu and I leaned around to see if he was hiding a smile. It was more of a laugh really and I batted the menu down.
“Look, SuperCop. I found your man.”
“My man?”
“The bad guy.”
“How many drinks have you had?”
“Two. I think. I found the bad guy. He’s that doctor. I told you to go after the doctor but you wouldn’t so we checked him out and he’s filthy! He killed James because he was supplying him and either James blackmailed him or he was getting audited or something went wrong. We have him set up for tomorrow night. You can catch him.”
“Catch him what?” Conner had dropped the menu and waved the waitress away. He was very focused on me and looked terribly serious.
I told him the story. “So tomorrow when Gloria goes to meet him you can arrest him.”
“Arrest him for what?”
“For drug diversion or whatever you call it.”
“Penny.” He put both elbows on the table and lowered his head into his hands. He ran one hand through his sandy hair and sat back up. “I’d love to arrest the bastard, but I won’t be able to keep him and that would put Gloria in danger. What the hell were you three thinking? Did she use her real name for the appointment?”
“No. We’re not stupid.”
“Well, you’ve ferreted out a criminal, but we don’t know that he’s the murderer and we can’t endanger Gloria.”
The waitress came back and he ordered a beer and a chicken sandwich. I ordered another Moscow mule, not sure if it was my third or fourth, and a second pretzel.
“You do know that the bread doesn’t actually soak up the alcohol and keep you from getting drunk, right?”
“No, it does,” I said.
“It really doesn’t but you’ve got me looking out for you tonight, so drink all you want. I just wish I could keep an eye on you all the time. You really shouldn’t be out chasing down suspects.”
“You assigned me to chase suspects! What about Tasha?”
&nb
sp; “That was different. You need to talk to me first.”
I yanked at my hair a little and wished for my drink. “Well, if you would just solve this I wouldn’t have to. I’d rather not, you know. I signed up to be a social worker, not a murder tracker.”
When our order arrived we ate in silence for a while. Conner’s phone vibrated on the table periodically. He ignored it for a while, then after about the fourth call he checked.
“Shit.” He hit voicemail and listened.
I picked up my drink but it was empty. I slurped at the ice and watched him over the rim of the glass.
He stood, slapped some cash on the table, and looked at me.
“You’re gonna have to come with me. I can’t leave you here drunk.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the bar. He walked and I stumbled about two blocks to his car.
“Oooh, a detective car?”
“Get in.”
Conner pulled out and headed toward Southie. I thought he was going to take me home until he started his lecture.
“Look. You’re going to have to stay in the car. There’s nothing I can do about this because you’re drunk and in danger and I have to respond to this call.”
The car was moving a little fast and my stomach was getting oopsie.
He kept talking. “No matter what happens or what or who you see, you have to stay in the car. I’d lock you in if I could, but this isn’t that kind of car.”
“You’d lock me in?”
“For your own safety.”
In what seemed like a flash, if a nauseous one, we were parking near a couple of squad cars not far from Desiree and Legend’s apartment.
“Is this Legend’s case?”
“I don’t know for sure what this is. I’ll tell you what I can when I know. I’m going to tell the officer there to keep an eye on you.” He took my face between his hands and looked into my eyes. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was a little turned down. “Stay here.”
He got out and I stayed. He spoke to the officer standing next to the closest squad car. The officer, a portly middle-aged white guy whose beer gut was straining against his uniform, turned and looked at me, nodded, and said something to Conner. Conner nodded and walked on.