Exception to the Rule, page 7
If there were only some way to help him.
* * * *
It was past nine when she stopped at Miriam’s desk. “All routes covered this morning?”
“Yes. Smooth sailing for a Thursday. You been listening to the weather reports?”
“Yes. Maybe it’ll turn and go to Texas. But with a name like Bart, we’d best be prepared.”
Miriam laughed. “Here’s the subsidy report for the Johnston fill.” She pointed to a paragraph. “You might want to look at that quote. Looks low.” She released the papers to Garnet and said, “You okay?”
“Sure. Why?”
Sure, I’m okay, she assured herself without listening to Miriam. I’ve been rejected before. After a while, you don’t even remember. But while it’s new, it hurts. David’s lovemaking had been gentle, but his outspoken opinion of her hadn’t been. She fully realized the cold words came from his bottomless pain and, yes, guilt. Didn’t he think she had the same guilt feelings? Perhaps not. Perhaps he thought she spent the night with men all the time. She winced.
“Looks like you didn’t sleep.”
“Gray days always make me look faded.”
“Hmph. By the way, a Mr. Pitelli called about nine. Said he’d call back later.”
Garnet’s eyes lifted from the paper and met Miriam’s glinting smile. “Is he going to stop agitating or is he offering kinky sex?” Sex. She swallowed and pushed away the pain. Sex with David had been warm and wonderful. Nothing kinky about it. The perverted part came when she found out how guilty she could feel for loving another woman’s husband. A terminally ill woman. She hadn’t known about a wife, but that didn’t help her feelings now.
Dammit. I’m not naive and eighteen. I should have asked.
“Didn’t say one way or the other.” She came back to what Miriam was saying. “Nice voice. Hard to picture it saying dirty things, huh?”
Garnet nodded absently. Miriam cocked her head to watch her.
“Is Lyn going directly to her dad’s house?”
“Yes.” Thank God. I can worry about myself this weekend instead of her.
But she wouldn’t do that. Garnet could take care of herself, but Lyn was her responsibility, twenty-four hours a day, and there was no end to the worry.
Chapter Six Garnet read the brief death notice in the paper of Elizabeth Mellencamp, age thirty-nine. The body was to be cremated and a memorial service held at three o’clock Sunday at the Southeast Presbyterian Church. Before the thought to attend the service fully materialized, she rejected it. Why torture herself? Her guilt was full blown as it was. To see David suffering his grief and guilt at the same time wouldn’t help matters.
But it was in her thoughts all weekend.
* * * *
Lyn had never been more beautiful to Garnet when Bart brought her home on Sunday evening. She could hardly bare to let her go when she hugged her hello. The precious feel of Lyn’s compact, slim body was like a shot of adrenaline, and she wanted to just hold her close. She resisted the impulse and sat down to hear all about the exciting game Lyn’s school team had won.
“I’m going out for statewide cheerleader competition next month, Mother. If I win, there’s a four-day weekend in Memphis, all expenses paid.” She looked at Garnet. “You can go if you want.”
Garnet had been about to protest that Lyn couldn’t go. It would be dangerous. She resisted the impulse. “Fine. You go ahead and win, Honey. We need a vacation.” “I expected you to have at least half a dozen excuses not to go.”
“You don’t want me to go?”
Lyn shrugged as though it mattered little. “Darcy’s mother and grandmother are going, and we can shop and see a show and to go Graceland and….”
Garnet laughed. “It’s only four days, Sweetheart.”
They talked a long time, and Garnet realized how much she’d missed the intimate relationship she’d once had with Lyn. How long had it been since she had taken time for the girlish confidences? Their conversations were mostly limited to passing in the hall or whenever Garnet picked her up from some activity to drop her off at home on her way somewhere for a meeting, a broken down truck, a vandalized container, cleaning up …. the list was endless. She tried to reassure Lyn she thought of her often and loved her, worried about her, and invited her confidences, but somehow, she’d failed. After a while, Lyn gave up on their getting together. A thickness crowded her throat. Now, she couldn’t afford to keep long hours away from Lyn because whoever made the calls knew where they lived, and their home telephone number. Perhaps Sergeant Peterson would be able to find out more than she had about who her tormentor was.
* * * *
On Monday morning, dark skies lingered in the aftermath of Bart, which churned around in the Gulf, then finally became a tropical depression, leaving only a cool, humid aftermath. Just as well. She had enough to worry about without a hurricane added to it.
Garnet walked as far as the corner with Lyn and the school crowd. Lyn started across the street, then turned back to Garnet where she stood on the curb, hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Lyn wouldn’t want a mother smelling of garbage to get too close to her fresh-scented friends. She and Garnet stared at each other a moment before Lyn came back, grinned, and put her arms around her mother’s neck.
“Will you come to our homecoming game Friday night?”
“Yes, of course.” It was one activity Garnet tried not to miss. She and Miriam enjoyed the rowdy teenagers.
“You’re pretty nice to be so weird,” Lyn said, broke away from her, and ran across the street to join the others.
If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it, Garnet thought, waved at Lyn and walked west towards Cleansweep. It was almost eight o’clock. She was later getting to work than usual, but it had given her thirty precious minutes extra with Lyn. It was worth it.
How is David coping?
She’d love to help him, but he didn’t need or want her help. Couldn’t bear the sight of her because of their one night stand. She could see his distrustful glare and recoiled from it. Her mind skittered away from remembering.
Miriam greeted her with, “Payroll’s ready. Did you want me to deduct the money Ottice borrowed now or later?”
“When did he borrow money?”
“He told me you loaned him forty dollars till payday.”
Garnet looked at her.
“You didn’t loan it to him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She grinned. “You’re smart for an old lady.” Miriam was three months younger than Garnet.
“Might have known.” Miriam grumbled, but she would have done the same thing. “He won’t like it, you know.”
“Tell him management knows every loan made and there’s no record of one to Ottice Watson.”
“Right.”
“Any calls?”
“Yes. Rhoda broke down over on Chesney and Ottice went to rescue her. He’s on his way back.”
“All right. I’ll wash Gruesome Green so it’ll be ready tomorrow.”
Garnet stopped by the locker room and changed into orange coveralls, picked up sponges, cleaning materials, and a pair of gloves to make handling the hose easier on her palms. She went out the back door. Gruesome Green sat there looking smug, its hubcaps thick with mud, windshield so grimy you could scarcely see through it. She pulled the hose around, but decided she could do a better job if she moved the truck. The key was in the ignition, and she turned it. The motor growled, barely caught, sputtered and died. She realized she would just run the battery down so she didn’t keep on grinding at it. Ottice had warned her about the starter needing work.
A horn sounded and she looked up to see Ottice wheel the pickup into its slot near the back door. He loped across the yard like a charging Tyrannosaurus Rex. She dropped to the ground and grinned at him.
“Your lucky day, Ottice, rescuing ladies in distress.” She nodded towards the vehicle. “Won’t start.”
His white teeth glistened in the pale light. “Some days it don’t pay to own such contrary equipment.” He pulled the door open. “Where were you going?”
“Nowhere. I was gonna move it and give it a bath.”
“I’ll do it when I get back. ‘Melia’s already on the route and we’ll be through early.” “I need to do some hard, physical labor, Ottice, and I want to clean this up.” She could work off worry and anger, and, yes, pain. Why the hell did she hurt like hell over a situation she couldn’t change?
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. He swung up, looked over the gauges, released the handbrake and stepped back so that one foot was on the narrow fender, the other on the ground. He glanced around to see that Garnet had moved out of his way and was standing near the hoses at the garage. His shoulder muscles bunched with his effort to move the heavy machine. Garnet could hear his grunts. He shoved, the truck started to roll, and he reached inside to turn the key.
There was a muffled growl from the engine, a sputter, then in slow motion, the truck lit up like a bonfire. Ottice’s wide body hung in the air, feet splayed wide apart like an awkward pole-vaulter. A muffled roar came on the heels of orange flames laced with black smoke.
The concussion slammed Garnet against the garage wall, and for an instant, she propped there, stunned, unable to move. Her disbelieving eyes followed Ottice’s twisting body as it hit the ground with a dull thud, turned once, and lay still. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that had not Ottice started the machine, it would have been Garnet, fried to a crisp inside the truck. His habit of pushing and hanging onto the truck when starting problems developed, learned in prison where equipment was habitually balky, saved his life.
Garnet stumbled upright, tearing off her coveralls, threw them over Ottice, rolled him over and over on the ground. She heard someone yelling for Miriam to call nine-one-one, unaware it was her voice. Someone pulled her free, but she jerked away and was back on her knees beating flames away from Ottice.
* * * *
She stood at the foot of the bed gazing at the mummified creature that was Ottice. Bandages covered everything but eyes, nose and lips. Garnet glanced at Amelia, tiny and still, wide eyes fastened on what she could see of Ottice. She hadn’t moved or made a sound since they let her in five minutes ago.
“You’ll have to leave now.” A nurse came in and stood near the door.
Garnet nodded and took hold of Amelia’s arm, guided her outside into the hall and a few steps farther into the intensive care waiting room. They were alone.
“I’m going to get coffee. Don’t move,” Garnet said. Amelia nodded, clasped her hands around her knees, and rocked. She was in the same position when Garnet returned.
She separated Amelia’s hands and put the Styrofoam cup in unresisting fingers. “Careful. It’s hot.”
The old gloves had saved Garnet’s hands, and only singed hair, several angry red welts on her arms and one down her right cheek hinted at discomfort. She felt nothing.
Nothing except a livid hatred for whoever was after her. It was one thing to destroy property. She’d deal with that. When it was human beings as victims …. If Alonzo Pitelli was behind this, she’d go through with her threat to shoot him. If Shaw and Pope were to blame, she’d kill them with her bare hands. Her jaws ached from gritting her teeth.
Garnet didn’t know how many times she’d told Amelia she was sorry. One thing she did know was that she was going to have to tell everyone who worked for her what was happening. Everything, from start to finish, from the first little aggravations to this latest catastrophe. They had to know their workplace was no longer a safe place to be.
Lyn and Bart would have to know about the telephone calls, the threats. It was no longer a game. It was sinister, frightening and deadly.
“Stop apologizing, Mrs. Madigan.” Although her employees called Garnet by her first name, Amelia hadn’t been able to yet. It was too strange to her. “The accident was meant for you.” She stared at Garnet with troubled eyes. “Who is it? What are they trying to do?”
“I don’t know who they are, but I do know they’re trying to ruin my business, make me run for cover. There are union organizers, protection racketeers, takeover attempts to give someone more power. I’ve reported some of the actions to police, but I didn’t think they’d go this far and figured I could handle most of it myself. I was wrong.”
She was mad at herself and had managed to transfer some of the anger to David because he had hurt her. And when Lyn finally had decided to talk to her mother again, Garnet’s enemies got nasty. That was a definite strike against them.
All right. I’ve learned a few underhanded things myself that I never would use, but I can. Her temper, her blood pressure, her dander, all were up and on the erupting scale.
“Ottice never hurt anybody,” Amelia said. “The man he killed, he wasn’t human, the things he did to Addie. He deserved to die. I just wish it had been somebody else to do it.” Her voice was empty like air squashed from a bag. “’Course, if Ottice hadn’t killed him, he’d be out maybe doing the same thing again.” Amelia’s head dropped to her arms and her thin shoulders shook.
Garnet knelt beside her, strong arms holding tight. They were still in that position when Garnet became aware someone had entered the room. She looked across Amelia’s bent head at Ralph Peterson.
He nodded. “Mrs. Madigan.”
She patted Amelia’s shoulder and stood. “Good afternoon, Sergeant.”
“Can you talk?” He looked at Amelia.
“I can’t say anything she doesn’t already know.”
“A Mrs. Truesdale called. Our people are out there poking into what’s left of the truck. Is Watson the only one hurt?”
“Yes.”
He eyed her disheveled hair and reddened cheek. “Are you sure you‘re all right?” “Yes.”
“Can you give me some details? The ones I have are sketchy.”
“If not for Ottice, I’d have been in the truck. Killed, not badly hurt as he is.” She described the incident, the way Ottice had tried to start the truck, and the results. She cringed as she recalled the exact moment she realized what had happened. “Is your daughter at home?”
“School.”
“David authorized a bodyguard for her. He wanted you to know.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” She wanted to ask how David was doing, but she didn’t. He couldn’t be other than doing badly.
Amelia straightened, blinked, and her expression changed. “Tell me what’s happening at Cleansweep. What started it?”
“Rough stuff.” Garnet said. “It started with threatening phone calls and escalated from there to attempted murder. If you want to quit, I won’t blame you.”
“Must think I’m yellow instead of mulatto. I don’t like bullies any better than I like murderers.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with tissues Garnet handed her. “’Cept for Ottice, you’d be dead. ‘Cept for the way he does things, he would be, too.” “Miss Jones, you know anyone who might have a grudge against Ottice Watson?” Garnet spoke. “Look, Sergeant, it had nothing to do with anyone but me and Cleansweep. I’ve reported it to the police. They ride by the lot everyday and see nothing out of order. It’s designed that way. Whoever’s after me is working from the inside or from information gained from watching our routine. I think your crime lab will find the device in the truck was set to go off about the time I decided to wash it. It was supposed to destroy the machine, not hurt anyone personally. Bad timing on my part to decide to wash the vehicle.”
“I’d be inclined to think they had all kinds of injury in mind, Mrs. Madigan.” “Maybe.” She stared at her hand, dirt from the old gloves beneath the nail of thumb and forefinger. “Did you question the two employees who left Cleansweep recently?” “Give me their names and addresses again.” Peterson had finished jotting down the information and turned to leave when David came into the room.
Garnet was glad she was sitting down. Her insides jarred as she noted the weariness behind the cold gray eyes, the stiffness of wide shoulders, the hostility. Their one night together was the biggest mistake she’d ever made. She looked away from him and at her loosely clasped hands. They never could have been friends, but she hated like hell to have him for an enemy.
David nodded to each of them, then looked at Garnet. “Tell me what happened.” Hell.
“I gave a full report to Sergeant Peterson just like you’ve instructed me previously, Lieutenant. I’m sure he’ll let you take a look at it. Nothing’s changed.”
She was aware of Peterson’s surprised expression, and Amelia’s puzzled smile. She didn’t care what they thought. No matter how hurt David was, he had no right to assume she’d go through something as painful as the accident once more just because he asked. What the hell’s he doing here anyway? Why isn’t he somewhere nursing his own misery?
“I appreciate your authorizing a bodyguard for Lyn. Should I keep her home from school?”
“No. She can be watched there better than at home, and it won’t be as obvious.” That didn’t make sense to Garnet, but she didn’t argue. What did she know about police procedure?
“Have you had those burns looked at?” David said. He had moved close to her. “They’re nothing. I’ll put ointment on them when I get home.”
His hand cupped her chin and turned her face away from him. “That’s a nasty bruise on your cheek. It needs taking care of.”
It was an effort not to jerk away. She stiffened her spine and braced her legs to keep them from trembling.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t think so.” He touched the dark red streak on her arm.
She flinched but didn’t respond to him. She bent over Amelia. “I’m going home to change clothes and be there when Lyn comes home.” She turned to David. “I’m glad the threats are out in the open. Maybe now you’ll have something substantial to track.” With the hostility visible to everyone, she could fight better. The enemy gets bolder, rougher, meaner. Maybe they theorize she won’t allow Lyn to be hurt. She’ll knuckle under if she sees how serious they are.
