Love lessons, p.13
Love Lessons, page 13
“I said this is a hold up!”
Jolene jerked awake as dream Billy Hank’s words became a scream. She looked at Mrs. McKinney, who stared back at her with wide, shocked eyes. Then the older lady pointed at a stranger standing in front of them.
“Wake up, bitch! This is a robbery. Give me the money.” The would-be robber was a middle-aged woman with tattooed arms and healed scar lines all down them. Her brash tinted blond hair flew around her except for the left side, which had been shaved down to lines that matched her scarred appendages. She held a gun and when she grinned, she showed the world her broken, snaggled teeth.
“Erm, m-m-money?” Jolene stammered.
“Y-y-y-yesss,” the obvious drug addict snarled. “Gimme the damn money.”
Jolene got to her feet and opened the cash register. She pulled ones, fives, tens, and a few twenties out of the drawer.
“Here you go,” she mumbled, handing the bills to the woman.
“Listen, don’t give me none of your crap. I know that ain’t all you got here.” The woman sniffed the bills and counted them with quick efficiency. “Where’s the safe?”
“Back there,” Jolene pointed out. “But I don’t have the combination.”
“It’s there. Pat said so.” The woman looked around her, frantic in her hurry. “Let’s go. You can find the combination. I’m sure of it.”
Jolene stared hard at Mrs. McKinney, hoping the elderly woman would take the opportunity to flee when she went into the back. A slight nod assured Jolene that she would.
Making quick steps, Jolene hurried to the back room followed by the robber. Looking around, she couldn’t fathom where the combination might be. The place was a hoarder’s dream of piled-up notebooks, papers, machine parts, and ridiculous, random paraphernalia. She turned to the woman holding the gun and asked, “I don’t suppose Elmore said where it might be, did he?”
The ersatz blonde rolled her eyes. “No, he didn’t tell me where it was, you idiot! Just find it.”
Jolene started looking through stacks of papers, but none of them seemed to hold a clue to the safe’s combination. Repair manuals, parts catalogs, stacks of paid bills, stacks of bills to be paid—a veritable avalanche of paper stood ready to tip over at any moment.
“Well?” the woman screeched.
Jolene sighed and turned around to face her robber. “Don’t rush me. I’m doing the best I can, Miss, uhm, what should I call you?”
“Don’t call me anything, bitch, just get my money. Now!”
Jolene sat down at the desk, rifling through some notebooks. It had to be here, she reasoned. Why would Elmore tell her that?
“Excuse me, did Ellwood say anything else? Any little thing could be a hint.”
“He told me that you are an idiot,” she barked, sticking the gun closer to Jolene’s head. “And I do believe he was right about that.”
She cocked the gun back, bringing a cold sweat to Jolene’s forehead and upper lip. “He just said that the safe combo was in its own safe place. Whatever that means.”
Jolene smiled. “Ah, well, good. That gives us something to work with.” She kept her eyes locked onto the thief’s.
“It does? Good. I may not have to kill you after all.” Her jack o’lantern grin shined like a snagged coral in a polluted sea.
Stealing herself for what had to be done, Jolene grabbed the miniature Louisville Slugger bat from the beneath the desk and clutched it in her hands, hoping she could maintain the grip. Keeping her eyes locked on her target, she lied the best falsehood she could conjure. “That would be right there behind you in that cabinet under the clock.
As soon as the bleachy hair swung around, Jolene sprang from her seat and came down on the woman’s head with a resounding whack. Hearing the dull thud of the gun’s hammer hitting an empty chamber, she hit her again, and then again. By the time the police rushed through the door, Jolene had kicked the gun across the floor and was standing over the now still body of the drug addict robber.
“Hands in the air!” the first officer through the door yelled.
Jolene obeyed, eyeing Mrs. McKinney in the lobby. “Bless your heart, ma’am. I appreciate it,” she called out. The older woman nodded and settled down to watch the rest of her soap opera.
“Quiet,” the officer snarled.
“Okay, yes sir.” Jolene waited to be asked for her side of the story.
“Bob,” the other officer squawked, “I think this one may be dead. She’s bleeding like a stuck hog.”
Bob looked at Jolene and grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she isn’t dead. He just gets ruffled up easy.” He hooked his thumb toward the other officer kneeling on the floor.
“Oh, dear,” Jolene sighed. “I just wanted to stop her, not kill her.”
“Let’s have a seat over here, miss. You’re looking a mite pale there,” Officer Bob said, leading her over to the desk chair. “I’ll check on the other girl.”
She watched him as he knelt beside the thief and felt against her neck with his fingers. “She’s okay. Just lost some blood, but head injuries are like that, you know. They always bleed a lot.”
Moving a hunk of the dirty dyed hair aside, he looked at his partner. “Jeepers, Frank! This is Crystal Dawn!”
“What? Are you kidding me? After all this time?” The younger officer looked shocked as he peered at her more closely. “Are you sure, Bob? She looks different than her mug shots.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve arrested Crystal Dawn more times than you’ve even seen those mugs.” Bob laughed and turned to Jolene. “You bagged a good one, miss. And if I’m not mistaken, there is a hefty reward in store for you.”
Jolene shook her head. At that moment, all she wanted was to go home, have a hot shower, and lay on the couch with her cat.
Chapter 10
The warmth of Linus’s small furry body comforted Jolene as she lay on the couch, listening to a jazz station on the radio. Although she had tried to nap, sleep eluded her as images of Crystal Dawn’s ugly face ravaged her memories.
As Bob and Frank, his excitable partner, explained on the ride down to the police station, the woman had been a convict of one sort or another all her life. She had become a juvenile delinquent after her father shot and killed her mother right in front of her at age twelve. By age fourteen, she was doing her first stint of incarceration at a juvenile facility for delinquency and truancy. She got out of there at eighteen, but life was already showing its ugliness in thick lines of scarring across her arms and on her torso. That was the year she also gave birth to a son, who was promptly removed from her custody. The same scenario repeated itself twice more in the following three years. And by age twenty-five, she was so addicted to methamphetamine that she looked like a walking cadaver.
Jolene listened to the story with horror. For all the heartbreak she had experienced in life, at least hers was a clean life. Responsible if poor, and meaningful if lonely.
No wonder Crystal was pumping herself of poison and robbing people with guns. She probably had the self-esteem of a gnat.
Bob continued his story after she had finished retelling the details of the attempted robbery of the laundromat. According to the officer, the thief had been working at a local motel where she had emptied the safe and the front desk drawer before traveling to the laundry.
They asked her all about Pat Elmore and where they might find him after connecting him to being the same guy they had in custody for a few days. All Jolene could think in that precise moment was how much overtime would she have to work until Mr. Patterson filled the empty position.
Henry showed up at the station after returning to the laundromat and finding utter chaos. She could hear his voice carrying down the hall to the small room where she waited. Jolene watched through the glass walls as he ran down the hallway and slid to a stop outside.
“Are you okay? You all right?” he demanded, touching her all over and forcing her to turn under his watchful eye. “Damn it, Jo! I leave to talk a little business and all hell breaks loose!”
Giggling, she patted his shoulder. “There, there, Superman, calm down. Lois Lane got through this one without you.”
He dropped into one of the chairs in the tiny office and sighed. “I have never been so afraid in my entire life. Mrs. McKinney was making no sense at all. Mr. Patterson knew even less than she did. And can we go home now?”
“Soon, I think,” she said. “I just have to sign some paperwork.”
Bob and Frank came by to wish her well and promised they would see her again in court. She introduced them both to Henry, and their eyes widened. Nodding and mumbling about how nice it was to meet him, they hurried out into the hallway and toward the front door of the station.
“What was that all about?” she asked. Henry shrugged his shoulders and insisted that she needed coffee or tea, or perhaps an alcoholic drink.
“I might just take you up on that when we leave here,” she said. “But I’ll be honest. I’m exhausted, I’m starving, and I really need to take another shower. This day has left me feeling dirty and privileged.”
His face reddened. “Privileged? You? Please explain.”
She repeated the stories Bob had told her about Crystal Dawn. “And that,” she finished up, “is why I’m sitting here with a headache and the guiltiest feelings I’ve ever had in my life.”
Henry shook his head. “Look, I know you’ve been stressed to the limit, and nothing I could say right now could change your mind about all this, but all I want is for you to feel safe and secure again.”
An officer brought the forms for her to sign and with the ink still drying, Jolene allowed Henry to lead her out through the front of the station. They wished her well, and someone mentioned he would contact her the next day about the reward money.
“Reward money?” Henry asked as he led her out to the street. “What’s that for?”
“I don’t know. Apparently, this thief had a reward set out for her and I’m getting it because I clouted her in the head with a miniature slugger baseball bat.”
“Oh, wow. You did not.”
She gave him a decisive nod. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
He stuck his arm out and waved down a cab. “Do not argue about this with me,” he warned her in an ominous tone. “We’re getting home as fast as we can.”
“Let’s do it,” she agreed, climbing into the back seat. “I want my cat and a hot cup of tea.”
And now there she was, snuggled up on the sofa with her cat and cup of tea gone cold. Henry, in his exuberant mode of trying to help, was out picking up some food. As much as she wanted to instill the mindset of thriftiness and frugality into his thinking, she felt that after a day’s worth of being robbed and having a gun stuck in her face earned her a meal she didn’t have to cook.
Now that she was once again in her own place, she could admit how frightened she had really been in that office. Druggies were not a threat to take lightly. They would do anything to get their drugs—and the money to buy them—and that sort of desperation was not a joke.
A key in the door lock announced Henry’s return home. Whatever he had brought for dinner smelled delicious and Italian. Her mouth watered as he started pulling things out of enormous paper bags.
“Oh, Henry,” she sighed. “What have you done? This smells like Heaven.”
He smiled. “Only one thing can cure these types of ills, my sweet friend. Lasagna!”
“Yes!” she squealed with delight. “What an aroma.” She breathed in again, almost shaking with anticipation.
He handed her a paper plate with a large square of lasagna, two slices of garlic bread, and salad.
“I think I may die from happiness,” she confessed, “I’ll get us some tea while this is cooling down a little bit.”
“Yes, please,” he called from behind her. “Although I’d prefer you to stay on the couch.”
She brought the tea to the coffee table and handed him one. “The couch is highly overrated.”
“Tell me about it. You don’t have to sleep on the thing.” He took a cautious forkful of the pasta and closed his eyes. “Mmmmmm.”
Jolene followed suit, tasting the sauce, cheese, and Italian sausage that embraced the chewy noodles. “Perfect,” she said. “Just perfect.”
Thirty minutes later, they had polished off the entire loaf of garlic bread, two-thirds of the lasagna, and all the salad. Plus two glasses of tea for each of them.
“How long had it been since we had eaten?” Henry asked. “I feel like I was trying to fill up an empty hole.” An indelicate burp followed.
“I’m not even going to get on you about that because I know you can’t help it. Neither can I,” she said, adding her own belch in for good measure.
“You’re rude.” Henry began picking up the trash.
“No, I’m honest. Don’t throw those leftovers away,” she warned in a sleepy tone. “We can eat them tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “By the way, Mr. Patterson said you are to take a week off while he has some security measures installed in the laundromat.”
“Poor Mr. Patterson. I’ll bet he’s really upset about Elmore.”
“Mr. Patterson is upset about you, my dear. Elmore can go to hell.”
“Henry! Don’t say that!” She scooted over to make room for him on the couch.
“Well, it’s how we feel. We might as well say it out loud.”
“Hmm,” she mused. “Like that old mantra ‘Say it loud; say it proud.’”
“I never said that. I’ve never even heard of that,” he chortled, motioning for her to lay back against the cushions. “Where do you get these things?”
Using his gentle touch, Henry pulled off her socks and began rubbing her feet.
“Oh, Hen, that feels wonderful.” She closed her eyes and relaxed.
“There you go. You need some pampering after today.” He cradled her left foot in his hands, making circles in her flesh with his thumbs.
“You are quite good at that,” she mumbled.
“Well, thank you. Emily never cared for a foot massage.”
Jolene’s eyes flew open, and he laughed.
“I knew that would get a rise out of you,” he said. “Jealousy isn’t your color, hon.”
“Oh, please. I am not jealous of Emily.” She stroked the fur on Linus’s back. “What is there to be jealous of? She’s rude, hateful, and very ugly.”
“Pffft! Emily is not ugly, and you know it.”
Jolene peeked at him. “So, you think she’s pretty?”
“Of course, I do. Because she is. But that’s all there is to it. We’ve been friends most of our lives, but she says she is in love with me. I say, that isn’t accurate.”
“Because you don’t love her?”
“I do love her, but not in the way she wants. I can’t love her.”
Jolene shifted on the couch and sat up. “Why not? Why can’t you love her?”
“Because she’s rich. I don’t want any more rich people in my life.” He patted her calf and smiled. “Just broke ones, like you.”
“Gee, thanks. I feel so special.” She collected their glasses from the coffee table. “More tea?”
“No, thank you. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I drink anymore.” He watched her take them to the sink and wash them out.
“Jo?”
“Yes, Hen?”
“You really scared the crap out of me today.” He looked at his fingernails for distraction. “I thought you were dead, or worse.”
“What’s worse than dead?” she asked. “Being poor?”
“I’m being serious here. Pay attention!”
She giggled at him. “Yes, Hen. I know there are lots of things that could be worse than death, but I’m fine. Everything is fine. No need to worry.”
“I was just saying, you know, that I was worried about you.”
Jolene smiled at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry you were worried, but it’s all good. But that does remind me of something I’d like to get your opinion on, if you don’t mind.”
He patted the cushion next to him. “Absolutely. Come sit with me.”
“Well, this reward, you remember?” she asked.
“Yeah, slightly. What about it?” Henry’s face became serious.
“You know, it’s about twenty thousand, I think.”
“Oh, criminy, I never dreamed it was that much.” He narrowed his eyes. “So, what is it you want me to advise you about?”
“Oh, no, not advise really because I know what I want to do, but just your opinion about some things.”
“Okay,” he said at last. “Shoot. Oh, sorry, bad choice of words considering . . .”
She rolled her eyes. “You are just so punny, aren’t you? OK, I was thinking about using the reward money to send Crystal Dawn to a drug rehab. I’m not sure how much they cost, but with twenty thousand, she should be able to get fixed up well enough.”
Henry stared at her, his mouth agape. A red flush creeped over his cheeks. “You are not serious,” he exclaimed. “You just simply are not serious.”
“Well, yes I am.” She watched him, afraid he might pop a vessel or something. “Of course I am.”
She watched as his face clenched into a crimson knot of rage. “No. No, no, no. Not even you, the queen of nice, could be that stupid. You are not going to spend one cent of that money on Crystal Dawn, mother of meth heads. Do you understand me?”
Without speaking, she nodded.
“I never want to hear you say something like that again. The Crystal Dawns of this world are not worthy of your kindness or your generosity. Jolene, you better believe me. She would have killed you and laughed about it. She and others like her only want what they want and only care about themselves. Don’t you understand that?”
