The max porter box set, p.41
The Max Porter Box Set, page 41
Sandra walked over and kissed the top of his head. “I understand.” He knew she did. They had been through enough economic turns together that she had to share the same short-term and long-term fears he held.
“Great,” Drummond continued. “You two are all lovey-dovey about taking on a case that might kill you because the money makes you feel secure. I’m so glad we’re partners in all of this.”
Max shook his head. “Come on, it’s not like that. I did hear your concerns and I share them. I haven’t been hiding my feelings about witches. Even Sandra’s dabbling bothers me.”
Sandra’s eyes flared. “Don’t start that again. That was settled.”
“You didn’t give me much choice. Basically, I was told you’re delving into witchcraft and I better just shut up and like it.”
“That’s not at all what happened and you know it.”
“See?” Drummond shot between them. “This is part of it right here. We haven’t even begun working the case and already it’s got us at each other’s throats. I’m telling you right now, go pick up the phone, call the Mobley Coven and tell them we quit.”
The front door burst open and Max’s mother rushed in followed by the Sandwich Boys, PB and J. For a fleeting breath, Max thought he had been saved from the argument, but a quick survey of his mother’s stern face and the boys’ foul moods suggested fighting with Sandra and Drummond would be the lesser pain.
Mrs. Porter stormed over to the coffee maker and slammed through the process of setting it up. “I know I’m the new one around here, but I’m also the oldest among you. You act like I’m fresh off the turnip truck.”
PB puffed up his teenage chest. “I don’t even know what that means.”
Jammer J kept his head low and slunk toward the back corner. He always struck Max as a smart boy, smarter than most, and he continued to prove it by knowing when to get out of the way.
Mrs. Porter turned back with a coffee scoop in her hand. “It means, young man, that I have raised a boy before and I have dealt with stubborn men before and you will not win this. You’re going to get registered, and you are going to school.”
Max let loose a relieved laugh. “Is that all this is about? You had me thinking something bad had happened.”
“Something bad will happen to these boys if nobody starts to take responsibility for them.” She curled her lip towards Sandra. “Maybe it’s a good thing you two never had kids. You can’t even handle boys that are almost grown.”
Sandra’s entire body went rigid, and Max readied to leap between the two women should it come to actual blows.
“This is stupid,” PB said, breaking the tension as he strutted around the room with teenage arrogance. “I been doing just fine without school. Got a job, got a place to live, got enough money to live. Isn’t that what school is for? To help you get those kinds of things? Well, I already got them. Seems pretty clear I don’t need school’s help.”
Mrs. Porter gestured to PB like a game show hostess displaying a prize. “Need I say more?”
Sandra’s fingers curled into tight fists. In an even tighter voice, she said, “Don’t belittle him.”
“I’m trying to get through to all of you that these boys need an education. The fact that you can’t see that I’m right only further proves the need for a sure hand around here. I’m the only experienced person amongst the lot of you. And if I can raise Max into the fine man he is, I can certainly make the right decisions for these boys. Somebody has to.”
Slamming her laptop closed, Sandra gathered up her things. She stomped to the door. “We’ve got a case that needs some research done. I’ll go talk with our clients and get started.” She walked out, making sure to give the office door a strong bang.
“Um,” Drummond said, “I think I’ll take a look around the building. Make sure the office is secure. When you finish in here, I’ll be ready to start our end of the investigation.”
Max couldn’t decide which excuse was more ridiculous, but he wanted to say something before Drummond left. Talking to a ghost, however, would only upset his mother more. Instead, he got to his feet and approached her. But before he could speak, she put her fists to her hips and leaned forward — a stance he knew too well and it filled him with the same fear he had as a child. He was in trouble.
“Now you listen to me,” she began, and he stopped mid-stride. “Your wife is your wife and I’m not going to get in the middle of that. She and I don’t agree on much, and that’s fine. I can handle the way things are between us all. If your wife wants to be disrespectful to the mother of her husband and you don’t wish to defend me, that’s fine. Marriage comes with a price and sometimes it’s the other members of a family that have to pay it. But these boys should not be the ones to suffer because the two of you can’t get your act together.”
PB had gravitated toward J. “We don’t need school. We’re survivors and all school is gonna do is fill us up with nonsense that can’t help us out. Not with the kind of lives we got.”
“But don’t you see?” She brushed by Max and put her arms out to the boys. “An education can change all that. You can have a better life. You can have more.”
“Heard it all before. And Jammer J’s black. You think he’s going to get anything more just because he got an education? Come on.” To Max, he added, “You know I’m right. We got a good thing here working for you. Don’t let this school thing screw it all up.”
Bad enough to be stuck in the middle of this verbal tug-o-war, but Max’s mind kept trying to follow Sandra. She could handle talking with the coven just fine, but her entire demeanor struck him as worrisome. They had not talked much about her casting more and more spells, yet he knew she wanted to do so. What if the coven convinced her to become a full-fledged witch?
“Are you even listening to me?” Mrs. Porter said.
“Enough,” Max said, startling his mother. “I can’t do everything, and right now, I’ve got to work on a case that’s going to pay for all of our food and clothes and such. You boys like being paid regularly, right? Well, this is what I have to do to make sure that happens. So, when it comes to your educations, my mother is in charge.” He raised a finger to stop PB’s objection. “J is too young to avoid school. PB, you’re probably too young also. But there are dropout ages that we can’t stop you from leaving school, so we need to find out about that. Don’t get your hopes up — I’m pretty sure you’ve got some school coming your way.”
PB’s mouth disappeared as his eyes narrowed. “That’s not right.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s the way of it. Mom, you take J with you and get him all squared away. PB will work with me today, and perhaps he and I can talk about this further.”
Mrs. Porter clutched J’s hand. “I’d rather take care of both boys at the same time. It’ll be easier.”
“You’ll manage.”
She paused, perhaps considering whether to argue further, but then she said to J, “Come along.”
After they left, PB stormed over to the small bathroom next to the kitchenette. “I’m not going.”
“We’ll discuss it later. Right now, I’ve got a secret job for you to do.”
PB poked his head out of the bathroom. He couldn’t suppress the grin on his face. “I’m in.”
Chapter 3
MAX IGNORED PB’S PESTERING as he led the way downstairs to his car parked on the street. He started it up, turned on the air-conditioning, and waited. He could feel PB staring at him, but he said nothing.
After telling PB he had a special mission for the boy, he thought about all that his mother had said. He never liked putting the Sandwich Boys in danger, but he also knew that keeping them on a tight leash would only drive them away. And while he had no misguided view that he was their father, he still felt obligated to be something of a parental figure towards them.
Apparently not enough to put them into school.
The truth there was simple — it never had occurred to him. Why would it? He hadn’t spent years raising these boys from infants, learning to care for them, to put their needs before his own, to plan for their futures. He never disciplined them or potty-trained them or anything. Really he was just their employer.
Don’t start lying to yourself. They’re much more than employees.
“Listen,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “Before I send you out there on this job, I want you to consider something.”
PB screwed his mouth up as he gazed out the side window. “This is about school, isn’t it?”
“My mom just wants to look out for you guys. She’s not trying to be mean, but sometimes, I guess, as a parent, you have to do the tough things.”
“I know that. I’m not mad at her. I don’t see the point of school for me, that’s all. It’s too late.”
Max wanted to reach over and hug the boy, but he knew better. “I don’t believe that, but you’ve got to make your own decisions.”
“That’s right. I’m practically an adult. Been living like one for years. So let me make up my own mind.”
“There’s a difference between being an adult and being practically an adult, but we can let it rest for now. Any way you cut it, you’re not going to school today.” Max took a deep breath. “I want you to do something for me, and if you do it right, you’ll be fine. But if you screw up, it could be extremely dangerous — to us both.”
PB faced Max and put on a serious, firm face. “You can trust me.”
“Never doubted it.”
“What do I got to do?”
“I want you to follow Sandra. See where she goes, what she’s doing, that kind of thing.”
PB’s eyes widened further than Max thought possible. “You want me to spy on your wife?”
“I know you don’t believe in the ghosts and magic and all of that, but you’ve been around us enough to know that there are people who do believe. They call themselves witches and they practice witchcraft and all of it. Well, those are the types of people we’re dealing with on this case. Sandra’s really fascinated by them, and that kind of fascination can lead a person to take unwise risks. You follow?”
PB nodded. “You want me to be her backup without her knowing. Protect her, if something goes wrong. That kind of thing.”
“Exactly. Watch her and be there to protect her. But mostly just watch her and then report to me. Especially if there’s trouble.”
“I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. You’ll have to. But don’t be foolish enough to take on an entire coven by yourself. You call me for reinforcements. Got it?”
A queasy pallor overcame PB’s cheeks. “She’s not going to like this.”
“That’s why it’s a secret. You are not to be seen by her. That’s the most important part of it.”
“I don’t know. I want to help, but she’s a tough lady. I mean when she’s mad — dang, take cover. You know?”
“Of course, I know. But let me make it clearer for you. You have a choice — either go spy on my wife or go to school.”
Whipping out his phone, PB said, “What’s the coven’s address?”
After giving PB the particulars, the boy got out of the car and headed off. Max did not ask how he intended to get all the way to the suburban development. He had learned that he could never stop the boy from certain activities — swiping a car or a bike for a few hours being one of them.
“Have you lost your marbles?” Drummond said appearing in the backseat. “You sent that kid off to spy on Sandra. She’s going to kill you both.”
“At least then I won’t have to worry about my curse.”
“Instead, you can worry about me busting your skull every single day for eternity.”
“Would you rather I asked you to spy on her?”
“I would’ve refused.”
“Exactly.” Max pulled out into traffic and headed south toward the highway — rather than navigate the twists and turns of city streets, it would be faster to jump over to 52 South, get off on Sprague Street, and then pop up to Waughtown. “Do you think I’m wrong? I don’t mean the spying — of course, that’s wrong — I mean the concern. She’s so into the witch side of things, I worry she won’t be thinking clear enough to deal with them.”
“Hey, I warned you both not to take the case.”
“I swear, if you bring that up one more time —”
“Okay, okay.” Drummond tapped his pursed lips. “Here’s what I really think — you should be worried and you shouldn’t be worried.”
“Gee, that’s a big help.”
“Sandra’s a tough customer. She might get a bit lost in her head on this one, you’re right about that, and I can see why that troubles you. Don’t forget, I once dated a witch. It’s tricky business. But if there’s anybody I ever met that I think could handle the situation, could really dig deep into that world without being seduced by its power, it’s Sandra. Heck, she could even be President of the United States and not get corrupted. Maybe. Nah, nobody can handle that job dirt-free.”
“I don’t care about her being President, I just don’t want to lose the woman I love.”
Drummond brought his hands together in one firm clap. “You’re right. I’ve been going about this backwards. I shouldn’t be berating you for taking the case. I should be helping you solve it. The faster we close this case, the faster we get Sandra away from that coven.”
Max drum-rolled his hands on the steering wheel. “Now you’re talking.”
“Great. Where are we headed?”
“They said Laverne Mobley was going to the pharmacy. So I figured we should check out the pharmacy.”
Chapter 4
FROM THE OUTSIDE, the Triad Pharmacy looked like an old bank. All brick with a chimney on the side, the building went with a long and narrow style of architecture. A simple cupola perched atop the roof.
Max exited the car and studied the area. Across Waughtown, he saw a butcher, an auto repair and body shop, and a giant bull statue mounted on two posts. It had brown and white painted fur, horns, and stood even with the telephone lines. The concrete sidewalk stretched up and down the road except for a near-oval section directly in front of the pharmacy. This section had been done with brick, along with the two steps and short wheelchair ramp leading to the entrance.
“Whoever designed this place sure liked brick.”
Drummond said, “Your situational awareness sucks. If you paid attention, you’d have seen long ago that most of this town is brick. Reynold’s tobacco, Old Salem, schools and warehouses. Bricks everywhere. We probably have more brick homes than any of those northern colonial towns.”
“That’s really more environmental awareness. Situational awareness is noticing if the guy across the street is acting threatening or not.”
“That’s odd,” Drummond said.
Max thought his partner was setting up another quip, but then he noticed the ghost’s inquisitive gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“No police. If somebody was kidnapped here, there should be police.”
“Maybe it happened elsewhere. On her way here, perhaps.”
“No, not on her way. We were told that Laverne called from the pharmacy.”
“So then on her way home. Or maybe it did happen here and the cops have already come and gone. Businesses tend to push the police away as fast as possible — crime scenes aren’t good for profits.”
Drummond tapped his chin as he floated in front of the building. Max pulled out his phone to take a few pictures — partly because they might need them, mostly because he started getting odd looks from the few pedestrians noticing a man talking to himself on the sidewalk.
“I think we’re ignoring the more probable reason,” Drummond said in a grim tone that did not match the sunny day surrounding them. “The coven said they didn’t want police involvement. So, here we are — no police.”
“You think they have a spell to make the police forget about a crime? That’s a bit far-fetched.”
“Not a spell. Just influence. Mother Hope isn’t the only witch out there who tries to control things. And if that’s your goal, you’ve got to have people on the inside of every important government organization — especially, the police.”
“Well, if that’s the case, if Lena Mobley used her influence to keep the cops away so we can investigate here, then I’m thinking that’s what we should do. She’s paying the bills on this one.”
“Don’t remind me.”
They entered the building. Icy air prickled Max’s skin. At least the owners were not skimping on the air conditioning.
Products of various types lined the walls like a convenience store — from bags of chips to rolls of toilet paper to cans of hairspray. Narrow aisles shelved even more. In the back stood a tall counter separating the main floor from all the actual pharmaceuticals.
Max stepped down an empty aisle and picked up the first item he saw — shaving cream. As he pretended to inspect the label, he muttered, “I don’t know what we should do in here. Everything looks normal.”
“Keep shopping. I’ll recon the building.” Drummond slipped off through the walls. Less than a minute later, he returned. “Nothing suspicious in the rest of the building. Not much outside either, but I know what we’ll do. It’s time for a classic detective technique — lying.”
Max smirked. “Tell me what to say.”
After a short bit of coaching, Max approached the back counter. A thin gentleman with thinner hair and heavy wrinkles stepped over in a white lab coat. “May I help you?”
Using as much confidence and authority as he could muster, Max said, “I’m Detective Chalmers. A young lady was abducted yesterday morning in this area and I’ve been asking local businesses to help us create a timeline, perhaps even a pathway that the criminals took.”
The man laced his fingers against his stomach. “It’s been quiet here.”
“I’m sure it has. Otherwise, you would have called us in. But you have surveillance cameras mounted outside.” Drummond had spotted the cameras as well as the surveillance recording room set up adjacent to the manager’s office in the back. Max continued, “If I could just go over yesterday morning’s video, I’ll be out of your way as fast as possible.”
