Not Dead Yet (15 page)

“Oh yeah,” Colleen said without hesitation.

“What if he’s holding Rose against her will? Would they help him?” Jack asked.

“Rose don’t have no will,” Colleen set them straight.  “That was beat out of her years ago.  She’d come running to me after he beat the crap out of her, then he’d come over, give her that look, and she’d go back home with him.  I used to rail on her about it until I figured out she had no fight left.”

“Didn’t your parents try to help her?” Theia asked.

“No,” Colleen shook her head.  “She went crying to them early on when she was first married. They told her, ‘You made your bed, now you can sleep in it.’ Then they closed the door in her face.”

“Harsh,” Lu gave a low whistle.

“Yeah, how can you not help your kid when you see they’re hurting?” Colleen asked. “Her life has been a nightmare.”

Did she have to say ‘nightmare?’ Theia wondered. Just the mention of the word caused scenes from the recurring nightmare to spring into her head. Strapped to the table, Foster in surgical garb, scalpels.  She had to get control of her thoughts and stop these images from popping up. She had to focus on trying to find Rose.  The problem was that trying to find Rose was the very thing that kept triggering the memories.

“And you couldn’t help her, since she always went back to him,” Jack commented.

“Yeah.  She was worried about the kids.  She couldn’t leave them,” Colleen said.  “Lot of good it did her.  They both ran away as soon as they could drive.  Here’s a picture of them from a few years back.”

“Can you call and see if they’ve heard from Donald or Rose?” Lu asked.

“I wouldn’t know how to contact them.  Rose hasn’t heard from them for over a year.  The last she heard, they were homeless, doing heroin and living under a highway overpass somewhere in California.”

“That’s rough.  They won’t die of old age doing that.  Who are these other people?” Jack asked.

“This is Donald’s sister, Rita, the one who lives here in town.” She pointed to a tall, skinny leather-skinned woman whose hair was almost in a crew cut.  “She keeps her hair short on account of drug tests.  She always did like to dress up,” Colleen said, nodding at the woman’s sleeveless black AC/DC t-shirt with jagged cut-off jeans shorts.  “That’s all the locals. The sister in Seattle hasn’t come back to town for a good ten years. The brother, Nathan, is still in prison, at least that’s what they said at the reunion last month.”

“Are there any old pictures that might show Nathan and the other sister?” Jack asked. “We probably won’t run into them, but we should know what they look like just in case.”

“That’s a good idea.”  Colleen flipped to the front of the scrapbook and slowly paged through, studying the photographs. “Here’s one of the sister from Seattle.” She turned another page. “Here’s Nathan, and a newspaper clipping from when he went to prison.” The man in the photo looked like Donald, just a few inches shorter.

“How long is he in for?” Lu asked.

“Says here ‘life without,’” Theia pointed.

Colleen set the scrapbook on the pile of clutter on the coffee table.

“So, what do we do now?” Colleen asked.

“I guess we see if he’s hiding with Rita or his parents.  Does this look like Rita’s current address?”  Jack asked Colleen, pointing to the address on the paper from Lu’s file.

“I don’t think so. She got divorced a couple years ago, and I think she lives with her boyfriend now.”

“Do you know his name, or where he lives?” Jack asked.

“His name is Steve, and he lives in south City. I’ve been there.”

“Do you think Steve and Rita would help Donald?” Jack asked Colleen.

“Well, they all hate each other’s guts, but they’d kill for each other too,” Colleen replied.

“Lovely,” Theia mumbled.

They all climbed into Jack’s car.  Funny how quickly people could develop camaraderie when they were thrown together into a pot of shit.

CHAPTER TEN

They drove to a decaying neighborhood in South City, that had once been a community of solid, hard-working immigrant families. People used to take pride in maintaining their small houses on tidy little lots. They swept the sidewalks and even the streets in front of their houses, but that was several decades ago.

Since then, things had changed. Some would say the neighborhood had fallen into disrepair, others would say it had gone straight to hell.  South City was a local hotspot for murder and property crimes.  Theia was glad it was daytime and that she was not alone in the car. 

“Is that one theirs?” Lu asked, pointing to a shabby house with rusted awnings and dead shrubbery.  The sidewalk directly in front of their house was missing a section. The houses on either side looked no better.

“I think so.  Look at the dayglow lavender house next door,” Theia commented.  “I’ve always assumed people who paint their houses crazy colors have an alcoholic in the house who needs to be able to find his house when he’s trashed.”

“Either that or they got the paint on clearance,” Colleen suggested.

“I’m thinking they lost a bet,” Lu said.

Dogs barked madly as the group circled around several blocks and parked four houses away. Pit bull mixes lunged at them from inside chain-link fences.

After watching the house for about ten minutes, Jack pulled smoothly out of the neighborhood and headed toward the interstate. The atmosphere in the car had been so tense during their mini-stakeout that few words have been spoken.

“Settle in, ladies,” Jack informed them.  “We have about an hour’s drive to Cruella and the Pervert’s house.”

“So, Colleen,” Lu began.  “We all know each other, but we don’t know anything about you.  Are you married?  Do you have any kids? What do you do for a living?”

“I don’t have no kids, and what I do for a living is my business.  And as for men – well, men are pigs,” Colleen shrugged her shoulders.

“Whoa!  That’s pretty harsh!” Jack objected. “Did one guy in particular make you such a fan of our gender, or did it build up over time?”

“Oh, I learned it from nearly every man I’ve ever met.  Men are all trouble, just in different ways.” Colleen paused for dramatic effect, then went on.  She did love to tell a story.  “Take my high school sweetheart.  I thought the sun rose and set out of his ass.  The problem was, so did he.  We fooled around one too many times the summer after graduation, and I got knocked up.  We’d already been talking about getting married, but I was so crazy about him that I wanted him to marry me because he wanted to, not because he thought he had to. Besides, I never did think he liked me as much as I liked him. Anyway, he got mad because I wouldn’t do a quickie wedding.  He went and ran off with my best friend, or I should say, the slut I thought was my best friend.”  Colleen pretended to spit on the floor.

“What about the baby?” Lu asked.

“I went to the clinic and took care of that,” Colleen replied.  “I was eighteen, and wasn’t about to be stuck with the kid of a man who didn’t want me.  The funny thing is, I saw him a few years ago at a street party, and I can’t figure out what I ever saw in him.”

“Yeah, weird, isn’t it?” Lu added. “You go to your high school reunion and look at the guys you had mad crushes on in school. Back then we thought they were rock stars.  Now, they’re more like fours and fives, if they’re lucky.  Bald heads, beer guts, and hair sprouting out of places God never intended.”

“But Colleen, I can’t believe just one guy made you conclude all men are pigs.  Come on, what other skeletons are in your closet?” Jack wheedled.

“I was working at a bar, and one of the regular beer delivery guys caught my eye,” Colleen answered.  “Apparently I caught his eye, too.  So we ran off to Vegas and got married.  We had four great months, then we realized we hated each other and got a divorce.  No kids, thank God.”

“Okay, but that’s only two bad break-ups,” said Theia.

“Two? Girlfriend, I’ve been married five times. And I can tell you, they were all pigs.”  Colleen leaned back, smug and quite satisfied with herself. 

“Geez, I’ve never even been engaged,” said Lu.  “My life sounds so boring.  I think I’ll just marry myself.”

“Why would you do that?” Colleen asked.

“I know I’m compatible with myself,” Lu shrugged.  “I don’t leave the seat up or throw my dirty socks on the floor.  I’ll never divorce myself or cheat on myself.  And hell, I can practically read my own mind.”

Colleen frowned at her.  “That’s fucked up.”

“It takes a while for her humor to grow on people,” Jack explained to Colleen.

“So what about you?” Colleen turned to Theia.  “What’s your track record with men?”

“Not much to tell,” Theia lied.  “I was married in college.  Divorced in law school.  No kids.  I don’t date and don’t want to.” 

“Why’d you divorce?” Colleen wanted to know.  “Was he a cheater?”

“He had a bad temper.”

“Oh, I hate that,” Colleen chimed in.  “I told every one of my husbands he better not yell at me, or I’d knock them into next week.”

“Did that work?” Lu asked.

“No, but when they yelled at me, I yelled back double,” Colleen declared.

“Here’s our exit,” Jack said, pulling off the highway.  He found his way into the small town about four miles off the highway, then turned onto a side road. 

“Are we on the right road?” Colleen asked.

“How the hell should I know?” Jack replied.  “There aren’t any signs out here.”

Several miles down, planted right on the road, they saw a little shack that looked ready to fall over in the next thunderstorm. The word “Catalino” was handpainted  freestyle on the mailbox.

“Why do people move all the way out to the boonies and then live right smack dab on the road?  Do they want privacy or not?” Lu asked.

“We don’t want them to notice us,” Jack cautioned. “Colleen, turn your face away, in case anyone’s looking.”

“Oh crap, you’re right. Sorry,” Colleen turned her head.

“Okay, everyone else, faces forward. We’re just some city slickers out for a summer drive,” Jack continued.

He did not slow down as they passed the house. He drove on for several miles, until Lu said, “Hey? What are you doing?”

“I want to know how far apart the neighbors are, and to know what buildings are in the area.”

“Okay, but do you have to map the entire county?” Lu complained.

Jack continued to drive.  Eventually he turned the car around and drove slowly back by the house.  He looked intense but did not say a single word.

Little was said during the drive back to St. Louis. They went over to Jack’s place, a suite at an extended-stay business traveler hotel.

“This is nice!” Colleen said, slinking around the rooms and running her hand along the furniture. “What did you say you do for a living?”

“He’s not a spy,” Theia said.

Jack glared at her.

“We need to decide what to do next,” he said. “He might be hiding with his parents or his sister. Do we want to try to get more information or call the police with the addresses we found?”

“Do you think the police will do anything if we give them the addresses?” asked Lu.

“I don’t know.  If anyone has any brilliant ideas, now’s the time to speak up,” said Jack.

“Well, you work in ‘security’—can’t you call some secret number, give them the addresses and they’ll send in the troops?” Lu asked.

“You’ve been watching too many Hollywood movies, little sister,” he ruffled her hair.

“Can we hire someone to find out what’s going on inside those houses?” asked Theia.

“Sure, we could pay a private investigator a hundred dollars an hour to sit in his car, smoke cigarettes, eat greasy burgers and tell us he didn’t see anything. Okay, everyone.  Pony up five hundred bucks each so we can pay the PI,” Jack said.

“Well you don’t have to be sarcastic,” Theia replied.

“Look, I don’t care what we do, but we have to do something,” Colleen insisted.

Theia sighed, “I hate to say this, but I think our best option is to talk to the police. Just let me stock up on ice packs and Vicodin first, in case Donald pays me another visit.”

“That’s not going to happen, because you’re not going to be alone for one minute until this thing is done,” Jack said.  His protective nature was in full force, especially since he was developing feelings for Theia.  He tried to tell himself it was merely a physical attraction, but he knew better.

“How’s that?” Theia asked.

“For starters, you’re moving in here,” Jack replied.

“No, I’m not.”

“Give me one good reason why not.”

“I have cats,” Theia said.

“Bring the damn things.”

“Where will I sleep?”

“There’s a perfectly good sofa here,” Jack answered.

“Mom didn’t raise you to make a girl sleep on the sofa,” Lu protested.

“Mom didn’t raise me to take in strays,” he replied.

“Stray?” Theia bit off the word, picked up a sofa pillow and nailed him. “And what’ll I do at the office and at court? In a few days, I’ll have to get back to work.  I don’t know how I’d explain who you are and why you’re there.” Secretly, she felt her pulse leap at the prospect of spending night and day with him.  The more time she spent with Jack, the stronger the attraction.  Theia found this exciting yet unnerving, as she had not had a serious relationship since Foster. Lust and fear were at war within her.   Something else was there as well, waiting to see who won the war.  That something was hope.  Very weak, but hope nonetheless.  Did she dare hope that she could care for someone again?  No, she would wait to see who won the inner battle.