Live and Let Die (18 page)

“How are you holding up now that you know she’s gone?”

“Relieved. Confused. Sad. Determined to find out what happened to her.”

“How has your family taken all of this?”

“We’ve hired an attorney to find out what our rights are against the police, and we’re mobilizing our church and others in our community to put pressure on them to solve the case.”

“Well, hopefully between me pestering them and all the support you’ve got, this won’t fall through the cracks and we’ll get some justice… for both of them.”

“Do you think… Tracy’s still alive?”

Sondra shook her head slightly as the question that had been swirling in her head for so long was now finally in front of her. “The rational part of me says no, of course not. The hopeful side of me says… maybe. Regardless, I have to find out what happened to her.”

Just then, Kevin’s cell phone jingled. “Excuse me, this could be important.”

While Sondra waited for Kevin to get off the phone, she thought about her sister’s true fate. Would it be as bad as or worse than what had happened to Carol Henderson? She shuddered.

Kevin hung up his phone and gave Sondra an apologetic look.

“That was my job. I’ve got to go and take care of some things.”

Sondra gave him a sympathetic smile. “I understand.” She shot her hand out as he started to gather up his things. “Thank you, Kevin, for taking the time out to meet with me.”

Kevin shook Sondra’s hand. “I just wish it had been for a different reason.”

Sondra gave him a small smile. “Me too.”

“Well, call me before you leave for New York. Maybe we can have dinner.”

Sondra smiled and nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Kevin returned the smile and slung his bag on a diagonal across his body. “Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”

Sondra gave a small wave of her fingers as she watched him walk out of the shop.

P
aula perched on the edge of the couch, anxious as she waited for Phillip to inspect her work. He’d said if it was found to be satisfactory, she could go across the street to Cindy Cross’ house for the once-promised cup of coffee.

“Everything appears to be in order,” he said. “You may go. But only for twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” she nodded, trying to keep the happiness from slipping through her lips.

“Well, I’m ready,” he said.

“Oh, right,” Paula said as she hopped off the couch. She helped him with his coat, kissed him goodbye and scampered into the bedroom once he was gone. She would wear the blue dress. That seemed to complement her skin tone. After changing into the dress and smoothing down her bun, Paula made the short trip across the street. For summer, it was a chilly morning and the breeze cut into her like a knife. She took a tentative step onto Cindy’s stoop.

“It’s okay,” she whispered to herself. “It will only be twenty minutes, then you will go home and do your work.”

Paula took a deep breath and brought a shaky finger to the doorbell, wincing as she pressed it. She waited. Nothing. Paula looked to her right. The silver car was in the driveway, so she must be home. Paula tried again. She rang the doorbell once more and waited.

“She’s not here,” Paula said aloud, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. With a final sad glance at the door, Paula turned to make the trip back to her house when the door swung open.

“Paula?” Cindy said.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t think you were home,” Paula said as she turned back to face Cindy.

“I had the blow-dryer on,” Cindy said as the frosty morning air whispered through her hair. “Did you need something? More Sweet ‘N Low?”

“Oh, no, no, I just… Well, you had mentioned having coffee sometime and I was wondering if you might like to have some this morning,” Paula stammered.

Cindy shoved her hands inside the pockets of her blue terrycloth robe and leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”

With a grateful, gushing smile, Paula all but skipped inside and found herself facing the stylish, but toy-strewn living room.

“Excuse the mess,” Cindy said as though she could read Paula’s mind. “My kids were watching TV in here this morning before my husband took them to school. It’s amazing the damage kids can do during the space of a thirty minute cartoon.” Cindy gestured toward the kitchen as she began to bound up the stairs.

“Let me throw some clothes on. Just have a seat at the table, and I’ll be right down.”

Paula pulled out the oak chair from the table and sat down, perching on the edge. The Cross kitchen was so different from her own white-washed one. Cheerful yellow curtains decorated with diminutive blue flowers framed the kitchen window, which looked out to Paula’s house. Two blue and purple plastic bowls were stacked haphazardly next to the kitchen sink, which was adorned with sponges, a half-full bottle of orange dishwashing liquid and a coffee mug with a yellow smiley face on the side. The stainless steel refrigerator was plastered with Crayola masterpieces, assorted colorful magnets, and pizza coupons. The table where Paula sat had a napkin holder crammed full of baby blue napkins and two yellow plastic placemats, each with a tiny buzzing bumblebee, beneath wet Cheerios and sticky fruit juice.

“Okay,” Cindy said as she breezed in, now changed into a pair of jeans and form-fitting red t-shirt. “I don’t drink decaf, so all I’ve got is regular. Is that cool with you?”

Paula nodded and smiled. “Oh, yes, regular is fine.”

Cindy smiled as she went to pull out the coffee packets. “Good. Oh, and I use sugar and real full-fat milk. None of that creamer or Sweet ‘N Low crap.” Paula winced and Cindy clucked her tongue. “Sorry.”

“Your kitchen,” Paula said, “it’s different.”

Cindy turned around from filling the coffee machine and looked at Paula. “Um… thanks. We like it. Still settling in though, you know. As you know we moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.”

“What about you? How long have you lived here?”

“About three years.”

“Where were you before?

Paula felt her breath quicken. Phillip had been right. This was a bad idea. “The other side of town,” she said, remembering what Phillip had always trained her to say if pressed for details. “My husband got another job and this neighborhood was closer.”

Cindy put milk, sugar and spoons on the table before she slid into the chair opposite Paula. “That’s funny. That’s why we moved over here. Must be something in the water. Any brothers or sisters?”

“No. I’m an only child. So is my husband.”

“Oh, I always wanted to be an only child. I have an older sister. We’re three years apart. What about your folks? Are they still here?”

“Both my parents are dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes.”

Cindy wrinkled her nose. So, how long have you been married?”

“About two years. We were high school sweethearts.”

Cindy’s eyes widened. “Oh. Why did you wait so long to get married? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“He moved away and got married. She died.”

“Hmmm. Wow,” Cindy said. The coffee maker emitted a muffled beeping to indicate the coffee was done brewing. Cindy stood up and went to retrieve two mugs from the cabinet.

“You have children,” Paula said rather than asked.

Cindy nodded as she poured Vanilla French Roast into the oversized mugs and brought them to the table. “Sure do. Are you and your husband planning to have children one day?”

“I can’t have children. Besides, we don’t want any.”

“Oh,” Cindy said as she dumped another heap of sugar into her coffee.

“How old are your children?”

“Jake is six and my daughter, Tracy, is four.”

Paula almost dropped the carton of milk she had picked up. “What?”

Cindy narrowed her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Paula felt her mouth go dry as she tried to regain her composure. “Tracy was the name of Phillip’s first wife. I don’t like talking about her.”

Cindy stirred her coffee, the metal spoon clanking against the sides of the mug. “Okay, we won’t,” she said as she pulled the spoon out and blew into the toffee-colored liquid to cool it off.

Paula stared down into her coffee, her breath coming in short, heavy puffs. She was longing for the comfort of her pasty kitchen.

“Can I get you something?” Cindy asked. “An aspirin, anything?”

Paula shook her head before she snapped it up. “No. Phillip is the only one who gives me medication of any kind.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go. I told Phillip I would only spend twenty minutes over here. I have to clean the windows today. Thank you for your time.” Paula scraped the chair backwards across the linoleum tiles, her feet getting tangled up with the legs as she did so. She managed to disengage from the chair and darted for the door.

Cindy watched her for a moment before she scooted her own chair back and went to follow Paula, who already had the front door open.

“Paula, is something wrong? You can tell me what it is.”

“No. No. I’ve already said too much.”

Before Cindy could say anything else, Paula had zipped across the street to her own house, entered and shut the door.

P
hillip smoothed down the glued-on mustache and adjusted the edge of the wool ski cap covering the tips of his ears. Keegan was waiting for him by the back entrance, his foot stuck between the wall and the door.

“What the hell took you so long? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. And what’s with the fake mustache?” Keegan leaned in. “Who are you hiding from?”

“We’re not here to talk about me.”

Keegan rolled his eyes and opened the door for Phillip. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The two men scurried down the bright hallway in silence. Keegan unlocked his office door and Phillip took the chair in front of his desk.

“How’s she doing?”

Keegan flipped open a metal chart. “Well, she sleeps twenty hours a day.”

“That’s the idea. You’ve been giving her the medication?”

“Yes, everyday,” Keegan said, exasperated.

“What else? Is she asking questions when she’s awake?”

“Yes. I’m telling her what you told me to say.”

Phillip leaned back in his chair and smiled. “That’s good to hear. I can’t thank you enough, doc.”

“Please. I don’t want your gratitude. I want to know when the hell this will be over with.”

“When you need to know, you’ll know.”

Keegan rubbed his eyes. “Dealing with you gives new meaning to ‘The Longest Winter’.”

“Alright, enough with this chit-chat. I’m ready to see her.”

Keegan stared at Phillip for a moment and shook his head. “You know, it’s too bad you didn’t stay a psychology major.”

“Why?”

Keegan slammed her chart closed. “Because you’re real good with the mind fuck.”

S
ondra stubbed her cigarette out on the sidewalk as she waited for Kevin outside of Wishbone in the West Loop. Kevin had said it was a favorite of his. She smiled and waved to him as he ambled over to meet her.

“Hi. Been waiting long?”

“Just long enough for a smoke. I’m glad I called for a reservation. This is a pretty hopping place.”

He opened the door and ushered Sondra inside. “This is nothing. You should see it on weekends when they do brunch. It’s crazy.”

“Well, I’m excited to try it.”

“I’m glad you called. I kind of needed to get out of the house.”

“Well, I’m kind of looking forward to a few minutes where I’m not thinking about Tracy or Phillip or any of it, so I called you for a selfish reason.”

Kevin laughed as the hostess seated them. “Well, go ahead and use me. So nothing new, huh?”

“Nada. How has your family been dealing with this?”

“Not good. Like we were talking about the other day, it just brings everything up all over again. Carol’s mom has really had a hard time, of course.”

“You know what? Let’s change the subject.”

Kevin smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

They busied themselves looking over the menu and slurping down sweet tea. After the waitress took their order, Kevin hunched over the table and looked at Sondra.

“So, I don’t think I asked, but are you from Chicago?”

“No, we grew up in California—Stanford. Our mom was on the German Olympic team for swimming and my dad is a professor of cultural studies at Stanford. Written a lot books. Gordon Ellis?”

Kevin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Gordon Ellis is your dad?”

“Yeah.”

Kevin leaned back in his chair, floored. “Man, I’ve probably read
Hip Hop State of Mind
a hundred times. More.”

Sondra smiled. “Yeah. That one’s my personal favorite. I could probably snag an autographed copy for you.”

“Wow, that would… wow. Thank you.”

“Sure.”

“And your mom went to the Olympics?”

“Bronze in sixty, silver in sixty-four.”

“So, how did they meet?”

Sondra shifted in her seat. “Well, Daddy is from Alabama and he went to Emory for undergrad and got the opportunity to study abroad in Paris one summer. French Cinema. Mommy was in Paris visiting her sister and they were each sitting at a café one afternoon drinking coffee. Their eyes met and as the saying goes, they’ve been together ever since.”

“Wow. That’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. Good model. Even if Tracy and I had trouble following it.”

“I’m still trying to get over your family… You do documentaries, your mom did the Olympic thing, your dad does his thing and Tracy was a news producer?” Kevin let out a low whistle. “I’m trippin’.”

Sondra shrugged. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know. I guess we just all kind of did what we wanted and turned out to be pretty successful at it.” Sondra gestured toward Kevin. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Nothing nearly as cool as your family. I’m a social worker for the Chicago Public School system.”

Sondra nodded, impressed. “Tough line of work. Very admirable. You’ve got to have nerves of steel for that one I’d imagine.”

Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that, or oatmeal for brains.”

Sondra laughed. “Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.”