Small Crimes (20 page)

'If
the wind's bothering you, it's okay to tell me,' I said.

'It
really wasn't bothering me,' she said. I could tell from how withdrawn she had
gotten that something was on her mind, but

I
didn't push it. After several minutes she interrupted our silence to ask me why
I came to see her today.

'Why?'
I laughed. I wanted to take you out on a date.'

'Why,
though?'

'Because
it was nice having coffee with you the other day. Because I find you
attractive. And I guess because I wanted to get to know you better.'

She
sat quietly after that, seeming to sink deeper into her private thoughts.

When
we got to downtown Burlington, I parked in a garage and we set off on foot. It
was one of those perfect fall days that send couples flocking to the stores and
restaurants in the downtown area. It felt good just strolling about outside. As
we were checking out the different restaurants around town, Charlotte's mood
perked up. Whatever funk she had been slipping into was gone. She became more
talkative and it took only a small effort on my part to squeeze a smile out of
her.

We
found a small French bistro that we decided to settle on. It was two thirty in
the afternoon and the place was still crowded. A little after three we were
seated. Charlotte ordered an apple crepe and a glass of white wine. I ordered
beef bourguignon. I tried asking for a bottle of beer to go with my meal, but
Charlotte became concerned about my mixing alcohol with the allergy medication
she had given me, so I ended up sticking with coffee. While I wanted the beer,
it was kind of sweet that she showed the concern that she did.

Charlotte
started to fidget as we waited for our food. The nervousness had come back to
her large hazel eyes. I could tell she wanted to ask me something. She looked
away from me and stared down at her small clasped hands. I couldn't help
noticing how tiny and white her knuckles were.

'Joe,'
she asked, 'you're not married, are you?'

I
couldn't keep from smiling. So that was what had put her in a funk earlier.
'No,' I said. I was married once, but we divorced over seven years ago. And I
don't have a girlfriend. To be honest, you're only the second woman I've ever
dated.'

She
looked back up at me. I could almost see the thoughts running through her head.

'It's
true,' I said. 'I knew my wife when we were kids. We were together through high
school and got married right afterwards. I've never dated anyone else, and
you're the first person I've gone out with since my divorce.'

'Joe,
the only thing I'll ask of you is that you don't lie to me.'

'Everything
I've told you is the truth.'

Her
eyes held steady on mine again. We sat like that for a while, just kind of
looking at each other. I was actually beginning to feel pretty good, almost forgetting
what I needed from her. A small, easy smile had made its way onto her face. We
sat like that, not really aware of anything else, until our waiter broke the
spell by bringing us our food.

I
didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled the food. The only thing I had
eaten that day was the powdered doughnuts, and my stomach was now rumbling.
Still, though, I forced myself to eat at a leisurely pace. I watched as
Charlotte cut her crepe into tiny pieces. After every few bites, she would stop
to dab her mouth with her napkin. It was kind of cute, I guess. I never saw
anyone eat that way before.

She
coughed lightly to get my attention. 'Joe, do you have any children?' she
asked.

'Two
girls. Melissa's fourteen and Courtney's twelve.'

'Do
you see them much?'

From
her expression, I could tell what she really wanted to know was whether I still
saw my ex-wife much. I shook my head. 'They're out of my life now,' I said. I won't
be seeing them in the future.'

She
tried to give me a sympathetic look, but I could tell there was some relief
mixed in. To be polite, because it wasn't really any surprise to me, I made a
comment about how I was surprised that she wasn't already married or involved
in a relationship.

'I've
never been married,' she said. She seemed to shrink inwards as a darkness
passed over her face. I haven't dated much.'

After
that I kept the conversation light, asking her about what she liked to do and
stuff like that. When she wasn't working, she was usually at home reading a
book or watching TV. I had a feeling that since she'd moved to Vermont her
company had been almost exclusively her three cats. I could tell that I
impressed her when I was able to discuss several of the books that were on her
shelves. I didn't tell her that during the last seven years I probably emptied
out the Bradley library - or to be more specific, Morris had emptied it out for
me. Every week he'd check out between five and ten books for me. It got to the
point where during the last year he'd almost always brought me several books
each week that I'd already read.

I
could see that there was another question dying to bust loose from her. I sat
back and smiled and waited for it.

'Joe,'
she said, 'you mentioned yesterday that you used to be a police officer?'

'Yeah.'
I took a deep breath and made a decision. I did something pretty bad and was
kicked off the force.'

An
odd look flashed on her face. It wasn't surprise or shock or anything like
that. I wasn't quite sure what it was. In any case, she didn't seem taken aback
by my answer. She seemed almost satisfied with it, her eyes calm and holding
steady on mine.

'What
do you do now?'

'I'm
in transition.' I let loose a short laugh. I couldn't help myself. 'My dad
wants me to go to college. Who knows, maybe I could major in history or literature
and become a professor someday. I don't know, I still haven't figured out yet
what I'm going to do with my life.'

It
was funny; she didn't press me about what I did to get myself thrown off the
force, or why I hadn't dated during the last seven years. For the rest of the
lunch, we stuck with small talk, only superficial stuff. When I tried asking
her why she left Montreal she changed the subject to how nice the weather was,
then her face darkened as she stared at her hands. I moved the conversation to
her cats and that brightened her back up. She told me they were Persians and
that she had brought them with her from Canada. Before too long she was smiling
again.

After
lunch we strolled around some of the stores. At one point she took hold of my
hand. It felt nicer than I would have expected.

We
made our way down to Lake Champlain. After walking for a few minutes along the
shore, we sat on some rocks and looked out at the water. I saw a couple of
seagulls flying overhead, and as I watched them, I found my thoughts drifting.
I felt calm sitting there. The noises that had been buzzing through my head for
the past several days were silent. Charlotte brought me out of it by asking how
I knew Manny Vassey.

'I
got to know him when I was a cop,' I said.

'Wasn't
he a criminal?'

'Yeah,
he was.'

'And
you're friends with him?'

'Not
exactly.' I hesitated as I tried to think of a way to broach the subject of
what I really needed from her. Because what I really needed from her wasn't a
girlfriend or a relationship, but for her to overdose Manny - maybe with
morphine, maybe with
something
else.
As I thought about it, I realized how crazy the idea was. It was more than a
long shot, it was nuts. Completely, absolutely nuts. I felt cold all of a
sudden, especially in the head.

The
coldness was penetrating deep into my eye sockets. Kind of like when you eat
ice cream too fast, except worse. I had to look away from her. But I had no
other choice - no other way out that I could see - so I stumbled along, my
voice sounding strange and foreign to me.

'I
guess over the years I've grown to respect him, at least at some level, and
maybe somewhat begrudgingly,' I said. 'He was always a tough, hard sonofabitch.
But no one should have to die the way he's dying.'

I
could feel the words drying up in my throat. I shifted my gaze back to her.
Charlotte sat silently watching me, her color having dropped to a pasty white.
Her mouth looked so small, her lips almost disappearing into her face. I forced
myself to push forward, ignoring the queasiness that was working its way into
my stomach.

'It
just doesn't seem right.' I coughed and cleared my throat, my voice growing
hoarse as I continued. 'Especially when it would take only a little extra
morphine to put him out of his misery.'

'Is
that why you asked me out?'

'What?'

'I
asked you if that was why you asked me out,' she said.

There
was no nervousness in her eyes. There was really nothing there. Her expression
had hardened into something not quite human. I barely recognized her. I found
myself shaking my head.

'I
don't get what you're asking,' I said.

She
just sat staring at me. After a while she told me that Alice Cook at the
information desk had stopped her when she had gone back to the hospital to get
my allergy medication.

'Alice
told me that you were asking about me,' Charlotte said. 'She told me what you
did to Mr. Coakley. She told me how you went to prison. Please, Joe, don't lie
to me. Tell me why you asked me out. Was it to get me to overdose Mr. Vassey
with morphine? Because I would never do that.'

So
Alice had recognized me after all. Probably hit her after we had talked. Now I
knew the reason for Charlotte's funk earlier and it left my head spinning. I
heard myself mumble something about how I had no idea what she was talking
about. I was only making an observation,' I forced out. 'Why would you think
I'd want something like that?'

'Mr.
Coakley spends a lot of time visiting Mr. Vassey.'

'So?
What does that have to do with me? And I told you before why I asked you out.
That was the only reason.'

We
sat quietly after that. I'm not sure how long. It might've been ten minutes,
maybe fifteen, but it seemed like an eternity. After a while she leaned against
me. I looked over and saw her expression had softened. She moved closer and
rested her head against my shoulder.

'Aren't
the clouds lovely,' she whispered.

It
was weird. She acted as if nothing had happened. There were no questions about
what I had done to Phil, or about my being in jail, or my interest in Manny
Vassey. She just sat quietly, occasionally making comments about how nice a day
she was having or how beautiful the lake and sky were. Later, when we drove
back to Bradley, it was more of the same. On the way back she told me she'd
like something to eat so we stopped off at a diner. I could barely stomach
anything and only had a few spoons of rice pudding. I watched as Charlotte took
bird-sized bites from a grilled cheese sandwich. During it all my mind raced as
I tried to understand how my conversation with her went the way it did, and
more importantly, what I was going to do next.

When
I got her back to her apartment, she hesitated and moved awkwardly towards me.

'Would
you like to come in?' she asked.

'I'd
like to,' I said, 'but your cats and my allergies—'

'Your
medication should be good for twelve hours.'

'I'd
better not risk it, at least not tonight. I still feel a little shaky from
before.'

I
wasn't exaggerating. I did feel shaky. Maybe not from my earlier allergic
reaction, but I still felt shaky as hell. I could see a thought start to
formulate in her eyes about us maybe finding someplace else to be alone, so I
moved quickly and gave her a long kiss. When I moved away I asked if I could
see her tomorrow when she got off work.

'I
could pick you up here,' I said.

She
nodded. 'I'd like that. I finish work tomorrow at seven. Why don't you come by
at eight?'

I
told her I'd see her then and gave her a quick kiss before leaving. As I drove
back to my parents' house, I kept playing the scene at the lake over and over
again in my head. Maybe my comment about putting Manny out of his misery was
out of line, but how could she make the leap from that to guessing that I only
asked her out so I could manipulate her into overdosing Manny? The only thing I
could come up with was she must have overheard Manny and Phil talking together.
Maybe she overheard Phil trying to convince Manny to incriminate me. Anyway, I
couldn't get that out of my head, that and the fact that even though she knew
what I had done, she was willing to go out with me and pretend that none of it
ever happened.