The Popsicle Tree (34 page)

Okay, I admit it. I was nervous as all hell. And, of course, though I had called Lieutenant Richman and gave him a three-sentence summary, there was no sign of the police. Well, if they were doing their job the way I hoped they were, there
wouldn't
be any sign of them. But an hour is a hell of a short notice for something like this.

I was counting on the fact that Angelina D'Angelo did not know I had such good police contacts, or that I had already told them as much as I had.

As I expected, there wasn't a single car in the parking lot, which couldn't be seen from the street. There was a dim street light at each corner of the lot, but I doubted you'd be able to read a newspaper even if you were standing right under one.

I deliberately stopped in the very center of the lot. I'd be able to see anyone coming up to the car. But of course, the words “sitting duck” also crossed my mind.

Quiet. Very quiet. Way, way
too
quiet. And warm. And did I mention “quiet”?

A pair of headlights suddenly glinted in my rearview mirror, and a car pulled up and stopped about twenty feet behind me.

Show time!
I thought.

With its headlights still on, I couldn't see who was in the car, but I saw the door open and a woman step out. It was
not
Angelina D'Angelo, unless she'd had her beehive hairdo removed.

Mildred Collins? What the hell was she doing here? Angelina had said she didn't want Mildred to know anything about this meeting.

I opened my door and automatically removed the keys from the ignition. I put them in my lap—a pretty sure sign I was nervous—while I undid my seatbelt.

“Mr. Hardesty?” I heard her voice call. “Where is Angelina?”

I stepped out of the car and felt my keys slipping off my lap and hitting the pavement.

Cool move, Hardesty,
I thought, quickly bending over to pick them up. And the instant I began my bend, I heard the sharp crack of a gunshot and felt a flutter of air past my ear.

It had come from somewhere in
front
of the car, so I yelled for Mildred to get down as I ducked between the open door and the driver's seat just as all hell broke loose!

Two squad cars, their strobes flashing, roared into the lot and sped past us to the opposite side of the park, where I was pretty sure the shot had come from. And then there were flashlights and cops everywhere and a few seconds later what sounded like a string of Chinese firecrackers going off.

As I ran over to Mildred's car, another car raced into the lot and pulled up beside it, and Mark Richman got out, coming over to join us.

“Thanks, Lieutenant!” I said to Mark, and then turned to Mildred, who was standing like a statue by the driver's door.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes, I'm fine,” she said, her voice shaking. “What's going on? Where is Angelina?”

I didn't know how to tell her that somehow her sister had set us both up to be killed. I could understand Angelina wanting
me
dead, but why
her
?

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I…I had gone to a movie, and when I got home, I found a note from Angelina telling me you had called and insisted she meet you here, and she was taking a cab, and that I should come out and bring her back home.”

“Didn't that strike you as more than a little unusual?”

She shook her head. “Not for Angelina.”

“Why didn't your sister go to the movie with you?” Richman asked.

“Angelina doesn't like movies, and so I go a lot when she's here,” she said. “And when she just showed up again without letting me know she was coming, I…well, I just needed to get away for a bit.”

Angelina had told me on the phone that Mildred was already asleep. Why didn't she just say Mildred wasn't home?

A couple of officers hurried across the parking lot to the lieutenant.

“Did you find him?” Richman asked.

“Yes, sir,” the cuter of the two said.

Cuter of the two? How the hell can you be thinking about cute at a time like this?
my mind demanded. I had to admit even I was surprised, but I chalked it up to relief that this whole thing was close to being over.

“Well, I want to talk to him,” Richman said.

“Uh, I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir,” the other officer said. “He wouldn't surrender his weapon when ordered to, and instead opened fire on the officers. We had no choice but to return fire.”

“Damn!” Richman said, then cast an apologetic glance at Mildred.

I couldn't help but notice the expression on her face. Relief?

“Did you get an identity?” Richman asked.

“His wallet says he's an Edgar B. Styles of Louisville, Kentucky.”

I looked again at Mildred. There was no expression at all. Don't ask me why, but I was suddenly very uncomfortable. Something was going on in my mind and I didn't know what it was. For some reason, I flashed back to Angelina's set-up call. Something about it. What?

“Well,” Richman said as the officers moved away, “I think, from what you've said, Dick, that we should go over to Mrs. Collins' house and have a talk with Mrs. D'Angelo.” He turned again to Mildred. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Collins,” he said, “but I'm afraid we're going to have to arrest your sister for conspiracy to commit murder—and possibly for the murder of Carlene DeNuncio.”

And the light came on! I
knew
there was something wrong with that call from Angelina, and suddenly I realized what it was.

There was no “hech-hem”!

“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” I said, “but can I talk to you for a moment privately?”

*

I'd had a friend who had been with the same partner for thirty-five years. The partner was a nice enough guy, but he could not speak more than three sentences without inserting a “…you know?” It drove me and others who knew them completely up the wall. But my friend was totally unaware of it! He'd heard it so often, it just didn't register anymore. Mildred Collins had been around her sister so long that after all those years she simply had become unaware of Angelina's annoying throat-clearing. Since I couldn't tell their voices apart without it, when Mildred called and said she was Angelina, I had no reason to think it wasn't. I wasn't listening for a “
hech-hem,
” so when there wasn't one, it simply did not register.

*

Okay. We've reached the wrap-up, and I don't think it's necessary to give a step-by-step account of all the details and legal processes that followed. That was largely up to the lawyers and the police. I'm sure you've pretty much figured out the outcome by now on your own. Suffice it to say that for starters, Mildred Collins was arrested for the attempted murder of one Dick Hardesty, and, eventually, directly linked, through Eddie Styles, with Carlene DeNuncio's death. It took, as these things often do, nearly a year, and I learned bits and pieces as they came out, and finally, during Mildred Collins' trial.

Her motive had been simple: she wanted her niece/daughter Jan to have Kelly. She knew the only way for that to happen was if Roy D'Angelo, as Kelly's father, were to get him first. It was Mildred, not Angelina, who put up the money for the lawyer, and who was going to buy Kelly from him. She'd approached Roy immediately after Carlene had left Jan, and it was Roy who put her in touch with Eddie Styles. It was primarily for that reason that when the custody hearing came up, the decision was to leave Kelly with Beth Erickson and her family.

*

We had our Saturday evening out as planned. Craig Richman was a really nice kid we subsequently used frequently as a babysitter, despite the fact that Craig developed a very strong crush on Jonathan. But Jonathan handled it well, as I knew he would.

And our life went on, with Joshua now so firmly a part of it that it is hard to imagine him not having always been there. Samuel and Sheryl, of course, were always with Jonathan and Joshua, but the pain became less and less disruptive until it was just a dull ache not as seldom noticed unless called up.

Jonathan and I were discussing all this one night in bed.

“We lead a pretty interesting life, you know that?” Jonathan said, reaching over to turn off the light.

“That we do,” I said. “And there's a lot more to come.”

I could see his grin in the semi-darkness. “I can't wait,” he said, cuddling up beside me.

“Me, neither,” I said.

I kissed him, and we went to sleep.