Chapter Ten
CHARLIE
Sunday, 12:35 p.m.
Once again clean, smelling less like a morgue, and wearing dress slacks and a blouse, I returned to the living room to find it empty. The trash bag of clothes in the hallway had disappeared along with Uncle Hank. An apple-cinnamon candle was lit and placed in the center of my dining room table.
I blew the candle out, grabbed my handbag and keys, and left.
Only five steps outside the building I noticed Garth, one of Baker’s top security guys for the Outer Layer, standing on the sidewalk waiting for me. I walked over to him, tipping my head back to look up at him. Garth was big. Tall. Nearing the seven-foot mark. And as broad as a barn door.
He held out his hand, offering me a set of keys. “Baker asked me to exchange vehicles and remind you of your eight o’clock meeting.”
I unclipped the keys for the old pickup and handed them to him. “Where did you park my car?”
“Half a block down,” he said, pointing. “Sorry. Couldn’t park closer with all the cop cars.”
“That’s fine. Be sure to park the truck in the city parking garage across the street.”
“With pleasure.” Garth partially bowed in mock respect before walking away. Though we both consider Baker a friend, we also both enjoyed messing with him. And me parking cars in the city lot pissed Baker off.
I started down the block toward my car, spotting it immediately. It was a simple looking car, a dark blue Chevy Impala, only a few years old. But under the hood, I’d had a larger engine installed which kicked up the car’s horsepower a few levels. I slid into the driver’s seat, turning the engine over. Checking the display screen for the time, I noted I had ten minutes to cross town.
As I pulled into traffic, my phone rang and I pushed the button on the steering column to answer. “Yeah?”
“You’re late,” Aunt Suzanne said through the car’s speakers.
“I’m not late. I have ten more minutes, and I’m in the car, heading your way.”
“Pick me up at the car lot off tenth street. We can leave my car there.”
I paused to think out her reasoning and realized she wasn’t at home. She was running late and playing off that she was doing me a favor. Otherwise, she wouldn’t miss an opportunity for me to drop her off later at her house, hoping to convince me to stay for dinner. “No. I’ll meet you at your place. We have plenty of time.”
“I insist, really. It will be quicker for you to pick me up at the car lot.”
I smiled to myself as I turned onto the highway. “I went a different way. I’d have to backtrack.”
“Charlie Harrison, pick me up at the damn car lot!”
I laughed out loud. “Are you sure you’ll have enough time to get there before me? I’m guessing you’re at the mall.”
There was a long pause before she replied. “You’re worse than your uncle,” she grumbled before hanging up.
I cranked the radio and exited the highway. Stopping in the bumper-to-bumper traffic for a red light, I looked at the car next to me and laughed. Aunt Suzanne was trying to slide on sunglasses and duck out of view. I blasted my horn, which startled her and her sunglasses went flying. She looked over at me and gave me the finger. The naughty finger.
Five minutes later, I idled my car behind her parked car as she slid into the passenger seat with two large gift bags and her bulky purse. She inspected my outfit, which must’ve met her approval because she settled the bags at her feet before clicking her seat belt.
“Where to?” I asked, putting the car in drive.
“Coconut Grove. About a mile south of the sailing club.”
“Fancy. Remind me… Is this a wedding shower, baby shower, or a lame selling party where I’m pressured into buying crap I don’t want?”
Aunt Suzanne held up one of the bags that had a yellow elephant imprinted on the side.
“Boy or girl?”
“I’m not sure. The invitation didn’t say, so I went gender neutral.”
“And do I know the mother to be?”
“You went to the wedding.”
“You’ve dragged me with you to at least four weddings this year, and in each case, I knew neither the bride nor the groom.”
Aunt Suzanne, bless her heart, was an amazing woman, but she had an unusual addiction to attending social events: weddings, showers, charity auctions, candle parties, sex toy parties… It didn’t matter what the event was, she wanted to attend. Uncle Hank and I took turns accompanying her. Occasionally we put our foot down and refused, but there were always consequences.
“The baby shower is for the bride from the spring wedding. The one at the big cathedral downtown.”
“There’s been a lot of big cathedral weddings. And she must’ve already been preggers at the wedding if it was in the spring.”
“Whatever you do, don’t ask if she was knocked up before they reached the alter. The last time you did that, I could’ve crawled under the couch. I was so embarrassed. And you should remember the cathedral. You swore and it echoed off the high ceiling for everyone to hear.”
I remembered saying the swear word, but not the reason why. “It was only a little swear word.”
“If you’re counting letters, yes. If you’re counting the look on the priest’s face—not so little.”
I smiled at the memory of the stricken look on the poor priest’s face. Deciding to change the subject, I asked, “So what did I buy? And why were we invited?”
“I’m guessing we were invited because we give such great gifts. You bought a few outfits, some bibs, two rattles, a bottle warmer and those baby plates
