Chapter 24
Ronnie and I breakfasted together in morning sunlight that streamed in through the rear windows, highlighting gold dust motes. The house was ours. Timothy had cooked bacon in the oven and it was cold by the time I woke, but bacon was bacon. I drank coffee with cream and sugar.
Ronnie wore a waffled terry cloth robe over her pajamas.
She stood at the front window and I could see her calves, ankles, and feet from behind.
Her toenails were painted rose petal pink.
I couldn’t remember her last bright pedicure.
She once told me she liked her feet and ankles and that wearing loud polish was a sign of compensating and that would send the wrong message.
If you got it, understate it. She turned from the front window with her mug. “But where does one charge the car?”
“Some gas stations have Tesla chargers. Takes twenty minutes.”
“How does it see?”
“A kind of radar,” I said. “I think.”
“And your Accord is toast? You’re sure?”
“The body is ruined. The engine is ruined. It’s over ten years old, and it’s toast toast,” I said.
“Mackenzie. When I asked you to look into this, I didn’t know you’d get beaten up in prison, mugged by furry animals, or that your car would be ruined. I feel wretched.”
“You don’t look it,” I said. “You look like a trillion dollars.”
“Don’t be kind. That makes it worse.”
“Also no one beat me up. That’s preposterous.”
“My tough guy.”
“Want to ride in the Tesla before they pick it up?” I said.
“Absolutely not.” She sat and ate bacon beside me and wiped her mouth with a napkin, and she sipped orange juice. “When do they take it back?”
“Dunno.”
“What will you replace your Honda with?”
“Batmobile,” I said. “Or a cape.” I pulled plump grapes out of the bowl in the middle of the table, their skins still wet, and I ate them.
“Tell me more about your investigation,” she said.
“I get the impression Piper and Theo were broke and down on their luck with no prospects when Emile and Duane died,” I said.
“How sad.”
“You’d likely think they’re sad weirdos,” I said.
“I’d be correct. One of them pretends he’s a rodent.”
“In the midst of being sad weirdos, Theo and Piper inherited a child who came with a small fortune. A fortune of ill-gotten blood money. Theo was Sophia’s only viable next of kin, and the fortune made it palatable for him and Piper to take her.
Going from broke to rich with any kind of grace is hard.
I think the sudden influx of money broke them.
They bought too big a house to keep, with too big a kitchen to clean, too big a pool to maintain.
She quit exercising and started pounding pizzas and Mountain Dew.
He no longer needed to work, a man in his late twenties, so he became a squirrel.
Man is born to trouble and unearthed wealth breaks us as surely as the sparks fly upward. ”
“Is that a quote? I like it. What is it from?” she said.
“That’s a secret.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’ll try to remember,” I said.
“How does Sophia herself look?”
“Like she watches a lot of television and drinks a lot of Mountain Dew.”
“So.” Ronnie made a, “Ugh,” noise and threw her hands up in disgust. “Sophia’s adopted parents are criminals and squirrels. Because I killed her mom.”
“She might be better off? Duane and Emile were sadistic predators. I don’t know that Piper is, maybe she’s just unwise.”
“You said she’s a cyber crook.”
“She wants to be. I’m not convinced she is.
She might play at it to ease the ache of a purposeless life,” I said.
“Little Sophia has no other close family. I looked. She has second and third cousins she’s probably never met, in France.
She has an elderly aunt, Duane’s older sister, in Boston, but the aunt has a record of arson.
Sophia has an uncle in prison. And an Amish grandma who disavowed her daughter and spends her day feeding chickens.
That’s it. So it’s Piper and Theo, or Social Services until the wheels of justice grind long enough to find an adoptive family, which would be a painful, life-shattering ordeal for Sophia. ”
Ronnie let her head fall back and she made the “Ugh” noise again.
“You spend time in the JDR courts,” I said. “You see the carnage of families broken. We shouldn’t bust up the Cardots.”
“I was hoping you could do your Mackenzie thing and produce a magical happy solution,” she said.
“I’m good.”
“Yes. But you’re not God, I know. What will you do about Theo? Will you let it go?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Might it involve beating his butt?” said Ronnie.
“He summoned a pack of ding-dongs to attack me and trash my car, and he got away with it. Justice matters.”
“More importantly,” she said. “He angered you.”
“Far more important.”
“Do you think Manny knows that ding-dong isn’t a compliment?”
“Likely.”
“He plays the role of ignorant hottie well,” she said. “Especially if he knows he’s the punchline.”
“He knows. It’s a sign of good mental health, if you can laugh at yourself.”
She stood and set her hand on my shoulder. “Thank you. For everything, Mackenzie. I’ll process this.”
“For you, kid, anything.”
“Time for a shower.” She cleaned up her plates and set them in the sink. At the bottom of the steps she said, “Mackenzie. About the shower. That was not just information. It was an invitation.”
“Oh,” I said. “I accept.”
And my morning got a lot better.