Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Later, Bonnie showered, got into her jammies, into her bed, and finally took those envelopes they’d found in Mr. Terrence’s house from her oversized beach bag.
Then, as an afterthought, she got up and locked her bedroom door.
With a detective in the house, she was going to need to find some ways to ensure her privacy.
Oh, but it was so good having them home. The house felt alive again.
She left the keys from Mr. Terrence’s house in the bag. Nothing suspicious about a key in a bag. Although she should probably bleach any dead-pedo DNA off it at the first opportunity. But not now, not until her son the cop was out of the house.
Detective, she corrected mentally, with a rush of pride.
She was as proud of Sam’s new position as she’d been when he’d graduated the academy and become a deputy. And she was overjoyed that he was home.
She was also horrified at his new position, and terrified at him being home now.
Curled up in her bed with the TV on for background noise, she put the envelopes in front of her. Immediately, her phone pinged, as if Diane knew exactly when she’d settled in to begin working on their…project.
Diane: Can you talk?
Bonnie: In bed, about to examine the mail. Good timing.
Diane: Harry says I have a knack. I listened to all recordings. In 2 other places the real voice came thru—as if the app glitched. Final 1 was the only 1 with the whole thing undisguised. Maybe enough to ID them if/when we have suspects for comparison.
Bonnie opened the first envelope. It was made to look official but was really just an offer of cheaper auto insurance. She unfolded the letter inside to make sure, but that’s all it was. Then she double-checked the address. Mr. Terrence’s name, his address, nothing fishy.
Bonnie: First one’s junk mail.
The second envelope was more interesting.
Diane: I have lots of jpgs. It’s like a color catalogue of girls with descriptions I can’t even talk about, and you should never ever see.
Bonnie didn’t need to see. She could imagine though she tried not to.
Bonnie: Envelope 2—bill from a medical center in Florida. Wrist X-ray. $25 copay past due.
Bonnie felt like she should pay that, since it was her fault Mr. Terrence would never be able to. But that would connect her to him in a second way, besides having worked with him ever so briefly. She couldn’t risk it. Maybe she’d send the hospital an anonymous twenty-five-dollar donation.
She took a notepad from the nightstand and jotted down the date of service, and address of the provider. Then she opened the third envelope.
Bonnie: Water bill. Wait, his place is way beyond reach of municipal water.
She looked the bill over with care, then turned it over to double-check the address on the back. Phillip Terrence. But not his current address. It had been forwarded there.
Bonnie: Previous address. 1279 Front Line Rd., Flamingo FL.
A chill went right up Bonnie’s spine. She tapped the microphone icon and spoke the next message in a whisper.
“Diane, we have Mr. Terrence’s previous address.
And we have camera-perv’s real voice and maybe two others’, committing crimes in real time.
” She paused, clicked send, then tapped the mic again.
“This is some kind of a trafficking ring. Imagine what’s on that phone he wants so bad. ”
Christine walked across the parquet patterned wood patio, past the square outside tables it was still too chilly to use, and into the dimmer interior of Bru64 on Main Street, in the iconic building with the curved glass front.
Known for their coffee, they also served food, beer, and wine.
She and the girls were frequent flyers there.
She ordered her usual, a large half-caf, black and bitter. Behind the counter, Wendy got to work before she’d even finished saying what she wanted.
She carried her coffee through the place, spotting Diane already at a table near that huge front window—probably so she could watch everyone arrive.
Rosa had called the early morning meeting via group text on their regular phones. It wasn’t unusual though, to have an early morning coffee klatch with the girls.
Rosa’s daughter Jenna was at the table with Diane. That was unusual.
A large black SUV pulled up and Bonnie got out, wearing baggy trousers and multiple layers on top. Chrissy saw the handsome man behind the wheel, realized it was Sam, and smiled. Then she slid into a chair, shrugging off her woven Henry Buschetti wrap with its signature embroidered strawflowers.
Bonnie headed over too, not even stopping at the counter first. She dropped her long brown sweater over the back of a chair before sliding in, looking around, and frowning. “Where’s Rosa?”
“She’s not coming,” Jenna said. “I called the meeting.” She was looking at her coffee, rather than at them.
Christine crooked a brow. “You called the meeting…from your mother’s phone?” The girls all exchanged glances. Jenna snooping was bad. Jenna snooping just now was very bad.
“Yes, I did, and then I deleted the text. And I did it without looking at any of her conversations,” she added quickly. “We have an agreement never to invade each other’s privacy. We’re supposed to just ask.”
“Yeah, well, you might’ve agreed to that. But trust Aunt Christine on this, Grasshopper. Your mom will snoop if she feels it’s warranted.”
“Mmm-hmm,” said Diane, while Bonnie nodded enthusiastically.
Jenna’s eyebrows rose in perfect, lush arches, hardly even causing a line in the youthful forehead behind her dark, wispy bangs. “You don’t really think she’d do that, do you?”
“Of course.”
“Absolutely.”
“No doubt about it.”
Jenna blinked. “So then it would be okay for me to do the same? If I felt it was warranted?”
“God, no!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Don’t even fucking think about it!”
“Well, why not?” Jenna asked.
Bonnie answered first and perfectly. “Because she’s your mom.”
Wendy, their server, came over with a large cup and set it in front of Bonnie.
“Oh! I forgot to order,” Bonnie said.
“I’ve got you, Miz Tucker.” Wendy hitched her chin and headed back.
“All right, so what’s this all about then?” Christine asked.
“I have to be at school by nine,” Bonnie said. “Got called in again to sub for, um…” She pinched her lips between her teeth.
“For who?” Jenna asked.
“You wouldn’t know him.” Bonnie waved a dismissive hand. Christine noticed she’d been biting her nails again. “Anyway, what’s the meeting for, Jenna? A surprise for your mom? Mother’s Day maybe? It’s never too early to start planning.”
“No. Nothing like that.” Jenna took a breath and stopped looking at the table, bringing her gaze up level again, meeting each set of eyes in turn.
“I want to know what’s going on with my mom.
I tried our agreed-upon method of just asking, but she’s not talking, so…
” She shrugged. “I thought if anyone would know, it would be you three.”
The girls exchanged worried looks. “What makes you think something’s going on with her?” Diane asked. But she kept looking between Bonnie and Christine, because the three of them knew that covering up a murder definitely qualified as something going on.
Christine tried to signal Bonnie to stop shifting her eyes like a felon, but that probably made them all look even guiltier.
“She’s tired all the time,” Jenna said at length.
Burying bodies by night will do that.
“And she’s pale. She wakes up with dark circles under her eyes, and uses my concealer to hide them, cause she swore off makeup three years ago.”
“And hair dye, too,” Christine said, subconsciously smoothing her caramel pixie cut. She just wasn’t ready yet!
“She seems like she’s in pain sometimes,” Jenna went on, “but when I ask, she always makes something up or changes the subject.”
Wait, what?
Christine looked at Bonnie and Diane and saw the light bulbs going on over their heads, too. This wasn’t about the murder.
“She was awfully tired the other day,” Diane said. “After we…took that little walk together.”
“She said her legs hurt,” Bonnie muttered.
“Sometimes it’s her back,” Jenna said. “Sometimes her arms. But mostly, it’s her head.
She gets migraines that put her down for hours.
If I’m busy, she closes the bookstore. And I never remember her getting those before, not my whole life.
Plus she’s going out and not telling me where, and her excuses are lame. I’m really worried.”
Christine reached across the table and covered Jenna’s hand.
“I promise you, we are not aware of anything physically wrong with your mom.” She looked at the others as she said it, telling them with her eyes not to encourage Jenna’s suspicions.
Not just then. If she went snooping into her mom’s affairs, she might stumble upon the murder they were all covering up together.
Meanwhile, they’d have a talk with Rosa, find out what was up.
“We’ll pay close attention, Jenna,” Bonnie assured her, almost speaking Christine’s thoughts for her. “We’ll even talk to her about it. Okay?”
Diane said, “You know, some of this might be us. We’ve been exploring local landscapes, taking long drives and walks together, hanging out at hole-in-the-wall diners. A lot of times she’s going somewhere and not telling you, she’s probably just with us.”
“She’s not with you today,” Jenna said.
“Obviously not,” Christine replied. “You didn’t invite her.” She glanced through the curving window, two blocks up toward the bookstore housed in a centuries-old brick building with window boxes that were bursting with flowers from Easter till Halloween.
“No, I didn’t invite her. But ‘morning coffee with the girls’ is what she said when I asked where she was going so early this morning. Only, she took the car.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked like she was going to cry. “Why would Mom lie to me?”