The Price of Candy Read online

  Ruth lit another cigarette. “I had to start the beatings when Little Toby was younger. He went through a dirty picture phase. I’d find stuff under his mattress. Just imagine, under the kid’s mattress—the one place no mother would ever think of looking. So I’d have to beat him. Sure you don’t want some tea? Every week I’d throw out the girlie magazines and the next week there’d be something worse under there. I’d have to beat him again. You know, big Toby ran a garage once and had nudie pinups hanging all over, but nothing as bad as they got on daytime TV these days.”

  “Sometimes a child must be disciplined,” Sandy said going along with it. She stood and started walking around the room pretending to be interested in the knickknacks. She looked down the hall off the living room. All the doors were closed. If the younger Toby had kidnapped Jamie and brought her here, then his mother must be in on it.

  “You’d think he’d have grown up. I still have to give him a whack now and then.” Her attention was now divided with the TV.

  “For dirty pictures?” Sandy quietly opened the nearest door in the hall. It was an empty bedroom.

  “No, he outgrew all that girly stuff, spends all his time on his computer now. Somehow, he met this Abby. That’s when I started to believe in miracles.”

  “Tell me about Abby.” The next door she opened was a bathroom.

  “Hasn’t had many dates. Almost thirty and afraid of women.”

  “Hard to figure,” Sandy walked back to the living room. “Nice house. How many bedrooms do you have?”

  “Three.” Ruth leaned back puffing. She appeared pleased someone was in her house. “It’s my fault. I knew he wasn’t quite right in the head. Should have taken him to a doctor to find out what was wrong with him instead of trying to cure him by myself.”

  “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

  “Sure, down the hall there, you’ll see it.” She chuckled. “Don’t steal anything.”

  Sandy tried the other doors in the hall. All were empty. Basements were rare in Florida. Could Jamie be in the attic? More likely the garage.

  In an extra loud voice she called out, “You can call me Sandy, got that, I’m Sandy. Did I tell you that?” She went in the bathroom. She placed her ear against the wall and listened. Nothing. She flushed and returned to the living room. “Will your son be back soon?”

  “Anytime. You know, I shouldn’t have mentioned I have to beat him. You gonna turn me in for doing that?”

  “Not my department.” Sandy gestured and said, “So your kitchen’s over here, nice and big. Is that the door to the garage?”

  “The breezeway to the garage.”

  She quietly tried the door when Ruth wasn’t looking. Locked. Sandy returned to the living room. Ruth was sitting on the couch looking down at her hands. “You’re going to leave me alone again, aren’t you?”

  She was shaking slightly and appeared about to cry. She raised her head a moment and clicked off the TV. Sandy was afraid of what was coming, so she tried to sound upbeat, “So you do crosswords. You have to be smart to do crosswords.”

  Ruth’s head went back down. She appeared distressed. “Since you’re pretty you probably never hate yourself.”

  “Sure I do, sometimes,” Sandy said quickly, hoping it would stop there. “And you’ve going to have that new super TV to watch. Are there other things you’d like? Do you have a wish list?”

  “What’d be the point?”

  “So, have you lived here long?”

  The woman ignored the question. “Sometimes I’m a strong woman, sometimes I’m weak.” She said in a low voice, talking to the floor. “No, that’s a lie. I’m never strong. Look at me. No, don’t look at me. I never should have let you in. Seeing you makes me think about my own life. You’ve got it all. Jesus, you absolutely have the entire world in your soft little hands. You can go anywhere and do anything. You could walk out that door, drive to the airport, and fly across the country. Come back tomorrow. Come back next year. So what. I could kill you just out of envy. Never had much of a life and what I had the damn men ruined. Or I ruined it myself, who knows. Thank God for blame, it lets you turn everything around. I can even blame Humphrey for being born a man. It’s your fault Humphrey." She stopped for a long drag. "Did you ever know a good man? I know that’s like asking did you ever know a good bastard.”

  “I’ll have to stop and think,” Sandy said, not wanting to disagree.

  “Even a good man is not worth the bother. Look who’s talking. I’m old and useless myself.”

  “You should keep dreaming. Terrible not to dream. You can replace your bad luck with good dreams.”

  “Bad luck is all that keeps me going. Gives me something to look forward to. I jump out of bed each morning, can’t wait to find out what bad luck is going to hit me that day.”

  “You’ve stopped dreaming because nothing has come true. That’s sad but not a reason to stop dreaming.”

  “So I’ll dream and with any luck I’ll be dead before I notice none of my dreams have come true. Thanks anyway, but the entire dream idea has passed me by. Sorry, Ruth, you should have been here yesterday. Sorry, Ruth, you’re not eligible for that. Sorry, Ruth, we just gave away the last one. You ever look closely at a food container you’re eating out of and happen to notice it expired three years before? That’s my life. Everything I want, or get up enough nerve to go after, isn’t there anymore. Somehow, I missed it. It’s already expired. Sorry, Ruth.”

  “Ruth, you need to change things. Shake things up. Start with things you can change easily. Throw away that stupid ashtray from Branson. It triggers bad memories. Go to the dog pound and save some little dog’s life. I’m sorry, I should shut up.”

  “You know, I do have a wish. I’d like to have lunch out with someone. Someone smart. I’d like to have someone clever across from me at the table. We’re trading amusing comments back and forth.”

  “You don’t mean a man?”

  “God no. Some nice woman. We’d definitely be talking. We’re talking about how we’ll spend our time. Because we’re carefree, you see. Our time isn’t already set out for us. And she’d be looking at me, you know. Looking at me because she’s interested in me and what I have to say. I’m holding a teacup, not a mug, and my little finger is sticking straight out.”

  “That would be very nice for anyone.”

  “She wouldn’t be mean and nobody would be yelling. Oh, well...do you want some tea? Did I already ask you that? I have teacups somewhere. They might be cracked but I got them. You can stick your little finger out.”

  Ruth now seemed to be trembling slightly again. She crossed her arms and hugged her shoulders as though cold. Her knees were pressed together. As though talking about change had threatened her. She moved her eyes slowly around the room as though it was unfamiliar, then back at Sandy. “You ever worry about that wolf scratching at your door?”

  “That wolf scratching at my door?” Sandy stared at the woman for a half minute and then moved over and sat beside her on the couch. She resisted the urge to reach over and touch her. “Yes, Ruth, I often worry about that goddamn wolf scratching at my door.”

  They sat together in silence.

  And then. “You know I can't let you leave.” Ruth now stared strangely at her.

  Sandy’s jaw tightened. What did that mean? She felt a hot rush on her face. She slowly got up from the couch and started walking toward the front door. Ruth jumped up and got to the door ahead of her. She stood there blocking Sandy.

  “You're not going to leave.”

  Sandy tried to appear calm. “Nice meeting you, Ruth. Must be on my way now.” She tried to step around, but the woman again moved close in front of her.

  “You're not quite as innocent and harmless as you pretend to be, are you Sandy? You’ve got a good act. Excellent performance. Cute little trick with that blank check too. Hadn’t seen that one before.”

  Sandy’s phone rang. She answered quickly. She knew that whoever it was would be able t
o hear her scream if that’s what it came down to. She recognized Kevin’s voice. She said hurriedly, "Yes, I'm at Ruth Towalski's house. West on Indian Road. Almost to 95." She lowered the phone and challenged the woman with an intense stare.

  Ruth stepped back.

  Sandy smiled. “My boss. It's so annoying. The first thing he always wants to know is my exact location. Okay, we're done here. Nice chatting with you.”

  “Please don’t leave.”

  Sandy stepped around her and continued out the door. The woman made no move to stop her. Sandy walked to her car while listening to Kevin’s excited voice, “I spent the day following Abby around South Florida. Can’t wait to tell you where she went. Let’s meet.”

  “Hold on, let me get safely away from a neurotic woman.” Ruth waved from the porch as she drove off. “I was partially successful today. I failed to find Jamie. I did locate the mysterious Toby. The guy Abby tried to kill. I know where he lives. No sign of Jamie there. Maybe he didn’t snatch her, although I’d love to look in that locked garage. Anyway, now we need to determine what’s going on between him and Abby. Where are you now?”

  “I’m in my room at the Ramada. The one out near the exit on I-95, Room 210. Come on over. We’ll have a drink.”

  The motel was less than fifteen minutes away. She pulled in and circled until she spotted Room 210 on the upper level. She saw Kevin’s Toyota SUV parked by the stairs. She backed into a space opposite and looked up at his room. Quite a guy. At least he seemed so. She phoned him.

  He answered, “Where are you? Come on up. Room 210.”

  “I thought we’d have a drink in the lounge.”

  “We can have some drinks in my room. We can sit here where it’s nice and quiet and won’t be bothered.”

  Tempting. A drink with him would be nice, but why up in his room. Damn. Why did he have to say his room? We just met. Wouldn’t a drink in the bar or restaurant be more appropriate? Why do men have to be so insensitive? Sure, Kevin we could drink in your room. We could kick our shoes off. Pop open a fifth of bourbon and knock back slugs out of plastic glasses while we sit on the edge of the bed listening to the romantic strains of the air conditioner. Sure, Kevin, that would be charming.

  Geez, even the smart guys are clueless. Even the good-looking ones. That’s another thing, why couldn’t he be overweight and not in such great shape? Why couldn’t he be ugly or smelly? Now she sounded silly even to herself. To be fair about it, she realized his thoughts were on the plight of his daughter, not the protocol of a new relationship. Possibly, he wasn’t thinking about Sandy at all.

  She’d have to pass up this opportunity. “Sorry, Kevin, I’m not going to be able to make tonight after all.”

  “Oh, come on. I want to talk with you about everything that’s going on. I can help you fight that charge. We can decide what we need to do and I’ll tell you what I found out today.”

  “No, I’m too tired. I’m driving on home. What do you have? Something about Abby?”

  “I watched Abby’s house this morning. She doesn’t know my vehicle, however I parked out of sight anyway. She took off and I followed her and followed her some more. She drove out of town. I thought, my god is she going to Miami. All the way down to Jensen Beach. Down to a big fancy estate on the water.”

  “Who does she know down there?”

  “No one she knows has that kind of lifestyle. She doesn’t move in those circles. She stayed there about a half-hour and then drove back home. I wrote down the address. Are you sure you won’t come up?”

  “Just give me the address, Kevin.”

  She thanked him and phoned Chip. She gave him the address in Jensen Beach where Abby had gone.

  “Google it yourself.”

  “You cops confiscated my laptop, remember? You’ve access to that nifty national crime database. And if you do it, I don’t have to pay.”

  “Hold on.” After a moment, “That address is the residence of Frederick J. Kidde.”

  “So?”

  “Freddy ‘Environmental’ Kidde?”

  “I still don’t get it.”

  “That’s right you’re from Philly. How about, Congressman Frederick J. Kidde member of the United States House of Representatives representing a congressional district in Florida?”

  “Okay, okay, I got it. He’s a big deal politician. What business does a low life like Abby have with Kidde?”

  “You’re the girl with all the guts, why don’t you go ask him?”

  “Maybe I will. More good news, Chip. You know that list of criminal offenders named Toby you printed out for me?”

  “Don’t tell me, the Toby you wanted was there on the list.”

  “He isn’t a criminal offender, but his father is and they’re both called Toby. I now have his name and address. His mother confirmed he knows Abby.”

  “That’s great. Part of that was luck, but you dug in and made it happen. Now what?”

  “This is the guy Abby intended to kill, not Banks. Now I go to Moran and trade the info for dropping the conspiracy charge against me.”

  “Wait a minute. Triney is the investigator on that case. You owe him. I think you should leak the information to him first.”

  “Then I’ve nothing to trade to Moran.”

  “I think you do. Moran will still need your cooperation and testimony.”

  “You’re right, Chip. I’ll let Triney make a couple of points. Are you still at your office computer?”

  “Sitting right here. What else do you need?”

  “Would you run a Kevin Olin for me?”

  “LKA?”

  “Athens, Georgia,” she answered.

  “Wait a sec. Okay...here he is...nothing...no priors. He’s the father, huh? Well, he’s clean. Anything special about him I should know?”

  “No. Thanks. See you.”

  She called Kevin back. “I’ll meet you in the lounge. Five minutes...get yourself down there.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sandy was at her desk in Kagan’s office when Kevin phoned. She told him, “I enjoyed our little date last night.” It was just a drink with him, but it was a start.

  Meeting with him in the Ramada lounge was pleasant in spite of the overhanging gloom of a missing child. They had talked about Jamie, his job, her job, Georgia, and Florida. She couldn’t get him around to the subject of his divorce. Divorce details can say a lot about a person. Abby had described him as a dull stay at home kind of man. If Abby didn’t like him, that was a plus in his favor. Jamie would be the one to ask.

  Sandy liked the considered way he looked at her. He had a way of smiling without breaking eye contact even for an instant; looking as if ready to dive right into her eyes. She hoped it was unrehearsed.

  His harsh words this morning broke the spell, “Sandy, where are you? Last night you said you intended to tell Moran you located Toby so you could get some kind of a break. I thought you meant later. Aren’t we going to spend the day looking for Jamie?”

  “Right now I’m talking to my lawyer about how best to keep Moran at arm’s length. If he decides to throw me back in jail, I can’t help you at all.”

  “Frankly, right now, I don’t give a damn about your legal problems. They don’t amount to a hill of beans if Toby has his hands on my daughter.”

  “Don’t go crazy on me, Kevin. Like after we had drinks last night, you should have told me you were going to follow me home. I notice that kind of stuff and it makes me nervous. I think it's spooky.”

  “What? I didn’t follow you anywhere. I went right to bed.”

  “Sorry, I thought it was you. Anyway, I know you’re upset, but I haven’t given up on finding Jamie. We’ll get back on it today.”

  “I know...I’m overreacting. Sorry, it’s all I can think of.”

  “What’s next? I searched Toby’s house yesterday as well as I could. I called my name out loudly. If Jamie was there, she didn’t hear me.” Or had a gag in her little mouth, Sandy said to herself. “Let’s do this.
Triney helped us unofficially by checking on her bike. Maybe he can do something more. Let’s go talk to him today. You know where the county sheriff’s office is. Let me finish up here. I’ll meet you there in one hour.”

  Kevin was there waiting when she arrived. As they walked back to Triney’s desk she told him, “Please don’t mention I might go for a deal with Moran. I might need to hold back some good info to trade.”

  The detective greeted them. He remembered interviewing Kevin in November when the police were stopping all white SUV's in connection with the Privado Beach case. “I heard Sandy had located you in Georgia. Somehow, I’m surprised to see the two of you together. Guess it’s normal with your daughter missing and all.”

  “Of course I’m going to be down here. Since my ex won’t report our daughter missing, I want to do so right now...officially.”

  “Are you the custodial parent?” Triney asked.

  “No, but I have visitation rights. Jamie is supposed to be with me next weekend.”

  Triney shook his head.

  “Geez, he’s the father," Sandy said. "He has some rights. If he has visitation rights, then he has legal access to Jamie. What if Kevin shows up at Abby’s house to pick up his daughter and Abby can’t produce her, which she is legally obligated to do? Would you consider his kidnapping report at that time?”

  “I’d consider her unavailable, not kidnapped,” the detective said, “Look, what you just said makes sense, however it sounds like a civil matter not criminal. Run it past your own attorney.”

  “I’ve something for you on your Abby Olin shooting case.”

  “You know I can’t talk to you without your attorney present. So shut up and say goodbye.” He smiled while brushing her away with his hand.

  “You remember Abby yelled out the name Toby as she fired?”

  “According to you, she did. Detective Pomar didn’t hear her. Now that’s it. I’m violating rules, goodbye.”